Flying the Dragon (15 page)

More snoring.

Hiroshi closed the door behind him, defeated. He found Mother at the computer. “I’m going to the park.” He held the dragon kite in one hand, and the reel in the other.

Mother looked up. “Thank you for letting him sleep.”

Hiroshi nodded, then started for the door.

“Hiroshi?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“He’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Hiroshi shrugged. “That’s what you said yesterday.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “I know this is hard. It is difficult for all of us.”

Hiroshi nodded. It was all hard—this new place, school, English, and most of all, watching Grandfather get sicker.

Mother smiled. “I have some good news.”

“Grandfather doesn’t need the treatment anymore?”

Mother smiled a sad smile. “I hope that will be true one day soon.”

Hiroshi tried again. “We’re all moving back to Japan?”

Mother tilted her head. “Guess again.”

Hiroshi sighed.

“I’ve invited Sorano over tomorrow to begin tutoring. Working around her soccer schedule, we’ve carved out three days per week for the lessons.”

“That’s the good news?” Hiroshi raised an eyebrow.

“Now you can start learning English faster and help Sorano prepare for her Japanese exams. What do you think?” She looked like this was the world’s best idea.

“Does it have to be three days a week?”

“Four days would be better.”

This conversation was not going Hiroshi’s way. “Do we have to?”

Mother crossed her arms—which meant yes, they had to.

“I’m going to the park, okay? I’ll be back before dinner.”

He slammed the door, hurried down the driveway, and headed toward the park. Tutoring sessions with Skye would eat up time he had planned to spend with Grandfather. Maybe if he studied harder, they wouldn’t have to tutor each other. But that would mean Skye would have to study harder, too. Not likely.

The wind tugged at the kite, eager to sweep the dragon up into the sky. Hiroshi broke into a jog and didn’t stop until he reached the hill overlooking the playground. He stood with his back to the wind and closed his eyes. He took a breath, opened his eyes, and released the kite. It climbed higher and higher, happy to be back in the sky where it belonged.

“It’s up! Look at it go!” Hiroshi said before remembering Grandfather wasn’t with him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d come back with Grandfather.

He played the line, challenging the dragon to dip and turn and climb even higher. When the kite obeyed, pride welled in Hiroshi’s rib cage. But when he thought about Grandfather, doubt and fear settled in—doubt that Grandfather would get better and fear that there wasn’t much time left for flying kites together.

Skye spotted Hiroshi as soon as she biked into the park. The dragon was already flapping high over his head. Was he still mad about her stepping on the kite? Just thinking of that sickening crunch of bamboo under her feet made her want to turn around and go home. But there was only one way she could get more time with Grandfather, and that was through Hiroshi the Gatekeeper.
No, more like Hiroshi the Grandfather Keeper.

Skye stuck her hand in her back pocket to make sure the peace offering was still there, then pedaled around the playground, past the kids playing basketball, and all the way up to the top of the hill. She laid her bike on the grass and walked up behind Hiroshi. He looked hypnotized by the dragon.

That’s when Skye noticed the dragon’s wound was gone. “Oh! You can’t even see where it was.”

Hiroshi turned, obviously surprised to see her there. “I painted over that part.” He turned back to the kite.

Neither one said a word for a long minute.

Then Skye took a breath. “Look, I’m sorry about the kite.”
There. I said it. Again.

Hiroshi still didn’t look at her. “It was an accident.”

Skye folded her arms. “So are you accepting my apology or not?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” He wound up some of the line without looking her way.

“And that’s it?”

“What’s it?”

Skye rolled her eyes. She was about to say that it was his turn to apologize for lying when he asked, “Did your parents tell you about the lessons?”

Skye nodded. “My dad said they all think it’s this great idea.”

“I am not needing help,” Hiroshi said, switching to English as if to prove his point.

Skye bit her lip but said nothing.

“What?” He looked mad, like this was her fault.

“Nothing. Here.” She pulled the paper from her pocket and thrust it toward him.

“What is it?” Hiroshi looked suspicious.

“It’s another English tip.”

He eyed the paper.

“It’s not poison, you know.” Skye kept her hand out. “Here. Take it.”

“I do not need English tips.”

Oh, yes, you do.

Skye heard the skidding of brakes behind her and turned to see Kevin Donovan getting off his bike. She stepped between Hiroshi and Kevin.

“Hey, cool kite.” Kevin looked up.

Is it possible that Kevin could actually be a decent human being?

“So where’s the doctor’s mask?”

Nope. Not possible.

“Leave him alone, Kevin.” Skye took a step toward him. “Just go home.”

“Hey, it’s a free hill. I can be here.”

Hiroshi’s voice came from behind her. “What is he saying?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but Skye cut him off before he could say anything.

“Yes, Kevin, I was just speaking in Japanese. Get over it.”

Kevin held up his hands like he was innocent.

“And if you don’t leave us alone, I’ll tell Mrs. Garcia I saw you cheating on the science quiz.”

Kevin’s face paled. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, yes, I would.”

“Fine. Hang out with your boyfriend. See if I care.” He picked up his bike and coasted down the hill. That had worked out nicely. Skye hadn’t even seen Kevin cheating. She’d have to remember that technique next time.

She turned back to Hiroshi. “Trust me. You definitely need the English tips.”

“What else was he saying?” Hiroshi asked in Japanese.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But I want to know.”

“No, you don’t. He was being a jerk.” Skye handed him the paper. “Just take it.”

Hiroshi took the paper from Skye’s hand. “I can defend myself, you know.”

Skye sighed. “I’m sure you can. But not in English. Not yet.”

Hiroshi turned away from her. “I feel like being by myself.”

Skye had defended him to Kevin Donovan, and now he was acting like she’d insulted him. She couldn’t do anything right. “Fine. I have to go to soccer practice anyway.” She took off down the hill on her bike, already imagining a Hiroshi-shaped target in the soccer goal.

Hiroshi watched Skye pedal off down the hill. He hated that he needed her to stick up for him.

A tug on his line drew his gaze upward. The dragon’s eyes bore down on him, demanding to know where Grandfather was. “He should be here,” Hiroshi told the dragon.

Grandfather wasn’t supposed to get sick. They weren’t supposed to move to America, and he wasn’t supposed to be stuck depending on Skye to teach him real English. But he needed English to make friends.

Hiroshi reeled in the line, yanking the dragon lower and lower until he could snatch it from the air. With one last glance down the hill, Hiroshi spotted Ravi on the far side of the playground, facing his direction and waving. But Hiroshi was tired of struggling through English. He pretended not to see Ravi and turned and jogged down the hill toward home.

Hiroshi slammed the door, kicked off his shoes, and stomped up to his room. He let the dragon kite fall to the floor, then remembered the paper in his pocket. He took it out and sank onto his bed. He unfolded the paper and smoothed out the creases. It read:

What was gross about sushi? Hiroshi sighed. He’d never figure Americans out.

“Hiroshi?” Father’s voice came from the other side of the door. Hiroshi slipped the paper behind him as Father entered the room. “You can’t slam doors. Grandfather is—”

“I know—he’s sleeping.” Hiroshi flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. “As usual.”

Father picked up the kite and set it on Hiroshi’s desk. “I know this is hard on you, Hiroshi.” The mattress creaked and leaned as Father sat down. Hiroshi rolled over and faced the wall, and Father rested a hand on Hiroshi’s shoulder. “We all hope Grandfather will feel better soon.”

But Father’s voice didn’t sound anything like hope. Hiroshi tried to swallow.

“We’ll just have to be patient and pray the treatment works.” Father patted his shoulder, but Hiroshi shrugged his hand off. Father didn’t speak for a full minute. “I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Who cares when dinner is ready?
Hiroshi wasn’t hungry.

The mattress creaked again when Father stood up. Hiroshi heard Father’s footsteps pause before he closed the door behind him. Tears burned behind his eyelids, and he squeezed his eyes shut. A few minutes later he heard a soft knock at his door.

“I want to be alone.” Still facing the wall, he pulled his pillow over his head.

“May I come in?” Grandfather’s voice sounded muffled.

Hiroshi lifted the pillow an inch. “Yes.” When Grandfather sat down, the mattress didn’t creak; it barely leaned at all.

“What’s this?” Grandfather asked.

Hiroshi heard paper crinkle and he rolled over. Grandfather held Skye’s paper, but Hiroshi knew he couldn’t see the writing without his reading glasses.

“Nothing.”

When Grandfather handed the paper to Hiroshi, he balled it up and held it in his fist. “Nothing important.”

“I am sorry I slept so long. How was the wind today?”

Hiroshi waited until he was sure his voice would come out steady. “Fine, I guess.”

“You told me you painted the new section of the kite—may I see it?”

Hiroshi rolled over and shrugged. “Sure.” He lifted the dragon from the desk.

Grandfather pulled his glasses from his shirt pocket. He switched on the nightstand lamp and trained the light on the section where the rip had been.

“Well done, Hiroshi. I cannot tell where my painting stops and yours begins.” He nodded. “You have matched the dragon’s scales exactly from one side to the other.”

Hiroshi sat up straighter. “Do you really think so? It took me a long time to do it.”

Grandfather smiled. “It is a job well done. We will test it together tomorrow.”

“I already tested it.” He snuck a glance at Grandfather, then pretended to pick lint off his bedspread.

Grandfather nodded. “Of course.” He clicked off the desk lamp. “How did it do?”

“Fine.”

Grandfather smiled a tired smile. “I am glad.”

Hiroshi sat up. “You were sleeping, you know.” He said it like an accusation.

Grandfather nodded again. “We will go to the park tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Hiroshi didn’t answer right away. He opened his hand far enough to see Skye’s paper peeking out. “I don’t want to go to the park anymore.” He paused. “I want to go back to Japan.” Where they had been happy. Where Grandfather wasn’t sick. His words became a rogue gust of wind, the kind that threatens to carry kites away against their will. He couldn’t stop them from coming.