Clap When You Land: Chapter 4 Summary & Analysis

Yahaira used to play chess, but not how grandpas play chess at the park. She was ranked nationally, won local competitions weekly, and attended national tournaments. Yahaira was the one of the best chess players in the city, and her school loved her because of that. She put the neighborhood on the news for something good rather than for drug problems or gentrification. But that changed last year, and so did Yahaira. Chess taught Yahaira one important thing: if you pick up a pawn, you have to move it forward. You can’t just put it back.

Papi was good at teaching people to play chess, but he wasn’t a good player—he wasn’t good at hiding things, especially not his next move. Or Yahaira used to think that. When Papi is in the Dominican Republic, he and Yahaira don’t speak much. But last summer, she needed to talk to him about “The Thing That Happened,” which Yahaira still can’t talk about. She called him, texted him, and sent him an email. Papi was traveling for work, but Yahaira didn’t have a work number for him. Tío Jorge couldn’t help, and Mami just assured Yahaira that Papi would get back to her. But one day, Yahaira went through Papi’s papers, hoping to find a phone number. Instead, she found a closed envelope. Yahaira is certain Mami has never seen what was inside of it—if she had, she’d know what Yahaira knows, and nothing would be the same.

Mami and Papi’s story changes depending on who’s telling it. Papi always said he saw Mami at the boardwalk, and she was gorgeous. Mami describes Papi creeping closer; he was strong, with dark skin and crooked teeth. Papi thought Mami was like a chess piece to capture, while Mami talks about Papi calling to her somehow, introducing himself to the woman he’d one day marry.

One would think that Papi’s “coffee” and Mami’s “condensed milk” would add up to light brown, but Yahaira is dark like Papi—she looks just like him. Yahaira’s cousins would sometimes make fun of her, but Papi always told her she was beautiful like the night sky or a precious stone like onyx or obsidian. Yahaira knows she’s beautiful like those things, but she also knows she’s not like any of those things. She’s just herself, though she prefers to play black in chess—and win.

Yahaira’s skin color and facial features are Papi’s, but otherwise, she’s curvy like Mami. The first time that Dre touched Yahaira’s bare waist, Yahaira wanted to thank Mami for the curvy spot where Dre’s hand fit. But Yahaira’s personality is only her own. She doesn’t like loud parties, and where Papi is frugal, Yahaira wants to write Sephora wish lists. Mami is a great cook, but Yahaira burns everything. She’s their daughter—and she’s also her own person. “Mostly.”

Three Days After. Since Yahaira doesn’t know if Papi is on the bottom of the ocean, she declines everyone’s calls. She doesn’t want to hear or accept that Papi might not open his eyes again. Yahaira falls asleep on the couch in front of the TV, and she wakes up when Mami moans. Mami is on the phone, but Yahaira sees what she’s responding to on TV: Papi’s flight had no survivors.

Dre and Yahaira have been best friends since Dre’s family moved in next door. They’ve been girlfriends since seventh grade, when they started spending a lot of time on their shared fire escape. Dre would read or prune a tomato plant, while Yahaira would play virtual chess or look up nail tutorials. They’re different, but comfortable sharing space. Dre’s family is a military family from the South, but she’s a “hippie child,” a vegan who follows astrology. Yahaira loves fashion. She used to love chess, but she quit when she was “at the top of [her] game.” In seventh grade, she and Dre both felt like outsiders in their families, but they found “all the answers of [themselves]” in each other.

Yahaira is the sort to notice people’s long nose hairs or close-cut fingernails. Dre will make everything about gardening—if someone jokes about “hoing around,” she’ll think about dirt and seeds. But “Here [they] are,” with their very different interests and their shared interest in each other.

Yahaira has been ignoring Dre’s texts all morning and her phone is now off—she doesn’t want to speak to anyone. But Dre must’ve heard the news, and a person can only ignore their girlfriend for so long. Dre knocks on the window, sticks her head in, and asks if it’s true. Her voice trembles; she loved Papi like family, and he loved her back. Yahaira starts to say that anything is possible, but she stops. It feels like a lie. Yahaira looks down, but she knows Dre is nodding and crying. Dre climbs through the window, kneels on the floor, and puts her head in Yahaira’s lap. They sit like that for hours.

Dre is from Raleigh. She’s lived in New York a long time now, but sometimes when she’s upset, her accent “switch[es] up.” New Yorkers talk quickly when they’re mad, but Dre’s speech slows down and becomes more polite. She’s like her mother, Dr. Johnson, in that way. When Dr. Johnson gets upset, she folds her hands and calmly lectures Yahaira and Dre. Yahaira has only met Mr. Johnson—or, Senior Master Sergeant Johnson—a few times, since he’s in the air force, so she’s not sure how he speaks. But now, Dre speaks to Yahaira slowly, in the same manner in which she speaks to dying plants. It’s as though she thinks she can sing the plants back to life.

Dre grew very tall the summer before seventh grade. She wants to study speech therapy in college, but Yahaira thinks she should study agriculture—she can make anything grow. She grows okra, tomatoes, and peppers on the balcony. Every time the landlord sends a notice that the garden is a fire hazard, Dre just moves the plants. She’s always gardening, trying to “grow us / something / good.”

Papi never saw—or at least never said anything about—Dre and Yahaira. Mami, though, knows—she also knows that Yahaira doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Last Valentine’s Day, Mami gave Yahaira $20 so she could buy something nice for Dre. Yahaira has never had to pretend that Dre is just a friend.

Falling in love with the girl next door is an old trope, but it’s how things happened for Yahaira and Dre. They were friends, then they were best friends, and then they were kissing. After that first kiss, Yahaira went to her parents’ bedroom and thanked the porcelain saint Papi kept on his dresser.

The one thing about Dre that bothers Yahaira is that she’s “too good.” She always does the right thing. This is why Dre was disappointed when Yahaira didn’t “come out” like Dre wanted her to; Dre insisted they shouldn’t hide. But Yahaira argued that she just wasn’t making a big fuss. Dre also wants Yahaira to have opinions on things like plastic straws or her feelings about Papi. She doesn’t always get that Yahaira needs time to think about things, to “watch the board,” and discover “possibilities.” Yahaira admits to the reader that she’s been talking about herself and Dre because that’s easier than admitting that Papi is dead. If she says it out loud, the stuff holding her together will disappear.

The phone has been ringing all day. Family members from the Bronx and the Dominican Republic call, as do reporters. The neighborhood association calls, too, offering grief counseling at the local church. Mami answers all the calls, but she doesn’t say what will happen next.

One thing that nobody knows (and that nobody would believe) is that the night before Papi left, Yahaira almost asked him to stay. That would’ve been the first sentence she’d said to him in about a year. They haven’t been close since Yahaira stopped playing chess and Papi tried to force her to play—and since Yahaira saw the certificate in the envelope. Papi said that Yahaira quitting chess broke his heart, but she never told him that he broke hers.

Yahaira doesn’t believe in magic like Mami and Papi, but the night before Papi left for the Dominican Republic, it was like something tugged on her heart. That night, Papi came to her room to say goodnight for the first time in a year. He’d tangled his fingers in her curls (which she hates), but Yahaira accepted his touch for a minute. Papi said that he had to go for work, and he’s always back in September, right before Yahaira’s birthday. But every year, as his trip approaches, Mami gets angrier and angrier. Yahaira wonders now if Mami regrets that her last few days with Papi were so angry. Yahaira didn’t respond to Papi; she knew he was lying about traveling for work. Before he left her room, he said he hoped that they could talk about their difficult relationship when he got back. Yahaira said nothing.

Once, when Yahaira was little, she played in a chess tournament with older kids. She was in one of the last rounds and was convinced she’d win—but her opponent trapped her. Yahaira cried and shook, but she looked up and saw Papi watching her. He said nothing, but somehow, Yahaira got his message. She accepted defeat. Later, on the way home, Papi warned Yahaira to never let her opponents see her sweat. If she’s going to lose, she should lose smiling—they’ll think she let them win.

Four Days After. The news is saying things like blunt force trauma and that the bodies are unidentifiable. They’re trying to identify people by dental records, tattoos, and personal items. Yahaira watches videos of the plane diving into the ocean. She keeps waiting to hear that passengers got their life jackets on, or that they boarded life rafts. The news keeps saying that the death count is unconfirmed. Divers have been pulling up debris and bodies from where the plane went down. Yahaira tells Mami they have to go to Queens, where people have been lighting candles. Her hope isn’t logical, but somehow, she believes that being close to the crash site will change things. Mami just goes to her room and closes the door.

Papi first taught Yahaira chess when she was three. He “loved…loves” to tell people about how Yahaira would give up her king but hung onto her knight because she liked horses. But Yahaira was good at memorizing the patterns and was a natural at the game. She could beat Papi by age four. By the time Yahaira was five, Papi was taking her to Washington Square Park to compete against the hustlers. They thought Yahaira was cute—until she won. Yahaira loved how much Papi loved watching her win.

Yahaira started competing in chess tournaments in second grade. When he was in the country, Papi went to every match, and he never complained about the cost or the time commitment. He’d build a new shelf every few years for Yahaira’s trophies and ribbons, and he'd tell her she’d win it all. She won for him—until she couldn’t anymore. She suddenly didn’t know how—or why—she should have to do that.

Yahaira “did chess,” but she didn’t love it—not the way she loves beauty tutorials or making Dre laugh. She doesn’t love it like she loves Mami’s cooking, or like she loves hearing Tío Jorge say that he’s proud of Yahaira, not what she’s won. She doesn’t love it like she loved Papi; loving Papi was a consuming love that made Yahaira pretend to be someone she isn’t. Yahaira might’ve been obsessed with winning, but she never loved  chess.

Mami wanted Yahaira to be a lady, while Papi wanted Yahaira to be a leader. Playing chess taught Yahaira that a queen can be both “Quiet and cunning,” that she can offer a hand to kiss—and punch someone while smiling. But what’s supposed to happen when principles like that only apply in chess? In the real world, people just want Yahaira to go away.

Yahaira has always wanted to go to the Dominican Republic with Papi, but he always said no. Yahaira figured he was working and busy, not that he was doing something he didn’t want her to know about. Mami has been telling Yahaira for years that she wouldn’t let Yahaira go to the island if it was the last place on earth. She still has family there, but she hasn’t been back. Yahaira assumed Mami just had bad memories, but she knows now she was assuming a lot. Now, Yahaira realizes her parents showed her what they wanted her to see. She never imagined they’re real people who lie and keep secrets. So this year, Yahaira didn’t ask to go with Papi. She didn’t want to even sit with him, let alone talk to him. This is because Yahaira knew too much about what he was hiding.

Yahaira “was raised so damn Dominican.” Spanish was her first language, and she was raised on bachata music and traditional Dominican foods. She’d say she’s Dominican if you asked—but “can you be from a place / you have never been?” What would the island think of her if she went? Is it possible to claim a place as your home if that place doesn’t know you?