Peter Li- Chapter 1

Chapter 1– Casual-ties

“Are we there yet?” Mark bangs his head on the car window, then groans in regret.

“No,” Mom responds dryly, gripping the steering wheel. From behind lopsided frames, her sharp eyes scan the road. “Do you need another time-out?”

“Um, no,” Mark mumbles, shrinking back.

Nudging Mark, I hold up a piece of paper with the caption “Peter vs. Mark, Car Trip #140” and rows of tallies spilling down the page. Smiling sweetly, I score myself another point. Mark elbows me in retaliation.

Slouching in shot-gun, my dad glances up from his book, titled HELP: I Have a Teenage Son! “Hey, boys!” he calls, straining to sound upbeat. “We’re only five minutes from Halmuni’s* house after our long drive.”

“Why does she have to live 8 hours away,” Mark groans under his breath.

Dad continues, “Hoorah! So, what are you guys most looking forward to about our visit?”

Mark mulls over the question briefly. “Halmuni’s galbi*. So good. Also, her kimchi. Absolutely delicious.”

Unlike my dauntless brother, I hesitate before answering. My halmuni is a professional Asian grandmother, from her cheek-pinching to her eagle-eyed assessments of how much weight someone has gained since she last saw them. Even when my grandpa died seven years ago and she moved in with us for five years, Halmuni never lost her professionalism. I still remember how her first act upon moving in was to quietly set all of our alarms to 6 am for morning prayer. After we all snoozed our clocks, her second act was to buy a bullhorn. Still, I miss humid August afternoons spent sipping barley tea and talking philosophy on the porch. Though I never enjoyed waking up early, my family hasn’t prayed for each other in weeks. I kinda miss those sacred mornings.

“Peter?” my dad calls.

Ack, I haven’t gotten back to him, have I?

“Uhh,” I begin, trying to stall. “I’m looking forward to… spending more time with Grandma? Especially because she’s going to stay with us for the summer?”

My dad nods appreciatively. “That’s good. Real good. I was just thinking—”

Suddenly, Mark calls, “Hey, we made it!”

From my window, I can see the peeling, gray siding of Halmuni’s house, where we’ll stay for the night. Then I catch her fragile form on the porch steps. She looks older than when we visited a year ago, her veined hands clutching a walking stick for support. The afternoon sunlight burns her silver curls into a halo and traces each new wrinkle lining her sunken cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my mom’s face twist in concern, her hands tightening around the door handle as she steps out. For a moment, I remember that my mom is both a parent and daughter. That moment shatters, however, when Halmuni lifts the bullhorn to her mouth and booms, “WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG? HAVE YOU EATEN YET?”

My mom sighs heavily, but the corners of her mouth flick upwards. For Koreans, asking someone if they’ve eaten is equivalent to asking how they’ve been. It’s how my grandma shows love… kind of.

After we’ve dumped our bags into the spare bedroom and Halmuni has affectionately pinched my cheeks scarlet, our family files into the living room, where a low, elegant table sits. On the table waits our dinner: plates of juicy, grilled galbi; steaming white rice; fresh, crunchy lettuce leaves; and a variety of vibrant side dishes. The second Halmuni finishes praying for our meal, Mark pounces on the galbi like a tiger.

Without her bullhorn, Halmuni’s voice rasps out softly, and her large, round glasses lend her an owlish look. “So, Peter, Mark, how has homeschool been?”

“Good,” Mark and I mumble in sync.

“Oh,” I start suddenly. “Are we going to church together tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow. It’ll be too late by the time we return home,” my dad answers, his chopsticks clinking eagerly.

“Ugh, that’s too bad. It’s been a while since I talked to Sam ‘cause we haven’t been in so long. I was hoping we might have time to meet up afterwards,” I mumble.

My mom shrugs. “Well, you can meet with him any time now since I think public school ended.”

“Cool.” I sigh a little, as if I can breathe new life into my relationship with Sam. Does he, too, doodle by moonlight and wonder if his best friend is staring at the same stars? Even when we attended church and I, missing his quick smile, approached him for lunch, Sam always rebuffed me with vague plans or family obligations.

Halmuni observes us silently, her eyes darting from face to face. Suddenly, she asks, “How do you feel about transitioning to—”

My mom chokes on her rice, spewing something in Korean.

Halmuni’s face pinches in confusion. “You haven’t told them?”

“Told us what?” I ask anxiously. For better or worse, my parents and grandparents speak Korean as their secret language. Like many other immigrants, our mother tongue died with the third generation.

My parents exchange questioning glances. Then, my mom nods her assent with a nervous smile.

Taking a deep breath, my dad turns to face me and Mark. “I don’t know how to say this, but, uh… You guys are attending public school for the first time next school year.”

My jaw drops, and I stare at my father as if he’s just claimed dictatorship over the universe. “Wait— what? Are you serious?”

“Um, yes,” my dad mumbles.

“But why?” I interject, my heart racing. “I love being homeschooled! I love the flexibility and the great food and staying in the Great Indoors and, like, not being bullied!”

My mom bites her lip. “You’re a rising freshman, Peter; this will help you adjust and grow as a teen. Also, it’s a great first step towards college.”

“How about me?” Mark demands.

“You, too, sweetheart,” my dad adds convincingly. “This way, you’ll finally be able to join the fifth grade soccer team! Isn’t that exciting?”

While Mark interrogates my parents over the prestige of elementary soccer leagues, I chew my now flavorless food. Like a broken record, my mind replays the words “attending public school” over and over. I’m certain that steam is shooting out of my ears as my brain synapses explode in slow-motion. Homeschool is all that I’ve ever known. I can’t fathom leaving it.

*Halmuni is a Korean term meaning “grandmother”

*Galbi is a Korean dish of marinated, grilled meat

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/car-sunlight-forest-road-street-5383371/