Chapter 8 - WE'RE OUT OF RICE

I had made a joke, with Bobby, and had used a " press'n peels", (the early post-its) to stick on his forehead to remind him- of the words he needed to practice. " Lazy Lads love to linger and lounge, laboring last. "

He saw the large box of stickers and asked me if he could use them. He had been inspired. Before you knew it every single item in my house would be wearing a post-it. They would ask me the name, and then the sign went up, in English, and under it in Phonetic Khmer. Hour after hour I heard their voices, " Window" "Door," " Rice" " Teapot" and of course Old Tek's "vacuum"

" Weed Wacker" (reed rackel)

I noticed other changes in the household, aside from all the comings and goings of various

"Buddies" and volunteers and was making mental notes.

"First, there is a strange odor in the largest sleeping room, I must look into the cause, second, my Irish Setter, Whisky’s behavior is getting very odd, and he seems a little thinner, need to run him to the vet, and supplies were running low, need to do a major shopping soon. Bobby seems to be in pain, his teeth need to be checked, making this a priority.“

But so much to do, so many appointments to make, and errands to run.

I grabbed my shoulder bag, and my keys, and thought, “ no time for my hair! Damn, it’s a tangled mess!” I snatched a pair of chopsticks from the kitchen drawer and wound my hair up, fastening it with the chopsticks. “ That’ll have to do!” I ran to my car and sped off, with my girls in tow.

Coming back from an appointment with Loretta, I came in my front door and heard strange noises, soft whimpers, and sighs from the kitchen. There, sitting on the floor were all my Cambodians, all thirteen! Long sad faces, tears flowing, a desolate, tragic-looking group. Seeing me enter, Mary began to wail! Kan was sobbing out loud, inconsolable. I tossed my bag, sat near Bobby, and asked, “what's wrong?” His head hung so low, I lifted his chin and saw his red eyes. " What is wrong, what is it, Bobby?"

It took him a while to find words to describe what was happening. But, apparently from their point of view, I was a kind, somewhat unwise woman, alone with two small children.

I was apparently without work, husband, or family and had foolishly allowed all the food to be eaten. And now, well we would all die together since they had now eaten all my stores of food, and they had searched, but there was just no more rice, not a grain. They had saved a little food in the bedrooms, most of which was rotting a little, but he said it might still be edible if we boil it. I thought, "Ah the strange smell in the sleeping rooms" They felt oh so guilty that they had brought me and my children to ruin, and they began crying out loud. Bobby hung his head even lower, and said, "I was hungry. Father said we must save food, so we only ate small portions, but I was still so hungry"

He gave a deep sigh, and cried, " I ate Whiskey's food, every evening! I beg you to forgive me!"

I sat there stunned, my jaw dropped in disbelief, and yet, this was happening. I didn't know what to say, or what to do. I knew no amount of talking right now would help. I called Bert, explained briefly, and asked him to get here on the double with the van. He arrived in ten minutes. We took off with most of the adults with us, Hung was still too sick, so Kan stayed to care for him, and all the little ones. Seng, beamed when his buddy Bert arrived, and so he came along too.

It was the first time any of them had seen an American grocery store, and I had chosen the largest in the area. I gave a cart to Old Tek, who led the way. A cart for Bobby, Bert, and Seng took one, too. We walked down the abundantly stocked isles. Their eyes were full of wonder, we piled things into the carts, one full of Ramen noodles, their breakfast favorite. Bottles of soy sauce and Hot sauce, piles of fruit, bags of vegetables, and with old Tek a bit giddy, a few large sacks of sweets for the kids. I had Bobby put the dog's food in the cart, and gave him a hug,” This is just for Whisky, You may eat as large a portion and as many portions of our food as you wish, and you may eat as often as you want. We will not run out of food.

I then asked Bert if we could also hit the Asian store nearby so that they could select some of their favorite condiments and specialties. There we could purchase huge bags of Asian rice, 50-pound bags. Again, delight and excitement were written across each face.

Both the van and my station wagon were crammed so full we could barely close the doors, and we headed home. I went straight inside leaving Bert and the others to handle the unloading. I sat sipping some tea with Kan, and hugging my daughters, as we watched all the food arrive. Bobby ran in with dog food and went straight to feeding Whisky. Tek was of course in charge and decided where things should be stored, and when he felt everything was coming in order, he took out the sacks of sugar candies and called the children. They jumped and clamored around him, in giggling glee. I reveled in the contrast in scenes, that had occurred here in my kitchen in a day.