Derek

Cydney removed the Kryptonite lock from the bike rack and mounted her 15-speed and darted towards the main campus half a mile away. She kicked it into second gear as she breezed through the winding sidewalks that connected the dormitories with the classrooms. And once she reached the main campus and saw denser traffic, she downshifted to first gear. Somewhere in the center of campus, she stopped by a map to see where Belvedere Annex was. Her chemistry class was in that building, in room BA24. Luckily, as she panned the area from the map, she came across Belvedere Annex with the name clearly on it, and she walked her bike to the bicycle rack nearby. Then it took her ten minutes to locate BA24. Fortunately when she arrived, only half of the theatre-like seats with fold-down desks were filled, and Cydney sat in one of the few empty seats in the front row.
Introduction to Anthropology was the first of Cydney’s four classes she registered for the fall semester. Her other classes were Introduction to Genetics, Statistics & Probability, and Twentieth Century American Literature. The genetics and statistics classes were to fulfill units pertaining to her major—bioengineering, while the lit and anthropology courses were meant to fulfill general education units. As Cydney received the professor’s syllabus and the professor explained it, it was time to do roll call. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for her, understanding that the non-Filipino instructor would not get her last name right on the first try.
“Cydney…Ca-LAG-a-yawn?”
Cydney spoke out from among the first row and said, “It’s Cala-GUY-un.”
“Oh okay,” said the professor. “My mistake.” At least back in Hawaii, many people there were Asian, and some of them were Filipino. So Cydney actually didn’t have to correct certain others about her last name when introducing herself. For the record, incidentally…
“Ca-LAGA-yon?” said the literature professor.
“Calgon? Uh, Cal-GUY-on?” said the statistics professor.
“Cala-GAY-on?” said the genetics professor.
And if it wasn’t bad enough, the genetics professor couldn’t even get her first name right. “And what’s your first name? Uh, Kidney?” That actually provoked a few chuckles.
“It’s Cydney, ma’am.”

“Kidney Calgon”’s anthropology class concluded at a quarter to noon. Cydney then headed off to SVSU’s eatery. The place featured many corporate restaurants such as McDonald’s, Quizno’s, Papa John’s, Panda Express, etc. She hadn’t eaten at McDonald’s in a month, so she decided to buy herself a Chicken Selects value meal.



Cydney’s American literature class wasn’t until 5:30, so she thought she’d pay a visit to either one of her cousins. She looked up Aimee’s number and dialed it. Unfortunately, her machine told her that she was in Reno for the week, but Cydney did leave a message saying that she was around and would like to visit sometime. So that left Derek. He was pretty much a stranger to her. She still remembers his buzz cut, braces, and light blue suit from the wedding, but she can barely remember his voice. Puberty’s probably not gonna refresh her memory anyway. Derek’s name has been said across the dinner table in her household occasionally, and Cyd’s Mom & Dad email his parents, but Derek hasn’t made any impression or effort to elicit a kinship between them. Cyd pulled out a note with his number and dorm & room number. Derek lived in Tuolumne Hall—Room A13. Cydney obliged and biked to Tuolumne Hall; she might as well restore some family ties.
Cydney’s directions led her to a noisy door that was A13. There were actually two noisy doors at the ground floor. She was following what sounded like a mixture of guitars and rap (Limp Bizkit, perhaps?) coming from Derek’s door; what sounded like Nirvana (Cydney has heard “Lithium” before) appeared in her ears after she heard Limp Bizkit. Nirvana became louder once Cydney was at her destination, so that sound was probably from a suite that she didn’t pass by. She knocked on the door.
Cydney knocked a second time; it opened. A lanky fellow with a David Cassidy hairstyle and in an Element “sk8r” T-shirt and baggy trousers greeted her. “Hi.”
“Hello,” she said. “I’m looking for Derek McMurphy.”
“Oh. He’s my roommate. He’s here; he’ll be out in a minute. Come in.”
“Thank you.” As Derek’s roommate invited her inside, Cydney could now hear the “rap ‘n roll” music at perhaps 75 dB, so the guitars, DJ scratches, and the obnoxious, four-letter (and twelve-letter) rap lyrics were unavoidable. And as Cydney examined Room A13, she saw that the place was meant for someone with a Y chromosome. Along with the loud music, she noticed posters of Pamela Anderson, Britney Spears, and Kobe Bryant, and the television was set to MTV’s “Pimp My Ride.” Plus, there were empty and half-empty beer cans around. Cydney could assume that the bathroom wasn’t clean; good thing she already went.
“My name is Max. What’s yours?”
She turned around to introduce herself to Max. “Oh! I’m Cydney. I’m Derek’s cousin.”
“Pleased to meet you, Cydney. Are you from SoCal like Derek?”
“No, I’m actually from Honolulu.”
“Oh that’s interesting.”
“Yeah. I actually haven’t seen Derek since we were both nine years old.”
“What are you estranged or something?”
“No. We just never took the time to get together.” Cydney was getting annoyed by Limp Bizkit. “I’m sorry, Max. Can you please turn down your stereo?”
“Oh! Of course.” Max stopped playing the CD player. But all was not silent. The music gave way to a woman who was shouting from nearby. Since it was coming from the closed bedroom door with a sock on the handle, somebody was knockin’ boots (if they still say that). Cydney was more disturbed upon hearing orgasms than she was at Limp Bizkit.
“Oh my goodness!” she cried. “What is going—please don’t tell me my cousin is in there!”
Max chuckled with embarrassment and replied, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it is. That’s why I’ve been playing my music too loud. I’ll take care of it.”
“No, no! Max, that’s okay!” But Max walked to the bedroom door and banged on it real loud.
“What the ƒµ©Þ is it?” yelled a male voice. “§øðÐæ#%¡±, I’m ƒµ©Þ!^g my woman here!”
“Derek! Just stop what you’re doin’! You have a guest!”
“Tell ‘im to come the ƒµ€Þ back!”
“She says she’s your cousin!”
After a few seconds of silence, Derek responded, “I’ll be right out! Lemme get dressed!”
Cydney couldn’t believe such raunchy behavior coming from a cousin she hasn’t seen in a dozen years. “I take it you never knew about how Derek lives his life, Cyd?”
“Not a clue. Not one clue.”
A large young man emerged from the once-noisy bedroom. He was in a red and white aloha shirt and gray T-shirt beneath and basketball shorts. He also was as bald as Honey O’Gratton. Having been interrupted from sex, Derek said “Hi” with a little more annoyance than courteous enthusiasm.
“Hi, Derek. I, I’m your cousin Cydney. You probably don’t remember me.”
“Mmmm, no. I don’t think I do.”
“Well, remember your Mom’s wedding?” Max just took a seat watching this two-member family reunion.
“Uh, kind of. I assume you were there. Were you wearing those glasses?”
“Well, I was wearing glasses; just not these ones.”
“Wait a ƒµ€Þ#@ minute,” Derek rudely said as it was coming back to him. “Is your…do you have Oriental parents?”
“Just my father.”
“Oh! Right, right, right! Now I ƒ£€Þ%* remember! Good to ╒ﭒ∑ﯕ↑№ see you again!”
“Thanks,” she said as Derek shook her hand. “Uh, could you not cuss so much?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Cyd. I mean, we hadn’t seen each other in so damn long. ‘Damn’ is okay, right?”
“I’ll accept ‘damn’ or ‘hell’.”
The woman that Derek was with also comes out of the room. She was Asian (more Asian than Cydney), wearing a pink halter top and jeans, and superfluous makeup. “Hi!” she said.
“Hello!” Cydney said back.
Derek said, “Oh! Where are my manners?” He introduced Lacey to Cyd. “Lacey, this is my cousin Cydney, who I haven’t seen since I was nine.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Cydney!” said Lacey.
“You too. How do you know my cousin?”
“Oh, I met him at a kegger on the second day of classes.”
“Hey Lacey!” said Derek. “Turns out, my cousin’s part Asian. Are you Chinese, Cyd?”
“No, I’m Filipina.”
“Aw, shoot.”
“Well,” Lacey said, “I better go. Will you call me, babe?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Derek said as he kissed her for three seconds.
“It was so nice to meet you, Cydney.”
“You too. B’bye!” And Lacey left.
“Hey, Cyd,” said Derek. “Can I get you a beer?”
“No, thanks,” she said while he went to retrieve a beer for himself.
“I take it you already met my roomie Max?”
“Uh-huh.”
Derek opened his can, sipped it, and asked, “So what brings you here? Is this your first time away from Hawaii?”
“Yeah. I just transferred from a junior college over there.”
“Why don’t you have a seat, cos?” She sat in a blue transparent inflatable chair after standing for four minutes.
“Oh yeah. Before I forget, I do wanna apologize if you heard me and Lacey screwin’ when you came over. There will be times when it ain’t just me and Max.”
“Okay. You have company over all the time. I’ll remember that.”
“Yeah, but you’re still welcome to drop by. After all, you are family.”
“Thank you, Derek. But I don’t know if I will be showing up this much.”
“Oh c’mon! Don’t be intimidated from this male atmosphere and stuff! I mean, we haven’t seen each other in, like, twelve years, I believe. I mean, I have known that I had relatives in Hawaii or were Filipino or stuff like that.”
Cydney was still intimidated by Derek’s abode but Derek was doing his best to be a good host and a welcoming cousin. “Well, I don’t know anyone here. I, I mean, you and Aimee are two cousins I know in, here in Creston.”
“Who’s Aimee?” he asked after drinking another ounce of ale.
“Aimee Padilla. She’s a med student here.”
“I didn’t know I had another cousin here. Is she Oriental, too?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Full Asian?”
“Uh yeah.”
“Gee, man,” commented Max. “How well do you know your family?”
“Max, just shut the ╒ﭒ∑ﯕ up!” Cydney was cringing again at such rude behavior.
“Derek!” she cried.
“Oh it’s all right,” Max said. “We talk like this all the time.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
“Well, Cyd,” said Derek, “you do have to excuse us if we get a little crass at times. So I will respect your manners.”
“Uh…thanks. I appreciate it.” She then raised her wrist to her face and her watch said it was 4:27, about an hour before her literature class. Nevertheless, Cydney wanted to end her uncomfortable reunion with her long-lost cousin. “Oh, I gotta get to my literature class.”
“All right. Well, I’m so glad we finally met after all this time, Cydney.”
“Me too,” said Cyd as she hugged him politely.
“Hey,” said Derek. “Lemme give you my number and email.”
“Okay.” She wished she didn’t, but just to be courteous, the cousins exchanged phone numbers and email addresses.
“You come by anytime, cos.”
“Of course, Derek.”
“B’bye!”
“Bye.” Cydney left.
“Nice girl,” commented Max.
“Yeah,” said Derek. “That Ω⌂╢‡in’ blows my mind. She don’t look anything Asian and $%~<.”
“Maybe her Asian genes are recessive.”
“What does that #^%$ mean?”
“It means that if her Asian genes were dominant, maybe she would look Asian.”
“Well, I just hope that the Asian genes that make her smart ain’t recessive, that’s for ^*$?in’ sure.”
“Ain’t that a stereotype, dude?”
“Ω⌂╢‡ that, man! I just hope she’s Ω⌂╢‡in’ smart period. Anything to get me out of this Ω⌂╢‡in’ academic probation.”
“I dunno, Derek. Cydney looked like she wanted to get the Ω⌂╢‡ outta here when she heard you Ω⌂╢‡in’ from behind closed doors. And remember, she just moved here so she doesn’t know anybody.”
“Hey. I’m gonna do my damnedest to be a decent cousin to her. But I’m hoping she can be the tutor I’ve wanted for so long so that I can graduate and my parents would get off my Ω⌂╢‡in’ b™€®s after Ω⌂╢‡in’ up my knee two years ago and destroying my football career.”