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Chapters (23)
  1. Cover
  2. AMERICAN SON
  3. AMERICAN SON
  4. Dedication
  5. Copyright
  6. Contents
  7. AMERICAN SON
  8. PART ONE
  9. Balikbayan
  10. Chapter One
  11. Chapter Two
  12. PART TWO
  13. AMERICAN SON
  14. Chapter One
  15. Chapter Two
  16. Chapter Three
  17. PART THREE
  18. A Dirty Penance
  19. Chapter One
  20. Chapter Two
  21. Chapter Three
  22. Chapter Four
  23. Acknowledgements

When I turn back to Mom I notice she has been watching her too, though sensing me, she immediately looks down again. Her expression stays in my mind. It is hard to figure out. Something about it bothers me, and as I think about it her face has already become a memory, and then it occurs to me—I know it is strange to think this—that what I had seen was a look of longing.

Chapter Four

I

I want to tell him about Oregon—about how hard it has been on our mother, so maybe he will treat her better—but I cannot get myself to do it. He stays out many nights a week, not bothering to tell her he will not need dinner. Sometimes he brings over girlfriends, even though our mother is religious and it bothers her that they are unmarried. He does nothing around the house and leaves messes in the kitchen—plates and leftovers he does not bother to put away—which I clean up so our mother will not come home and find them there and know he did not bother. He has always stored stolen stereos in the house, but now he has them piled in the living room in plain sight. The other day Aunt Jessica came over. Mom was worried what she would think, I could tell, and veered her into the kitchen, even though it meant having her sit on an uncomfortable barstool.

Aunt Jessica went to the bathroom, though, which took her through the living room, and a few minutes later she called Mom in. My aunt was standing there looking at the stereos stacked against the wall, beneath the television set and against the bookshelves.

What are those? she said.

Mom scratched her elbow, uncomfortably. Stereos.

I can see that, Aunt Jessica said. I meant what are they doing here.

They’re being stored.

Are these Tomas’s?

Mom looked aside. Yes.

Aunt Jessica nodded, her lips puckered.

He buys them for cheap and sells them, Mom added quickly.

From where.

Where?

Yes, where.

Mom thought a moment.

He knows a boy who works in a warehouse, a discount warehouse.

So they’re new.

Mom hesitated. Yes. New.

Aunt Jessica frowned. Then why aren’t they in boxes?

You could see our mother’s face drop, but she recovered herself and made up some answer about tax breaks. This was a lie. She had asked Tomas about the boxes and gotten only bullshit answers. My aunt did not look like she believed her, but she left Mom alone about it, for now, and they returned to the kitchen.

II