Quail

I'm working today. That's good. These kind of days just make me regret leaving.

We're in a rich house today, per usual. I change windows, I insulate attics, I replace furnaces - parents warn their children about having futures like mine. It makes them want to study, so they have something more, because I am worthless to them.

It makes me cynical. It makes me want to chip their marble floors.

"Are we done?" I say to Max, who's manning the machine today.

"Yeah, right after I finish this room. Can you get the toolbox from the kitchen?"

"Okay." I walk out of the room, down the stairs. There are old bedspreads and table cloths spread along the floor like a runway. It's kind of nice, having a path to walk on, but I'd rather steal the sheets and use them at home. Not home. I don't know.

"We're almost done," I tell the woman in the kitchen. She smiles at me, old eyes.

"Would you like something to eat?" She says. Her dialect is a little different than mine, but I can understand her.

"No, it's okay. We're leaving soon. We'll be finished tomorrow," I say, suddenly shy. "Thank you," I add quickly. I can't forget my manners.

"Please, please, don't be bashful. Sit, eat. I am making quail. Or if you have to leave, take one for you and your friend." She tutters around the kitchen. "I will wrap it for you then."

I laugh a little to myself. Quail - expensive meat. These Chinese mothers - sharp tongues and soft hearts. I let her work - she reminds me of my mother.

"You remind me of my son," she says, taking out the aluminum foil. She wraps two quails carefully. "He's in university now. So tall, like you." She looks at me. I feel ten years old again, in the kitchen, watching my mother chop vegetables. She used to feed me pieces of pork and chicken. I want to cry.

Max comes in. There is a God.

"I'm done, let's go."

"Alright." I walk out behind him, halfway to the door.

"Wait, take these," she comes after me. "You need meat. You need to grow."

The sight of them makes me sad, for more reasons than one. I stuff them into my pockets.

"Thank you. See you tomorrow."

She smiles.

I miss you all.