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Flying the Dragon

Page 10

by Natalie Dias Lorenzi

Hiroshi winced and turned his gaze to the dragon.

  “And you, Grandfather? Are you feeling better?”

  Grandfather smiled. “Better than ever.”

  Hiroshi could feel Skye’s stare boring into his back, but he didn’t dare look at her. “Oh, really?” Her voice was rising. “Better than ever? I thought you weren’t feeling well.” Hiroshi snuck a look at Grandfather’s puzzled face, and then watched as the sarcasm drained right out of Skye. “I am happy that you are well,” she said.

  “Did you come to fly the dragon?” Grandfather asked.

  “The glue’s dry?”

  Grandfather laughed. “The glue dried hours ago—it is a fast-drying, very strong glue.” He smiled at Hiroshi. “While I slept, Hiroshi worked his magic on the dragon. With some touch-up paint, it will be as good as new.”

  Hiroshi glanced at Skye. Would she give him away?

  “Sorano?” Grandfather was waiting. Hiroshi held his breath. He was sure the dragon was holding its breath, too.

  “I’d love to fly it, thank you.” Skye turned and glared at Hiroshi. He handed over the reel, and glared back. They fought with stares until Skye looked away, up at the dragon. Hiroshi could see it was tugging on the line.

  Skye looked panicked and handed the reel to Grandfather. Hiroshi was secretly glad. He was sure that the longer Skye stayed, the more tempted she’d be to tell Grandfather that Hiroshi hadn’t exactly told the truth.

  “Are you sure you do not want to fly longer?” Grandfather asked as he fed the dragon more line. He glanced at Hiroshi with questioning eyes.

  “No, I’ll just watch you fly it for now.” Skye took off her helmet and dropped it at her feet. No one spoke as the dragon bobbed and weaved, showing off now that it had its audience’s undivided attention.

  “Sometimes two people are silent in the very moment in which they have the most to say.” Grandfather spoke without taking his eyes from the sky.

  Hiroshi looked sideways at Skye. Why didn’t she just leave? Surely she could see that he didn’t want her there. Grandfather finally felt strong enough to fly the dragon, and now here she was butting in again.

  “I think I’ll rest for a bit on the bench,” Grandfather said. “Who would like to hold the reel?”

  Neither of them volunteered.

  Grandfather raised an eyebrow. “We could reel the dragon in, I suppose, if you two want to stop for the day.”

  “No!” Skye and Hiroshi said together.

  Grandfather laughed. “Good. I was beginning to worry.” Hiroshi stepped forward and took the reel. “You might show Sorano how to climb out of a stall.” Grandfather closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sun. “The wind has died down. It is a good day to learn the stall technique.”

  Grandfather sat, leaving Hiroshi and Skye in command of the kite. But now the dragon didn’t seem to want to stay in the sky. It tilted and veered off to the left, showing its underbelly where the sun shone through the patched paper. Where Grandfather would have to touch up the paint. Where Skye had crushed it under her foot. The white slash across the dragon’s belly—that’s why it wasn’t flying well.

  “Here, hold this.” Hiroshi thrust the reel at Skye. He just wanted to get this over with. He saw her hands tighten on the reel. “Hold the ends of the reel, but don’t grip; keep your fingers in a loose O.” He saw her grip relax. That was better. As the dragon tugged, the reel spun in her hands. Hiroshi held his breath until the dragon finally straightened its path. Now it seemed to be strutting across the sky, as if to say, See? I was just playing with you all along.

  “Nicely done, Sorano.” Grandfather’s voice carried from the bench. “Go ahead and set up a stall, Hiroshi. She’ll need to learn how to get out of it.”

  Why did she need to learn that? Hiroshi could tell Skye didn’t understand all of Grandfather’s words. Hiroshi sighed, then said in an encyclopedia voice loud enough for Grandfather to hear: “A stall is when the wind stops. It can be dangerous because the kite can start to dive. But if you give the kite more line, it should climb back up.”

  Skye nodded. “Like it did just now.”

  “Right.” Hiroshi could hear the coldness in his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

  Skye frowned. Then she edged closer to Hiroshi, turning her back toward Grandfather. “Why did you say you’d be studying all weekend?” she said under her breath.

  Hiroshi didn’t answer. He glanced at Grandfather, but it didn’t seem like he’d overheard.

  “Why did you say—”

  “I heard you.” The words flew from his mouth in a loud, angry whisper.

  “Why are you mad at me? You’re the one who told a big, fat lie.” When Hiroshi didn’t answer, Skye kept going. “Two lies—one to me and one to …” She nodded over her shoulder. “Grandfather,” she finished.

  Hiroshi looked back at Grandfather, who seemed intent on following the dragon’s progress. Hiroshi closed his eyes for a moment. Why can’t she just go away? When he opened his eyes again, she was still there, of course, and he was angrier than ever.

  “Before we came to America, it was always Grandfather and me flying kites together.” Hiroshi lowered his voice. “Now you’re always around.”

  “Always around? What are you talking about?” Skye’s voice was rising. “You’re the one who always gets to be with Grandfather! He lives with you.”

  “I don’t get to be with him all the time. He’s either too sick or too tired. Except when you’re around.” Hiroshi knew his voice was getting louder, too, so he took a breath.

  “But you had all that time with him in Japan!” Skye said. “I have the right to get to know my own grandfather before he—” Skye bit off the last word and looked away.

  “Hiroshi? Sorano?” Grandfather was walking toward them.

  “I have to go.” Skye scooped up her helmet, put it on, and clicked the strap closed under her chin.

  Good. Let her go.

  “Sorano, are you certain you cannot stay?” Grandfather looked concerned. Skye nodded, then hopped on her bike and pedaled away.

  Fine. Now he and Grandfather could fly the dragon in peace.

  Until Grandfather found out about the lie.

  19

  Skye

  Skye raced down the sidewalk, barely slowing her bike as she turned into her cul-de-sac. She coasted up the driveway, then skidded to a stop. How dare he? How dare he lie and steal my time with Grandfather? She stomped up the walk, almost crashing into her dad, who opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. He looked at Skye and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Skye shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Good, because I have some news for you.”

  “News?” By the grin on his face, it had to be something good.

  “I just got off the phone with my brother.”

  “Hiroshi’s father?” Skye folded her arms.

  Her dad nodded, still grinning. “We were talking about how hard your Saturday Japanese classes are.”

  “Dad! I don’t want them to know it’s hard for me.”

  “Skye, it would be hard for anyone in your situation.”

  “In my situation?” Did he mean someone not Japanese enough?

  “You know what I mean. I haven’t been diligent about insisting you speak Japanese at home, and you’re in a class with native speakers.”

  Was he saying she wouldn’t have to take the classes? Now that would be good news.

  “As it turns out, Hiroshi needs help with English, too.”

  If she hadn’t been so mad, she would have laughed. It was obvious Hiroshi hadn’t been studying for any big ESL test, that was for sure.

  “So we decided it would be a great idea if you tutored each other.”

  Skye blinked. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea, Dad.”

  “You’re right—it’s not a good idea. It’s a great idea!”

  She shook her head. “I don’t need a tutor. And I’m already helping Hiroshi with English.”

>   “You do need some help, Skye. And I’m sure Hiroshi would be happy to have more help with English. You’ll make a great teacher.”

  “Will? That sounds like it’s all decided. Have you told Hiroshi about this? I’m sure he—”

  “It’s all settled, Skye. Come on, don’t look so down about it. You’ll improve your Japanese, pass your exams, and then you’ll be free to play on the All-Star team this summer.”

  Her dad looked triumphant, like playing the All-Star card would clinch the deal. Sure, Skye still wanted that spot on the team. But was it worth being forced to tutor Hiroshi? Was it worth accepting his help in Japanese?

  “Besides,” her dad added, “it’ll be a great way for you to get to know each other better.”

  No, thank you, thought Skye. She already knew enough to know that Hiroshi was selfish and rude. Then Skye thought of something. “Where would we have to meet?”

  Her dad shrugged. “I suppose you could either meet here or at his house.”

  Maybe if they met at Hiroshi’s house, she’d get to see Grandfather more often. Skye sighed. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll do it.”

  “I’m proud of you, honey. I know you’d do anything to get to play on that team, and here’s your chance.”

  Skye nodded. “Right. I’ll do it for the team.”

  20

  Hiroshi

  Hiroshi had been waiting two straight days for the sun. The rain had started as harmless drizzle on the day of Grandfather’s second treatment. While the rain and wind gathered strength, Grandfather seemed to grow weaker. Father said that Grandfather would have to get worse before he could get better. Grandfather had already gotten worse; when was he supposed to get better?

  But today the sun shone, and a healthy breeze chased white clouds across a blue sky—perfect kite-flying weather. Hiroshi couldn’t wait to show Grandfather the surprise.

  The bus lurched to a stop, and the brakes let out a whoosh sigh. Hiroshi didn’t even glance in Skye’s direction as he got off the bus and raced all the way to his front door.

  “I’m home!” He tossed his backpack at the foot of the stairs.

  “Shh, Hiro-chan.” Mother came down the steps. “Grandfather is resting.”

  “Can’t I wake him up? I have to show him something.”

  Mother shook her head. “I just gave him his medication a few minutes ago. He should sleep for a couple of hours, at least.”

  “Hours?” Hiroshi glanced at the hall clock. “It’ll be dark by then. I wanted to go to the park.”

  “Hiroshi, I don’t think he’s up to it today.”

  “But when is he supposed to start feeling better?”

  Mother frowned. “He’s still tired, Hiroshi. Maybe tomorrow.” She put her arm around his shoulder. “He just needs some rest.”

  “But I’ve got a surprise for him—I repainted the part that Grandfather fixed. The part Skye broke.”

  “He’ll be pleased,” Mother said. “You can show him when he wakes up.” She glanced out the front window. “It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t you ask Sorano to fly the kite with you?”

  Mother didn’t understand anything. There was no way he would ever let Skye touch the dragon kite again. She’d probably ruin it for good.

  “I’ll just wait for Grandfather—maybe tomorrow.”

  “You might meet some new friends at the park—lots of children live in our neighborhood.”

  Our neighborhood. This wasn’t Hiroshi’s neighborhood. His neighborhood was on the other side of the world.

  He carried his backpack upstairs and set it on the desk in his room. He began pulling out his notebooks, then stopped. Maybe Grandfather would still be awake. Hiroshi freed the dragon kite from its hiding place under his bed and inspected the spot he’d painted. Would Grandfather be able to tell where the new washi paper joined the old?

  Hiroshi stuck his head into the empty hallway. The beeps and clicks from the computer downstairs meant that Mother was in the study, probably emailing one of her sisters. Pausing outside of Grandfather’s room, he pressed his ear to the door. Nothing. He knocked—loud enough for Grandfather to hear, but soft enough that Mother wouldn’t. When there was no answer, he inched the door open until he could peek into the room.

  “Grandfather?” he whispered. Grandfather didn’t stir. Hiroshi slipped into the room with the kite, then closed the door behind him. The shades blocked most of the sun, but Hiroshi could still hear the wind rustling through the oak that stood guard outside the window.

  He switched on the rice paper lamp and knelt beside the futon. Grandfather had insisted on having a futon when they moved to America. He said he’d never slept in a western bed as long as he’d lived, and he wasn’t about to start at the age of eighty-three.

  Grandfather wasn’t snoring yet, which meant he hadn’t been sleeping long. Hiroshi knew Mother would be angry if she found out he woke him up, but Grandfather wouldn’t mind. Besides, he’d want to know the kite was all fixed.

  “Grandfather?” Hiroshi touched his shoulder. Nothing. “It’s me—Hiroshi.” He jiggled Grandfather’s arm.

  Grandfather turned his head and opened one eye. “Hiroshi.” He smiled and opened the other eye.

  Hiroshi held up the kite. “I have a surprise for you.”

  Grandfather squinted, looking confused.

  “I painted it.” He brought the kite closer so Grandfather could see it better. “The fixed part, I mean.”

  Grandfather brushed his fingertips across the dragon scales Hiroshi had painted. He nodded and smiled. “Well done, Hiroshi. The dragon will be eager to fly again.”

  Hiroshi jumped up. “I knew you’d want to fly it—I told Mother.”

  Grandfather’s eyes closed. “It is this medicine they give me. I will take a quick nap first. And then we will go.” A quick nap? How long would that be? Grandfather kept his eyes closed. “Why don’t you get your homework done, then come and wake me up?”

  Hiroshi stood. “Okay.” He laid the dragon kite beside the futon. He could tell from Grandfather’s breathing that he had fallen asleep once again.

  When Hiroshi returned an hour later, snoring came from behind Grandfather’s door. He snuck into the room and picked up the kite.

  “Grandfather?” He knelt and squeezed his hand. Grandfather snorted once and rolled onto his side. The snoring began again, soft at first, growing louder with each breath.

  Hiroshi sighed. He clicked off the lamp and stood, still holding the kite. When he reached the door, he tried one more time. “Grandfather? I’m going now.”

  More snoring.

  Hiroshi closed the door behind him, defeated. He found Mother at the computer. “I’m going to the park.” He held the dragon kite in one hand, and the reel in the other.

  Mother looked up. “Thank you for letting him sleep.”

  Hiroshi nodded, then started for the door.

  “Hiroshi?”

  He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

  “He’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  Hiroshi shrugged. “That’s what you said yesterday.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “I know this is hard. It is difficult for all of us.”

  Hiroshi nodded. It was all hard—this new place, school, English, and most of all, watching Grandfather get sicker.

  Mother smiled. “I have some good news.”

  “Grandfather doesn’t need the treatment anymore?”

  Mother smiled a sad smile. “I hope that will be true one day soon.”

  Hiroshi tried again. “We’re all moving back to Japan?”

  Mother tilted her head. “Guess again.”

  Hiroshi sighed.

  “I’ve invited Sorano over tomorrow to begin tutoring. Working around her soccer schedule, we’ve carved out three days per week for the lessons.”

  “That’s the good news?” Hiroshi raised an eyebrow.

  “Now you can start learning English faster and help Sorano prepare for her Japanese exams. What do you think?”
She looked like this was the world’s best idea.

  “Does it have to be three days a week?”

  “Four days would be better.”

  This conversation was not going Hiroshi’s way. “Do we have to?”

  Mother crossed her arms—which meant yes, they had to.

  “I’m going to the park, okay? I’ll be back before dinner.”

  He slammed the door, hurried down the driveway, and headed toward the park. Tutoring sessions with Skye would eat up time he had planned to spend with Grandfather. Maybe if he studied harder, they wouldn’t have to tutor each other. But that would mean Skye would have to study harder, too. Not likely.

  The wind tugged at the kite, eager to sweep the dragon up into the sky. Hiroshi broke into a jog and didn’t stop until he reached the hill overlooking the playground. He stood with his back to the wind and closed his eyes. He took a breath, opened his eyes, and released the kite. It climbed higher and higher, happy to be back in the sky where it belonged.

  “It’s up! Look at it go!” Hiroshi said before remembering Grandfather wasn’t with him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d come back with Grandfather.

  He played the line, challenging the dragon to dip and turn and climb even higher. When the kite obeyed, pride welled in Hiroshi’s rib cage. But when he thought about Grandfather, doubt and fear settled in—doubt that Grandfather would get better and fear that there wasn’t much time left for flying kites together.

  21

  Skye

  Skye spotted Hiroshi as soon as she biked into the park. The dragon was already flapping high over his head. Was he still mad about her stepping on the kite? Just thinking of that sickening crunch of bamboo under her feet made her want to turn around and go home. But there was only one way she could get more time with Grandfather, and that was through Hiroshi the Gatekeeper. No, more like Hiroshi the Grandfather Keeper.

  Skye stuck her hand in her back pocket to make sure the peace offering was still there, then pedaled around the playground, past the kids playing basketball, and all the way up to the top of the hill. She laid her bike on the grass and walked up behind Hiroshi. He looked hypnotized by the dragon.

 

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