Noah Sales, Garlic Fried Rice

NOAH SALES

It was a humid Monday morning as the whirring of fans mumbled throughout the house and the sizzling of oil danced in the frying pans. He could hear his mother banging the metal pots together as she looked with her favorite spatula. He lied there in bed thinking about how they had moved to the U.S. a year ago from the Philippines. It had been one year since he started the fourth grade at Crown Hill Elementary School; a year of rushing to learn English or else he would be ostracized from the already-growing isolation he had been feeling. As a 10-year-old who emigrated from the Philippines to a new country, he was having a hard time adjusting to the culture shock. Now he had to start a new school year in the fifth grade.

“Food is ready! You better get up soon! It’s your first day of fifth grade! If you aren’t down here soon then I’ll make sure that today won’t be your last, Joseph!” his mother yelled from the kitchen below. She always had a fiery temper, typical of the most loving Filipino mothers.

Joseph rustled underneath the sheets as he heard the familiar voice of his mother wake him from his peaceful slumber; he had to face his fears once more and this time he had planned to overcome them.

The door slowly creaked as he recognized the pitter patter of his mother’s flip flops, her typical weapon of choice. She made her way up the stairs quicker than usual.

“Joseph, wake up. You’re going to be late, hah.” A thick Filipino accent penetrated the room, as her voice had found its way to pinch his ears.

“No, five more minutes,” Joseph said dreadfully as he turned in bed and burrowed into the pillow face first. However, he could not avoid the familiar aroma of garlic as it had stung his eyes closed. He tried to wrap himself in his blanket but to no avail, this scent had been proven to be impervious to his failed attempts. The smell was a growing reminder to his alienation that he had been feeling for a while already.

Fwoot! A short, shadowy figure raised its arm in the air like the flying bat lady of Filipino legend and the sun’s rays chased her away as the blinds flew up. Left behind in the monster’s wake was a short little brown woman who looked quite peeved. The noise startled Joseph as he peeked under the blankets to see Mother Mary dangling down as his mother stared at him. He saw her blue nursing scrubs against her Hello Kitty flip flops. However, the contrasting color palette of her clothing only made him more afraid of what he had planned to do.

“Five more minutes? No, in five minutes you better be downstairs ready to eat.” her voice was lightening to his ears. “You better get up or in five minutes you will be running downstairs, hah”.

“Ma, I-I don’t feel good...” he tried to come up with an excuse to stay home if he could.

“Oh, you don’t feel good? Well, I’ll give you something to not feel good about!” She bent down to grab her pink flip flop and Joseph noticed at the last minute as she wound up her arm.

“Ma, ma. I’m getting up!” he sprouted from the sheets as his mother lowered her arm.

“Anak, you can’t be late today. Come, let’s eat before I tell you one more time!” she yelled patiently. Nonetheless, it was better than the next yelling he would have gotten if he stayed a second longer. He had even thought about the possibility of her attacking him with her flip flop, which drove him to get up with quicker results.

As he dressed himself for the school day, his thoughts raced through his mind like the quick flopping noise of his mother down the stairs. The word “Anak” echoed through his mind when he got ready for school. It was a Filipino word of endearment that a parent would call their child. His mother had been saying it more often after his father passed away a year before they moved to the state. He left them alone together, his dream unfulfilled. Despite this, Joseph’s mother was able to find a nursing job at a hospital after she finished her accelerated program in the Philippines. However, she had to work the night shifts in order to take care of Joseph in the morning, they were all they had and she had done her best for her son.

Backpack filled, pants zipped, and shirt ironed, Joseph made his way down to the kitchen. He followed the scent of garlic and saw his food plated with fried rice. He looked at the food with a newly found disgust as he anxiously shuffled the mints in his pockets, which was his last defense. If he wanted to fit in at school then he cannot smell like garlic and the other random spices that a typical Filipino household uses.

“Ma, can I stay home?” his voice trembled as he approached her growing, towering figure in the kitchen.

“Stay home? Stay home? And then what? You stay home forever? No, you’re going to school unless you’re dying.”

“B-but ma-”

“No 'buts' unless it is your butt on that seat. Now eat,” she ordered him as he rushed to his favorite seat. He knew not to dawdle too long when she had given an order. “You better finish before the bus gets here.”

With such ferocity, two fried eggs slapped the browned-garlic fried rice as two slices of crisped spam slid next to it. He looked down at his plate as it looked back at him and he pushed it away, disturbed by what he had seen. Once again, the garlicky scent of the fried rice had pinched his nose in revulsion. He had to tell her, no matter the costs, even if it means breaking from his typically reserved nature. If he wanted to fit in at school, then he must be able to tell her. He had to resist her fiery backlash if he wanted to survive.

“Ma...” his voice trailed off as it hid for its life.

“Anak, you are already speaking, what?” Her accent had grown rougher as she noticed the growing unease of her beloved son. It was a stupid plot of him to act as if he was okay, but he could not have had hidden it worse than he did.

“I-I’m not that hungry...” he forced out as he had spoken the greatest of taboos: he had refused food in this household which meant to refuse life itself, which indicated that he had already given up.

The stove’s vents grew quiet as the oil to calmed down; they waited for the impending explosion to happen. The kitchen became trapped in time, controlled by the powerful presence that commanded the house. The short Filipino mother stood at the top of the food chain as she looked down at Joseph, who trembled at her stare.

“M-ma, I don’t want to eat this...Can I just have toasted bread?” What was left of the little courage he had, he forced it out before the silence overtook him.

“You want toast, hah?” She made him sound like a fool, but entertained his request.

She took off her apron like a warrior ready to blaze it out in hand-to-hand combat; the young boy shook as tears flooded his eyes. Her silence was louder than any of her prior yelling. He should have kept his mouth shut with the food and gotten ready for school, but he was too late. He stared ahead at the table, afraid of turning around and seeing what his mother would have done to him.

She lifted her hand near him and her shadow caused him to flinch as she grabbed his plate of food. He expected a 'palo palo', or a whooping, with her hand upon his rear, but was instead bewildered at his mother’s complacency to the deadly situation.

Ding! His time was up as she unmasked her presence and her shadow loomed behind him. His stomach grew quiet in submission to this intimidating power. He prepared himself for the inevitable palo palo as she grew closer. He clenched his eyes shut as he heard an object being placed on the table, most likely her weapon of choice.

“Here, Anak.” Her voice seemed to lose its power as he opened his eyes. She had set a plain plate of toasted white bread before him. The beige bread made his mouth drip with dryness. He questioned if he made the right choice, but he had already committed to avoid eating his typical breakfast. That was the first step in his plan to transition to American food. He carefully grabbed the bland piece of crunchy bread, which stunned his mouth and confirmed what his eyes had seen. Even with butter, the toast had tasted like nothing compared to all things he had eaten.

His mother stared at him with disbelief and retreated to the kitchen as he ate in crunchy silence. Her back was turned from the dining table that was a few feet away from her but it had felt like a growing abyss to the both of them.

“Salamat po, ma.” Joseph thanked his mom, as he got ready to finish up before leaving for school.

“Walang anuman, Anak." She responded.

“Ma, I’m going to get ready to head out.”

“Okay.”

“Is everything alright?” He noticed her loss of spunk, which seemed to bother him.

“Anak...”

“Yes, ma?”

“Was something wrong with my cooking?” He had never heard his mother ask him a question this peculiar.

“No, ma.”

“Then why didn’t you eat it? Why’d you ask for plain toast?”

“I-I...” he stuttered because he was afraid of telling her the truth.

“Yes?” She looked upon him tenderly

“Stink? It gives you bad breath, hah?”

“Yeah...”

“Is that why you ask for toast? So, you won’t be stinky?” \ “They make fun of what I eat at school, ma. I’ve been eating alone at lunch because my food isn’t like theirs.”

“Oh, okay. I understand, Anak.” And just like that his mother’s typical ferocity was quenched.

Something was missing when he went to school that morning, but he couldn’t quite pin what it was. It was either the empty lunchbox or his mother’s reaction to what he did. Nonetheless, Joseph had thought that this was the right direction if he wanted to fit in at school.

After the passing of his father, Joseph’s new found excitement to begin his first day of fourth grade had turned to despair when he slowly realized that he did not fit in.

“Hi everyone, this is Joseph and he will be joining our class today.” The teacher had him stand in front of the class and he felt like an animal being observed at the zoo.

“Hi, Joseph!”

“Hi, everyone,” he waved shyly as he tried to hide his accent, though a few kids chuckled when they heard him speak.

“Alright class, make Joseph feel at home. This will be your seat.” The teacher gestured towards a chair next to a toothless boy with ruffled brown hair.

Joseph grabbed his pencil bag and notebook after he had put his backpack away in its own personal cubby. He took his seat and the entire duration of the teacher’s lesson was coupled with this strange child staring at him.

Ding Dong!

“Alright everyone, it’s time for lunch! See you back at class. Joseph, just follow Jared and he will lead you to the lunch tables,” she said as she directed him to his

“Hi, Joseph. I’m Jared.” A toothless grin welcomed him.

“Hi, nice to meet you, Jared,” he tried to say with his cleanest American accent.

“You have a really cool voice!” the boy said in excitement.

“Oh, thanks...”

“Come follow me, it’s time for lunch!” Jared gripped his lunchbox.

The ruffled, toothless boy led Joseph to a lunch table with a few of his own friends from other classes. “Hey everyone, this is Joseph,” Jared stated as the group welcomed Joseph.

“Hi...”

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Jared asked as he took out his yellow dyed twinkie, beige sandwich, and juice box. The rest of the kids had similar lunches with different sandwiches and Oreos littered throughout. The children began to trade their different snacks as Joseph looked on in amazement. His mom would be fuming if she found out that he traded his food for a yellow, sugary, cake, tube looking thing.

“Oh... for my baon I brought garlic-fried rice and spam that my mom made for me”

“Bah own? What?” Jared asked.

“Sorry, we call our lunch 'baon' in the Philippines.”

As he opened the container at the table, everyone began to make faces of disgust when they smelt the harsh garlicky scent. They were all perplexed by the slabs of spam and oozing egg yolks.

“That’s c-cool, Joseph...” Jared stuttered as he watched Joseph slide pieces of spam, ketchup, and garlic rice into his mouth.

“Do you wanna try some?"

“N-no, thank you,” Jared and his friends scarfed down their food and made their way to the playground in a rush. “We’ll meet you at the monkey bars when you’re finished!”

The school year approached its final weeks. Since his first day of school, Jared and his friends began to slowly leave Joseph to eat by himself. They did not even want to trade their food for what he had. Nevertheless, this had become the norm for him, but the ever-growing isolation compelled Joseph to finally ask Jared why they avoided him. He wanted to know their reasoning and did not want to start the same cycle during his fifth-grade year.

“Hey, Jared?”

“Mm-yeah?” Tuna fell out of his mouth as he chugged his juice box.

“Are we friends?”

“Bro, we sit next to each other in Ms. Pree’s class. Of course, we’re friends! Duh.”

“Do you like me as a friend?”

“Yeah, you’re cool. As long as you don’t have cooties we’ll always hang out.”

“Yeah...” his accent slipped as he replied but Jared noticed that he was more reserved than usual.

“Are you okay, Jose-”

“Jared, hurry up! Christian is the lava monster,” a little boy screamed from the playground because Jared was taking longer than usual.

“I’m hurrying up! Sorry about that Jared. Meet us at the playground when you’re done!” Jared began to run off but was stopped beforehand.

“Wait, Jared.”

“Huh?”

“It’s been like this the whole school year.”

“What do you mean?” Jared noticed Joseph’s accent growing rougher and became concerned.

“I’ve noticed the faces, laughter, and how you all are in a rush to leave me at the lunch tables...”

“Did I do something wrong? I’m still trying to figure out everything here”

“No, you didn’t. If you did then we wouldn’t be friends or hang out on the playground.”

“Then why do you all seem to be in a rush during lunch?”

“Well...it has to do with what you eat...” Jared sheepishly replied, he couldn’t lie to.

"Joseph..."

“Huh?”

“Your food. It looks gross and smells really weird. We’re not used to that type of food.”

“Oh...”

“Don’t take offence though, we still want to hang out with you.”

“Okay.”

“Lighten up bro! I’ll meet you at the playground!” Jared ran off as Joseph was given a revelation. Soon after he looked up and saw Jared dangling from the monkey bars, Joseph got up and threw away his untouched food into the trash.

He didn’t have to tell her everything, but his simple statement about the food spoke loudly to her that fateful morning. He had gained the audacity to ask for something different and she obliged without a fight. A week had passed since his first day of fifth grade and every morning he had eaten a plain American breakfast with typical American lunches and snacks at school. Joseph would wake up happy now that the kids were hanging out with him at lunch and happily traded their food for his. However, he noticed his mom slinking away in the kitchen whenever he would come down for breakfast. Her typical vibrant morning fire had been replaced with a dull energy, reminiscent of her extremely melodramatic Filipino soap dramas. He hated watching their overblown acting but it was different with his mother. She seemed to be deeply hurt, but he brushed it off.

Today, he had done his normal routine and made his way downstairs to the

kitchen for breakfast before school. As always, his mother tended to the now quiet kitchen, which oddly disturbed him more than that Monday morning. This eerie silence peeved him to the depths of his soul as he tried to ignore it.

On Monday, Joseph started think about the agreement he made to trade his Oreos for Jared’s twinkies last Friday. However, he felt convicted and couldn't stand his mother's painful acceptance.

“Morning, ma.” He sat down on the cold wooden seat and waited for his mother’s delayed response.

“Morning.”

“Here’s your toast and eggs,” she had broken the silence as the plate slid in front of him.

“Thanks, ma,” the pricking continued.

“Uh huh,” she responded with little effort as she walked around barefoot in her blue scrubs. Her dead resolve reflected itself in the still kitchen. Joseph knew what he had to do, but did he have the strength to do it? He had already insulted her cooking and was given mercy. There was no spanking, just silence between them since that day and that was a worse punishment.

“M-ma? D-do we have leftover rice in the fridge?” He mustered the courage to restore order to the kitchen.

“Yes, Joseph. Why?” his mother responded with much spark.

“C-could I have some garlic-fried for my baon today?” He loved his mom too much and had to bite the bullet. It was twinkies or his mom, and he could never have had traded her for anything.

“Hah?!?”

“Please, ma.”

“Of course, Anak!” she slipped on her pink Hello Kitty slippers and grabbed her favorite spatula, the one with a little heart-shaped chip at the edge.

Her raging fire returned suddenly as the kitchen began to dance to the tune of her cooking. She composed the oil and rice into a symphony as the garlic forced its way into the mix. The vents of the microwave hummed with delight as Joseph watched his mother’s joy overtake him. The garlic fried-rice wasn’t finished without the additions of two perfect fried eggs and spam. Minutes before the bus

came, she slid the food into one of her favorite glass containers, wrote on a piece of paper, and chucked Joseph out of the house. As he was heading out, he heard the rushing pitter patter of her flip flops as she gave him a big hug. Of course, she did it before the bus came to spare him of embarrassment. She slipped him a bag of shrimp crackers as he walked down the driveway to the bus stop nearby.

“Love you, Anak!” she yelled as he got in the bus and he smiled back as he waved her goodbye.

"Love you too!" Joseph waved back.

Once he got to school, he couldn't wait until lunchtime.

Ding Dong!

“Alright class, I’ll see you in 35 minutes.” His teacher said to the whole class.

The fateful time arrived as he took out his food, his friends noticed it and began to slowly drift away.

“Okay, Joseph. I have two twinkies to trade for your pack of Oreos...” Jared glanced over at the glass container in front of Joseph. He had grown accustomed with Joseph’s new lunches and was surprised by the sudden reversion.

“Sorry, I don’t have any Oreos today. But my mom packed some shrimp crackers if you want to try some?”

“Um...I think I’m fine” Jared quickly replied. This time he stayed longer with Joseph because he was curious about the sudden change. He began to eavesdrop when he noticed Joseph taking out a note from his lunchbox. The note read: Mahal Kita, Anak. Joseph’s smile was brighter than the sun and Jared was rather perplexed as to the occasion, “What does may hal keeta, a nack mean?”

“Oh, it says 'Mahal Kita', which means 'I love you' in Tagalog. My mom wrote it for me because she loves to cook.” Joseph translated and decided to keep the meaning of Anak to himself.

“Woah, that’s really cool!” Jared’s never really heard much outside of English and the occasional Dora episode that would come on at home in the morning.

“Yeah.”

“So, your mom likes to cook that,” he said gesturing towards Joseph’s food.

“Mmhm.”

“And you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Well, I can’t argue with you on that. Can I actually try one of your shrimp crackers?” Jared’s curiosity began to prick at him.

“Of course. But it is a little weird.” Joseph handed a small, curled white chip. Jared shoved the whole thing in his mouth as Joseph stared in disbelief. He chewed and chewed and chewed, very similar to a cow.

Then finally with much contemplation he exclaimed, “It’s not that bad, Joseph!”

“Thanks,” he replied as they both chuckled, since this was new for the both of them.

“Jared, we need five people to play this round of catch the tiger!” A boy from the playground called out to him.

“Coming!” He inhaled his food as fast as he could. “Well, I’m going to head off to the monkey bars if you wanna join after! I’ll try some more of those shrimp crackers later!” Jared ran off with his toothless grin.

“Okay! I’ll be there in a bit!” Joseph smiled as he unpacked the rest of his lunch.

Joseph found himself alone once again, but this time it felt different. He opened up the container as the eggs, spam, and garlic-fried rice smiled up at him and he smiled back. The scent of garlic wafted from the container and danced in his nostrils with much delight. This was definitely better than plain toast.

THE END