Imagine Magazine - Johns Hopkins - May/June 2012 - (Page 44)

creative minds imagine Thank you to all who entered our fifth annual Creative Minds Fiction Contest! We are thrilled to announce the winners here. Read the second- and third-place stories, as well as our judge’s comments about all three stories, at www.cty.jhu.edu/imagine/ guidelines/contestresults.html. Our Creative Minds Poetry Contest is now open through July 6, 2012. Winners will be announced in the September/October 2012 issue. Read submission guidelines and enter online at www.cty.jhu.edu/imagine. First Place Floating in the bitter sea ince I was a young girl, I always remembered something my father once told me one autumn afternoon many years ago. As we sat on the stone walkway, I was crying because I had scraped my knee against the concrete. As he wrapped the white gauze around my leg, he said, “Shhh, Xiao-Mei, Shhh.” After a pause, he continued, “During the Chinese revolution, your grandparents were forced to escape the Communist persecution. They swam across the shark-infested waters from the mainland to Hong Kong…—Xiao-Mei, be still.” I wriggled against the stinging rub of the tape. “If they had that courage, you can deal with minor discomfort. You must learn chi ku, which means to swallow bitterness. Our people throughout history have had one extraordinary distinguishable quality that allowed us to prevail throughout all obstacles we faced. You must be stronger, harden yourself to the world.” At the time, I did not understand the euphemistic tone to his words and had taken his words literally. That evening I stole outside quickly to scrape with my small fingers the chipping bark of the cherry tree nearby to stuff into my mouth, so as to prove I was strong enough, only to spit it out quickly in disgust. Now I was sixteen. My mother had always described me as slender, but I was just scrawny. When I was born, my father said my mother was overjoyed for my black hair and my flat nose bridge, but when my little sister Xiao-An was born, with her porcelain complexion, tinted red hair, and wide eyes, she gazed at her in wonderment. I always thought that when I tipped my chin skywards, my neck had the same silhouette mother had. She was beautiful, and it often made me jealous of my sister, Xiao-An, when people commented how they looked alike. If you wandered outside of our modest restaurant, there are still marks from my miniature fingers all those years ago on the cherry tree nearby. Every day as my sister and I walked to school, we passed our comforting little neighborhood. Our S by Emma Chu world was small. It felt small to me, so the bitterly angry tone in our home was abruptly apparent as we walked from school one day. My father was sweeping the linoleum flooring when I asked him where Mom was. She didn’t come home for a few days after that. Winter was very bitterly cold and lonely. Snow weighed the bows of the cherry tree near my window, and I had believed once that it was also the snow that weighed down our hearts. I sensed an ominous presence that something was horribly amiss. When I asked my father why, he pulled me tightly against him and murmured, “mei guanxi, it doesn’t matter.” That night I dreamt that my father and I were swimming in dark waters, trying to escape to a safe place. I dreamt of sharks tearing at my chest. They laughed when I begged them to stop. I told them if they took my heart, I’d have no way to support my soul. We swam and swam, the frigid water stinging our calves. We could feel the hopelessness of the bitter sea. I felt myself sinking under the weight of exhaustion. Then we saw it. A light on a distant shore, and despite our numbness, we kept paddling, pushing against the rough current. Through my dizzying pain, I knew we would survive. When I finally awoke, I muﬄed my sobs, fearing if I let any sound escape it would disappear with shattered pieces of myself. That night, I tiptoed into the attic and saw my father asleep on a spare mattress. From then on, mother began to spend hours at night on the phone, murmuring soft words to someone I did not know. I knew they had been fighting. I had hoped then it was an aberration, that their quarrels were temporary and that life would return to normal. I was aware of hushed arguments late at night, when she thought I couldn’t hear. My mother wanted to escape us, but at the time, I did not know to where or why. On the surface, as the months passed and the snow melted from the bows of the cherry tree, our emotions became an eerie undercurrent. As the wintry days turned to spring, my sister’s laugh grew more whimsical, life felt 44 imagine THinKsToCK may/Jun 2012 http://www.cty.jhu.edu/imagine/guidelines/contestresults.html http://www.cty.jhu.edu/imagine/guidelines/contestresults.html http://www.cty.jhu.edu/imagine

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Imagine Magazine - Johns Hopkins - May/June 2012

Imagine Magazine - Johns Hopkins - May/june 2012
Contents
Big Picture
In My Own Words
Building Green
Learn and Build
Tinkerer’s Dream
The Healing Touch
From Jupiter to the Moon
Building a Better Landmine Detector
Designing the Future
27 Pipes
Better Than Wikinotes
Selected Opportunities & Resources
Exploring Our Political Legacy
Off the Shelf
Word Wise
Exploring Career Options
One Step Ahead
Planning Ahead for College
Students Review
Creative Minds Imagine
Mark Your Calendar
Knossos Games

Imagine Magazine - Johns Hopkins - May/June 2012