We fry Fish
Today, I’m sharing a short story that is semi-autobiographical. Let’s just say, the letter really happened, and the characters are inspired by my family. I wrote this ten years ago and recently just felt like sharing this one.
I hurried and turned the TV off. Quick, I had to pretend doing homework. “Nina!” My mother shouted when she got home. Then my sister came out of the bathroom. She listened to music all day long in there. They were reading a letter. “Yea, it's another complaint,” my sister said. Man not again I thought. “What is it this time,” Mama asked.
“The smell,” my sister answered.
“The smell?” Both Mama and I wondered.
“Distinct rotten fish smell coming out of our apartment,” my sister read out.
“It's the Buwad Ma,” I said. I knew that stinky dried fish would get us in trouble.
“Ma, you know it's that frigid woman across. She's been plotting against us since we moved into this building,” my sister said. Mama stared at the letter. “She's a racist,” my sister continued.
“No she's not. What makes you say that? She seems nice,” I blurted out.
“Oh Christina don't be so naive!” I hated it when my sister said that. Just cuz I'm the little one.
I didn’t think the Lady across from us was mean. She was just old. But I didn't want to say anything to them, they were really upset. Mama was like, “they stink more than us, when they cook their sauerkraut.” She was right though, that stuff was kinda gross. But so was the smell of the dried fish, especially for us cuz it stunk up the entire apartment. Our home was really really tiny. One bedroom, one living room, kitchen, bathroom and a balcony. When we cooked, the smell crept into every nook of every room. It was okay though, cuz Mama's cooking usually smelled good. But the Buwad, I did get our neighbors.
“Mama, maybe we should stop frying fish,” I said. My mother and sister looked at me. Mama seemed mad and my sister was annoyed. I saw that Mama was tired, she was kneading her shoulder. “Ma, she doesn't mean it like that,” my sister said.
“I mean maybe we can try cooking stuff that they like to eat too.” Then Mama looked even angrier, like the time when I asked if I could color my hair blond.
“Don't forget where you come from Christina,” Mama said and disappeared in the bedroom.
“It wouldn't hurt you to have our back,” my sister said and went back to the bathroom. She turned her music back on. I didn't understand why they were so upset. I wouldn’t forget where I came from. I was reminded when I looked around in our home. In one corner of the bedroom was Mama's altar with Maria and Santoninio. Just like the one my Lola had in Cebu. And the Filipino flag was hanging on one wall in the living room. So I wouldn't forget. I just wanted to be accepted.
Three days long Mama gave me the cold shoulder. The other day I met frigid Lady downstairs by the mailboxes. She must have had hearing problems, cuz she didn't reply again when I said, “Guten Tag!”
Later frigid Lady had visitors. They were sitting on her balcony. I heard everything she said. Like how annoyed she was by our Turkish neighbor from upstairs. She thinks he might sell his daughter for a goat. Funny, imagine Mr. Öztürk with a goat in his apartment. She also thought that our Polish neighbor stole cars and sold them in Poland. Then she said something really mean about Mama. The Asian woman she called her. The “cheap whore.” I knew what that meant. My sister explained once that those were women, who sold their bodies to men. And it was a bad thing, really really bad. My Mama would never do that. But frigid Lady made people think that Mama was a bad person. Then she said that my sister would become one too. I felt hurt. Why would she say that about my family? I don't want people to think that about Mama and my sister. I had to make her stop talking.
I went to the kitchen and took out the stinky dried fish. Then I squatted on the balcony floor. Focus, I had to aim for the open slot where the wall between our balconies ended before the ceiling. The first fish missed and hit the wall. But the sound made frigid Lady shut up. She wondered what it was. Then I threw the next fish and it went through. Frigid Lady screamed. Then I threw another one and she screamed again. She fled into her apartment, her balcony door snapped.
I started frying the rest of the fish. Cuz that's what we do.