The day after the chips incident I arrive home, hang up my jacket in the coat rack, take my shoes off, and walk to my room, passing the Ganesa (Indian God) painting my mother forced me to hang up, the counter top with a box of Chen’s strawberries and two bags of chips, the small armchair with the blue cushions, the plant in a corner of the side table-holdup, a plant in the corner of the side table? I pause, then backtrack.
At the age of nine after three sets of pet fish died within a week of getting them, I knew that I wasn’t good at taking care of living things. Since then, while other kids begged for dogs and hamsters, I decided to focus on my beloved action figures.
‘But plants are different’, some may say. Well, let’s just say I don’t have a green thumb either. I figured this out pretty quick after my mom’s friend had me water her plants while she was in India. I somehow managed to over water the ones that needed less and under water the ones that needed more. So, you understand how serious it is to see a plant in my – the plant and animal killer’s – house. Obviously, I didn’t bring it home so…
“Chen!” No response. I stride over to his door, it’s locked. I knock. Still, no response. I bang on the door with a closed fist.
“CHEN!” After a few moments the door slowly opens revealing a sleepy Chen in a giant fuzzy lime green sweater.
“Wha-what happened?”
“How come there’s a plant over there?” I point.
“Oh, I rescued it.”
“Rescued??”
“Yeah, from the dentist’s.” I blink.
“You stole a plant from your dentist’s office?”
“Not stolen! Rescued. Look at these drooping leaves! Look at how the color is off!” He cries, rushing over and gesturing wildly. I peer at the large, flat, splotchy green leaves.
“Looks fine to me.”
“No! Look at these!” He gestures dramatically towards three slightly grayer, sunken ones.
“Uh…okay. Do you even know what kind of plant it is?”
“Of course! It’s a Chinese Evergreen! Usually you can get them to flower, however those horrible people mistreated him so I rescued him! Now, I’ll take care of him and help him flower.” I gaze skeptically at him.
“How can someone who can’t even take care of themselves possibly take care of a plant?”
“Hey! What do you mean?”
“Hmm…let’s see. Can’t cook, eats chips for every meal, can’t lift 25 pound weights…”
“Shut-up!” Chen grabs the pillow on the blue armchair and starts wacking me.
“Okay, okay, hahaha.” I play surrender, lifting my arms up as I laugh.
Chen stomps over to the plant and touches its droopy leaves. As I gaze at Chen stroking the plant, his cheeks in a pout, a sudden thought hits me as I recall a sixth grade memory and I grin.
“But are you sure it’ll be okay?”
“I can care for a plant!”
“I’m sure you can but what if its diet is…unusual?”
“…what do you mean?”
“Have you seen the play “Little Shop of Horrors”?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“…cb.”
“C ues yglcur j qijca tbwf jcv la aegcr bea ab yf…wjc fjalcu.” Jtfc rajgfr ja wf.
“Pa vfnbegfgr jii atf merabwfgr ja atf rtbq yfobgf jiwbra vfnbeglcu atf ues jcv tlr ulgioglfcv. Vb wjsyf atja qijca…”
“Lbk vjgf sbe rjs atja jybea Jjb Jjb!” Jtfc mglfr, mtemxlcu atf qliibk ja wf jujlc. P yegra lcab ijeutafg, atfc qjerf.
“Cao Cao?”
“His name. He’s named after one of the most powerful generals in Chinese history, he lived around the end of the Han dynasty.”
“Huh, I thought you’d picked it because it was cute.” I glance at Chen, his checks turn pink.
“Well…there’s also that.” I grin.
“Well even if you name him such a cute name, he might still eat you~”
“You! Don’t say that!” He resumes wacking me and I, once again, burst into laughter that resounds through the apartment.
That night I make a new discovery about my roommate: he has nightmares. Around midnight after finishing up my final paper, I’m passing by his room on my way to fetch a glass of water when I hear a sudden THUD. I pause, then assuming he hit his head or something, I continue on. However, the thudding continues even after I grab the water. At one point I vaguely hear a shout and without time to reconsider, I run into the room. I find Chen curled up on the floor, banging his head against the ground and frantically mumbling something. I hurry to his side.
“Chen, hey Chen!” As I reach his side I shove my arm under his head before he does any further damage, causing his head to slam into my fleshy hand instead. Ow. Then I grab his arms, trying to pull him up. He struggles against me, desperately trying to bang his head against the floor again. Thanks to the disparity in our strength (for the first time I’m relieved that Chen doesn’t work out) I manage to pull him into my arms and lock him in a tight, unmoving embrace. After several moments his thrashing slowly subsides and I’m able to make out some of his words amidst sobbing cries.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry General, I’m sorry!” I scrunch my brows, general?
After he’s calmed down a bit and his sobs wind down to the occasional sniffle, I slowly lift his forehead with one hand. There’s a bruise and one side is slightly scratched and bleeding, no doubt by a sharp piece of debris on the floor. Should I leave him and go grab a band-aid? Will he start up again? Forget it, he looks calm now. Might as well risk it.
I quickly run out and grab one. Thankfully, he’s still passively lying against the bed when I return. As I crouch down beside him, peeling open the band aid, his eyes crack open.
“General?”
“Nah, it’s me Ram.” I smoothly place the band-aid on his forehead. His eyes open wider.
“Ram? I-what was I doing?”
“Banging your head on the floor and calling for some general. Who is this general anyway?” I look down and crumple the scraps from the band-aid in my hand.
“He’s-” I look up. Chen’s cheeks are slightly flushed and he’s averting his gaze. What’s this?
“You-you have to promise not to laugh!”
“That depends on what you say.”
“You-” His cheeks are even more flushed now. I burst into laughter.
“Okay, okay, I won’t laugh.”
“But you already are!” He pouts. Cute.
“Old boyfriend?” I ask, putting more pressure into pinching the band-aid scraps.
“What-no! He’s straight as a steel rod!”
“Ah, old crush then?”
“No way!”
“Ah then-“
“He’s my character!!!”
“…Huh?” I look up at him.
“He’s a character in the novel I’m currently writing.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah!” I scratch the back of my head.
“Then why were you…”
“Because his family died.” His voice is suddenly a whisper.
“What?”
“He went off to war, fighting for his ideals, to help the new king ascend. But in the process he went missing and since he was on the opposite side, his wife and daughter were forced to turn to prostitution and eventually died…” His voice grows quieter and quieter and I have to strain to pick it up. “He won’t forgive me, he hates me.”
“Holdup.”
“Huh?” He looks up, as if pulled from a trance.
“These are your book characters, right?”
“Yes.”
“How come you’re talking as if they’re real people?”
“But they are real.” His wide open gaze looks straight at me.
“…But they’re in a book.”
“But to me they’re-I-I can’t explain it, never mind.” He stops speaking and we’re silent for several minutes.
“Um, does this happen a lot?”
“This?”
“Nightmares…about your books.” His gaze flickers.
“What do you mean by a lot?”
“I’ll take that as a yes then. Um…” I scratch the back of my head. “I can’t really help you with your books but if it’s nightmares I do have a possible solution.”
“What?”
“Well…when I was younger I used to have nightmares a lot too. And my Patti – my Grandma – she’s devoutly religious so she’d always tell me to say Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram until I fell asleep.”
“She’d ask you to repeat your name?”
“No well, actually Ram is an Indian God. He’s one of the incarnations of Vishnu, the preserver and protector of the universe.” Chen’s eyes alight.
“What’s he like?”
“Well…he’s blue for one thing.”
“Blue?”
“Yeah, Vishnu and at least two of his incarnations are usually depicted as blue.”
“Huh, what else?”
“He has a bow and arrow, that’s his primary weapon. There’s this big epic tale of how he defeated a demon king to regain his wife. Actually, the holiday Diwali is celebrated in honor of his successful return.”
“Wow, you know a lot!”
“Eh, somewhat. I grew up listening to Grandma’s stories.”
“How come you were named after him?” I shrug.
“Many Indians are named after Indian Gods. I guess my family just liked the name.”
“Are you like the God at all? Do you know archery?”
“It’s a complete coincidence but actually, yes. I learned it at summer camp, I wasn’t half bad.” I recall the slender bow, the twang of the string as I released it. Chen giggles and I blink to find him smiling at me.
“Alright, if the General comes to harass me I’ll just imagine you coming in with your bow and arrow.”
“Hey, it’s the God not me.”
“I don’t know the God so I’ll imagine you.” I open and close my mouth twice. “Although it’d be funny if you were blue…” Chen fingers his chin thoughtfully. I sigh in mock helplessness.
“Fine, do whatever. Just sleep.” As I turn to leave I feel a tug on my sleeve. I turn around to see Chen vibrantly smiling. I clear my throat and avert my eyes.
“Ram.”
“What?”
“Ram.”
“What?“
“Ram, Ram, Ram.”
“I’m seriously leaving.” Then, I hear Chen call out from behind me.
“Thanks Ram!”
“You’re welcome, I’m going to bed.” Tugging my sleeve from his grasp, I turn and quickly return to my room.
even tho i put para breaks it became a wall of text! QAQ
You’re totally right, I didn’t actually realize that! Thanks for pointing it out, now I’ll go and change all my Ramayans to Ramakrishnan.