yellow grass, yellow leaves
"I know," she said. "You don't have to tell me." "I just wanted you to know. I want you to know because sometimes I don't always say things that maybe I should, and well, I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew. So you know how special you are, I guess." "You're being silly." She grabbed his nose and squeezed it like he was a clown. "Maybe, but you shouldn't laugh at me when I'm trying to be serious." He grabbed her hand and pretended to bite her finger. "Oh, that's your idea of being serious?" "I never joke about being serious. That's the one thing I don't joke about." He was stretched out on the couch, shirtless and looking up at the ceiling, watching the fan, trying to follow a single blade spinning around. She lay next to him and the fan blew soft air on her back, exciting her and her skin. He followed the shape of her body with the tips of his fingers. "Did I ever tell you my dad once went to the Temple of Heaven?" he asked. "Ever heard of it? It's in China. A beautiful building. I've seen pictures. It's circular and the roof is made with blue tiles that look like the sky. So peaceful. And the sky is always clear above it, there are never clouds, at least in all the pictures I've seen. Ancient Chinese believed heaven was round and the earth was square. That's why they made the building circular. To be more like heaven, I guess. What do you think about that? You should see it. I imagine there are some days you can't tell the difference between the roof and the sky." "Will you take me there?" she asked. He closed his eyes and wondered if she wanted to go with him anywhere or if she just said she would. Everything stuffed in one suitcase or a backpack and gone, just like that. Did she understand? Gone, no coming back to this place. What's for us here? It's all out there, not here, don't you see it? Can you see those things, he asked her in his mind. They would take only the images and sketches of all the places his dad told him stories about, thinking maybe he'll find his dad on the steps of some great monument for a great hero in a city that he has only seen in his dreams. But she always said things that he liked to hear and sometimes he thought maybe she didn't want anything for herself. He turned his face toward her cheek. "Can I touch you again?" he smiled and looked at her and turned the rest of his body toward her. "No. Answer me first." "Answer what?" "Will you take me there?" "To China?" "Yes. To China." "Do you really want to go?" Summer - Fall 2006
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