Girl Giant and the Monkey King

by Van Hoang

  His eyes widened. “Why?” he asked, horrified, like she had suggested she was going to steal candy from a baby.

  “Because I could really hurt people. I really hurt someone already.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  Thom swallowed. She should walk away; she shouldn’t tell him anything.

  But, no, she had a better idea. She should capture him and take him back to the temple, where he belonged. He was here now, and if she played her cards right, she could lure him there and no one would ever know she’d released him from imprisonment.

  “This goalie.” She told him about the soccer game, how Cassie Houghton was still in the hospital with broken ribs. That Thom had broken. The Monkey King listened quietly, his big brown eyes studying her face with concern.

  “If anyone finds out … if Bethany or Sarah or Kathy or anyone knows, they’ll tell the … the authorities. Or whoever. People who can take me away. Run tests on me. And the whole world will know. The whole world will think I’m…” She had only brought it up to gain his trust at first, but now she couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.

  Something fuzzy touched her arm, and she jumped. It was only the Monkey King’s fur. She looked up in surprise. He had leaned closer, one arm reaching around her shoulders.

  A hug?

  He was hugging her?

  Thom didn’t move. Ma rarely hugged her—it just wasn’t their thing. Vietnamese people bowed to one another a lot, and if there was an old person, Thom was forced to kiss them on the cheek, but they never hugged. It felt … weird—and he was a monkey.

  But … it was also kind of nice. She’d expected him to smell bad, like Mochi when they hadn’t bathed him in a while, but the Monkey King didn’t. Maybe he had bathed, but he didn’t smell like soap or flowers or anything obvious; he just smelled clean and … earthy. Like the forest. He was strong and sturdy as she let herself lean into him for just a second.

  “I will protect you,” he said. The lump in her throat threatened to grow larger and squeeze the breath out of her lungs. “If those girls try to hurt you, I will stop them.”

  But Thom pushed him away. He was a liar. A trickster god, a demon. She knew that she couldn’t trust him. “It was your fault for getting me into trouble,” she said.

  Something flashed in his eyes, but it retreated when he smiled, the twinkle returning. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “How?” Thom asked, immediately suspicious.

  “What do you want?”

  She wanted her power taken away. She wanted to be normal. The Monkey King couldn’t do that, could he? Besides, she wasn’t about to make a deal with a demon-god.

  But she could do something else instead. “Let’s go back to the Thien Than Temple.”

  He smiled, close-lipped, eyes twinkling. “I can take you anywhere on this earth, to the heavens even, and you want to go to some stupid temple?” He shook his head. “No. Something else.”

  “But you said you’ll make it up to me.”

  He crossed his legs as he hovered a few feet above the ground, tilting his head upward. The set in his jaw told her there was no use arguing, and if she pushed it, he would know what she was trying to do.

  “I can teach you to use your power. Control it,” he said.

  She didn’t want to use it, she hated it! But if she could pretend to learn and then trick him back to the temple … “Okay. How?”

  He scratched his chin, pulling out a few hairs in the process, but instead of tossing them aside, he shoved them back into his jaw. “Well? What do you hate most about your strength?”

  “Everything.”

  “Impossible.”

  “It’s like the worst thing ever. It’s a curse.”

  “It is a gift!” He moved close, balanced as if on all fours in the air, still floating. Their noses bumped. “Hit me.”

  Thom didn’t mean to actually do it, but he was way too close and he’d startled her. Her hand smacked his nose with a crunch, and he sailed to the ground, bouncing twice on his butt before skidding to a halt.

  “Ah—sorry!” Thom cried. She reached to help him, but he bounded back into the air, giggling.

  “Yes, yes! Again!”

  “But … I don’t want to learn to hurt people. I want to learn how not to.”

  “Before I can teach you that, I must assess the true extent of your power. Come on, hit me. I barely feel it. I am much stronger than you. To me, you are a mere bug. Your weak punches are like the buzzing of an insect—no, less. Like the flapping of a butterfly, or the ticklish crawling of a cockroach.”

  Now Thom found herself trying not to punch him.

  A glint reflected in his eyes. “Do it. I know you want to.”

  She flexed her fingers and let out a breath. “No.”

  He cackled and flipped a few cartwheels. “I can show you how to control it. Teach you how to live with your power so you won’t hurt people, even though some of them deserve it.” He batted his eyelashes at her.

  Ever since Thom had developed her freakish strength, she’d had no choice but to live with it, to touch things lightly, to avoid hugs and high fives, which sadly yet fortunately had been easier to do once she’d moved to Troy. But there’d been no one to teach her, because no one knew, and even if they did, how would they? The Monkey King was different. He seemed to relish her power, and he was just as strong, if not stronger. If anyone could show her how to live with this, it would be him.

  He watched her closely, his eyes sharp and astute, and she had that sense that he was reading her thoughts. But that couldn’t be one of his powers, could it?

  “I know!” he said. “Toss me instead.”

  “What?”

  “Hold your hands like this, like you are giving me a … a … What do you call it?” He mimed tossing something with both hands.

  “A boost?”

  “Yes! A boost! We’ll see how far you can throw me.”

  That sounded, if not fun, at least less harmful and dangerous. “But you can fly.”

  “I won’t. I want to see how far you can throw me.”

  “But what if someone sees?”

  “I’ll make myself invisible!”

  “You can do that?”

  The Monkey King beamed. “There is nothing that I cannot do! I am the master of the Seventy-Two Transformations! I can fly, I can breathe underwater, I can transform into any animal or being, and I can definitely make myself invisible.”

  “But I can see you.”

  “Of course, because I choose to let you see me. But no one else will be able to. Come on, come on! Where is your sense of adventure?” He skipped and tumbled weightlessly, too excited by his own idea. He grabbed her hands.

  His energy was infectious, spreading a lightness over her, like she was the one who could float on air. Thom realized she was smiling, the muscles in her face relaxing and stretching, unused to the movement for so long. The Monkey King grinned back, positioned her hands into a scoop so he could place his feet on her palms, crouching down and easing his weight into her hands until she knew he was no longer flying.

  “Ready?” Thom asked.

  He chuckled, waving his hands. She took that as a yes and threw him. He burst upward but didn’t go far, rising only a few feet above Thom before landing nimbly on all fours.

  “Again! Put more strength into it this time.”

  She tried harder the next two times, though admittedly not her hardest—who knew where she could send the Monkey King? Into space? She hoped she wasn’t that strong, and she knew he’d told her that she couldn’t really hurt him, but it was impossible to let go of that instinct, that fear of seriously harming another being with her strength.

  “Stronger!” he demanded as he stepped into her hands for the fourth time. “As strong as you can.”

  “What if I toss you so far you don’t come back?”

  “You won’t get rid of me that easily.” He ruffled her hair, and she shook her head, unused to such oddly affection
ate behavior. Taking a deep breath, this time she tossed him much harder. She winced in fear, but she just launched him farther than before, higher than any of the nearby buildings, before he fell back down gracefully. This time, he walked back to her side, no more giggles or cartwheels. It was unsettling to see him so still and serious.

  “You’re still holding back.” His tone had changed, his eyes intense. “Do not. Show me what you can do.”

  “But—”

  “No more buts, Thom-Thom.” He slashed a palm at her. “I am Sun Wukong, the Great Sage of Heaven, the powerful, handsome Monkey King, and I do not associate with weaklings.” His shoulders square, his feet apart, he looked ready for a fight.

  A shiver chased down her neck. He looked like the Monkey King she knew from the legends: powerful, tough, and undefeatable. Something about his stance and the way he looked at her, full of challenge, made her want to prove something.

  “Okay.” She clasped her hands together. “Let’s do this.”

  As if she’d turned on a switch, his grin returned, and he skipped and jumped onto her hands.

  “Brace yourself,” she said, her chest filling with elation. He was about to see what she was truly capable of.

  “I am bracing.” He bounced. She lowered her hands and bent her knees. And then, with a shriek of laughter she couldn’t hold back, she threw him as hard as she could. Her hands in the air, she watched as he rocketed up, up, up, becoming a small speck, until she couldn’t see him anymore and the bright, clear sky became almost blinding.

  It was a long time before the Monkey King returned.

  12

  THOM DIDN’T KNOW HOW LONG she had stood there waiting, when the bell rang shrilly, making her jump.

  Oh God, oh no—she’d skipped the rest of her classes. She was supposed to go to Social Studies, but she’d spent the whole afternoon playing games with the Monkey King! What was she thinking?

  She hurried from the courtyard and joined the chaos of students rushing out of the school. A teacher standing next to the open door, making sure nothing too rowdy happened, looked right at Thom. Did she know? Could she tell Thom had skipped? Thom didn’t have that teacher for any classes, but all teachers seemed to have the superpower to smell out misbehavior. She bent her head and shrugged her shoulders, wishing she could become invisible like the Monkey King.

  “Hey, Thom!” a voice shouted after her as she headed to the pick-up area. It was Kha, who didn’t seem to notice how people turned and stared as he ran up to her. “What happened? I thought we were going to meet up in the library.”

  “Oh, I … forgot.” She had never agreed to meet him in the first place, but at his hurt look, guilt washed over her. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. After all, he was the first person who’d shown any interest in being her friend since she’d moved here. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. Even though the expression on his face told her it wasn’t okay at all. “I just wanted to give you this.”

  A gift? They hardly knew each other. She held out a hand, and he placed a piece of paper into it. It was thin but sturdy, almost like woven cloth. There were words on it, written in red calligraphy in a language she couldn’t read.

  “A bookmark?” she asked.

  “A lucky token. My grandparents gave it to me.”

  She felt uneasy and tried to give it back. “Shouldn’t you keep it then?”

  “I have a couple.” He grinned. He was being so nice—why? What did he want from her? Was it a trick? “I thought you could use it. Tape it over your bed, and it will bring you luck.”

  She tucked the token into a textbook inside her backpack. “Thanks. I, um, don’t have anything for you, though.”

  “No worries.” He looked up at the row of cars. “Oh, my ride’s here. See you, Thom!”

  His bright smile startled Thom into waving a little too vigorously, so she tucked her hand into her pocket. It felt as if the whole school had seen that exchange between her and the new cool kid, and that they were still staring at her as she walked with her head down.

  Ma was waiting for her in the designated pick-up lane. Something was wrong. Both hands gripped the steering wheel as she faced forward, not turning, when Thom slipped into the passenger seat. The air was thick with invisible explosives, air mines, as if any sudden movement would cause the car to combust. Thom was afraid.

  “Hi, Ma,” Thom said, reaching for her seat belt. Maybe she should make a bolt for it. She had nowhere to go, but the streets were probably safer right now anyway, judging from the clench of her mother’s jaw.

  Ma’s breath rushed out her nostrils like steam, filling the car with red-hot tension. “You know who called me today?”

  Oh no. Thom had completely forgotten, distracted by the Monkey King.

  The silence stretched between them, and Thom kept wondering if she should say something, but nothing came to mind. Should she apologize? But that would be admitting she’d done something wrong, and, well, okay, she’d done a lot of things wrong today. But she wanted to know which one Ma was upset about the most before she apologized.

  Should she try to explain about the Monkey King now? Ma was her ma—she wouldn’t think Thom was crazy, would she?

  Thom let herself imagine it. She wouldn’t stop at just the Monkey King. She could tell Ma about her strength. It would be such a relief. Ma knew the answer to everything. She knew how to fix any problem. She would believe Thom. And if she didn’t, Thom could prove to her how strong she was, and Ma would know how to make it disappear. She might even know why Thom was like this.

  “They say you trash the classroom? Why, Thom?”

  Thom winced. Ma hadn’t called her cưng, which was never a good sign.

  “The poor teacher probably spend lots of time to make the class neat and clean—and now you disrespect her? What will people think? And they say you never got back to your last class? Why, Thom? I don’t understand.”

  Thom shrugged further into herself. Each time Ma said her name felt like a stab to her chest.

  “You broke a calculator!” Ma burst out, and Thom jumped. Any thought of Ma understanding and fixing her problems disappeared. Ma believed in fixing your own problems, even if you were only eleven. “I know you’re unhappy—are you sad about soccer? About moving?”

  Thom opened her mouth to answer, but Ma kept going.

  “There is adjustment period. You’ll get used to it. Make new friends. No need to break expensive calculator! Those things cost more than your phone.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words pushed at the seams of her mouth despite how hard she’d tried to keep them in. She didn’t have anything to really be sorry about, when the Monkey King was the one who’d done all of that, made the mess, broke the calculator. But Ma was in no mood to listen to anything preposterous, and that was exactly how Thom’s story would sound to her. Ridiculous. Made up. “It was an accident.”

  Ma seethed quietly, the bones of her knuckles wiggling beneath the pale skin of her fingers. She’d forgotten to put on her driving gloves, which she wore more to protect herself from getting tan than from the heat of the steering wheel. As they navigated away from the school, Thom knew it was coming, but it still hurt when Ma said it out loud.

  “I take away your phone.”

  Ma had gotten it for her in case of emergencies, but it was still cool to have, the one cool thing about her. She didn’t want to lose it. What if she needed to talk to Thuy?

  At the thought of her friend, her chest gave one of those painful twists, sending a sharpness down her veins all the way to her wrists.

  “But Ma—”

  “And you’re grounded.” She paused for effect, but Thom was still reeling from the news about her phone. Besides, being grounded in Georgia was a different story than being grounded in California. There was nothing to do here. She had no friends and never went anywhere except the library where her mom worked. “And you do more chores around the house,” Ma continued, piling on the punishment like she r
ealized it wasn’t enough, “until you finish paying back the calculator.”

  Thom leaned closer to the window. Ma kept talking, launching into full lecture mode about embarrassment and lack of honor, about the shame Thom had caused. Thom looked at the sky. Something—a plane, a bird, too far away for her to see clearly—shot out of a cloud, leaving behind dots of white. It could have been the Monkey King, which made her smile. The fun moment they’d had when she’d tossed him into the air felt like it had happened a year ago, so distant now in the somber mood inside the car.

  She stopped smiling. Shook her head. There was no reason for her to smile at the thought of the Monkey King. She still didn’t trust him. Okay, so she’d had a lot of fun today. There was still something about him that made her uneasy.

  But even though she knew this, she couldn’t help looking up at the white spots of clouds, wondering if he would be back.

  * * *

  Dinner was extremely tense. Usually, Ma peppered Thom with questions about school and homework and soccer practice, while Thom tried her best to answer with as few words as possible. But tonight, Ma was quiet. The scowl on her face was so tense it seemed to tighten the air between them.

  Thom kept her head down. She held her chopsticks correctly and ate every grain of rice and piece of soggy vegetable without complaining. Still, Ma didn’t speak.

  Thom glanced up. Ma wasn’t eating. She hadn’t even picked up her chopsticks. Her food was probably cold. A precious piece of meat had fallen off her bowl onto the table, and she didn’t care. She did not care. About a piece of meat.

  Things were worse than Thom had thought.

  “Ma?” Thom’s voice barely penetrated the shield of anger around her mother.

  Ma looked at her. Thom had meant to say sorry. Again. But the scowl on Ma’s forehead was contagious. The toxic atmosphere clouding Thom’s lungs made her throat itch with frustration. She was always good, had always been as perfect as she could manage. She got good grades, behaved in class, even played soccer when all she’d wanted to do this season was quit. And yet, it was never good enough. She would never be good enough.