“Moments are like birds,” Halmoni always told her. “Not good to keep them caged up in notebook. Let them go.” But Jin liked being able to flip through her notebooks and see moments that she’d saved a year or two ago, as if they’d just happened. You never knew when you might need to remember a specific detail or event. Maybe she would even make an important discovery like Jarvis Monroe did, finding that painting in the garden.
She glanced up at the two round mirrors perched like eyeballs near the ceiling. They allowed a view of all five of the store’s aisles at once, and right now reflected the image of a strange-looking girl walking into the store. She wove around the stacks of boxes and slunk down the condiment aisle. Jin couldn’t really see her face but noticed that the girl had reddish-brown skin and dark, shoulder-length hair cut into a choppy, uneven style. She wore a long black jacket held together with safety pins instead of buttons and clunky combat boots. Jin grabbed her pale pink notebook and started writing as fast as she could:
She walks slightly hunched over, like she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself. Her eyes keep darting around. What is she looking for? What is she hiding?
Jin continued to watch as the girl paced from aisle to aisle, pausing briefly to look at one item or another. At one point, she stopped and stared squarely into one of the mirrors near the ceiling. Jin gasped. She knew this girl! She was in her history class at school, but she couldn’t remember the girl’s name. Jin wondered whether she should go over to say hello, to be polite, but she really just wanted to watch a little while longer.
A few seconds later, the girl returned to the condiment aisle. She pulled a small object out of her pocket and stuck it onto one of the jars on the shelf. As Jin strained to see what it was, her uncle Jae’s gigantic head appeared on the other side of the deli case, obstructing her view.
“Surprise! Whatcha looking at, Jinnie Bean?” Uncle Jae exclaimed as he bobbed from side to side, playfully blocking her as she desperately stretched her neck to see around him.
“Nothing.” Jin frowned, scuttling out from behind the deli case. By the time she got to the condiment aisle, the girl was gone. Jin quickly scanned the shelves to try to find what the girl had left there. And then she saw it. Taped to a jar of dill pickles was a MetroCard subway pass with a pink smiley face Post-it note that said Enjoy 1 Free Ride. Jin stuffed the card and the note into her pocket, and before she even knew what she was doing, she was heading toward the storeroom to grab her jacket. She had to follow this girl.
“Back in a little while,” Jin yelled as she zipped past Halmoni and Harabeoji.
“Where you go? We do inventory soon,” Halmoni called after her.
“Research!” Jin called as she sailed through the door, glimpsing another MetroCard and note nestled among the apples in the bin near the entrance.
On the sidewalk in front of the store, Jin realized that she had no idea where she was going. Her family’s bodega was on 125th and Malcolm X Boulevard, which was a pretty crowded intersection. How am I ever going to find her with all these people around? Jin frantically looked up and down the block, her heart beating like a wild bird in her chest. The girl was nowhere in sight.
She was about to give up when she heard a voice say, “Yeah, it was just taped to the chair with a note. A free MetroCard. Isn’t that amazing?” She turned to see a man coming out of the coffee shop next door, showing off his find to a friend. That was the clue she needed. Jin took off in the direction of the coffee shop.
After about a block, she saw the girl’s choppy hair bobbing up and down in the crowd, a few of the strands waving like fingers. This way, this way. The girl’s long black jacket blew out behind her like a cape. Jin wished that she had her notebook, but she’d been in such a rush to leave, she’d forgotten it at the store. I’ll just have to remember this on my own, she thought.
She made sure to keep enough distance between herself and the girl that she wouldn’t be seen. They walked east on 125th Street, weaving through throngs of people, dogs, and baby strollers. Along the way, Mystery Girl stopped at random cafés, stores, and bus stops to leave her MetroCards and smiley-face notes.
At one point, she ran out of cards. Jin followed her into a subway station and watched from behind a large man with a huge shopping cart, as Mystery Girl whipped out a credit card and bought a whole bunch more at the vending machine. A credit card? What kid has her own credit card, let alone enough money to buy all those subway passes? Jin wondered. Once Mystery Girl had amassed a small stack, she stuck a smiley-face note on each one and headed back out to the street. Jin wanted to keep following her, but she knew that Halmoni and Harabeoji would be expecting her. Reluctantly, she walked back to the store, her mind full of questions.
Who is this girl? What just happened? Jin wasn’t really sure. All she knew was that she intended to find out.
The next day in history class, Jin listened closely as Ms. Weir took attendance and found out that Mystery Girl’s name was Alexandra Roebuck. That was disappointing. She’d assumed that the girl’s name would be a little less, well, ordinary.
Alexandra sat at the end of the row in front of Jin’s, near the window. She was wearing the same ripped black jacket and combat boots she had on yesterday. How have I not paid attention to her before? Jin thought, and quickly reached for her notebook. As she flipped it open, the MetroCard Alexandra had left taped to the pickle jar at the store fluttered out and landed in her lap, a tiny reminder of all the questions she still needed to answer about what had happened yesterday.
Jin glanced at Alexandra, who was staring out the window, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. Ten minutes later, she was still in the exact same position. Jin began to scribble.
Alexandra is still looking out the window. What is she thinking about? Is she some kind of genius who doesn’t have to work as hard as everybody else????
Halfway through the period, Ms. Weir gave the class time to work on their neighborhood projects. Rose, who sat on the other side of the room, dragged her chair over to Jin’s desk so they could work together. Jin shot a look in Alexandra’s direction. She was still in her seat, staring out the window. After a few seconds, she pulled out a pad of pink Post-it notes, like the one she’d left in the store with the MetroCard, and began to write on them, one at a time. Maybe she’s planning another MetroCard expedition …
“Hey, did you hear me?” Rose nudged Jin.
“Huh?” Jin blinked.
“Your project. I asked if you had picked a topic for your project. What were you staring at anyway?” Rose frowned.
“Nothing. I’m still deciding on my topic. How’s yours going?” Jin quickly changed the subject.
“I found the coolest website about fashion during the Harlem Renaissance. Weren’t you interested in doing something about the writers and artists during that time?” Rose asked, but didn’t give Jin time to answer. “I just adore the 1920s-style dresses with their long waists and beadwork and … ”
As Rose continued to talk about her idea, Jin’s attention drifted back to Alexandra. She was dying to find out what Alexandra had written on her Post-it notes, but how? Maybe she could casually walk by her desk and just happen to sneak a peek.
“Uh, Rose, I’ve gotta go sharpen my pencil,” Jin said. Rose gave her a weird look as Jin grabbed a couple of stubby pencils from her pencil case. She was just about to get up from her desk, when Alexandra suddenly whipped around in her seat with a seriously evil expression on her face. At first, Jin thought that the look was directed at her, but as she followed the direction of Alexandra’s gaze, she saw that the death stare was actually intended for Brittany Stevenson, who was blabbing loudly to Camilla Chen about her upcoming birthday party. Jin sat back in her chair.
“I thought you were going to sharpen your pencil,” Rose said.
“Changed my mind. I’ll use a pen.”
“Suit yourself.” Rose shrugged. Jin reached for a pen and pretended to take notes for her project as she eavesd
ropped on Brittany.
“It’s going to be sooo cool,” Brittany gushed. “My parents are renting out the entire spa, and everybody is going to get mani-pedis and makeovers. I already know what they’re giving me: a new iPhone, diamond earrings, and that gold Prada bag I’ve had my eye on. Then for the second half of my birthday present, they’re taking me to Milan for a shopping spree this summer. Awesome, right?”
Alexandra looked like she wanted to strangle Brittany. When the end-of-period bell rang, she charged over to her and thrust a small white card in her face. “This is an organization that helps needy kids. Maybe you should think about donating some of your awesome birthday gifts.” Alexandra seethed.
Brittany just scowled, completely ignoring the card. “I feel sorry for those kids, but honestly, it’s not my fault that they don’t have stuff.”
“Yeah, but you do, and you could use your stuff to make their lives better.” Alexandra locked eyes with her.
“That’s not really my job or my problem.”
“It’s everyone’s problem.” Alexandra forced the words out through clenched teeth.
“You’re one to talk.” Brittany rolled her eyes and packed up her books. “What a weirdo,” she snickered to Camilla as they sauntered out of the classroom. Alexandra stormed back to her seat.
Jin’s mouth hung open. True, it was really annoying the way Brittany was constantly bragging about being rich, but it seemed like Alexandra took it personally, like Brittany had done something to her specifically. Now Jin really wanted to talk to her, but as she inched her way over to Alexandra’s desk, she started to lose her nerve. Too close to back down now, she thought as she took a deep breath and lightly tapped her Mystery Girl on the shoulder.
“Hi, Alexandra,” she said cheerfully. She wanted to appear friendly but not overly eager.
“It’s Alex,” the girl answered flatly, stuffing books into her bag without looking up. Jin wasn’t sure what to say next, but then she remembered the MetroCard. “I think you dropped this yesterday.” She held up the card.
Alex glanced at it with a blank expression on her face. “I didn’t drop it.”
“Okay, I know you didn’t just drop it. But I saw you. My grandparents own the bodega where you left it. You know, on the pickle jar?”
“Okay.” Alex shrugged. Awkward silence.
“Um, I think what you did with the MetroCards was really cool. If you do it again, I, uh, I’d like to come with you,” Jin stammered. She knew she probably sounded totally desperate, but she didn’t care.
“I work alone,” Alex said firmly as she swung her bag over her shoulder, heading toward the door.
“Just a moment, Alexandra,” Ms. Weir called. Jin went back to her desk and packed up her stuff as slowly as possible so that she could listen to their conversation.
“I’m not sure what’s going on, Alex, but we’re already a month into the school year and you’ve turned in less than half of the homework assignments. You’re also not doing the work that’s required during class time. I haven’t seen any evidence that you’ve even started your neighborhood project, which is worth forty percent of your grade. If you don’t complete this project, you’re in danger of failing this class, and I don’t want that to happen.” Ms. Weir had a concerned frown on her face.
Alex just shrugged and stared down at the floor.
“If it’s a matter of needing extra help, I’m always available to work with you after school,” Ms. Weir offered. Alex didn’t say anything. “Okay, well, this neighborhood project is your best chance to make up the work that you’ve missed. If you do well, you’ll be in good shape to pass. Perhaps it would help to work with another student? You’re allowed to work in groups.”
Alex grunted. “I prefer to work by myself.”
“However you choose to do it is up to you. But I need you to know how important this project is. Do you understand?” Ms. Weir asked.
“Yes, I get it! May I be excused now?” Alex huffed.
Ms. Weir handed Alex an envelope. “Please give this to your parents. I’d like to speak with them.”
Alex grabbed the envelope and rushed toward the door. Jin cornered her before she could make it out of the classroom.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping—”
“Sure about that?” Alex interrupted.
Jin blushed but continued. “I heard what Ms. Weir said, and I can help with your, uh, situation.”
“I don’t need your help.” Alex clenched her teeth.
Suddenly, Jin had an idea. “Excuse me, Ms. Weir?” The teacher looked up from her desk. “Would it be okay if Alex and I work together on our neighborhood project?” she asked sweetly.
“What are you doing?” Alex hissed. Jin ignored her.
“That would be wonderful!” Ms. Weir beamed. “Alex, what do you say?”
Alex glared at Jin. “Fine,” she answered.
Outside in the hall, Alex charged at Jin, leaning so close, their faces were just inches apart. Jin took a step back.
“I don’t appreciate being railroaded,” Alex said gruffly.
“I just wanted to help,” Jin said. Alex let out a loud, angry laugh.
“Yeah, right. What do you really want?”
“I—I want to come with you on one of your missions,” Jin said, her voice shaking slightly. Alex didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then jabbed her finger toward Jin, stopping just short of her forehead.
“One time,” she said. “You can come with me one time. Then you help me with this stupid project, and we’re done. I’ll meet you at the bodega on Saturday.” With that, Alex whirled around and headed down the corridor. Jin saw her crumple up the envelope Mrs. Weir had given her and toss it in the trash.
“Are you okay?” asked Rose, who rushed toward Jin as she was coming back from her locker. “What was that all about?”
“I’m fine. Alex and I just decided to work together on our neighborhood project.” Jin grinned, pleased. She was going on a Mystery Girl mission.
Rose frowned. “Why are you smiling? And why would you want to work with that girl? She is totally strange, and possibly dangerous, though she does have good taste in fashion.”
“What do you mean? Her clothes are all ripped up and worn-out-looking,” Jin said, confused.
“Only because she made them look like that. Believe me, I know my designers. That jacket and those boots? All high-end European designers. Her outfit probably cost two thousand dollars, easy. The real question is why someone would want to ruin such beautiful clothing. It’s an insult to designers everywhere,” Rose clucked, shaking her head. “Anyhoo, I’ve gotta get to math. Later!”
“Yeah, see you.” Jin waved absently, thinking about what Rose had just told her. If Alex was wearing a two-thousand-dollar outfit, then why was she so angry at Brittany for bragging about her expensive stuff? Jin took out her notebook and wrote:
Things with Alex are getting weird, very weird. Let’s just say, she really is a mystery girl. And did I really just force her to work with me on our neighborhood project so that I could hang out with her on one of her missions? So not like me. What’s up with that?
Saturday afternoon, Jin rushed through her chores at the store and then crawled into her workspace behind the deli case with her memory notebook to jot down a few thoughts before Alex arrived. Jin wanted to make sure they came up with a subject for their class project today. She also had a million questions that she wanted to ask Alex about herself—even though she was almost certain Alex wouldn’t want to answer them. Still, it was better to be prepared in any case.
“You finish homework?” Halmoni, who was perched on the stool behind the cash register, eyed her suspiciously.
“I finished it yesterday,” Jin answered, biting the end of her pen. She was just about to start writing when the door to the bodega flew open. She sucked in her breath and looked up expectantly. It was just Rose. Jin sighed, then felt a twinge of guilt that she was disappointed.
Rose made a
beeline to the deli case and urgently tapped on the glass. “Jin, are you back there? I need to talk to you.”
Jin clambered out from behind the counter. Rose’s normally pale face was bright red and streaked with tears. “Rose, what happened?” She quickly moved closer and put a hand on Rose’s shoulder.
“I’m going to lose Noodles!” Rose wailed. Halmoni calmly handed her a Kleenex.
“What do you mean, lose Noodles?” Jin asked, but Rose was crying too hard to answer, her face getting redder by the second. Jin worried that she might pass out. After a few minutes, Rose calmed down enough to eke out a few words in between sniffles.
“My mom just signed a lease on a new apartment.” She gulped for air. “And the building doesn’t allow dogs! My dad’s new place doesn’t, either. It’s bad enough that they’re getting divorced, now I have to get rid of Noodles, too!” She started to wail again.
“No way! We have to fix this,” Jin said, upset now herself. Rose without Noodles just seemed … wrong. “I can help you find a new home for Noodles. And we could ask the new owner to allow you to visit him as part of the deal,” she volunteered before she had a chance to think it through.
“Really? That’s a great idea, Jin! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rose gushed, and gave her friend a big hug. “So how do we do it?”
Jin led her to the back of the store and sat down at the table. “Maybe we could make a flyer.” She started sketching out ideas in her notebook. “And I could ask Halmoni to post it on the bulletin board in the store.”
“That’s brilliant!” A look of relief spread across Rose’s face. “Do you mind if I use your computer? I can design a flyer and add a really cute picture of Noodles. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she suggested.
“Good idea,” Jin agreed, and signed her onto the computer in Harabeoji’s office. Now, all she had to do was to get Halmoni to agree to the plan, which could be easier said than done. Halmoni was pretty strict about what she posted on the store’s community bulletin board. One time, she refused to post a flyer for someone selling a car because she thought they were charging too much. Jin had given up trying to figure out her grandmother. She remembered reading somewhere once that the best way to persuade someone to do something was to give them enough options so that they couldn’t say no. While Rose worked on the computer, Jin wrote out a list of options to present to Halmoni:
The Harlem Charade Page 2