fights andsword fights,wrestling matchesthat Khai neverwon butrefused to
lose.Khaiwouldrather breakbothof his ownarms than callAndyhis daddy.
Andy said Khai was pathologically stubborn. Khai insisted he merely had
principles.He stillremembered theirlongwalks homewhen theweightof the
sunwasheavierthantheirbook-filledbackpacksandtheconversationsthathad
takenplaceduringthosewalks.
Even now, he could hear his cousin scoffing at him. The specific
circumstanceseludedhim,butthewordsremained.
Nothinggetstoyou.It’slikeyourheartismadeofstone.
Hehadn’tunderstoodAndythen.Hewasbeginningtonow.
ThedroningofBuddhistchantsfilledtheroom,low,off-keysyllablesspoken
inalanguagenooneunderstood.Itflowedoverandaroundhimandvibratedin
hishead,andhecouldn’tstopshakinghislegeventhoughpeoplehadgivenhim
looks.Afurtiveglanceathiswatchconfirmedthat,yes,thishadbeengoingon
for hours. He wanted the noise to stop. He could almost envision himself
crawlingintothecoffinandshuttingthelidtoblockthesound.Butthenhe’dbe
stuck in a tight space with a corpse, and he wasn’t sure if that was an
improvementoverhiscurrentpredicament.
If Andy were here—alive and here—they’d escape together and find
something to do, even if it was just going outside to kick rocks around the
parking lot. Andy was good that way. Hewas always there when you needed
him.Exceptfornow.
Khai’sbigbrothersatbesidehim,butheknewQuanwouldn’twanttoleave
early.FuneralsexistedforpeoplelikeQuan.Heneededtheclosureorwhatever
itwaspeoplegotfromthem.Withhisintimidatingbuildandthenewtattooson
hisneckandarms,Quanlookedlikeonebadassmotherfucker,buthiseyeswere
rimmed red. From time to time, he discreetly brushed the moisture from his
cheeks.Justlikealways,Khaiwishedhecouldbemorelikehisbrother.
Ametalbowlrang,andthechantingstopped.Reliefwasinstantanddizzying,
likeanenormouspressurehadsuddenlydissolved.Themonksworkedwiththe
pallbearers to close the casket, and soon a procession filed sedately down the
centeraisle.Becausehedislikedstandinginlinesandtheclaustrophobicpressof