by Eiko Kadono
“Why don’t you rest for a bit,” someone called to her. “This wind is bad!” But Kiki couldn’t possibly do that. She needed to find her broom, and she had an idea of where to look. Earlier, she’d caught a glimpse of that boy who had a broom. He must have wanted a real one from a witch and swapped them! Kiki was furious. It’s unforgivable. She was lucky she’d saved Jiji and the boy on the beach, but when she thought of what would have happened had she failed, she couldn’t stop shaking. I’m going to catch him and make him apologize a million times over.
Kiki kept a careful watch on the ground as she continued herking and jerking across the sky on the bronco broom.
If someone wanted a witch’s broom so badly they stole it, where is the first place they would go? Kiki thought it would be somewhere high, like a cliff—because, of course, they would want to try flying.
She flew from hill to hill between the beach and the town of Koriko.
“Kiki, over there!” Jiji pointed up ahead. Just as she thought, someone wearing a black dress was standing at the top of a little hill, about to test their flying skills. “Kiki, we have to stop them!”
“Shh! Quiet.” Kiki stopped her broom in midair.
“They’ll get hurt,” Jiji warned again.
“If they want to fly, let’s let them fly. If things turn out bad for them, they’ll learn their lesson. Taking someone’s belongings without asking is a horrible thing to do,” Kiki replied coldly, holding the bucking broom steady.
“They’re really gonna do it!” Jiji cried.
The person on the hill took a flying leap, but they landed flat on their bottom and rolled like a pebble down the slope.
Kiki flew after them. The broom thief was shaking their body out and rubbing their backside when she landed and teased irritably, “Too bad it didn’t work out.”
The face that looked up at her in surprise was—sure enough—the boy she had seen on the beach. He looked about Kiki’s age. His glasses were cracked, and he was peppered with bleeding scrapes. Kiki giggled—he was even wearing a black dress identical to hers over his clothes!
“You sure put a lot of effort in,” she said. “Right down to my witch dress.”
The boy stood up with a frown, tore the dress off, blushed furiously, and hung his head.
“You caused a lot of trouble for me.” Kiki thumped the handle of the broom into the ground, exaggerating her anger. In truth, seeing him imitate everything about her cracked her up more than it made her mad. “I’d like you to say you’re sorry. At least a million times.”
The boy said nothing as he backed away, bobbing his head apologetically.
“What’s your excuse? Surely you weren’t born yesterday, Mr. Thief.”
“No, of course not. It was for research,” the boy protested.
“What do you mean, ‘research’?” Kiki raised her voice harshly.
“Don’t yell like that—I’ll tell you. My friends and I have an Aviation Club in town. We’re trying to come up with new ways to fly. Right now, we’re split into three groups in a research competition. One group is focusing on flying shoes, one is working on flying carpets, and the last one is doing witches’ brooms.”
“So you’re in the broom group?” Kiki looked him directly in the eyes, and he blushed and nodded.
“That’s why I was near your shop today. I heard you talking with the baker, and I rushed over to the beach to find you.”
“You wanted to fly with my broom, huh? Well, it would never work. Even with the broom, you would never be able to fly. I can because I’m a witch. In other words, the blood running through here is different.” Kiki thumped her chest once.
“So your blood makes you fly?” The boy’s eyes widened as he looked at her.
“Ew. That’s a weird way to say it.” She burst out laughing without meaning to, then composed herself and murmured with a straight face, “But I do wonder how it works. I don’t know myself.” She gazed up at the sky and cracked another smile. “But the broom makes a difference. If you’re going to do research, at least use a broom that’s easy to fly with. What is this thing?”
“It’s no good? I made it. I tried to make it look like yours, but—”
“It’s awful! It herks and jerks so much that my bottom hurts. If it were a horse, I would’ve tried to rein it in. And I embarrassed myself in front of all those people, too! Now give me my broom ba— Oh no!” Kiki wailed when she finally saw her broom. Her mother’s hand-me-down lay on the ground, snapped in two. “What’ll I do?” She picked up the pieces and cradled them.
“Sorry.” The boy plunged his head down in apology.
“This was my mom’s broom. She gave it to me when I left home, and it was so easy to fly on…,” Kiki said, her voice full of tears.
“Sorry,” the boy said again in a tiny voice. Then he stood there with his shoulders slumped, hanging his head.
“Oh well,” Kiki finally said hoarsely. She might not have liked it, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she pushed the tears that threatened to overflow back down into her heart. “I’ll make my own broom. I’ve made one before, so I think it’ll work out. I doubt it’ll go as smoothly as this one right from the start, but I’ll master it eventually.”
“I—I’ve studied a lot about how to fly smoothly, so there might be a way I can help you,” the boy offered timidly.
“I appreciate the thought, but this is a job for a witch,” said Kiki, proudly puffing out her chest.
“Being able to fly isn’t always easy, huh?”
“Yeah, although not being able to fly must be hard, too,” Kiki said, finally smiling at him.
The day after the horrible event at the beach, Kiki went to the western forest to find an ash branch for her new broom. She was no longer interested in a broom with a slender, elegant handle like the one she’d made before. She needed a type of wood that would be flexible enough to fly through the strongest winds, like a fish in water, yet have a sturdy core. After wavering for a while, she decided to attach the brush from her mother’s broken broom to a new handle.
“Now it’s half Mom’s and half mine,” she said to herself with a shrug. At first, she considered making an entirely new broom. But her mother’s brush comforted her so much that she couldn’t throw it away.
“Yeah, half and half is best,” she spoke to herself again. Jiji was sitting next to her with his eyes closed, but when he heard her whispers, he peeked at the broom and sighed in relief.
The only problem was that the broom she made didn’t fly very well. Perhaps the branch hadn’t dried enough, especially since she had been in such a hurry making it? Or maybe it just wasn’t used to flying yet? Either way, I’ve got to master it on my own.
Every time she rode it, she ended up dizzy, but Kiki didn’t give up. The issue was that her mother’s brush was more energetic than the handle, so the rear end kept bucking like a horse. When that happened, she’d nearly fall off the stick or suddenly flip upside down.
Whenever Kiki was flying around in such odd positions, far more townspeople called out to her.
“Miss! Are you all right?”
“Did you catch a cold or something?”
“If you’re going to fall, do it right!”
Strangely, other people seemed to prefer her new flying patterns, saying, “I feel more relaxed now. When I used to see you flying through the air like a pointy black streak, you looked like a wicked witch from a fairy tale.”
Kiki thought, How can people like me more when I’m worse at flying? I guess Mom didn’t realize that was a thing.
About ten days after all the broom fuss, the 1-800-KIKI-CAN phone rang. When Kiki picked up, the voice of the artist who had painted Kiki and Jiji burst from the receiver.
“It’s been so long! How are you? I finally finished your portrait. Come have a look, and
afterward, would you mind delivering it to the exhibition venue? I heard you started doing that sort of work. As you know, it’s a bit large, but I hope you’ll find some way or another.”
“Yes, of course…,” Kiki started to say. It would be very tricky to carry something so big yet flat like a board. If the wind was blowing, it would be even harder—and wasn’t she already having broom trouble?
Years earlier, not long after Kiki had learned to fly, she’d delivered an umbrella to her father in a sudden rain. She remembered how scared she felt when a gust of wind popped the umbrella open and her broom spun like a pinwheel.
“It’s a painting of you, so I’m extra pleased to have you deliver it.” The artist seemed certain that Kiki would take the job.
“Okay, then, I’ll figure something out,” Kiki answered, without a choice.
“Great, now the request is official! Come pick it up tomorrow around noon. I’m excited to show the painting to you, too.”
The next morning, there wasn’t so much as a wisp of cloud in the blue sky. Still, Kiki was worried. A clear sky like this in the morning meant that the winds up high were blowing hard. And by noon, those winds sometimes came lower.
I wonder if I’ll be able to carry it all right. It’s an important painting….
Just then, Kiki remembered the boy from the Aviation Club. He specifically mentioned he’d “studied a lot about how to fly smoothly.”
She went straight over to Osono’s to borrow the telephone book, looked up the Aviation Club number, and gave them a call.
“Is the boy—uh—the tall, skinny boy from the witches’ broom research group there?”
“Skinny? I dunno what to tell ya. We’re all pretty skinny.”
“Oh, well…is there someone with scrapes on his forehead? I mean, if he still has them, I guess—”
“Ha—that one! He does, he does. He’s definitely still scraped up. His name’s Tombo. We always say his glasses make him look like a dragonfly. Oh, here he is—hold on.”
A different voice came on the line. “Hello? This is Tombo.”
“Oh, this is the witch from the other day. My name’s Kiki.”
“Wow, you found our number! Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened. Did I screw up again or something?”
“No, that’s all over with. Today there’s something I was hoping you could help me with.” Then Kiki asked the best way to carry a large painting in the wind.
“You should put it on a leash. I think that’s your best bet,” Tombo answered right away.
“What do you mean?”
“Leave it to me. I think I can help.”
“Gosh, thanks. The artist’s house is on the edge of the forest in the northern park, practically buried in trees. Do you know which one I’m talking about? I’m headed over there right now.”
“I know the place. It’s like a badger’s den.”
“R-right. Well, see you there.” It really does look like a badger’s den, she thought. Kiki hung up laughing, then rushed around and prepared to leave.
When Kiki and Jiji landed at the edge of the park, Tombo came running up to them with a big paper bag.
When the artist saw Kiki, she cheerily brought the painting out of the back room.
“Oh!” Kiki exclaimed, and Jiji purred at the same time. The two of them gazed at a picture of a witch in a black dress and her cat against a dark sky. The black was so radiant and beautiful, Kiki looked down at her dress to check whether it was truly that stunning.
“Her eyes aren’t quite right.” Tombo had been quiet, but now he chimed in to complain.
“What’s wrong with them?” the painter asked, surprised because she hadn’t even noticed him yet.
“What do you mean, what’s wrong? Kiki’s eyes are much rounder, and prettier—”
“Ah, I suppose I could have painted them like that. But I was trying to bring out her witchiness.” The artist observed Tombo with confusion on her face.
“Oh, this is my friend Tombo,” Kiki hurriedly introduced him. “He came up with a plan to help me carry the painting smoothly.”
Tombo didn’t add anything. He just pursed his lips, took another look at the painting, and got to work. First, he took a bunch of different-colored balloons out of his bag.
“Balloons? Are you going to use those to send it flying?” the artist asked nervously, holding the painting down.
“No, we’re going to give it a leash,” Tombo said.
Still unsmiling, Tombo took a canister out of the bag. He blew up balloon after balloon and attached long strings to them. Then he screwed a bolt into the frame of the painting and attached the balloons. Lastly, he tied a thicker string over the knots. The balloons rose into the air, and the painting hung just above the ground. It didn’t float away, and it didn’t sink—it hovered in perfect balance.
“The trick is to get the amount of helium gas and the number of balloons right,” said Tombo, looking a little proud of himself. “Kiki, as you fly, hold this thicker string like you’re walking a dog. If the wind tries to blow the picture away, pull on the string. Show it you’re in charge.”
“Is he calling my picture a dog?” The artist looked at Kiki with concern.
But Kiki was staring at Tombo with admiration. She never would have thought of such a solution, and she was grateful that he’d come up with it so easily.
“I think this’ll work,” Kiki said. “The painting will be a lot lighter this way, and no matter which direction the wind blows, it can move with it. This is a great idea.”
When Kiki praised him, Tombo finally smiled, flashing his white teeth.
And it really was a great idea. When Kiki took off holding the string, the painting obediently followed. And when it twisted in the wind, she would simply slow her pace. Even before she reached the museum, people in the streets, looking out their windows, or tanning on their roofs saw the real Kiki and Jiji next to their portrait.
“It looks just like them,” some murmured. “It’s almost hard to tell which are real!”
One person even said, “It looks better than the real pair!”
In any case, the painting was very well received.
At the museum, spectators constantly crowded in front of the piece, which was titled The Most Beautiful Black in the World. Naturally, the artist was overjoyed. As a thank-you, she painted a striking picture of Kiki and Jiji on Kiki’s shop sign. But more important, everyone all over the town of Koriko learned about Kiki and her business. In other words, she had managed to “advertise” just as Jiji had suggested.
From then on, Kiki was busier with work. She delivered flowers, forgotten lunch boxes, even soup to an elderly grandmother living alone. One time, she brought a doctor their forgotten stethoscope. Everyone learned that they could casually stop by and make their requests. But some people tried to take advantage of Kiki. They would make ridiculous demands like Carry my backpack and come to school with me or Deliver this insult. Of course, she always refused those jobs.
* * *
Eventually, the hot summer ended, and it started to look like fall.
Kiki had gotten the hang of her broom, and it seemed she had finally settled into a good routine. But underneath it all, she was in a bit of a lousy mood. There was no real reason—she just felt irritated. Everything’s been so stressful since I got here. I’m just worn out, she sometimes told herself. But deep down she knew that that wasn’t it at all.
Ever since she delivered the artist’s painting using Tombo’s leash method, the boy had started coming around her shop. One day, he said something that she couldn’t shake.
“Maybe it’s because you fly, or something, Kiki, but you’re so easy to hang out with. I can talk to you about anything. I’ve never met a girl in this town quite like you.”
At the time, she took it as a complim
ent, but as the days went on, she couldn’t get that last part out of her head. I’ve never met a girl in this town quite like you.
Back then he said my eyes were prettier than in the painting, and now he says he’s never met someone in Koriko like me. Are girls from bigger towns different somehow? What does that even mean? She couldn’t help but find that strange.
One day, one of her slippers was missing, and she took it out on Jiji. “This is so annoying! It’s fine for you to play with them, but you need to put them back when you’re done. How many times have we been through this? I don’t have any matching slippers anymore.”
Jiji yawned and pretended he couldn’t hear her.
Then the phone rang. Kiki hopped across the room on her single slipper and picked up.
A calm voice came over the line. “Is this the witch shop? Good day to you.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Kiki said absentmindedly.
“Can we really request anything? There’s something I’d like you to deliver.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s these biscuits. My elder sister, her name is Chrysanthemum. But my name is Violet. It’s a bit embarrassing to have such a childish name as an old lady, ha!”
Although she knew it might be rude, Kiki cleared her throat. The lady was taking a while to get to the point.
“You’ll go to my sister’s house later,” the woman continued. “First, do you know Goat Road? I’m at the end of it, nine-nine. Ninety-nine. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. I’ll be right over.” Kiki didn’t even wait for her to finish before answering quickly and hanging up. Then she irritably kicked the slipper off her foot into a corner of the room.
* * *
Kiki found 99 Goat Road easily. When she pulled the string hanging beside the door, there was a soft rattling noise, and a voice from behind the house called, “Over here, please!”