“jet”

inspired by banter between client and masseuse @ Tuina on Dundas St W, TO

8 min, 2.15.13 @ my desk

Lucas heard the question but  the foul odor from the other side of the wall distracted him.  It wasn’t really a wall but a ruby hued floral bed sheet hung across the middle of the kitchen.  Ming had told him her grandmother’s ‘room’ was on the other side.  That was the first night she had invited him back for tea.  He hadn’t commented on it then and now it was too late.  It was just accepted this is how the family lived.

The old woman never made a sound and for the longest time Lucas assumed she was never there.  But the smells had been getting stronger and fouler the past few weeks.   He realized the old woman had always been on the other side of the curtain.  She had heard the awkward first kiss and every clumsy foray thereafter.  Something was burning.  It smelled like equal parts hair and flesh.

“Jedth?”  Ming repeated.

“Yeah, I should jet” repeated Lucas.  “Jedth?” she parroted.  He thought of all the words he had taught her in the past five months and realized he had never used slang.

“It means get going.  I should get going.”

She was completely perplexed.  The kettle hadn’t even started to boil.  Her delicate hands stirred the air in front of her, beckoning more words from him, words that would explain.  She understood that if he left he was never coming back.  That much she understood.