Flying the Dragon

by Natalie Dias Lorenzi

  “Oh, honey. I’m sure Grandfather knows it was an accident.”

  Skye shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s broken.”

  “I’ve never met a kite your grandfather couldn’t fix.”

  “But Hiroshi thinks it’s broken for good—I could tell.”

  “Nothing’s ever broken for good. Come.” He led Skye to the stove. He stirred the pot, then held the wooden spoon out, one hand cradled underneath to catch the drips. “Here, taste.”

  Skye blew on the clear liquid then took a sip. Her eyes stung. “Wow—spicy. What is it?”

  Her dad grinned. “I knew you’d like it. It’s too spicy for your mother, so I’ve made a milder version for her.” He pointed the wooden spoon at a smaller pot bubbling away on a back burner. “Negi shio soup.”

  Skye had never been a fan of seaweed. She leaned forward and peeked into the pot. Black-green strips churned in the boiling water. Maybe she could just eat the broth and leave the seaweed.

  “Dad?”

  “Mmm.” He was staring into the pot, stirring and sniffing.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Where’d you and mom get my name?”

  His spoon kept moving. “What, honey?”

  “Sorano. My name. Why did you choose it?”

  Her dad smiled. He turned down the heat to simmer and put a lid on the pot, leaving a crack for steam to escape. Then he wiped his hands and leaned against the counter. “Did Grandfather tell you the story?”

  Skye shook her head. “He told me Grandmother’s hawk kite story.”

  Her dad laughed. “He must have told that one a million times.”

  “It sounds like she was pretty smart.”

  Skye’s dad nodded. “She was. You would have loved her, and she would have loved you.”

  “So how could you just leave them and never go back to Japan?”

  Her dad sighed. “It’s complicated, Skye.”

  “That’s what you always say. Either that or you tell me it’s something I’ll understand when I’m grown up. Well, I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad. And I want to know.”

  He shut off the heat under the soup, and slid the lid completely over the top with a clank. “Let’s have a seat.” She followed him to the kitchen table.

  “First of all, your name.”

  Skye rested her chin in one hand.

  “Your mother and I decided on Sorano as soon as we found out we were expecting a girl. It was your mother who first suggested it, actually.”

  “Mom didn’t want me to have an American name?”

  Her dad shook his head. “She was adamant that you have a Japanese name. By that point we knew that our life was here, and she didn’t want you to forget your Japanese side.”

  My Japanese side. Until a few weeks ago, Skye had never thought of herself as having a Japanese side.

  “You already know Sorano means of the sky,” her dad said.

  Skye nodded—then stopped, as something suddenly clicked. “The kites. You named me Sorano because of the kites, didn’t you?”

  Her dad chuckled. “You come from a long line of kite fliers, makers, and fighters.”

  Skye smiled. “Grandfather, of course. And Grandmother.”

  “And I, too, learned rokkaku from my father.” Her dad’s eyes looked like they were focused on something from a long time ago. “So did my brothers. I even taught your mom a thing or two about kites.” He smiled.

  “So my name makes sense now.”

  Her dad nodded. “Your mother said that your name would be one way of passing on your family history.”

  Skye remembered the day she had announced that she wanted to change her name. Her dad had chaperoned their first-grade class trip to the zoo and had spoken to her in Japanese the whole time. When the other kids overheard, they kept asking her what she was (American), where she came from (America), and how come she spoke Chinese (it’s not Chinese; it’s Japanese). Then Josh Nesbit had said, “If you’re not Japanese, why do you have such a weird name?”

  From that moment on, Skye became her American name. Her real name.

  Now Skye’s dad was studying her, as if reading her thoughts. “Your mother was crushed when you insisted on going by Skye.” He smiled. “I told her it was a phase that would pass. Maybe one day it will.”

  Skye didn’t answer. She couldn’t just change her name back now. All her friends called her Skye. Did she even want to change it back?

  “What will pass?” Skye’s mom came in through the garage carrying two bags of groceries.

  “Hey.” Skye got up to help with the bags.

  “Thanks.” Her mom planted a kiss on Skye’s forehead. “You two look so serious. What were you talking about?”

  Skye didn’t want to bring up the subject of her name, especially now that she knew how her mom felt about it. “I was just asking Dad why you decided to leave Japan and never go back.”

  Her parents exchanged glances and her dad nodded. “Why don’t we get dinner on the table, eat, and then we can talk?” her mom said.

  Once the groceries were put away, they all sat down to dinner. Skye fished around the floating seaweed to get to the broth, wondering what her favorite dish would have been if her parents had decided to stay in Japan.

  “This is delicious, Issei,” her mom said, smiling. “You should cook Japanese food more often.”

  “Thanks.” Her dad bit into a rice ball and closed his eyes. “Mmm. I think you may be right.”

  Skye took a sip of the broth. “Speaking of Japanese food …” Skye gave her soup another stir. “And Japan …”

  Her mom smiled. “Okay, okay. We get the hint.” She took a sip of water. “Let’s see, where to begin?” She looked like she was thinking it over. “I didn’t meet your father’s family until after we had decided to get married. They lived on the island of Kyushu, and we lived on Honshu, in Tokyo—about a day’s train ride away.”

  “That part was my fault,” Skye’s dad cut in. “I should have brought you to meet them long before that.”

  “No, Issei, it was no one’s fault.”

  “What was no one’s fault?” Skye felt like she wasn’t even in the room.

  Her mom sighed. “Right. Anyway, for whatever reason, I didn’t meet your father’s family until we had decided to get married. We went down on the train for the weekend so I could meet them.”

  Skye’s dad leaned forward. “This part definitely was my fault. I’d told my parents that I had a surprise for them, one that I couldn’t reveal over the phone.”

  “And Mom was the surprise?”

  Her mom nodded. “I was a surprise, all right.”

  “Since I hadn’t been home in so long, I had fallen out of touch with what was happening in the village. My mother was ill, and my family hadn’t told me.”

  “But why?” Skye couldn’t imagine. “You would tell me if Mom were sick, right?”

  “Of course we would, sweetheart,” her dad said. “It was my mother who didn’t want to admit that she was sick. She would eventually have to face the facts, of course, but this was still early on in her sickness.”

  “So what did she have?” Skye didn’t have a good feeling.

  “She had a different kind of cancer from what Grandfather has, Skye. It was leukemia, cancer of the blood.”

  “Oh.” That sounded horrible.

  Her dad sighed. “Your grandmother was not fond of Americans, I am sorry to say. Our village lies across Tachibana Bay from Nagasaki. At the end of World War II, the Americans dropped a terrible bomb on that city, and tens of thousands were killed. Of those who survived, thousands more developed cancer from the bomb’s radiation.”

  Skye had heard of the bomb, World War II, and Pearl Harbor, although she hadn’t studied any of it in school yet. Even though none of it was her fault, she felt guilty for what her two countries had done to each other.

  “So my grandmother didn’t like Americans because of the war.
Okay, I get that. But Mom wasn’t even alive during that war. How could she not like Mom?”

  Her mom smiled and squeezed Skye’s hand. “It’s a lot more complicated than that, honey. Your grandmother’s older sister developed leukemia shortly after the bomb fell and died soon after. And her older brother, a soldier, was killed in combat.”

  “So that’s why she didn’t like Americans.”

  Her dad looked embarrassed. “That’s why. But I didn’t think she would hold a grudge once she met your mother and understood how in love we were.”

  Her parents fell silent, and Skye didn’t dare ask another question. Most of the questions jumbled in her head were ones her parents couldn’t have answered, anyway—like whether or not her grandmother really would have liked her. Her dad thought so, but Skye wasn’t so sure. Would she have minded that Skye was half American?

  “When your dad introduced me to his family, they were very polite. I think they may have even thought I was English at first. I hadn’t been learning Japanese for very long at that point, so I don’t think they could tell what kind of an accent I had.”

  “So did you tell them you were American? Or did they guess?”

  “Your grandfather asked if I missed my family and whether I saw them much. I said that yes, I missed them, but with America being so far away, visiting was difficult.” Skye’s mom sighed. “And that’s when they all knew.”

  Skye’s dad patted her mom’s hand. “I remember holding my breath at that moment, hoping—” Her dad shook his head.

  “Maybe we would have become friends, if it hadn’t been for her diagnosis,” Skye’s mom said. “It was too recent, and I think it opened up a lot of wounds that just couldn’t be mended.”

  “But what about Grandfather?” Skye couldn’t imagine that he would snub her mom, American or not.

  Her dad smiled. “He has always been the family mediator—for spats between my brothers, especially. He always made us work out our differences.” His smile faded. “But there was nothing he could do this time. He was never rude to your mom, but he stood by my mother’s decision that I must choose between them and my future wife. Obviously, I chose your mom.” He smiled. “And I’ve never regretted my choice for a minute.”

  Skye saw her parents’ eyes go teary, and she tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.

  “Did you ever call them or see them after that?”

  Her dad nodded. “I tried, especially as my mother’s health worsened. My father was so devastated by the thought of losing my mother that he did not want to go against her wishes. But I did keep in contact with my brothers—Hiroshi’s father in particular.”

  “Your father was offered a job in Washington, DC, soon after that, and we made the decision to move to the States.”

  “And my grandmother, she—?” Skye didn’t want to finish the question.

  “She died about six months later.”

  “Didn’t you go back then?” Skye asked.

  “I wanted to go back for the funeral, but all three of my brothers advised against it. Your grandfather was grieving, and they thought my being there would only make things worse. I should have gone. I know that now.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I had a long talk with your grandfather when he first arrived here with Hiroshi’s family. He said he had hoped to see me at my mother’s funeral. He took my absence as a sign of bad will on my part, and that’s why he never opened any of the letters I sent after my mother died.”

  “So this whole time he thought you were mad at him, and you thought he was mad at you?” Skye couldn’t figure out adults sometimes.

  Her dad shook his head. “So many years lost because of a misunderstanding.”

  “And then I came along.”

  “Yes.” Her mom smiled.

  “Did they even know about me?”

  Her mom nodded. “I sent them your birth announcement and a photo but never heard from your grandfather. Your uncles called, of course. I continued to send your grandfather a photo every year on your birthday, but he never answered.”

  Her dad cut in. “Meeting you now has been a joy for him, Skye. I know he appreciates how hard you’re working in Japanese school so the two of you can get to know each other.”

  There was that guilt again. Sure, she’d been working hard—so she could play on the All-Star soccer team. Which suddenly didn’t seem as important as it was an hour ago.

  Skye hugged her parents a little longer than usual. “Thanks for telling me the story.”

  Her mom nodded. “Thanks for waiting so long to hear it. It was about time we told you.”

  Time. There was a lot of that to make up.

  18

  Hiroshi

  “It works!” Hiroshi couldn’t believe the dragon was back up in the air. He gave the dragon more line, urging it to climb. “We did it!”

  Grandfather smiled. “You did it, Hiroshi. You fixed the dragon.”

  “Except for the paint.” Hiroshi could still see the dragon’s white wound where he’d replaced the washi paper.

  “We can paint that later this week,” Grandfather said. “For now it is enough to know that the dragon can still fly.”

  Hiroshi felt the cell phone vibrate in his jacket pocket. He didn’t want to break his concentration on the dragon, but he knew his parents would be worried if he didn’t answer. They’d made him take it along in case Grandfather grew tired and needed a ride home.

  “Can you hold the reel, Grandfather?” Hiroshi slipped the phone from his pocket and pressed the answer button. “Moshi, moshi.“

  “Hiro-chan?” It was Mother. “Skye just left a message for you on the machine.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She didn’t say. But she’s home now from Japanese school, so she might like to join you and Grandfather in the park. Why don’t you give her a call?”

  Hiroshi said good-bye to Mother and sighed. Even as he dialed Skye’s number, he tried to think of the best way to keep her away from the park.

  “Hello?” Skye picked up after half a ring.

  Hiroshi stepped away from Grandfather, holding a hand over one ear as if the phone connection were bad. “It’s me, Hiroshi. Mother said you called.”

  “Hey. I’m home from class, and I thought I’d come over and help fix the kite.”

  Hiroshi watched the dragon flap in the breeze. There was no way he would ever let her touch that kite again. “Um, I fixed it already.”

  “Wow—that was fast.”

  “I stayed up last night and worked on it. It turned out okay, I think.”

  “That’s great, Hiroshi. Can we fly it?”

  Hiroshi snuck a look at Grandfather and hesitated. Grandfather seemed to be focused on the dragon, but Hiroshi switched to English, just in case. “I … I have a test. I must study.”

  “A test? But today is Saturday. Did Mrs. Garcia say anything about a test?”

  “It is for ESL.” Hiroshi could almost hear Skye pouting. “A very hard test.”

  “But you have two whole days to study. Let’s fly the dragon kite for just an hour. I’ll help you study later.”

  Grandfather raised a curious eyebrow at the phone.

  “I cannot now.” Hiroshi took a few more steps away from Grandfather. Not telling Grandfather that Skye was on the phone felt like lying. But he knew Grandfather would only invite her over, and he didn’t want her to hear Grandfather’s voice and know they were at the hill.

  “Hiroshi? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. But the kite cannot fly—the glue is still wet.”

  “Oh.”

  He heard Skye sigh and for a moment he felt a stab of guilt. “Maybe one other day we can fly the kite.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m just glad the kite is fixed. And sorry about what happened.”

  “Yes. No problem.”

  “Wait! Hiroshi, is Grandfather there? He might want to go to the park.”

  “Maybe another day,” Hiroshi said. Now Grand
father was walking in his direction. “Um, Grandfather is not feeling well.” Hiroshi spoke quickly and kept his voice low. “I have to go now. Sayonara.” Hiroshi stuffed the phone back into his pocket as Grandfather handed him the reel.

  “You were speaking in English.” Grandfather sounded proud, which made Hiroshi feel even more guilty. “Was that one of your American friends?”

  “Kind of.” Hiroshi pretended to study the dragon as it swooped from one pocket of wind to the next. “It was Sorano.” He didn’t want to tell Grandfather, but since she’d left a message with Hiroshi’s mom, Grandfather was sure to find out once they got home.

  “Wonderful! Did you ask her to join us?”

  Hiroshi bit his lip. “She has soccer practice.” She did have soccer practice—sometimes. Just not right now.

  “She does?” Grandfather sounded doubtful. “She did not mention this.” He shrugged. “We can invite her next time.”

  Hiroshi focused on the dragon for the next twenty minutes, trying to forget about Skye. The dragon flitted from one cushion of air to the next, then parked at the top of its string. It floated, staring down at Hiroshi. Accusing.

  Hiroshi couldn’t do it. Grandfather would find out about the lie, and then what? Hiroshi dug for the phone in his pocket. He was about to ask Grandfather to take the reel again when he heard him say, “There she is!”

  Hiroshi turned and saw Skye standing at the foot of the hill, her bike at her feet. She was looking at them—at him—like someone had slapped her.

  When Hiroshi offered half a wave, Skye picked her bike up and turned around. Grandfather looked confused. Hiroshi saw Skye pause, then turn back around. She hopped on the bike and didn’t stop pedaling until she’d gained enough speed to carry her clear to the top of the hill. She skidded to a halt, swung her leg over the seat, and leaned the bike against the bench. Without even taking off her helmet, she marched over to where they stood, the dragon now flapping overhead. Hiroshi swallowed hard.

  Grandfather went to meet her. “Sorano, I am so pleased that you could join us after all. Was your soccer practice canceled?”

  “Soccer practice?”