by Eiko Kadono
Kiki walked through the alley along the wall and came to an open wooden gate. In the garden, an old woman with her sleeves rolled up to the elbows was doing laundry.
There were four big tubs in a row: one for whites, one for blacks, one for blues, and one for reds. Soap bubbles sparkled in the sunlight, floating around as if they were alive. The white tub had white bubbles, the black tub had black bubbles, the blue tub had blue bubbles, and the red tub had red bubbles.
“Are you Violet?” Kiki asked as she passed through the gate.
Without pausing her washing, the woman nodded. Her hair was cut short in a bob and scattered with gray. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead.
“I’m from Kiki’s Delivery Service.”
Violet quickly wiped her hands on her apron and looked up at Kiki. “Not the witch shop?”
“Well, I deliver things.”
“I heard you were a witch. I thought you took on any kind of job. But if you did any job, then you might steal my business, too! Anyway, I’m glad you only make deliveries. My business is a bit rare, you see.” The woman let out a loud laugh. “Ha, I’m a handywoman. It’s similar to your job. Or maybe it’s not?” Violet giggled at her own comment. “But I’m happy you’re here.”
She plunged her hands back into a tub and continued her washing. “My sister is so inflexible. If I say I’ll bring something over today, it absolutely must be today or she’ll get upset. Just a second, I’m going to wash this—scrub-a-dub,” she sang to liven up the task of rubbing soap on a white shirt. “Delivering every little thing is a pain, so really, I’d like to live with her. But she says it’s easier to live on her own. Okay, scrub-a-dub, whap-a-dap. Yet she can’t bake a single biscuit!
“Scrub-a-dub. At least once a week I have to take something over there, or there’s something to talk to her about. We’re each other’s only siblings. Heave-ho, scrub-a-dub, whap-a-dap. This spot just isn’t coming out. Once more, then—scrub-a-dub. Can you believe it? But today I’m so busy, I don’t have time….” Still washing, she looked up at Kiki. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you waiting. The weather was bad until yesterday, and I’ve never had this much laundry pile up in my life! I’m getting complaints from customers. I have to dry these as soon as possible—scrub-a-dub, whap-a-dap.”
“You’re washing all of this?” Kiki’s eyes widened.
“Yep. Isn’t that obvious?”
“By hand?”
“That’s right. I don’t have a washing machine. But I take on odd jobs to help people make do, so I have to make do with my hands, too.” As she talked, they continued their mechanical motions.
Kiki watched Violet’s quick, skillful work in wonder. She stretched an item along the washboard, ran the soap over it, then rubbed it—scrub-a-dub—against the board. Then she spread the fabric back out—whap-a-dap—to check if it was clean.
She sang quietly along to her motions. “Scrub-a-dub and whap-a-dap. Scrub-a-dub and whap-a-dap,” Bubbles floated continuously up into the sky. In no time, the whites, the blacks, the blues, and the reds had all been washed. Then she drew more water from the hose to rinse everything with the same scrub-a-dub, whap-a-dap motions.
Kiki watched in a trance, completely forgetting that she was there to work. Finally, all the clothes had been wrung out and stacked as a mountain of twisted bars in a basket. The whites were on the bottom, then the blacks, then the blues and reds. Violet straightened up, put a hand to her back, and looked at the sky with a deep breath. “Phew! Guess it’s time to dry them.”
She brought out some twine and stood there thinking for a moment, holding the end. Then she turned to Kiki, who stood next to her carrying Jiji and her broom. “Sorry, but could you hold the end of this for me? I’m going to hang the laundry. There’s a lot, so I need a long line.” Violet handed Kiki the twine without waiting for an answer. Then she picked a red ribbon off the mountain of laundry and hung it up. “We start with the littlest things,” she said, again in her singsong voice, and speedily hung baby socks, a baby skirt, a woman’s blouse, and more. With each item, Kiki moved a little farther away. The line grew heavy and began to sag.
“It’s going to touch the ground!” Kiki shouted.
“Oh, dear. Can you stand on your tiptoes, then?” Violet shouted back as she hung up a big red tablecloth.
“Agh, this isn’t working! It’s going to touch!” Kiki held the twine above her head and hopped.
“Hold it higher. Or perhaps you could use your broom and fly with it?” Violet said, looking up.
“Oh, that could work,” Kiki said without thinking. Then she mounted her broom and flew as high as the eaves of the house.
Violet leaned back over the basket. Next were the blues.
“We start with the littlest things.”
A mother’s handkerchief, a boy’s cap, a father’s underwear, a girl’s swimsuit, a father’s shirt, curtains, and light blue sheets lined up all in a row.
The line threatened to touch the ground again, so Kiki flew as high as the top of the roof. Violet hung item after item, working up a sweat hanging.
Then came the blacks. A father’s socks, a boy’s pants, a mother’s skirt, and a grandmother’s dress lined up all in a row.
Then came the whites. A baby’s mittens, a bib, underwear, and clothing—more and more, bigger and bigger. A mother’s slip, a father’s shorts, and finally five shirts.
“Ah, that’s it!” Violet seemed relieved to be done, and she tied her end of the line to the fence.
“What should I do with thiiiiis?” Kiki yelled from far above the rooftops, waving her end of the line.
“Oh dear, what’ll we do?” When Violet looked up, she threw her hands over her head in surprise. “Sorry! You can tie it any old place!”
“But…,” Kiki shouted back. Up in the sky, there was obviously nowhere to tie the twine. But if she let go, the laundry would have to be done all over again. Kiki gave up with a shrug and pulled the line to tie it around her waist.
“Wow, it’s like we have a big, long tail!” Jiji leaned over the broom’s brush and looked at the long line of clothes that waved like flags.
“How pretty! They’re like the flags at Field Day.” Violet hopped around below and clapped her hands.
People walking past looked up in surprise. “A string of kites, a string of kites!” A bunch of kids gathered around, cheering.
“This is no joke!” Kiki tried to frown, but she couldn’t fight the smile underneath.
“Well, I guess I have no choice but to hurry up and dry these.” Kiki began to fly, leisurely circling far above Violet. Each time the wind gusted against her, her unpleasant feelings from earlier slipped further away. “Scrub-a-dub and whap-a-dap!” She tried singing the tune she had heard from Violet earlier. And when she did, the sounds of the laundry in the wind accompanied her. Whap-a-dap, whap-a-flap, whap-a-dap, whap-a-flap! The sun in the clear autumn sky quickly dried the laundry. Soon, the sounds changed from whap-flap, whap-flap to flutter-flutter.
“Thank youuuu!” Violet called from below. Then she tugged the line. One by one, she removed the items. And as Violet went, Kiki gradually came down, too.
By the time the whites, blacks, blues, and reds made a fluffy mountain in the basket, Kiki finally reached the ground. Violet ran over to her.
“I can’t believe they dried so fast. You were a huge help!”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from a handywoman.” Kiki said with a smile. “You sure gave me an odd job—as a laundry pole!”
Violet shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, that’s right. This is how we make do. If we manage, then we’re happy. If we don’t, then we’re not,” she said in her singsong voice, and carried the basket of clean laundry into the house. When Kiki followed her inside, she found all sorts of curious things. For starters, the door was split in two, so one could
open it for just their face or just their feet.
“The door broke, so I make do with two smaller doors,” said Violet.
The string by the front door was connected to a bundle of walnuts, nails, and spoons. She pointed to it with a smile. “This is a homemade bell. When you pulled the string before, didn’t it make a nice sound?”
As Kiki was admiring the bell, she noticed a single boot with tall, fluffy grass growing out of it.
“And this is a homemade vase. Cute, right?” Violet smiled and little wrinkles gathered around her eyes. “Oh my, here I am getting all pleased with myself, but I was going to have you take biscuits to my sister, wasn’t I?”
With an embarrassed look on her face, she brought two bags out of the kitchen.
“My sister lives in Pointy Manor on Dead Tree Road. It’s the pointiest building on the street. And yes, these are for you—a little thank-you. They’re called Star Dust Biscuits. When I was baking them, I messed up and they came out too small, so I made do with an adorable name.”
Kiki was happy to have them.
When Kiki arrived at Pointy Manor, Violet’s sister, Chrysanthemum snapped, “How spoiled she is, having someone else deliver them instead of coming herself! I’ll have to give her a piece of my mind.” But Chrysanthemum’s eyes were happy when she peered into the bag.
That night, if you were near Kiki’s shop, you could hear voices singing over and over,
This is how a handywoman makes do
If we manage, then we’re happy
If we don’t, then we’re not
Inside, you’d find Kiki and Jiji singing into the solo slipper—a homemade microphone of their own.
Knock-knock-knock.
Kiki hurried down from the second floor and opened the shop door to see a girl standing alone in the doorway. Dark brown curls gently framed her face, and she wore a pretty, pale pink sweater. Gleaming white boots went all the way up to the knees of her slender legs. The girl almost seemed to be floating, Kiki was so awestruck by her.
“W-welcome!” Kiki was excited and could hardly speak—this was the first time she had a customer around the same age as her.
When the girl saw Kiki, she inhaled sharply, lowered her eyes, and stumbled over her words. “I, uh, umm—”
“Do you need something delivered?” Kiki said, having composed herself a bit.
“I heard that this shop can deliver anything. Are you the deliverywoman?” The girl’s tense face smiled, and she cocked her head.
“Yes, and I do a thorough job. No need to worry.”
“I see.” The girl nodded, her dark eyes flashing, and she seemed to purposely, slowly bat her eyelashes. “I want you to deliver something for me, but it’s a secret.”
“A secret?” Kiki asked, furrowing her brow.
“Oh, it’s nothing bad.” The girl lifted her chin and looked down at Kiki. Then she leaned on the doorframe with one hand. A silver brooch sparkled at the collar of her sweater. “I want you to deliver a present—to a boy named Ai. It’s his birthday today. He’s turning fourteen. Cool, right?” The girl spoke so proudly, one would think she had come up with the idea of his birthday herself.
What’s so cool? Kiki thought, confused. The girl continued.
“But I don’t want him to know the present is from me.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Well, Ai and I have known each other since we were little. He still only thinks of me as a kid, even though I’m thirteen now.”
“But you want to keep this a secret? I don’t get it.”
The girl looked up at Kiki and cracked a smile. “You don’t understand how I feel?”
Kiki was even more confused. “Wait, this present isn’t something weird, is it? Will a frog jump out when he opens it? I don’t accept those kinds of prank jobs.”
The girl laughed again, this time a little smugly. “I heard you were a witch, but you don’t know anything, do you? Is that what you’d do if you had a crush on someone?”
“Excuse me?” Kiki said, glaring at the girl.
The girl pushed her hair back with a bored look on her face and reached into her pocket. “I used all my allowance to buy matching fountain pens for Ai and me—look,” she said, showing off a silver pen in her hand. At the same time, she flipped the collar of her sweater to reveal an identical one stuck through it from the inside. What Kiki had thought was a silver brooch was the clip of a similar pen.
“Carrying matching items like this is the latest trend.” The girl, haughtier now, squared her shoulders.
Kiki knew this girl was a customer, and she knew she should have simply said, I see and delivered the pen. But when she opened her mouth, something else entirely came out. “What do you mean, you’ll match? This Ai guy won’t even know you’re the one who sent it!”
“Right,” the girl replied. “He won’t. But I will.”
Kiki couldn’t believe the girl managed to brush off such a rude comment like it was nothing. Not only that, the girl was hardly paying attention, looking off into the distance somewhere, spellbound.
“It’s a great present,” said Kiki, pursuing the topic further. “But why not give it to him yourself? That’s not so hard.”
“I’m too shy for that.” The girl slowly batted her eyelashes again. It was as if she thought being shy was a good thing. Intimidated, Kiki suddenly felt her chest grow tight—she couldn’t pinpoint it, but somehow this girl felt much more grown-up than her.
“Shy? That’s weird,” Kiki said.
“Oh, you don’t understand how that feels yet?” The girl smiled faintly, as if pitying Kiki.
But Kiki wasn’t about to let this girl get the better of her, so she shot back, “You must be nervous about what Ai will think, right? What if he finds this strange?”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I just want to keep it a secret. It’s good to be a little mysterious.”
Kiki took another good look at the girl. She was surprised someone could have so many complicated feelings hidden beneath a simple pink sweater. Mysterious? Is that how I’m supposed to act? Maybe there’s something wrong with me.
Suddenly she remembered Tombo’s comment again: I’ve never met a girl in this town quite like you.
The girl in front of her continued talking. “Besides, once Ai knows one half of something, he’ll just have to find out the other. So I’m going to send him on a hunt.”
“To find you—the sender of the present?”
“Exactly.”
“But what if he doesn’t go looking for you?”
“That won’t happen. He’ll definitely look.” She seemed quite confident on that point.
“All right. I just have to deliver the pen?” Kiki had the feeling this conversation might go on forever, and she wanted to end it.
“Please. And this along with it.” The girl fished around in her pocket and took out a small yellow envelope.
“A letter?”
“It’s actually a poem. I wrote it. Don’t you know you’re supposed to send a poem with a present to your crush?”
Kiki felt as though the conversation was sliding backward, so she hurriedly asked, “What’s Ai’s address?”
“He lives on Dogwood Road across the big river. It’s three eighteen, west of the zoo. But in the afternoon, he’s usually practicing tennis on his own in the park.”
“And what about you?”
“My name’s a secret. I live on the next street over from Dogwood, on Kaya.”
“If you’re that close, you could just go—”
“But…”
“I—I know. I get it.” Kiki held her hands up in front of her.
“If you see me, pretend you don’t know me. And oh, right. I need to pay you.”
After hesitating a moment, Kiki said, “
If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear how things turn out. Tell me later.” A slightly spiteful part of Kiki couldn’t help but wonder whether Ai would bother to search for the girl at all.
“You mean whether Ai tries to find me? So nosy! But sure, I’ll tell you,” the girl said, still self-assured.
“Then I don’t need anything else in return.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“I mean…,” Kiki started to reply.
“Oh, you want to learn how to talk to boys? I get it, I get it.” The girl nodded, as though she was older and more experienced. Instead of replying, Kiki wrinkled her nose and tried her best to suppress a scream.
Once the girl left, Kiki turned to look at herself in the mirror. She combed her hair, adjusted the collar of her dress, and twisted and turned to look at herself from every angle. Then she sat on her bed and muttered, “What do I do if Ai thinks I’m the girl?”
Jiji flopped over next to her with exhaustion. “This is all so silly. I can’t go along with this,” he said, and yawned.
“So you’re not coming?”
Yet when Kiki put the pen and the letter in her pocket and patted it to be sure, Jiji rose sluggishly. Outside the shop, the two of them took off. Lately, the wind had grown colder, and today it whipped at their cheeks. From up in the sky, they could see that fall was in full swing. The town had lots of ginkgo trees, and their leaves had all turned yellow. Every now and then, a stray leaf would flutter into Kiki’s path and stick to her chest.
“You’re really taking your time today, huh?” Jiji called from behind her. “You’re going in circles!”
“Oh, am I?” Kiki returned to herself with a start and looked below. In truth, she had been thinking about one thing this whole time: the girl’s poem inside the envelope that was inside her pocket.
When Kiki was little, she had written one poem herself:
Shoes laugh tap-tap-tap.
Hats laugh tip-tip-tip.
I laugh tee-hee-hee.