Grass Cuts by Yi Jun Phung
My daughter runs barefoot across the fresh patch of wet grass, leaving behind a trail of giggles as my husband mock-chases her around our lawn. He’s pretending to be a monster, fi-fa-fo-fumming; stomping his feet on a patch of ragweed. I used to pull those weeds out in the same lawn, as they were mother’s least favourite chore, and father’s most favourite form of punishment. I can’t seem to remember what I was punished for, though. All I remember is how the grass cut me, hot sun licking the back of my neck as he watched me from the kitchen through a glass of iced beer, grinning. He didn’t let me wear gloves, said all wounds would heal eventually. When a teacher asked me how I got those cuts and rashes, I repeat what my parents told me to say: I do not remember.
I suppose it was partially true. When I returned to the house years later, with a husband and a growing belly, memories did not come back. The kitchen was much bigger than I remembered. I told my husband there were only two bathrooms when there were four. There was no yellow wall hung with family portraits in the living room; I had made it up. It was just a plain, cracking wall.
As the days went by, pieces of memories returned. When I’m in our not-small kitchen, I remembered having mother’s sliced ginger fish soup for dinner after a whole afternoon of tugging weeds. When I laid in bed, I remembered mosaics of fights, screams, sighs. When I placed my parents’ urn by the altar, I remembered the prayers I made. My memories were still not much, only chunks and shards, but enough to cut me anyway.
My memories don’t hurt as much as they used to, I said to my husband. He wanted to renovate the house, thought painting the walls and changing the tiles would help. I told him all wounds will heal eventually.
In the kitchen, I watch my husband finally catch up to our daughter. In his arms, she shrieks, the good kind. When he spots me, he points, tells her to wave at me. From where my father used to sit, I grin.
Most of Yi Jun Phung’s past work revolves around retail & fashion, having contributed to Inside Retail Australia and Inside Retail Asia. Now, she’s having a (mostly) splendid time diving into the world of fiction. Her work was previously published in Gown Lawn, National 2024 FlashFlood and Spellbinder Mag.
Photo courtesy of Jenanne Burnell
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