Someone's Going to Get Hurt Before You're Through

Driving Lola home from the vet turned into one of the worst days of my life.  She couldn't walk.  She was so drugged from the shit they gave her in order to biopsy her lymph nodes and X-ray her body that I barely recognized my dog.  I had to pull upward on her harness while her legs limped along just to get her in the car.  My sister waited in the driver's seat while I climbed into the back seat with my dog.

Lola whimpered.  Cried.  Her eyes were bulging in fear, I could see the white parts all around them.  I petted her and hugged her but nothing would sooth her.  She wouldn't even get on the seat; she laid on the floor of the car.  

"Call Steve," my sister requested.
"Tell him to meet us at your house."  

When we pulled up in the driveway, my brother-in-law, Steve, was waiting at the curb.  He lifted Lola out of the car and carried her through my back yard and down the steps and into the house.  He placed her on the couch.  

She whimpered and cried and paced the whole day.  I couldn't get her to eat, nothing I did helped.  I wrapped her up in her favorite velveteen blanket, turned the fan on, hugged her and cried.  Finally, around four o'clock in the afternoon, she fell asleep.  The only thing she ate was some expensive, leftover cheese that we had bought for Alec's mom while she was here.  

We got the results of her blood work and biopsies and X-rays multiple days later.  It was supposed to be twenty-four hours.  I carried my phone even to the bathroom with me with the ringer on for days, waiting.  Finally, they had some answers.  

"Blood work remains normal.  It has not passed to either of her lymph nodes.  Her lung and body scans are clear.  It has not metastasized."

I started to cry.  

"Is this comprehensive, could anything have been missed?"  I asked.

"You have done everything you can do.  I think she is a very good candidate for Stelfonta."

We go to Lola's radio-oncologist tomorrow.  We hope that she will do the treatment immediately.  I stare at the tumor on her leg, worrying that it is metastasizing as I watch.    I kiss her and do weird Catholic shit, hoping that though I'm a non-believer that they will still bless my dog.  

I bless my dog.  

* Title, Waylon Jennings

The Black Sea

I heard a little knock on the trailer door, early in the morning on the last day of school.
"Faba!"  I exclaimed, surprised to see him.  He hadn't been at school in days and I assumed he wasn't coming back.  
"My sister didn't know we still had school!"  he said shyly.
"I have your Bud, Not Buddy," continued, handing me the book.  
"Oh, Faba, I am going to miss you."  I responded.
"Maybe I'll be able to stop by."  he answered in his pretty Congolese accent, radiant teeth shining in the morning sun.  

I broke him out his ordinary classroom with the few kids I had that were still in the building.  They ate lunch in the trailer, played Scrabble and ate Starburst until the buses came.  I didn't break out Mashia; I'm not sure why.  I felt enormously guilty when I went to say goodbye to her and she would barely talk to me.  

The school year ended with a naked man walking through the the carpool/bus lane and an unceremonious, it's three o'clock, you can leave vibe.  I could hear teachers' tires squealing and saw a line of cars peeling out even before I could get the trailer locked.  

I tried to hit the ground running and spent days cleaning up our house and yard.  I wanted to get it out of the way, and Alec's mom was coming in to town.  She would be in Atlanta for a couple of days and then we would drive to Tybee Island for a few days at the beach.  I was really looking forward to it.  I haven't gone swimming in two years, principally because of COVID, and even driving to the Georgia coast was thrilling.  I selected a pet friendly, 1960s cinder block beach cottage right by a couple of my favorite beach access points.  

Lola really doesn't like rain.  Before, she would tolerate it while in the car, as long as we did not turn the windshield wipers on.  Now, even sprinkles on the windshield drives her into a nearly ninety pound frenzy of powerful dog.  Alec and I watched the weather like hawks, trying to anticipate the drive.  

We hit rain.  And road work.  A four hour drive turned into more than seven.  I was in the backseat, trying to hold Lola back from crashing forward and attacking the windshield.  She was terrified, barking, foaming at the mouth, her heart racing and her skin hot to the touch.   I wasn't mad at her, I felt terrible.  Alec's mom was in the front seat, tolerating this awful situation.  By the time we arrived, I was soaking wet from rain, had sworn and cried and had bruises all over every conceivable part of my body.  When we went to sleep in my little twin bed across from Alec's little twin bed, I hugged Lola very hard.  

I swam in the ocean the next day, floated on my back and looked at the sun.  

The day after we returned to Atlanta, Lola's vet called with results of a biopsy I requested during her annual well visit.
"It's malignant."

Malignant.  The thing you have been saying for years we should "just watch"?  The thing I got biopsied at a different vet and they said it was nothing?  The thing I had to push you to biopsy again?

"They can schedule her surgery for June 30th."  Alec told me.

"The main doctor says that she isn't concerned about another two and a half week wait." he continued.

"Yeah," I responded.

"Because she's never concerned about a whole lot of anything."

Alec nodded and started calling every vet in town to see who could get on this faster.  

We got an appointment at my mom's vet and they scheduled the surgery a week later, as well as a lymph node biopsy to see if the cancer had metastasized.  We watched the rain and panicked about getting her there and back, and worried about reports that the location of her tumor was a difficult place to operate.  My sister and I drove her for the appointment, on Alec's first day back to work after his vacation.  The sky stayed pretty clear.  

About an hour and half after dropping her off, my phone started ringing.

"She needs to see an oncologist.  I can't remove all of the tumor because of the location.  I want to call in a referral to a radio-oncologist, I'm texting you everything.  If it hasn't spread, there is a non-surgical option that will destroy the tumor.  It will take a lot of home care, it will be an open wound.  If it has spread, she'll need surgery and chemo and radiation.  I'm going to ask them if I can biopsy the lymph node and scan her lungs for tumors and do her blood work, if they will accept that.  Do I have your consent?"

"Yes."

"They are accepting my preparation and that will speed things along.  They have a cancelation for next week, call them as soon as we get off the phone.  It's on June 30th.  I am about to start the scans."

"When can I pick her up?"

"In an hour, I gave her a sedative so that I can X-ray her and biopsy her lymph node.  She's woozy.  We will have the results in twenty-four hours, but if I see anything big in the X-ray, I can tell you today."

That's all I've got.  That is really all that I've got.  

Super Flower Blood Moon

I drove slowly down the street near my school, looking for Prem's house.  I parked across the street, put my mask on and stepped hesitantly from the car.  I had a bag full of drift souvenirs for Prem:  a t-shirt, hat, programs, stickers....even a piece of rubber.  I was going to leave it on the front porch, when something beside the garage caught my eye.  Prem jumped up and sprinted across the front yard then bolted straight across the street.
"Prem!"  I exclaimed.
"You could have gotten hit by a car!"
"I don't care...." he replied in his subversive whisper, his face filled with joy.  

"What happened to your eye?"  I asked Soe, after picking her up from her classroom.  A sizeable scab was resting right below her lower eyelashes.

"My mom got mad and threw her phone at me."  she responded, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Kaw shot out of his classroom.

"Ms. Wagner, yesterday Paw Ku cried."  he whispered furtively.

"Yes, she cried." Bway Pa seconded, a concerned look on her face.

Paw Ku nodded.

"I'll tell you in the trailer."

"So, yesterday that sub we had started asking us questions after you brought us back.  Questions about where we are from.....I told him the soldiers were chasing us and that we ran....we ran to the Americans and they told my parents $2000 each for them and that I could come for free."

I stared back.  

"It is still happening."  Bway Pa added.

"The are killing people again."

The Myanmar coup has been going on for a while now.  I always wonder how both my Burmese and Karen students are taking it, but don't want to prod them to discuss it.  But, it happens anyway. 

Career day was quickly approaching.

"Me," Mashia said in response, "I just want to be a socialite."  

"Look, Aniyah, this is not an episode of Cribs!  Stop giving everyone a tour of your house!"

I stared into the computer screen at my second grade class.  Their homeroom teacher was unraveling a bit.  We all are.  

I stood on the corner watching the kids walk the rest of the way home.  The school buses roared by, but one of them was filled with screams.  The bus screeched to a halt and I saw two girls in the aisle, fist fighting.  Mya peered through the window of the bus, smiled, and held up her award for being the best music student.  The girls continued fighting behind her.

"I am going to Indiana this summer!"  Soe exclaimed.

"Wow, that's far!  Why are you going to Indiana?"  I asked.

"We are going to see the cops."  she responded. 

"My dad is going to build me a bamboo house."  Paw Ku said, a big smile on her face.  We looked at various pictures of bamboo huts and commented on which was the coolest.

"He can build them really fast.  After the army would burn ours down, he would just build it again."

"I like any politician that supports LGBTQ rights."  Bway Pa announced definitively.

"That's great, Bway Pa, you are an ally."  I answered.

"Nah, I'm not an ally.  I'm pan." she responded, a satisfied look on her face.

"And, on Sunday, blood was on my pants.  I was wearing white.  I tried to make it go away but it just kept coming."  she continued.

"Oh god, Bway Pa, I am so sorry."

"I didn't know what was happening...." she responded, and then told the ESOL class the horrors of her first period.  The boys, Kaw and Jorge, listened attentively, but were clearly baffled by what she was talking about.  

"I am VERY UNCOMFORTABLE."  she announced at the end.

"These pads suck."

"And this thing is going to happen to Paw Ku, too."

Paw Ku looked back at me, blankly.

"Okay, so we'll start with the electric slide and then do a Soul Train."

I was confused, but knew that this end of the school year video involved dancing, which I don't do.  I was only there because our principal wanted us to do it.  

The line dance started and I was lost.  I kept getting where no one was in front of me and I had no idea what to do.  It was humiliating.  I finally caught sight of one of the lunch ladies, watching me with amusement.

"I need guidance!" I scream-whispered.

"Don't worry,"  she responded.

"I got you."

Chaos in the Big Sea

"Prince Philip died." my royal watcher, Mashia, announced in a Google Classroom message.
I went to her classroom to pull her out.  We had already talked extensively about the Meghan/Harry situation in previous weeks.  She is Team William/Kate.
"Who wouldn't want to be a royal?"  she asked with a shrug during one of our previous conversations.  We had also remarked on the appearance of Prince Philip before he died, breaking into uncontrollable inappropriate laughter because of his freakish, cryptlike-alive appearance.  
As soon as she exited the classroom, she looked me directly in the eyes.
"I thought," she said before pausing, "that he would be mum...mummified."  
We both started laughing so hard I was crying.  I knew right away that she meant whatever those weird, embalmed glass cases are called that house the viewable bodies of Chairman Mao and Lenin and Ho Chi Minh.  I don't know why it was so funny, but this little third grader just has a way of cracking me the fuck up.  

"Where did the Expo go?" I asked Paw Ku.  

"It fell back there, in that crack in the bookcase."  she responded.

We both dug our fingers into the crack by the floor.

"I think I felt fur."  she commented, casually.

I ripped my hand out.  

I walk the kids that walk home from school up the hill in the afternoons.  I watch them until they get to the corner and then I walk back to school.  It's not the worst afternoon duty.  My crew is small, because most of our students opted not to return to the school building during COVID.  As we walked one day, a man came out of the overgrown woods around the school, the woods filled with old tires and trash and snakes.  He was carrying a large golf club, swinging it, while bouncing a tennis ball.  He had on long shorts with socks pulled to his knees and shower shoes.  He came toward us.  These kids aren't stupid and they side-eyed me with looks like this guy is janky.  We kept walking.  We got to the top of the hill and I turned my back on him and told the kids to walk home.  I wasn't comfortable, but I figured if he cracked anyone in the head I would prefer it was me instead of them.  

I took the day off and drove nearly an hour outside of town to got to the Drift races, without Prem.  The weather was clear and cool.  As soon as I got there, I saw that he had already blown up my phone with messages.

"Ms. Wagner, are you there?  YOU DID NOT GO TO SCHOOL, DID YOU???"

As fast as I could, I got in front of a Formula Drift sign and made him a video, reassuring him that I DID NOT GO TO SCHOOL, and to get ready, because the videos and photos were coming.   As soon as I got to the actual track, I felt my phone buzzing.  He was calling me on Instagram's version of FaceTime and he had Kaw on the call.

"They're coming, Prem, they're coming!"  I yelled over the noise, before turning my phone around so that he could see the twin cars racing down the hill and breaking and drifting with smoke clouding the whole air.  

"That is really cool...." I heard Prem whisper into the phone.  

I felt ridiculous when tears filled my eyes, but I just kept them focused on the race and kept filming.  

My fourth graders ran out to our trailer, picking weed flowers the whole time.  The made head bands, rings, even a head band and a bracelet for Lola.  We all put them on and read our book, with magic everywhere.  

*Title from House of Love, Christine

Major

Pablo and I were walking from the trailer when we saw a dog wandering around.  A German Shepard.  
Pablo and I have pursued leash-less dogs around the school before.   He loves animals in the same way I do and instinctively wants to figure out what's wrong and how to get them home.  We walked toward the dog to try to see if it had a collar.  I had my phone out, ready to call the owner or walk it home, if necessary.  The dog started howling and barking at us, while advancing in our direction.
"Pablo, stay back,"  I stated, putting myself between him and the dog.  Pablo is tiny, probably about half of the size of my own dog, Lola.  
"Walk slow....."  I continued, as we walked toward the school.  

We watched the dog circle back around and attempt to enter Mr. Bangamba's trailer.  The door quickly slammed and the dog wandered around his handicapped ramp, or like I like to call it, his "porch".  

As Pablo and I walked past the front office, people started calling out to us.  

"Wagner!  Watch out!  There's a dog out there!"

I smiled and waved and took Pablo back to his class.  I picked up my fourth graders.

"Saludos, friends.  So look....there's a dog outside.  If you see it, just walk slow and don't scream, everything is fine."

By the time we got to the cafeteria, the gateway to the trailer park, everyone told us not to go out there.  My students sat at a table with a large window that overlooked the "park", as if they were at the movies.  

Our principal came in, with a teacher that I know owns large dogs.  They went outside.  I was surprised when our principal started walking slowly, letting the teacher lead, then skipped over to the wall of the school, pressing herself against it while she ran back to the cafeteria, my students opening the door so that she could run back inside, leaving the teacher to his own devices.  

"Bangamba's coming in!" the walky-talky screamed.  

Suddenly, a line of kindergartners, running and screaming, tore toward the cafeteria.  Behind them, Mr. Bangamba ran too, mouth agape, carrying a child and sprinting.  It looked like a war movie before the bombs dropped.  We opened the door and let them in.  

"That dog!"  he exclaimed.

"It came in twice!  I was teaching the kindergartners and this dog kept running in!"

The dog mysteriously really had a thing for Bangamba.  

We hung out in the cafeteria.  My kids were having the time of their lives.  Ms. Goode ran her students in from the trailer and my students dutifully opened the door for them.  We eventually ended up on a level one lock down as the PE coach, a custodian and the teacher that has big dogs corralled the dog until the pound picked him up.  None of us wanted that to happen, but cars and buses were lining up in the pick up lane and we couldn't have a dog running around in the middle of that. 

Just another warm day at school.   

 

Lightning Never Strikes Anymore

"I'm really sorry, Prem."  I texted, via Instagram.
I was sitting at my desk at seven am, on the Tuesday after Spring Break.  I felt everything coming over me hard, like the wettest blanket in the world when you already can't breathe.  

Prem is really into drift racing.  When I told my brother in-law that, he lit up like a spark plug.

"Hilary, I go to those races every year!  I've got connections!  Bring him, we'll show him the time of his life!".

"Prem, the drift races come here in May.  I would like to take you, but we have to ask your parents first...."  I told Prem.

"The race track is outside of town?  Like a road trip?  Can we roll the windows down and blast music?!"  he asked.

"Of course Prem, of course....."

"Can we pit stop for snacks?  I'll bring money...."

"Prem, we will have the time of our lives, you don't need money, I've got this..."

"I think I will need a hat.  I'll bring it.  It will be sunny out, maybe sun block too.  Water.  I'll need water...." he continued.  

I dreamed too.  

"Can I bring somebody?"  he asked.

"Of course, Prem!  Who do you want to invite?"  

"I want to invite Faba."  he answered.

"Perfect pick, Prem, I'll call his parents."

"When is May?  I really wish it was tomorrow....." he continued.

It was February.  The longest wait ever.  

We talked about it a lot.  

"Prem, I'll ask your parents as soon as the last round of testing is over, I don't want to confuse them with too many dates and random stuff....do you really think they'll let you go?"

"One of my sister's teachers took her to Tybee Island for a week!"  he responded.  

And we planned and planned and planned.

I had it written in my planner.  The Monday after Spring Break.  Talk to Prem's parents.  And I did, first thing in the morning.  

By Tuesday morning, his sister responded.  

"I'm really sorry.  Our dad said no.  COVID and he's so young......"

I didn't know what to say and there was no way I was going to argue.  

Prem barely spoke to me for a day.  

By Wednesday, he broke into Kaw's reading lesson.  

"Hi Prem, I'm so glad you are here, but do you mind giving us thirty minutes?"  I asked.  Kaw's reading level is so low and Prem's is so high that I did not want to set up an embarrassing situation.  

"No, I want to stay.  I'll mute myself, I won't speak."  he answered.

"Okay."

Prem played the comprehension games with Kaw about the kindergarten level book we had just read. 

"Should we tell him what happened?"  Prem asked, nearly forty-five minutes later. 

"It's your business, Prem, it is up to you.  But I am so sorry..."

"Ms. Wagner was going to take me somewhere......"  he started.  

"Really???!!!"  Kaw responded.

"Where?  To her house???  To the park???"

"It's a race.  To a racetrack."  Prem continued.

"MS. WAGNER WAS GOING TO TAKE YOU TO A RACETRACK???!!!"  Kaw screamed.  

"We are both really disappointed,"  I added.

"Prem's parents aren't comfortable, and I understand that.  But Prem, I know it sounds crazy....but maybe next year?  You'll be in sixth grade...."

"YES." he answered.

"I will be bigger then.  And the anti-Asian hate will be gone."

That was the first time that I knew that that was the real reason he couldn't go.  

"Are you still taking Faba?"  Prem asked.

"No, Prem.  I love Faba, but this was your idea and I am not taking any kids to the races without you.  It's just not fair."  I responded.

"Okay."  he answered.

"Are you still going to go?"  he asked.

"Prem, I don't know.  I'm not sure if I want to go if you can't go.  It won't be the same."  I answered.

"No, Ms. Wagner, you have to go.  You can live stream it to me, take pictures, videos."

"Okay, Prem, I'm taking the day off.  I'm going to do this."

"TEACHERS CAN TAKE A DAY OFF TO GO TO RACETRACKS?"  Kaw screamed.

"Yeah, Kaw, we get a couple of days a year when we don't have to go to work but don't have to explain why....."  I answered.

"Hey Kaw, next year.....do you want to go to the races with Ms. Wagner and I?"  Prem asked.....

The King of All Wild Things

"Ms. Wagner, do you have Facebook?"  Kaw asked.
"Yeah, I do." I responded.
"But....I went on my sister's Facebook and looked for you and you weren't there.  I typed in 'Ms. Wagner' in the box and couldn't find you."  he continued.
I smiled.  Ms. Wagner.  
"Oh Kaw, don't worry, when you're in middle school we can be Facebook friends, but it might be too early now."  I answered.
"That's okay,"  he responded.
"I see you on Instagram."

I stared back through the laptop at Ku.  It was early, before eight o'clock.  His hair was sticking up and he was wrapped in a blanket.  

"Okay, Ku, we are going to read something different today."  I announced.

I was really relieved he was smiling.  His sister was smiling, too. Many days he cries and runs from the computer.  His sister chases him and forces him to sit down, stress contorting her face.  She grabs him hard and threatens to hit him.  It's misery.

"It's called Where the Wild Things Are.  I hope you like it because YOU are a wild thing too!"  I continued.

"You are a wild thing!"  his sister said jovially and they both laughed.  

His face filled with fascination as the story unfolded.  Suddenly, I heard Prem's voice.  

"Look, trees!"  he said, when the trees began to grow in the boy's bedroom.

"Tree....."  Ku repeated.  It is very rare for him to speak words.  In any language.  

I looked at the screen and watched Prem and Ku's faces fill with wonder as the story continued.  For just that second, everything felt really okay.  It was still dark outside and I was in a broken down utility trailer behind the school and they were clustered in Ku's bedroom.  And we all read Where the Wild Things Are.  

Pablo stared back at me, defiantly.  

"Pabloooooo," I implored.

"We have to get this thing done.  Okay, so the question is, how are you and Jimmy Carter the same?"  I asked, reading the question off of the assignment he did not want to do.

"We both have dads."  he answered.

"Great!  Write that down."

"Okay, next one...."  I continued.

"How are you and Jimmy Carter different?"

"I am a little boy.  And HE is a BIG GIRL." Pablo answered, slamming his pencil down.  

"So, my brother.  He did not come with us."  Kaw mentioned, randomly.  He has told me that before.

"Is he still in Thailand?"

"Yes, but he is being chased by the soldiers now.  We cannot reach him."

Many of my Karen students left Myanmar for northern Thailand because of persecution.  Some arrived directly from Myanmar as refugees.  Even my Burmese students left Myanmar and have Malaysia as their last residence before arriving as refugees to the United States.  Considering the fucked up government there, being Burmese sounds bad enough, but to be persecuted by the Burmese for being an ethnic minority sounds even more hopeless.  The military coup has come up several times.  They will mention it when I least expect it and drop the subject just as quickly.  Anti-Asian violence comes up in the same way.   

"If he comes here, will he stay at your new house?"  I asked Kaw.

"No!  Ms. Wagner, no!  When you come to United States, first you go to apartment.  THEN, you go to a house.  First, apartment."  he explained. 

I smiled.  The rules of arriving as a refugee, explained by a little boy who came when he was five and just moved from the apartments to a house.  

"Are you looking forward to Spring Break?"  I asked.

"Yaaaasssss!" he responded, his voice rising and cracking like it does when he's excited.

"I am going to sleep and then I am going to stay up and I am going to play Call of Duty!"

"I hope you have a great break." I responded, waiving furtively into the camera before hanging up, turning off the lights and locking the trailer for a week-long break.

 

*Title from Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak