“to.” I read.

“and.” I continued as she flashed through the stack until…

“Uh… Tu Hu Eee?” I remember scratching my head from being so confused.

“The.” She corrected me with her warm voice, “This word is the.”

Well I can tell you one thing. For some reason I never forgot it. Maybe it was the nice way she corrected me or maybe it was just the simple fact that it was that time. Time for me to chisel it on the brain…

Immediately after the assessment, two girls took each of my hands and excitedly showed me around the room. I wasn’t afraid or nervous. I kinda expected to be approached I guess. I was a pretty confident kid. Eventually, as days passed, I made friends and had a new best friend every week pretty much. Except for Angel that is, she stayed pretty consistent as the best friend.

By the end of the year I was stuffing mud in other kiddie lunch boxes if they were mean through first grade where I really got comfortable. I was different so I had to make myself comfortable. I only knew black or white. I, was Filipino. What was that? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was the shortest kid in the class but could out scream or out smart any kid no matter how big or tough they were. Don’t ask me why, I just was.

One first grade day during recess, I was waiting in line for the monkey rings. Finally, it was my turn. My heart was beating fast and as I took a deep breath with both hands ready to swing and coordinate one after the other my way across the obstacle, my concentration was interrupted by an irritated, “Hurry up chinese girl!” I turned around angry to see some bigger blonde boy and screamed with my eyebrows rumpled and fists balled up at my sides, “I’m NOT chinese! I’m Filipino!”

He looked confused and gas faced, “What’s that.?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” I said as it dawned on me that yeah, I did not know.

So I monkey ringed across and continued on my way through the tanbark.

On another first grade day, I went into my desk to find that my Hello Kitty mechanical pencil was missing. I was devastated because papa got it for me in Japan on one of his business trips so it was special. As I walked back to my desk, I noticed that Shanette, sitting in front of me, was using my pencil.

“Hey that’s my pencil!” I told her.

“No it’s not, this is mine.”

“No I know because my papa got one for me and my sister! Look (I took off the cap to show her how the eraser had a “c” on it because my mom wrote it on mine and an “m” on Marlie’s so we wouldn’t get them mixed up.) See? That’s a letter c for Christina!

“No my Aunt gave this pencil to me and she did that.” She argued.

So I frowned and plotted how I would get her back. After school, when I got home, I took my math learning toy and wrote Christina Madrid on the back and the next day, before Shanette got to class, I hid the toy in her desk. Once class started, I raised my hand and told Ms. Burger that Shanette had my toy in her desk. Shanette glared at me and spun herself around with her back facing me and she crossed her arms in anger. To Ms. Burger’s surprise, there was my toy.

“Oh yeah and that pencil is mine too!” I said.

So got it back, happy as can be while Shanette got sent to the Principal’s office for stealing.

I only remember a few things about the move. There was this big moving truck that had its rear in so this huge ramp could slide and stick out of it into our driveway. Mom and Papa had another one of their parties and snuck out back to ride my pink trike. I remember looking at the ramp and double checking to see if anyone was paying attention as I hopped off and pushed it up the ramp and all the into the truck. I got on my bike as it faced the opening like i was looking at a light at the end of a dark tunnel, took a deep breath and pedaled as fast as I could! I went “ZOOM” through the truck and “ZOOM” down that ramp and skid myself into a screeching gravel crunching stop!

“Whoa.”

And I did that through dusk, to dark, until Mom called me in for bedtime because for some reason, no boxes ever got loaded with all the drinking and laughing I guess.

The next day, they loaded the moving truck with all our boxes and furniture and we loaded the red pick-up with snacks and blankets. Then we walked around the empty house. Freeway sniffed at territory and mom sniffled as she held back tears. When night came, a small white van drove up and papa called Marlie and me to tell us, “Ah, you have to say bye to Freeway because he cannot go with us. The place that we are moving to doesn’t allow dogs.” We both screamed and cried as a man came out of the truck, took freeway by his leash, and led him into the back. “You know he’s going to be helping people.” Mom said, “He is going to a place where they will teach him how to become a dog that will help blind people.” We cried and tried to convince him that we could bring him along but Freeway obediently stepped in, the doors closed, and the truck drove off.

We all hopped into the truck and Marlie and I were still crying. Papa tried to make us feel better so he told us everything’s going to be ok’s and threw in a, “The place we are moving to is going to be nice! It’s the safest city in the US you know that?”

One day while we were playing with the phone, we heard Mom screaming again as usual only this time, it was only her.

“Marlie! Christina! Stop playing with the phone and come here!”

We ran out of the room to find papa lying face down with the most horrific look on his face! He looked like he was crying and trying to talk but no sound was coming out of his mouth.

“Mom what’s happening to papa! Why is he like that?!” I said as Marlie started to cry.

“Because you’re playing with the phone!” She screamed as she grabbed the phone and made a call.

I started to cry. Marlie was already crying. Mom was screaming crying while telling Papa, “They’re coming! They’re coming!”

An ambulance with flashing red lights came up as men carried papa onto a stretcher, into the truck, closed the doors, and drove away with the 3 of us crying. Mom called her sister who we called “Mother Darling”. Darling, because she always ended everything with “darling” and Mother, because her two daughters, our cousins, called her Mother. After only a few minutes, there was a knock at the door and there stood Mother Darling with her big black sunglasses even though it was dark out. I didn’t know at the time but she always wore sunglasses because the had the black and blues. So there she was and off went Mom.

For the next few days, or what felt like days at least, Mom came in and out of the house with things for Papa and told us that he’s be back after the operation. Mother Darling tried to explain that Papa had a heart attack and was very lucky that he made it. Finally, after what seemed like days, one morning, Mother Darling said, “Your Papa’s coming back home! Want to wait by the window? They’re on their way home right now.”

So we did.

Mom’s car drove up the driveway with Papa in the passenger seat and Marlie and I waited in front of the doors like we did everyday for papa.

The door opened.
We screamed, “Papa!”
Began to run.
And were stopped.

Papa walked crooked and Mother Darling said, “Oh no girls. Your papa can’t carry you guys anymore. He just had a heart attack.”

So our arms went down at our sides and we followed Papa into the room. He sat crooked in bed and we jumped on to ask our million questions and began to pick at the big foamy donut shaped stickers on Papa’s chest. I put one on papa’s forehead. and Marlie put one on his cheek. We laughed and joked as usual and everything was looking like it was all going back to normal.

‘Cept for no more carries that is.

I remember the day we picked out Freeway. Papa wasn’t around as much because he was far away with a new job that would fly Mom, Marlie and me to visit him on the weekends for the few hours that he wasn’t working. He’d come home to Covina every once in a while and on one of his nights home, the four of us got in the red pick up and drove to a house that we had never been to before. We rang the doorbell and a woman answered. She propped the screen door open and gestured for the four of us to step in and follow her. we walked to the back of the house and up to the laundry room where a flattened box blocked the doorway. Marlie and I stepped up and peeked to find puppies and puppies to our surprise!

“Go ahead. Pick one!” said papa.

So we picked and on the way home papa couldn’t stop talking about how cool this dog is going to be because as he put it, “This is going to be a good one ha guys? It’s da best. Pure Bred han!” Man he was more excited than we were even.

Freeway was furry and about thigh high tall but got bigger and bigger by the day. When he got to be his full size, the four of us would be swimming in the hot tub and he’d just jump in making all the water overflow from his largeness. When he sat on the couch, he took up the whole thing. Marlie and I would watch Looney Tunes while leaning on him like he was our couch when he’d sit in the den in front of the t.v. He was cozy, soft, and friendly. He would let Marlie and I ride on him like a horse even!

It was lots of fun having good company to keep our minds off of papa’s new job away from home.

I remember standing under the too tall to reach monkey bars and being approached by a peer who said with a disgusted look which also could’ve just been her eyes squinting from the sun, “Why do you always wear that dress?”

It made me mad so I yelled in her face with a, “Because I like to WHY?!”

And she cried and ran away from me across the tanbark to tell on me for screaming at her.

I had a screaming problem. See, when I was back at the preschool, while the teachers had to talk to my parents about Marlie being too much of a sleepy head that a teacher had to sit behind her while she ate her lunch so she wouldn’t fall asleep, they’d have to tell my parents that I had “a strong personality”. That’s how they put it nicely. They used the example of how I yelled at this boy at my table for mispronouncing a word. When he said, “Can you pass me the lellow crayon please?” I yelled, “It’s not LELLOW!”

Before Kindergarten, Marlie and I would look over at the big kids during recess, wanting so badly to play and swing and run all over that hugemongous monster of a playground but my first days of Big kid hood were sad for me because it meant that Marlie and me were no longer a team, no longer together in the classroom. Kindergarten meant that now, our classrooms were far far away and recess meant a chain linked fence between us.

On the way to our first day of school I told Marlie to remember to meet me at the fence. As social as I was, little butterfly me, I bolted for the gate and Marlie and I met and talked our stories. The fence had ivy and bushes of some sort growing all along and up and down it except for the area where the locked gate hung hinged and locked waiting to be unlocked. We were there for a while and I don’t remember what we talked about but I do remember telling her, “Hey you know what the big kids say when they get mad? “

“What?” she said.

“They say ‘fuck’. Aaw fuck.”

“What’s that? she said looking confused with her brows all a crumple. she had some well defined brows.
“I don’t know but it’s a big kid thing.” I said.

Then she tried it with an,”Ooh fuck. I wanna play on the big kid playground too.”

“Yeah… Oh there’s Mrs. Teacher. She’s gonna make me go away now.”

Mrs. Teacher came up looked at me while saying, “Ok girls. You both need to go play now. You shouldn’t be so far from the yard duty’s sight ok?”

So I left and went to play. We had monkey big monkey bars and taller swings. I made some friends then made some more. We played all kinds of games and I forgot about the fence between team Marlie and me because I was a cool 5 year old kid now.

I liked pretty things. I wanted to take gymnastics but mom and papa enrolled Marlie and me in tap and ballet instead. I remember standing in front of the mirror and tap dancing the only steps and shuffles that I knew. Eventually, mom and papa took me out of the class for whatever reason so when my shoes got too small, I taped two pennies to the soles of my favorite pair of shoes and danced the same steps until it got old. What a nice sound that clickity clack made. I don’t remember if Marlie liked tap as much as I did but we had a lot of other things in common and got along really well! We were best buds.

Together, Marlie and I made the best team. Oh we were bad. Upon entering the hallway that led to the guest bathroom and bedrooms, one would be welcomed with colorful crayola crayon scribbles galore created by yours truly and Marlie. 3 or 4… 4 or 5… we were now one of those ages… She was a year younger than me, 15 months to be exact. So as big sister, I did my job of showing her how to do things. And as a big sister would, if we did something bad, I found ways to make her take the wrap. Reason one of two was because of the duh that I didn’t want to get in trouble and two of two was because I figured that she wouldn’t get in as much trouble as I since I was supposed to know better.

One day I thought it would be fun to have a contest so I told Marlie, “Hey let’s have a contest! Let’s see who could make that highest mark on the wall by the bed!”

So we hopped on our mattress which was positioned with the head side of the bed up against the wall, she on her side of the bed and me on mine. We jumped and jumped making mark after mark as high as we could. I don’t remember who won but I remember having a lot of fun! So with how exciting everything was, I proposed a new challenge, “Oh hey let’s make a really big happy face! Jump up so we can make it really high. You draw your half and I’ll draw my half.”

So again we pounced or highest hits on the wall as we dragged our crayons to form our happy face hemispheres. Dot and dot for the eyes. Dot went the nose and happy went the curve of the face. Though I don’t remember, I imagine that at some point my mom walked in screaming, “Punyeta!” and spanked us with a slipper or something which was a typical thing for her to say and do every time she got mad but I don’t remember that part really.

At nap time, I was the squirmy one who didn’t take the time to catch any Z’s while Marlie had no problem falling asleep so much that the teachers had a meeting with my parents to discuss our “development”. The two key points to be covered in the meeting were:

1. Naps

2. Language

One…

“Ok Mr. and Mrs. Mandarin, So we’ve noticed that Marlie has a very hard time waking up from her naps. We are concerned that she is not getting enough sleep at night.”

“Oh no”said Mom. “The two girls go to bed a 8 every night.”

“Oh. Ok well now let’s move on to the next issue…”

Two…

This is the part where Ms. Teacher pulled out a notebook with some scribbles of words.

“Poonays” What’s this she said, pointing at the word scribbled in pencil.

“Oh! ‘punas’ means wipe in tagalog, our language.” Said my mom.

Papa just sat smiling. I think he was embarrassed.

“Oh ok now ‘tah-bow’ what’s this?”

“Ah a ‘tabo’ is a plastic tub that we use at home to wash up after using the toilet.”

“Oh I see because the girls wanted me to use the ‘tahbo’ and ‘poonas’ I see. Now do you speak to your daughters in tag-a-log at home?

“It’s pronounced tah gah lowg. Tagalog. Yes we speak it at home.”

“Well, we think your daughters, now being in America, will have a hard time communicating with people if you continue to speak to them in your language. Can you make sure you only speak English to them from now on?”

“Oh yeah ok.” said papa.

And so they did. They did not speak to us in Tagalog anymore. Funny mom and papa did not correct her by stating that we were both born in Glendale.

“Yak yak yak Dak dak dak!” We knew a little bit of tagalog but not too much so that’s what it sounded like to me.

Mom stood facing papa about six feet away with his back facing the double door entrance as she smashed porcelain roosters one after the other by throwing them at papa who was ducking with his elbow blocking the shots to protect his face.

“Yak yak yak Dak dak dak!” went mom.

“smash”

“plunk”

“Honey!” was all papa could get in between her splurs of “dak dak dak”

And so when she was done with the roosters, they continued to scream as they transitioned by moving the fight over to the kitchen. Marlie and I thought it was a game. We were laughing because we thought it looked fun breaking glass so we walked into the middle of the abandoned battle ground and picked up the big pieces to smash against the door like mom was. Man it was fun. Mom had a knife. They both kept screaming and Marlie and I just continued to play with the broken pieces.

Twisted I know, but that was the usual. Screaming and yelling was the way we communicated in that house behind the closed doors of family outings and smiling family portrait photo albums.

Those two were always watching t.v. cause it was all they knew and all they had to relate to each other. They never traveled. They never went out without us kids. Never went on dates. Papa always used to say, “See? We never go out without you guys. We’re not like other parents who don’t care.” But I think it was just because papa didn’t care to take mom out. She was no longer beauty pageant material and she was growing bitter from constantly biting her tongue until explosions would happen. Man when she nagged, she nagged. So to hide all the dysfunction, we did the regular family stuff to fit the all American way. The four of us would go to the park and have Kentucky Fried Chicken picnics, eat crab and chase pigeons at Redondo Beach, take pictures in Solvang, drive up to the top of Mountains and make wishes… Looking back now, papa wasn’t happy, he was just trying to be. He wasn’t born to raise kids. He was born to charm women and die alone but somehow, got lucky enough to charm a mistisa into becoming his bride and giving birth to his children in hopes of having a boy to pass it all down to.

One day we drove up to Big Bear in our red Toyota pick-up and pulled over on the side of the road to make wishes. With papa in the middle, Marlie and I with our rice bowl silver spoon haircuts each held his hand and closed our eyes when he said, “Ok you ready? Close your eyes and make a wish.” I thought we were on top of the world. I wished to be a gymnastics champion because I was always amazed by the flips and the jumps. Why it stands out I don’t know but I remember that moment. I remember feeling really good. It might have been the first time I experienced the feeling of hope.

I remember the rush and excitement of finding the perfect hiding place (which always ended up being in the hallway by the double door entrance). Papa always knew how to make a grand home entrance from the way he’d quietly turn the key thinking we couldn’t hear it to his burst through those doors with the loudest roar and biggest teethy smile ever. Mom always stood there with a drum roll smile that made the moment so heart pounding! The entrance was always followed by a tickle war and daily surprise. Papa brought Marlie and I a new toy almost everyday from the toy factory he worked at because he wanted us to have the newest toys before any other kids on the block could get their hands on it.

One of the days that papa came home, he made his entrance with two yellow boxes that were too big to hide but hid them behind his back anyway. I remember being really excited because he never brought home something so big! Marlie and I had to try and contain ourselves while papa played the suspense card as he slowly swung both boxes so proudly in front with the cellophane window facing us to see our surprise.

“Cabbage Patch!” We squealed as mom and papa smiled.

I always got what I wanted because I was older so in my (now but not then embarrassing) way, grabbed the long haired brunette with the pink corduroy outfit named Kathy and Marlie got the short haired blonde one in bloomers named Cory. We were very girlie and not in the sense that we weren’t sweet and quiet like every other well behaved kids. At parties and adult gatherings? Yes. In general? No. We were nuts. You’d a thought it was Christmas with how we ripped those boxes apart from all the excitement. We ran to our room with our new friends and played til dinner… to bedtime. We must’ve been so excited that the “patches” made us forget to draw on the walls.

Spoiled. Marlie and I were spoiled brats.