Mandarin Mannequins of Chinatown. Patricia Laurel

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      BANG! The oak door of the Edwardian condo slammed loudly. Angry footsteps clomped up the stairs. The girl’s ponytail swished furiously as if to announce that she was in no mood to be messed with.

      She threw her lunch box and backpack on the floor, kicked off her slip-ons and sent one flying in the air. Her almond-shaped eyes were flashing dangerous daggers like the women in her mother’s family when they get riled; her lanky frame tense and rigid.

      “Someone had a really bad last day at school. I’m amazed you didn’t turn the door to kindling,” a quiet female voice said behind her.

      “Oh. Hi Mom. Hi Dad,” Sammy looked down at the floor, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, kissing her parents. She retrieved the thrown shoe and placed it neatly beside its partner.

      Samantha Plum, 10-years old, resident of Bush Street in the Pacific Heights area in the city of San Francisco, California, was indeed having a bad day

      “So, Sammy, I take it the excursion did not go well,” Jack Plum said, hugging her. Sammy relaxed in her father’s bear hug.

      “Let’s go in the kitchen, Sweetie,” Yvonne Plum said. “We have something to tell you that will make you feel better, but you obviously need to tell us something first.”

      They followed Yvonne to her spotless kitchen. The whole condo smelled of lemon-scented Lysol — Yvonne always cleaned and set things right with a passion.

      Jack was more easy-going. His wife forbade him to help around the house afraid he might not do it right. He’d given up trying to follow Yvonne’s way of getting things done. He was content to retreat in the quiet of his study, to read or work on his laptop for as long as it took his wife to finish her household chores.

      Sammy loved hanging out in the kitchen with her mother; watching and sometimes helping Yvonne prepare meals. One of her many favorite things was the feel of the hardwood floor on her bare feet, sliding on the gleaming surface in her bunny slippers from her bedroom to the kitchen; sitting on the bench of their breakfast nook looking out the window and petting Delilah, the resident fat and furry beige-colored cat.

      Once in a while, a shriek from Yvonne announced that Delilah had brought home a present of a still quivering bird or mouse which she dumped on the windowsill or the floor. Jack became useful and disposed of the poor animal.

      Sammy petted the purring cat, picked her up and scooted down the bench to make room for her parents. On the table were a wrapped present and a plate of her beloved cream puffs, covered with sticky caramel glaze from their French friend Marie-Jeanne’s bakery on Fillmore Street.

      Her eyes lit up, but she waited for the right moment — talk time first.

      “What happened? I knew you weren’t too keen about going on this excursion to Alcatraz, but you changed your mind and said it would be interesting to see the island and the old prison with your classmates. It’s something else, isn’t it?” Jack asked.

      “I tried not to let it get to me before, but this time it just got too much,” Sammy said, biting her lip. “I can defend myself, but this girl Maya is a special student who can’t handle all the teasing.”

      “What were they teasing Maya about?” Yvonne asked, and suddenly snapped her fingers. “Of course! Maya is that sweet, beautiful girl who sits in your class. I’ve met her mother.”

      “These girls at school think they’re so hip. They don’t have anything in their heads, except brushing and tossing their silly hair around and imitating the way their singing goddess talk,” Sammy said, gritting her teeth.

      “All they do is buy teeny bopper magazines and read all about what their idol had for breakfast and who her latest boyfriend is. I mean, what’s up with that?”

      “Singer?” Jack asked. “Oh, you mean that girl who struts around on stage in her underwear and doesn’t really sing anything? Sam, it’s all just marketing hype. Pretty girls and boys are a dime a dozen. It’s what public relations sharks sell to adoring fans. Soon this pretty singer will be yesterday’s news in the plastic fantastic world of celebrities.”

      Sammy smiled. Dad sure had a way with words.

      “She sets a bad example for young girls,” Yvonne said. “She doesn’t even have an original thought. I’ve seen her interviewed on TV, and after a few minutes of drivel I turned it off in disgust.”

      “OK, so the little vamp is not a real artist,” Jack said. “Now let’s hear the reason you’re so riled up.”

      “When those girls tease me, I just ignore them, but today they were picking on Maya.” Sammy said, the anger creeping back.

      “They circled Maya and kept saying her mother dresses her funny. At first, she just stood there, smiling at them. And then Maya started waving her arms and tried to get away, but they held her there. They just laughed and laughed.”

      Red tinges formed on Sammy’s cheeks. “So, I went over and yanked one of the girl’s arm to get to Maya, but she lost her balance and fell hard on her butt.”

      Jack stifled a laugh. Yvonne gave him a frown.

      “Her friends ran to our teacher Mrs. Ramirez, and told her that I picked a fight with their girlfriend, who was still on the ground crying,” Sammy said, looking at her mother. “I told Mrs. Ramirez that I was just trying to help Maya, but I think you’re going to get a call from her.”

      “I don’t want you fighting, Sammy, but in this case I would have done the same thing,” Yvonne said. “I’ll call Mrs. Ramirez tomorrow.”

      Sammy felt much better now Not only was her mom the pickiest, cleanest person in the world, she was also good with confrontations. She never backed down, especially when righting a wrong.

      The problem discussed, with hopefully a solution to solve it, Sammy turned her attention to the treats on the table. The present wrapped in cool blue metallic paper and the cream puffs begging to be eaten.

      Yvonne looked at her daughter’s face full of anticipation. “Put that cat down and wash your hands before you eat one of those,” she said, pointing at the cream puffs.

      Sammy let go of the indignant Delilah whose purring time had been interrupted, and ran to the sink to wash her hands. She returned to the table and began scarfing down one of the cream puffs. Munching happily she pointed at the wrapped present.

      “Um, who is the present for?” Sammy asked, between mouthfuls.

      “We thought you needed a new one since the other one’s all used up from your last trip. And what a trip that was! Who would ever believe all the stuff happened, except the family, of course,” Yvonne said, thinking back to a year ago when her daughter, her mother and siblings were in danger from the duwende and her treacherous cousin, Jenny.

      “Go ahead and open it.”

      Sammy СКАЧАТЬ