la mano

He gave her his hand in marriage because when, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one man to leave his mother and father and for one woman to leave her mother and father and cleave to the United States of America and to the republic, for which it stands, one March-April-May, Kanye! Heroes! One-two-three-four. Numbers! Deuteronomy... all on Fox.

English would be her third language. She studied it in a program staffed by some young Americans. They liked Ashgabat, they said. The Turkmeni people were so kind and beautiful. She didn’t know what they were talking about, as none of the people she saw on the bus looked anything like the beautiful people she saw in People. But even the Americans didn’t look quite like the People people. They were a little fatter. She thought her English teachers were, perhaps, more beautiful than the for this very reason. Their teeth weren’t quite as white, which the advertisements in People seemed to think important, but still.

They used American literature and documents to teach reading. The Constitution. The Bible. People Magazine. Comic books full of villains who rubbed their hands together as they plotted the possession of the world, which appeared to be made mostly London, New York City and, occasionally, Hong Kong.

Her classmates loved People magazine for the pictures, but for her, it was words, as many as she could catch, as many as she could scribble into her tiny notebook. She had a section in the back for her favorites. Words she didn’t own and couldn’t pronounce. Stolen words she had no right to. Yet.

She would flip to this section of her notebook and run her finger along the ph of these words, touch the ougher, the br or the tch.

Soon, she would say, you will be mine. Oh, yes, you will be mine.