Grains of Rice
I’d known nothing of the world outside of the Valley. Absolutely nothing. What I was used to was donut shops, video-games, smoky garages, marijuana, and forty ounces of beer. Long streatches of roads trudged on by metal and wheels, driven by the apathy of consistency. The occasional living room party. The every so often late night Denny’s parking lot hanging outs. But nothing big. The same people, over and over again. Recycled ennui.
Mai Ahn Mai changed it a little. She was funny and fun to be around. She taught me about sex and smiling at the same time. A kind of love I’d never knew about. It was emotional. It was romantic. Pretty colors inside eyes closed. Kissing and breathing each other. Beautiful man and beautiful woman making beautiful love without any words. Just in shared invisibility.
I did love her.
Somehow I let her leave. She was testing me. Always. And I failed. Always. She was testing me to see if I loved her, too. She wanted to see it. Although I’m sure I did, the extent of my expression came in crumpled up love notes. It wasn’t the sky writing or the parades and explosions she wanted. So she left. And I let her leave.
Sure, I cried. She was my first everything. But for some reason, I felt relieved. Something inside of me always told me she wasn’t the one. Even though I really wanted her to be. Because if she wasn’t, by default, it would be Anna Lisa Kristina.
It felt natural to wallow in sadness. To lie on my friends living room rug, cry sideways, not eat, not shower, roll around moaning every so often. So natural. But intolerable to Jack.
“Get out of my apartment, Xavier.” He said sternly. “I have no more food, you bastard.”
So I stood up, shrugged my shoulders and said, “Thanks for the living room.”
I ended up at Corn’s parents house. He let me sleep on his floor for a week. I cuddled with his cat. Replaced human friends with her.
One day, Corn said, “Hey Xavier.”
“What up.” I replied, kissing the cat.
“You want to be an actor?” He asked.
I thought about it. “Sure.” I said.
“You should audition for this one theatre company.” He said, smiling. “I think you’d be good at it!”
“Okay.” I said, petting the cat, feeling the purr.
“I saw them at Coldwater College. They were really good.” Corn said, excited for me. “They rehearse in East LA. They said they had auditions this Sunday.”
It sounded interesting. If anything, it’ll give me something to do on Sunday. “I’ll go. Do they got a name?”
“Yeah.” He said, thinking to himself. “Oh! They’re called The Grains of Rice Theatre Company!”
“What the fuck kind of name is that?” I asked, laughing out loud.
“They’re an Asian-American theatre company.” He said. “They travel across the country and do shows about being Asian-American.”
“What for?” I asked.
“I dunno.” He replied. “They were funny though. And pretty insightful. Ya know. About Asian-American stuff.”
“Hmm…” I said. I’d never heard of an all Asiam-American theatre group. I never knew one even existed. And they traveled across country doing shows? I didn’t even know there were Asians outside of the Valley. Something told me that would’ve been an interesting experience.
“Maybe there’ll be some cute girls!” Corn said, raising his eyebrows.
“Maybe.” I said. I stood up. Looked at Corn. Smirked. “I’ll go. I want to see what the world looks like. Outside of the Valley.”
“Sounds good.” Corn said. And he smiled, extra large.
