Sounds easy enough. “Okay, thanks.” The jade is cold and heavy in my palm. “Will the baku literally come into my room, or what?”
“Or what,” Obāchan says. “She will come into your dreams. Don’t worry, she’s not scary.” She smiles at me. “I used the baku charm when I was your age.”
“Oh.” I grin at her. “So it’s super old.”
She laughs, then gets serious. “But remember”—she puts her hand on my arm—“only use it as needed. Do you understand? Otherwise the baku will get impatient with you.”
I put the string around my neck, feeling the cold jade thump against my chest. “I will use the baku responsibly.”
Inu appears at my leg, drool already coming out of his mouth, sticking to the fur of his beard. Woof, he says, and puts one huge paw on my thigh.
Obāchan stands, pushing her chair away from the table. “I’m going to put this Tiger Balm on.”
“Maybe you can make breakfast tomorrow?” I catch hold of her hand. It’s smaller than mine but quite possibly a lot stronger, like sparrow bones made of steel.
Obāchan grins. “Okay. How about some fish-head soup, salted salmon, and fermented soybeans?”
I drop her hand. “Sure,” I say with as much false bravery as I can muster. “Yum.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Xander-chan.” She pats my head before shuffling away with her tube of Tiger Balm clutched to her chest.
Inu slaps my leg with his paw again, and I throw him a piece of bacon. He catches it neatly.
“Don’t feed the dog at the table,” Shea says as she comes back into the kitchen.
“He’s not a regular old dog.” I pat Inu’s soft head. With his golden curls and expressive brown eyes, he resembles a gigantic living teddy bear. With hidden sharp teeth. “He saved my life.”
“Still, you don’t want him doing that to guests, do you?”
“Nobody comes over but Peyton. Who cares?” I push my eggs around with my fork. They’re too runny, the whites like snot. I put the plate down rather noisily on the floor for Inu, then brace myself for a lecture.
Instead, Shea shrugs and pours herself a cup of coffee. “You’ll be hungry in half an hour. But suit yourself.”
“I will.” I stomp away. For some reason, her blasé response makes me even angrier. When I get to my bedroom, I slam the door hard enough to wake the rest of the neighborhood.
In my room, I sit and stare at all the pictures covering the walls; images of Pokémon and superheroes and monsters flap in the breeze. I should tear them all down. They’re old and no good. I’m so over drawing.
The last time I was really into it, I made pictures without even knowing I was doing it, as though I had temporary amnesia. I drew a whole comic book about the tale of Momotaro, I created a picture of the demon that was coming after me, and—worst of all, in terms of getting into real-world trouble—I drew a really mean caricature of a girl from school.
Maybe if I don’t draw anymore, nothing bad will happen. Or at least I won’t have to worry about it ahead of time. Drawing things that become real is like a being a fortune-teller who can predict how he’s going to die. Who wants to think about that?
I get up and start pulling down the pictures. They’re mostly pretty bad. I think I traced some of these superheroes. I don’t know why I ever thought I was any good.
The room looks strange when it’s bare. I’d forgotten I had beige walls. I tear off a piece of Scotch tape still stuck to the wall. I could repaint, but I don’t even know what my favorite color is anymore.
I shove the drawings into a desk drawer, smooshing them down so they fit, and sit on my bed. My stomach grumbles. Maybe I could create in a different way…. I imagine a plate of French toast, buttery and covered in real maple syrup, sitting on my lap. I relax and close my eyes.
Sure enough, suddenly there’s a small weight on top of my thighs. I open my eyes and grin.
French toast on a platter! Happiness washes over me like a shaken-up soda.
“Who’s the best at magic? Xander. Who can make whatever he wants? Xander.” I snap my fingers at an imaginary crowd. “Let’s give it up for Xander! Yeah!”
Unfortunately, I forgot to imagine a fork, so I have to use my fingers. I don’t care. I suck off the syrup and wipe some of it on my bedspread. A little stickiness never hurt anybody. Mmm. It is, literally, magically delicious. Hey, maybe I’m part leprechaun, too. I chuckle to myself.
I know the stuff I conjured is about as substantial as cotton candy, but it doesn’t matter. I can create more food while we’re on the hike. I’ll just go off into the bushes, pretending I have to answer a call of nature, and then imagine myself a big sandwich. I’ll get by.
When I finish, I put the plate on my desk, knocking a pile of papers onto the floor. Ugh. This room’s a mess. Dirty clothes cover the floor. Comics and books are strewn all over the place. In fact, it looks sort of like it did after that earthquake hit.
And Dad told me I had to clean it by suppertime.
The problem is, my room’s way too small. I need more space. A place where I can play video games with Peyton. A spot for us to hang out. Maybe a bunk bed.
Why not do more? a voice whispers in my head. If you can imagine it, why not?
Before I fully think it out, the room shimmers. A bunk bed materializes under me. The room expands to twice its size, complete with a small couch and a big flat-screen TV. A desk against a wall holds three brand-new computers and state-of-the-art gaming equipment.
It is glorious.
“Whoa,” I breathe. My whole body tingles, and my heart thunders as if I’ve just won first prize in a contest. I get up and pick up a game remote. A brand-new PlayStation. Of course, Dad will never pay for a subscription in a million years. I could try to play, though. Maybe my Momotaro powers can access the network for free.
What else can I do with my powers?
A pounding at my door startles me. Jinx yells, “Leaving in ten. Your dad says not to dillydally!”
And just like that, the room evaporates. I see a sharp flash of red out of the corner of my eye—probably anger descending over me like a cloak. “The world’s not going to end if we’re late,” I mutter. “It’s just a stupid hike!”
“You’re stupid!” Jinx pounds the door again.
I lick some extra syrup off my fingers. “Takes one to know one,” I call back.
“That doesn’t even make any sense!” she responds before she stomps away.
Jinx and I haven’t exactly ended up as best buds since she moved in. I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise, given how annoying she has always been.
When I first met Jinx, she was living in a jungle. Well, technically she was imprisoned by a snow witch, but her natural habitat was in the trees. She was rude and could climb really well. So I called her the monkey girl.
It’s not an insult. According to the legend, Momotaro originally had three companions—a monkey, a bird, and a dog. Peyton, my best friend, had actually sprouted wings on our adventure, so he played the bird role. Inu was a magically strong supercanine in the other world. And Jinx was my monkey friend. A half-demon monkey friend who betrayed me initially, but it all turned out okay. Even if she does still annoy me sometimes.
After we returned home, we couldn’t exactly send Jinx back to live alone in the enchanted jungle again. And Dad realized that Jinx’s mom was from our world, and she was a friend of Shea’s. That’s another thing Jinx and I have in common: mothers who took off.
Her mother had had serious problems. Exactly what they were, Jinx never told me. But I do know that her mom ended up giving her ex full custody. And her ex just happened to be an oni named Gozu.
Since Gozu could take whatever form he felt like, I couldn’t really blame Jinx’s mom for being fooled by him. Gozu was the one who had taken Jinx to the island of monsters and used her against me.
Anyway, now Jinx’s mother was nowhere to be found. Dad had decreed that Jinx would live with us for as long
as she needed. Which, realistically, will probably be forever.
We turned Dad’s office into her bedroom. She painted it black and hung dark blue curtains over the windows, so it now looks like an undersea cave where horrible creatures lurk. Very cheerful. Dad even got her an iPod and speakers, so her mournful emo music pipes through the house day and night, people wailing about how sad they are because the world’s against them specifically.
The first thing Dad had wanted to do after we got settled in was to register Jinx for school.
“It’s the end of the year!” Jinx had complained. “What’s the point?”
I’d agreed. What would happen at school when Jinx, the wild monkey woman of the jungle, with her crazy Medusa-like hair and rude mouth, showed up? Not to mention me, with my silver hair?
“It’s better than Jinx sitting around doing nothing at home,” Dad had pointed out.
“She needs to reintegrate into society first,” I had argued for her. I saw a documentary about that once. “Like a soldier coming back from war.” Then I thought of something else. “Oh! Maybe Peyton and I should take the rest of the year off, too.”
“If you do, you’ll repeat sixth grade,” Dad had said drily.
So Jinx got enrolled in my grade, though she’s a full year older than me and really ought to be in seventh grade. Dad had remembered which city she said she was born in (Honolulu), and he got a copy of her birth certificate. On the father line it says unknown. Just as well. Who would want to remember that their father was a demonic oni?
The day we went back to Oak Grove Lower after spring break, the school, naturally, went crazy. Here I was, showing up with silver hair, as though I’d gotten the shock of my life (and honestly, finding out you’re Momotaro should qualify as the shock of anyone’s life, so the whole silver hair thing makes total sense). Peyton looked like he’d aged five years overnight, his body all buffed out like a secret body builder’s. Then there was Jinx. Though her hair was secured in a ponytail and her face was freshly scrubbed, she looked nothing like the other girls, with her muscular frame, suspicious eyes, and angry eyebrows. And in fact she is nothing like the other girls—not after living alone in the oni jungle for who knows how long.
We were sort of like celebrities.
“What happened to you?” Lovey, our resident mean girl, pretty as a pop star but as venomous as a rattlesnake, looked me up and down as we sat in Mr. Stedman’s social studies class. “Why’s your hair all gray?”
“I dunno. I looked at your picture and then poof!” I widened my eyes at her.
Lovey grunted, pursing her lips. “Who’s your new girlfriend?”
I shuddered. “Not girlfriend. More like a cousin.”
Mr. Stedman was not pleased to receive a new student so late in the year. He didn’t have an extra textbook. “I see I’m going to have to use my own funds to order one,” he muttered to himself.
I raised my hand. “I’ll be happy to lend Jinx my book, Mr. Stedman. Just give me a free pass for the rest of the year.” I smiled angelically.
Mr. Stedman shook his head. “If you know what’s good for you, Mr. Miyamoto, you’ll keep your mouth closed for the rest of the year.”
Jinx sat by Lovey’s best friend, Clarissa. Who was also my friend, though I’ll never understand in a billion years how anyone could like Lovey. “I’ll share with her, Mr. Stedman,” Clarissa said, tossing her mop of black curls off her shoulders. Jinx and Clarissa exchanged smiles, and before long, they were chatting in whispers like they’d known each other for years.
My stomach soured with dread. Lovey was not going to like this. Sure enough, when I looked up, she was eyeing Jinx from across the room, no doubt trying to figure out how to create DOOM.
Clarissa ate lunch with Jinx, Peyton, and me that day instead of with Lovey and her clique. Lovey tried waving Clarissa over, then threw her the evil eye and even texted her, Come sit here, but Clarissa ignored it all.
“Why don’t you sit with Lovey anymore?” I finally asked Clarissa the next week. “Not that I’m complaining…”
Clarissa shrugged. “I’m just sick of all her stuff.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s always the Lovey Show, you know? Maybe she’ll learn to appreciate me when I’m gone.” She smiled and took another bite of sandwich.
“You need to watch out for Lovey,” I told Jinx.
Jinx cast a disparaging look in Lovey’s direction. “Her? After dealing with oni and that jungle, Lovey’s about as scary as a kitten.”
Lovey’s attempted revenge on Jinx came soon enough. Lovey and her little coven took action on an afternoon when Peyton’s mom picked him up early for a doctor’s appointment, and when Clarissa wasn’t around.
Jinx and I were walking home, arguing. A totally normal day for us. “Obviously, the oni are causing humans to act badly and thereby causing global warming,” Jinx was saying as we threaded our way through the alley behind the school. “If you don’t think so, you haven’t learned anything.”
“So nobody is in charge of themselves?” I asked. “Like, if I push you right now, is that because of an oni or because I just feel like pushing you?”
Jinx blinked rapidly at me. “Considering that it’s you we’re talking about, Xander, I think there’s a pretty high likelihood that it’s an oni.”
I sputtered with laughter. But then I remembered the wraith from my dreams, and I wasn’t so sure.
Just then, Lovey and her five minions popped out from behind the Dumpster. “Jinx, I want to talk to you.”
“You already are.” Jinx stopped and regarded her with a stillness I recognized from being on the monster island with her. She looked calm, but she was ready to spring into action.
Lovey sort of blanched, as if she’d taken a bite of something she’d expected to be sweet but was actually sour. Then she gathered her composure and spat out her premeditated speech. “You think you’re all that? Well, you’re not. You’re just a little orphan girl who lives with old man Xander over here.” She nodded in my direction, and the other girls snickered on cue.
I glowered my best mean look at Lovey, eyebrows together, gaze hopefully as steely as the hull of one of those ice-breaking ships. “Knock it off, Lovey.” Nobody gets to say bad stuff to Jinx. Except maybe me and Peyton. But we don’t really mean it, so it doesn’t count.
“Or what, little old man?” Lovey sneered at me.
“I’ll take action.” I crossed my arms.
Lovey laughed. “You can’t fight a girl. You’ll get suspended.”
“Lovey, you outweigh me by, like, twenty pounds,” I pointed out. “I’m pretty sure you have the advantage here.” As long as you don’t know about my Momotaro power, that is.
Lovey turned back to Jinx. The muscles on her neck bulged. Jinx had really gotten to her, I realized. I wondered if Clarissa had unfriended Lovey. “This is an AB conversation, Xander, so C your way out,” Lovey said.
“Ha-ha. I’ve never heard that one before.” I took one step toward her. “Let’s settle this like the two civil people we are.”
Lovey blinked. “There are three of us talking, genius.”
“Like I said, the two civil people.” I wanted to distract her from Jinx.
“I’m handling this, Xander. Go on home.” Jinx pulled her shoulder blades together and straightened her neck as if an invisible wire pulled it taut. She walked over to Lovey and stopped about a half inch away. Jinx was a good two inches shorter than Lovey, but she planted her hands on her hips and stared at the girl with that eerie calmness that made me want to tell Lovey to run. I mean, Jinx is half-oni. She’s the toughest person I’ve ever met.
Lovey licked her lips. “So? We going to settle this?”
“Settle what?” Jinx cocked her head to the side. “You’re right.”
“What?!” Lovey and I chorused.
Jinx ticked off the points on her fingers. “Yes, I am an orphan. Yes, Xander does look like an old man with that ridiculous hair.”
“Hey!” I piped u
p.
Jinx put her hands down. “Yes, I am different from you. Because, even though I may have done some mean things, I’ll never be as mean as you are.”
Lovey glared at her, the color rising into her cheeks.
Jinx looked back at her calmly and allowed herself a smirk. “Your best friend likes me better, and you hate me for it. As for me, I don’t really care.”
Lovey’s hands flexed and unflexed, and her eyes widened, but she didn’t move. “You don’t care? You should care!” The other girls shifted uncomfortably at their leader’s humiliation.
Jinx shrugged. “What are you going to do about it?”
Lovey opened her mouth and took a breath as if she was about to say something, but she ended up closing it.
“That’s what I thought.” Jinx whirled around on her heel. “We’re done here. Come on, Xander, let’s go.” Jinx, her back to Lovey, began walking away.
Lovey grabbed her book bag, fat with twelve pounds’ worth of textbooks, and swung it at the back of Jinx’s head with a deep grunt.
No.
I stopped the book bag in the air, and as Lovey watched, horrified, it swung back in a circle and smacked her square in the face with a sickening crack.
She fell to the pavement, holding her bleeding nose. The other girls rushed to her like hawks to a fallen rabbit.
Oops.
A small sprout of triumph made me grin. Lovey had it coming. I was defending Jinx.
Jinx shot me an alarmed look, grabbed my arm, and pulled me away from them. Did you do that? she mouthed.
I hid a smile. “So what?”
“So what?” Jinx shook my arm. “So what? Xander, this is bad.” Jinx dropped my arm and went to examine Lovey.
“Get away from me!” Lovey roared.
Then a shout rang through the alley. Who else could it be but Mr. Stedman? “Xander! Lovey! Jinx!” he shouted, striding into the fray. He looked at us as if he’d stumbled onto a bed of scorpions. “What’s going on?”
Xander and the Dream Thief Page 3