Slob - Ellen Potter [41]
“And?” he said. “How she is working?”
I shook my head.
“She not work?” he asked.
“The signals aren’t coming in strongly enough. I think I need a low-noise amplifier but I’m not sure. Maybe a bigger satellite dish. Or maybe it’s all just impossible.”
“Mmm.” He thought for a moment. “Do you mind if I say prayer?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I’m not religious, but I guess it would be okay.”
Nima sat down in front of his shrine and said many things in Tibetan. It sounded like he was chanting. It was a strange sound. Sort of soothing. The Dalai Lama kept staring at me from his portrait, smiling like he was remembering something funny that happened a long time ago.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I pray for your honored parents. Also, I pray for the man who killed your parents.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the last part of his prayer, but the rest was nice. I thanked him. He waved away the thanks.
Later, when Jeremy, Mom, and I were sitting down to dinner, there was a knock on our door. Mom got up to answer it. When I heard Nima’s voice, I rushed to the door in time to see Mom do a little half bow and say, “Please come in.” I think she had this idea that he was a monk or something because I told her about the shrine in his house.
“This come from my cousin’s house,” Nima said as he placed a piece of electronic equipment in my hands. “He bought a new one, so this one not necessary.” It was a low-noise amplifier. A good one. And it looked new.
“Nima, you bought this! No, I can’t take it.” I held it back out to him. I knew how much those things cost, and it was more than a momo maker should spend. Especially one who is saving his money to bring his wife and sick mother-in-law to America.
“No, no,” He stepped back, away from it. “My cousin. He not need it.”
“I don’t believe you for a minute,” I said.
“Ms. Birnbaum,” Nima said to Mom, “please tell Owen that Buddhists do not tell lies.”
“Owen, you’re offending him,” Mom hissed at me, horrified. That made Nima smile, the good-natured pirate smile.
I knew he was lying.
But I needed the amplifier.
“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” I said to Nima.
Mom asked him to come in and join us for stuffed squash surprise and he agreed happily, which was pretty brave in my opinion.
FYI, it is said that the Buddha died of food poisoning after eating at someone’s house.
Nima actually cleaned his plate and asked Mom what the brown, chewy things were, and she told him it was tempeh.
“Which is really just a fancy term for blechh!” Jeremy said. Then added, “Sorry, Mom.”
Did you catch that? She said Mom.
Mom smiled as she said, “No problem, Jeremy.”
It was one of those gooey moments that we were all embarrassed by, so Jeremy put a piece of tempeh on Honey’s nose and we watched her flip it in the air and catch it in her mouth. It’s the only trick that she can do.
After dinner I hooked up the low-noise amplifier and turned on the Freakout Channel. Then I did one more thing. I opened my desk drawer and pulled out the little slip of paper with SLOB written on it. Carefully I placed it under the new amplifier. It was an offering, like Nima’s offerings at his shrine. A sort of prayer.
A two-hour Love Boat special was being aired on the Freakout Channel. This was going to be a long night. I watched for a solid hour until I finally couldn’t take it any longer and I took out my English homework. Every so often I glanced up listlessly to catch a glimpse of what was happening on the show before sticking my nose back in my homework.
Then something happened.
You know when you are walking along, minding your own business, and you suddenly trip and fall on your face? For that half second when your feet are no longer touching the ground, everything is in slow