Paying Attention to Propriety chapter 2

Linda proudly told everyone that her family owned an orchard. In the summer, her father asked the orchard workers to select sixteen apples and paste a character or punctuation mark on the sunny side of each apple. After being exposed to the autumn sun and frost, such an effect was achieved. This was a gift her father had prepared long ago to celebrate his daughter’s admission to college. The fifth sister, Jenny, was from Detroit, Michigan. Pretending to imitate a famous comedian’s tone, she said to Linda’s father, “Oh my goodness, Mr. Smith, you are so particular!” Everyone laughed again, and “particular” became a special word in Room 302, always on the lips of the eight sisters.

The second one to be “particular” was the mother of the third sister, Emily. She brought eight knitted sweaters. Not only did they fit the eight sisters perfectly, but each of the eight sweaters was in a different color. When the eight of them walked out together, it was like the scene described in the poem “Who holds the colorful ribbon to dance in the sky with the seven colors of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.” Emily said that her mother was the manager of a knitting factory, and such a particular thing was just a piece of cake for her.

At the end of the year, an “imperial envoy” from the family of the second sister, Sarah, came. It was the secretary of her father’s company, who came in a car and gave each of them a leather handbag. When the girls slung the handbags over their shoulders, they could hold cosmetics or books and stationery. The styles were novel but not flashy, and the workmanship and materials were extremely delicate. They were all in a uniform brown color. But upon closer inspection, it was found that the “particularity” was also extraordinary. It turned out that there was a flower embossed on the cover of each handbag, such as a plum blossom or a chrysanthemum. The eight different flowers were all in full bloom.

Every time a parent came, the seventh sister, Tracy, would sit quietly on one side without saying a word. While the others were shouting and laughing to receive the gifts, she always stepped back and only stepped forward shyly with a smile in the end. So, the apples that fell into her hands were just two punctuation marks, and the handbag on her shoulder had a hibiscus flower embossed on it. Some people said that the hibiscus originated in Asia and was also called the “beheading flower.” The pronunciation of “hibiscus” was similar to “sadness” in some cultures, which was considered inauspicious, so everyone avoided taking it. Every time, in the midst of the sisters’ laughter and noise, Tracy would silently and quickly bring a cup of freshly brewed hot tea to the guests and hand them a hot towel.

On weekdays, Tracy almost always fetched the hot water for the dormitory and did more of the cleaning and table – wiping. Everyone seemed to have gotten used to her diligence. They also knew that her family was from a rural area in the mountains, poor. She didn’t have a mobile phone and rarely called home, so they didn’t really think about her “particular” gifts.

A semester passed quickly, and it was winter vacation. When the sisters happily got together again, there was already a hint of spring in the air. That night, Tracy opened her travel bag and put a small plastic bag of sunflower seeds beside each person’s bed. She said, “Everyone, try the things from my hometown. They were grown by my mom and dad themselves, without any pesticides or fertilizers. They are 100% organic.”

Sunflower seeds are ordinary, but the ones Tracy gave were not. They were shelled kernels. Each one was so plump and uniform, cooked to perfection without a single cracked one. The unique burnt fragrance immediately filled the whole room.

Sarah picked up one and looked at it in front of her eyes. She said, “For sunflower seeds, the fun lies in cracking them. Why are they already shelled? Did you use a machine?”

Tracy said, “My dad said that everyone is very busy with their studies, and they would have to clean up the shells after cracking. So he shelled them one by one for everyone. But please rest assured. Every time before shelling, my dad washed his hands carefully. The hand – washing process was even more strict than when there was a big epidemic.”

Linda exclaimed first, “My goodness! Each bag weighs more than a pound. For eight people, that’s more than ten pounds. These are all kernels! How many sunflower seeds does that take to shell? Didn’t your dad have any other work to do?”

Tracy’s eyes dimmed, and she said in a low voice, “The year before last, my dad was injured when defusing a dud bomb at a quarry. He can’t leave the house now. My mom does all the farm work…”