Flying the Dragon (16 page)

“I hate it here. I want to go home.”

He felt the string snap, felt the greedy wind sweep his kite away. Angry tears streamed down Hiroshi’s cheeks, but he didn’t try to wipe them away. He hated the cancer. The cancer had forced them to leave Japan. And even after stealing Grandfather’s laughter and strength, the cancer still wouldn’t leave him alone.

Hiroshi had never spoken to Grandfather with such disrespect. What would Grandfather do? Hiroshi tried breathing slowly, the way Grandfather had taught him to calm his nerves before kite battles. When Hiroshi dared to look, he expected to see anger on Grandfather’s face. But he saw only sadness.

The last of the storm inside Hiroshi snuffed itself out. “I’m sorry, Grandfather.” The words burned his throat.

Grandfather placed his hand over Hiroshi’s. “So am I, Hiroshi. So am I.”

Shifting her bulging backpack, Skye lifted the brass knocker on Hiroshi’s door. Her shoulders already ached from carrying all those books from her bike to the door. She had seen pictures of Japanese school kids with backpacks like suitcases—and no wheels. She wondered how they did it without tipping over.

The door swung open, and Aunt Naoko welcomed her in with a smile. “It is lovely to see you, Sorano. Thank you for offering to tutor Hiroshi.”

Offering? Maybe the word meant something different in Japanese. Or maybe it had a double meaning:
offer = bribe with the promise of the chance to play on the All-Star soccer team.

“Would you like something to eat or drink? Maybe a warm cup of green tea?”

Green tea? Ugh.
But her aunt looked so pleased and sincere that Skye couldn’t say no. “
Hai. Domo arigato gozaimasu.
Thank you—green tea sounds … great.”

Aunt Naoko beamed. “Hiroshi is in the dining room. Please.” She swept her arm past the foyer. As Skye headed through the front room, she looked for a plant that might be thirsty for green tea later.

She spotted Hiroshi at the head of the table, scribbling in a notebook. He didn’t look up. Books were spread everywhere; the only clear spot was all the way across the table. Skye plopped her books down and sat. Hiroshi didn’t stop writing.

Skye sighed. “Look, this wasn’t my idea. I don’t like this any more than you do.”

Hiroshi looked up. “I know.”

Aunt Naoko came in with two cups, a pot of green tea, and some kind of pastry on a plate.

“
Arigato, Okaa-san,
” Hiroshi said, and he looked pleased.

“
Arigato gozaimasu
,” Skye said, hoping maybe the pastries were stuffed with some kind of Japanese chocolate.

Aunt Naoko offered the plate to Skye first. “Do you know this pastry?”

“I don’t think so.” She took one. “Thank you.”

Aunt Naoko beamed. “It is called
yomogi mochi.
” She looked at Hiroshi. “I am not sure how you would translate it into English.” Skye took a bite as Hiroshi flipped through a Japanese-English dictionary. The pastry was sweet and soft inside. Not bad.

Hiroshi made some notes, then looked up. “It has a bean filling,
tsubushi an,
covered with a layer of sweet rice.” Skye looked at the half-eaten pastry in her hand. Her chewing slowed.

“Oh, and
yomogi
—a kind of grass, and roasted soybean on top.” Hiroshi looked triumphant. “It is one of my favorites.”

Aunt Naoko smiled. “I can give your mother the recipe, if you would like.”

Skye commanded her tongue to swallow the bite of pastry, and then she washed it down with a gulp of green tea. “Thank you, Aunt Naoko. It’s delicious. But boy, am I full.” Skye set the rest of the bean paste–rice–grass concoction on her napkin. “I’ve got soccer practice later, so I better not fill up too much.”

“Of course, Sorano-chan.” Aunt Naoko gathered up Hiroshi’s mess of books and papers, piling them next to him with a firm look. “
Dozo.
Please, come, Sorano.” She pointed to the chair next to Hiroshi. “I apologize for my disorganized son. You will need to sit closer if the two of you are to get any work done.” Hiroshi blushed, and Skye slid over one chair.

Aunt Naoko left the room, and Skye unzipped her bag. “So what’s first? English or Japanese?” She hoped he’d say English, because she had a new English tip for him. The perfect one, actually. She pulled it out of her notebook.

Hiroshi sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” He opened a folder and pulled out a piece of paper folded in half. “If you want to start with Japanese, here.” He gave her the paper.

Skye frowned. She hadn’t even shown him her homework assignment or any of her Japanese books. How did he know what to start with? She eyed the paper, wary.

“Go ahead. It’s not a
yomogi mochi,
” he said. She looked up, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. If Hiroshi had seen right through her polite snack talk, had Aunt Naoko seen, too?

She unfolded the paper and squinted at the Japanese writing. This was too hard—she didn’t know all of the characters. “I’m not sure I can read this.”

He nodded once. “Try.”

She took a breath and began. “
Gomen nasai.
” Okay, that part she knew; it meant “I’m sorry.” She scanned the other lines. “Something about Grandfather … and the kite?” It was probably something she’d understand if she heard it, but reading all those characters? Forget it.

He took the paper and angled it so Skye could see it. He read it aloud, following the characters down the page with his finger as he spoke in Japanese: “I am sorry that I was not truthful before. I wanted to fly the kite alone with Grandfather. This was not fair to you. I apologize.”

Skye felt like she should apologize all over again about stepping on the kite. But she wasn’t sorry that she wanted to spend time with Grandfather.

Hiroshi broke into her thoughts. “What’s that?”

Skye blinked. “What’s what?” She saw his eyes on her English Tip page, and slid it under her notebook. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

Hiroshi’s face fell. “I thought maybe it was a new word. Your kind of word, not a school word.”

Skye tapped her pencil on the table. Maybe she shouldn’t give him the tip, now that he’d apologized. Would he get mad? She looked at him sideways. It was a word he needed to know.

“Well, I guess I could show you. Since you asked for something new. But it’s not about you, or anything.”

“Okay.” Hiroshi looked doubtful.

She put the paper in front of him. It read:

Hiroshi read the paper, then nodded. “This is about my lie.”

Skye shrugged. “I mean, it could be anyone’s lie. It’s for lies in general, I guess.”

Now he looked confused. “How can a lie be fat?”

“Well, it just means
big;
you know, a big lie.”

Aunt Naoko’s voice came from the next room. “Do either of you need anything?” Skye closed Hiroshi’s note of apology and leaned her elbow on it. Hiroshi shoved Skye’s English Tip #4 under a notebook just as Aunt Naoko popped her head in the door.

“Do you need more green tea?” She frowned at their closed books.

Skye opened one of Hiroshi’s books and said, “We were just doing an English conversation exercise. As soon as we’re done, we’ll start on Japanese.”

Hiroshi nodded.

Aunt Naoko smiled, but it was one of those I’ve-got-my-eye-on-you smiles. “Let me know if you need anything.” Aunt Naoko left and Skye sighed.

“What do you have for homework?” Hiroshi asked. Skye opened to the list of the next set of
kanji
she needed to memorize before Saturday and turned the book so Hiroshi could see it. He inspected the page and nodded. “This will be easy.”

“Easy? Maybe for you.”

“I will show you—all you need are the right tricks, and you’ll know these by Saturday.”

Skye raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”

Hiroshi nodded. “How do you usually study these?”

“Like this.” Skye looked at the first
kanji,
then covered it up. “
Isu,
” she said. Then she lifted her hand and checked her answer.

“Right,
chair.
” She covered up the next one, but before she could say the answer, Hiroshi stopped her.

“That way is not the cool way. It will take forever.”

Skye’s shoulders slumped. “I know. That’s the problem. And I don’t have until forever.” Skye paused.

Hiroshi turned her book so it was facing her. “You have to find the ones that are related.”

“What do you mean?”

Hiroshi pointed to two
kanji
characters. “See?
Tako,
kite, is this one.
Kaze,
wind, is over here. They both begin with the same symbol. Only the centers of each are different.”

“Oh!” Skye looked at them as if she were seeing them for the first time. “Why didn’t I ever notice that before?”

“You mean your teacher never showed you?”

Skye thought. “You know, maybe she did. I don’t always pay attention.” Hiroshi nodded, like he knew the feeling.

“You two look like you are working hard.” Grandfather’s voice came from over Skye’s shoulder.

“
Konbanwa,
Grandfather,” Skye and Hiroshi said.

Grandfather peered at one of Hiroshi’s books. “This must be English.”

Skye pointed to her name on her notebook. “English letters are like
hiragana
and
katakana
—there are sounds for each one. Sometimes they have more than one sound, and sometimes you can combine them to make other sounds.”

Grandfather nodded. “You are a good teacher, Sorano-chan.”

Skye grinned and opened her notebook to a clean page and wrote in large, clear letters. “Here. This says
grandfather
in English.”

Grandfather took the notebook and placed his finger on the last letter,
r.
Then he moved his finger to the g and tapped it. “English begins on the left, I’ve heard.”

Skye nodded. “It always goes from left to right.” She glanced at Hiroshi, who seemed to be studying some spot on the table in front of him.

Grandfather gave the notebook back to Skye. She tore out the page with Grandfather’s name. “You can keep this if you want.”

Grandfather smiled. “
Arigato gozaimasu,
Sorano-chan. Perhaps each time you come, I can learn one new word in English. It is never too late to learn something new.”

Hiroshi spoke up. “Tomorrow we won’t be studying, because Skye has a soccer game.”

Grandfather’s face brightened. “Why don’t we go and cheer her on, Hiroshi?” He turned to Skye. “We’ve never seen you play, Sorano-chan.”

Skye grinned. She might not be brilliant in Japanese or a champion kite flier, but soccer was her chance to show them she was good at something.

Hiroshi frowned. “But I thought we were going to fly the dragon kite tomorrow, Grandfather.”

Grandfather nodded. “You are right, Hiroshi. But why don’t we go to the game together first? If there is time, we will fly the kite afterward.”

Skye grinned again—until she saw that Hiroshi looked miserable.

“Sure,” he mumbled. “I’d love to go.”

But Skye knew that was a big, fat lie.

Hiroshi hung back, letting the other kids spill out of the bus and in through the front of the school. Skye was at the dentist this morning, so at least he didn’t have to worry about running into her for the next few hours. Maybe the dentist would find six cavities, and it would take all day to fill them. And then Skye wouldn’t be able to play soccer after school because she’d be home in bed with an ice pack on her jaw. And then he and Grandfather could fly the dragon kite like they’d planned.