Chapter 91: Obligations

Wednesday, March 2, 1983

I could’ve gone to the library during P.E., but I went to the gym anyway, dressed out, then sat in the bleachers and cheered on my friends. The old me would’ve gone to the library (that’s what I did in junior high after my appendectomy) but the old me didn’t have nearly as many close friends.

Life goes on (fortunately!) and, banged up or not, today was the day we’d picked to turn in our Student Council forms. As before, we all went to the office together and filed together. What was nearly unheard-of last year — a full slate running together — was expected this year.

I got a few looks from the office staff. Perhaps word of the accident hadn’t spread? I had no idea. I just smiled and got on with filing.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t look like Frankenstein’s Monster in a few weeks. It’d make for an awkward presentation at the candidate assembly.

Of course, Jas and I talked at school, but we needed a bit of dating time, too. Thanks to Ang, we could go out to Pho King for dinner. She dropped us off, then went out to dinner with Paige, with a plan to pick us up in an hour.

We walked in holding hands. Huong did a double-take when she saw us. “What has happened?! I hope is not someone upset with you! Both of you!”

“It was,” I said, “but not the way I think you mean.”

“I mean about Jasmine.”

Jasmine smiled, nodding. “Not that.”

“I was driving back to Jasmine’s house on Saturday when a car hit us. I was able to avoid some of the impact from the collision...”

“He saved my life!” Jasmine said.

Huong’s eyes got bigger at that.

“That’s the part I avoided — getting him to miss slamming into Jasmine’s door. Anyway, he was drunk, and he decided that I’d wrecked his car and punched me a couple of times.”

“The...?” she said, pointing to her neck.

“Neck braces. Yes. Those are because of the accident. We’re both okay, we’re just being careful.”

“Good! You some of my very favorite customers! I like you very much! Want you safe!”

“Thanks, Huong. We both like you very much, too.”

“We do!” Jasmine said. “You’ve been so sweet to us.”

“You are wonderful to me! Send friends here, help get the word out, help convince Americans that our soup is not just for us, but for everyone!”

“One day, Huong, I think people will be nearly as aware of pho as they are of tacos.”

“Hah! I can dream! But I like your attitude.”

Jasmine gave me a curious look, and I nodded. I felt like I might’ve accidentally stepped on thin ice. Had I sounded too certain about the future? Maybe. I’d have to watch that. On the one hand: what could she really guess? On the other: Jasmine would likely be slower than Jessica to decide something was ‘off,’ but if she did, real trouble would brew up.

We ordered soup — I insisted on paying, this time, over Huong’s objections, though they were soft enough that I could tell I wasn’t offending her — and sat.

“You’re very nice to her,” Jasmine said. “Tacos is a bit much, though. Mexico has far more of an influence here. There aren’t that many of us.”

I chuckled. “Tacos really are a bit much. Still, you’re missing a couple of things.”

“What?”

“First, there are a lot of Vietnamese people moving here. It’s not going to be like before. Maybe not on the scale of Chinatowns, but there’ll be more Vietnamese in Houston, and America, than you’re thinking. That’ll put more pho shops out there. Curious gringos will go. And then, second, soup is much more ‘soup’ than it’s some strange and exotic new thing. Oh, the vegetables and seasonings are new, and you can get some meat choices that are exotic for gringos, but you get that with Mexican, too.”

“I can see that. And ... yeah. I can see the rest. It’s all new to me. We were almost the only Vietnamese people I knew for quite a while, except the family in France. I like Huong, and I feel some connection, but ... it’s like plopping your mother down in Germany. She wouldn’t have much connection with the people there.”

“I get that. I think that happens to a lot of Chinese people born elsewhere. Or British-born Indians, like Amit.”

She nodded. “Amit’s a great example. He’d be lost in India.”

“So ... back to soup. I was laying it on a bit thick with the reference to tacos, but I think pho could be more common than Thai, for instance. So ... not so common as tacos, but a thing gringos are commonly aware of.”

“That’s weird, but also ... yeah. I could see that.”

Huong hit the bell, and we went to collect our soup, then sat back down.

“So,” Jas said, “I didn’t mean to wind up talking about soup, really.”

“I figured,” I said.

“It’s ... I know you don’t want me to make a big deal over things. But ... it’s a big deal!”

I smiled. “Jas ... yes, okay? It is. But also, it’s not.”

“I ... don’t get it?”

“You’re right. You’d possibly have been seriously injured or worse...”

“Killed. Dead. Gone!”

“Or that, yes, if I hadn’t ... well, whatever. Steered, honked, all that.”

“So how’s it not?”

“What else was I going to do? What else would anyone have done? Just kept on going? Steered into the accident? I did everything I could because it’s the only reasonable thing I could have done. I mean ... don’t get me wrong. I’ve had almost too much time to think about it. If things had been worse ... you know me, or maybe you don’t. You haven’t seen me hit a big setback.”

“The idea is a little foreign,” she said, giggling.

“Partly that’s because I’m surrounded by people that help make me good.”

She started to protest, but I stopped her.

“No, I didn’t mean look good. I mean be good. I was good in the musical because of who I was with. Hard work and all, but with a different group of kids? Say, mean, competitive, cut-throat kids? It’d be totally different. And then ... well. I don’t wrap my self-image around winning State. So, if I don’t ... eh. I know I’m good, and I know I’m learning what I want to learn. One team wins State. It’s wonderful that it was Janet and Lizzie last year, but only one team wins. Dozens — hundreds — of people are winners, though.”

“So ... I see that. I mean, all of it. But you’re off topic.”

“Right. Anyway ... I’m human.”

She giggled, nodding.

“I’ve screwed stuff up and regretted it, and ... well. If things had been worse, I’d be kicking myself a lot, and I’d keep doing it for a long time. Not like ... hurting myself ... not with Ang, or Mom and Dad, to think about. Or Camille or Francis, for that matter. But I would be my own worst critic, and it’d take a long time, and a lot of therapy, to get over it. Yes, even with it not being my fault at all. Suppose it’d been a new moon? Nothing to see, no chance at all, but I would dissect the evening from every angle. What if I’d wanted to use the restroom at the Thai place? What if we’d strolled a little longer? What if we’d missed just one traffic light? Or made another? What if I’d gone a little faster or slower on the freeway?”

“I get it. I really do. I did that after the summer.”

“So, yes, it’s a big deal. But all the attention ... it’s not like I’m some soldier who could’ve stayed in the foxhole but ran out to save his buddies, or the guy who goes into burning buildings to save people, or some guy that took a boat into a raging flood to save people who’re trapped, like you see on TV all the time. I just steered, and I did it because it’s the only thing I could have done.”

“So...” she said, drawing it out. “All of that’s true, and yet, I’m sitting here talking to you because you steered, and honked, and ... I can’t set that aside. I can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to, but I’m also asking you to not make it too big. We’re pretty much equals most of the time. I’m better at some things, and you’re better at others. Some we’re both good at, and some we both kinda stink at.”

She gave me a mock-indignant look. “What do we both stink at?”

“Languages.”

“Hrmph. Fine. We do,” she said, then giggled. “We really do! I’m ostensibly French, and mostly I can just curse, half-heartedly at that!”

“You’re a bit better than that, and I can almost follow some Spanish, but it’s not our strong suit.”

“Okay, I agree. You were saying?”

“I was saying that we’re a couple, a team, partners. Neither of us is better than the other one. I love that you’re fine, and I love that I helped you to be fine. But it doesn’t mean you owe me anything, and acting like it does will eventually hurt us both.”