The Treadmill in the Kitchen

That treadmill was like an attic, an afterthought. I never asked why it was in your kitchen; all I cared about was the rice cooker that sat on its sagging track with the empty fruit pallets, opened letters, so many Buddhas, my socks in various stages of being knit. I remember your Goldbond Anti-Aged hands holding my fingers and pressing them against the different fridge magnets you’d pinned to the cork board. A kangaroo with its little joey popping out to say “Australia!” Two coconut trees with a pair of sunglasses and the bright blue word “Belize.” There seemed to be hundreds. I asked which was your favorite. With crinkles in your crow-footed eyes, you pointed to me: United States my favorite. Home. But mixed with that pride, sadness. A longing for that old land. You said it was a lost cause, convinced Ong Noi you were too old to travel. That night you burned dinner. The caramel was black on the pork belly. I smiled through the char and kept it down to make you happy, still marveling at that treadmill-cork-board-shrine. A red Vietnamese zodiac calendar. A boat in a glass bottle made from toothpicks and superglue. A rock that bore a resemblance to a heart with my initials on the back. When I left your house, you gave me food. TSA threw a fit when they realized my suitcase wasn’t actually a bomb, but ice packs, bags of frozen raw meat, and whatever else you had spent weeks making. You put the bánh mis in my backpack; I had to eat them fresh.

I never asked whyit was in your kitchen; allI cared aboutwas the rice cooker dst so many
Buddhas,mysocks in hand holding my fingersandpressingWith crinkles inyour crow-footed
eyes,you pointed to me: United Statesmy favorite home.something mixed with that prideSadness
aLonginat oldland.convinced ThatNightyouburnedThe caramel wasblack.on the pork
belly.The charandkept it down.still marveling at A boat in a glass bottle that vaguelybore
resemblance to a heart with my initials.The next day whenYou gave me whatfood. TSA t hrew a fi
t when they you keptmy suitc fresh.ases feel acutely empty.

bbbI askedwhy it was in yo caredaboutwas the rice mysocks in me:bbbbbbbbbb
United homeLongiland. You said itwas conv night youburneddinner. el wasdown.tobbbbbb
A boat that vaguelyboreea resemmesofresh.