Girl in Translation

In the lingerie department, multicolored nightgowns, corsets, slips, bras were displayed like candy. Ma picked up a price tag, looked at it and shook her head.

It was clear I could never fit into any of those huge bras on display. They were for women with real breasts, not the little bumps I was growing.

“Ask someone for help,” Ma said.

I wanted desperately for her to be able to ask someone for me, to take charge as I was sure A

My entire body felt flushed even before I spoke. “Do you have this? For me?”

To my horror, the black lady burst out laughing. When she saw my face, she tried to stifle her giggles. “I’m sorry, honey, it’s just that you so little and this so big.” Her voice boomed.

“Come on,” she said. “What you need is a training bra. What size are you?”

“I don’t know. Seventy?” I made a wild guess based upon Ma’s bras, which had come from Hong Kong and were based on the European sizing system.

The woman started laughing again. “You just too much. Someday, I promise, you will grow up to be a real woman. No need to rush things, baby. Now, let me measure you.”

I pulled up my sweater as she took out a tape measure. I was embarrassed by my homemade undershirt, but at least this one didn’t have any holes in it. If the woman noticed, she didn’t say anything. I stared at the ground as she wrapped the tape measure around my chest.

“Thirty triple A,” she a

“No, thank you.”

I grabbed the box, Ma and I paid fast, and we left.

When I tried the bra on at home, I saw it was only a piece of flat cotton, but when I put it on, it looked like what some of the other girls had been wearing.

But the new underwear came too late. The teasing had already begun and borne by its own momentum like a speeding train, it continued.

The complexities of these kids were beyond me, and I thought about telling A

I brought it up at my tutoring session with Kerry and she’d looked thoughtful.

“That is really not okay,” she said. “You should tell the teachers.”

I worried that if I complained, the school would see me as a problem and regret letting me come. And in Hong Kong at least, the teachers would ask the parents of the kids involved to talk to each other, and how could Ma possibly stand up against Greg’s parents?

I finally decided to ask Matt at the factory.

“I need your help,” I said.

“You know I’m the boss,” Matt said.

“There are kids at school who pick on me.” I was ashamed to have to admit this. “I want them to stop.”

His golden eyes were kind. “That’s not right. Some idiots tried that on me and Park too.” Now, his grin faded.

“What did you do?”

“I fought the leader. But that’s not a good solution for a girl.”

“I was in a fight once, with the biggest boy in my class.”

“You? Miss Ski

“Okay, it wasn’t much of a fight. It turned out he actually liked me.”

“Maybe that’s what’s happening now.”

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” Then I smiled. I was sure Greg did not have a crush on me, but Matt had still given me an idea.

And so I waited until the next gym class. Up to the last moment, I wasn’t sure if I would be brave enough to see my plan through. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe. I paused in the doorway of the huge indoor hall, then walked up to where he was standing in the midst of all his friends. “Greg.”

Hardly any of these kids had ever heard me speak at all, and certainly not directly to them. Everyone quieted down.

Greg looked at me.

Despite my trembling legs, I smiled as kindly as I could. “I’m very sorry.”

He looked confused and also the tiniest bit ashamed. He probably knew he should have been the one apologizing. “For what?”

“You keep try to get my attention but I just not like you in that way.” Then I reached up to give him what I hoped would look like a patronizing kiss on the cheek. I missed in my nervousness, though, and kissed him on the corner of his mouth instead, which must have made my performance more convincing to all of the spectators. Despite his bravado, Greg was also only twelve years old at the time, and he was so shocked by my kiss that he started to sputter violently, as if he’d been stung by a hive of bees, and all of the skin that was visible in between his freckles flushed a dark red.

I was still unaccustomed to the vivid colors that white people could turn and he scared me so much that I sprang backward, but by this time the entire hall had exploded in laughter.

“Greg’s got a crush on Kimberly, Greg’s got a crush on Kimberly,” the boys chanted.

“Oh, come on,” he finally got out, but he was touching his lower lip with his finger-I think out of surprise-and it only made the teasing worse.

“Still feeling the kiss?” Curt asked with a wicked smile.

I don’t know how many of the kids actually believed me and how many simply took the opportunity to get back at Greg, who’d been hurtful to almost everyone at one point or another, but this turned the tide. He started avoiding me, and the teasing stopped soon after that.

As much as I tried to avoid her, I crossed paths with Aunt Paula one day as I entered the factory. I was still in my Harrison clothes and she looked me over with speculation. I greeted her, then hurried into the bathroom to change.

Later, she came over to our workstation.

“Big sister,” Ma said, worried. It wasn’t time for the usual quality inspection yet. “Is there something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Aunt Paula said. “I was just thinking that it has been so long since you’ve eaten rice at our house.” Rice meant di

Ma tried to hide her surprise at this generosity. Since we moved into our own place more than a year before, Aunt Paula had invited us to her house only once. “You give us so much face.”

“No, no. And let Kimberly wear something nice, maybe her school outfit.”

Now I was surprised as well. After Aunt Paula left, I turned to Ma. “I thought she was so angry that I was going to Harrison Prep.”

Ma thought for a moment. “Aunt Paula isn’t one to fight against things she ca

“So she isn’t upset anymore?”

“I didn’t say that. You must be very small-hearted when we are at their house.” Ma was telling me I should be careful. “You must be humble.”

“If Aunt Paula is still calculating-self, why did she invite us over?” Calculating-self means jealous.

Ma sighed. “Ah-Kim, you are not supposed to ask such direct questions. That does not befit a well-behaved Chinese girl.”

“I just want to understand so I know how to act there.”

Ma hesitated, then decided to answer. “If Aunt Paula ca

I finally had it. “Nelson. She wants me to set a good example for him.”