Maddy laughed. Tsuji was older and bigger than Kazuki and often picked on him. “That sounds scary.”
“But when I have my ninja suit on, I won’t be afraid,” Kazuki said.
Maddy nodded.
“You’re lucky that you don’t have an older brother,” Kazuki said.
“I guess,” Maddy said.
“How come you don’t have any brothers or sisters?” Kazuki asked.
“I’m not sure,” Maddy said. “I asked Mom and she said it was because they couldn’t afford any more kids. She said I was very expensive.”
Kazuki laughed. “When you say it like that, it sounds like she bought you in a shop.”
Maddy laughed too. “I guess your mom and dad could afford to buy more kids than my mom and dad,” she said.
“I guess so,” Kazuki said. “Or maybe you were just really expensive because you can speak lots of languages.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Maddy. “She’s not happy about it.”
“I think it’s just because she doesn’t understand,” Kazuki said. “People are afraid of what they don’t know.”
“I suppose,” said Maddy, and she gave Kazuki a small hug because she knew he was really talking about himself.
CHAPTER THREE
THE MAN FROM CHANNEL FOUR
THE MAN FROM CHANNEL FOUR came around on a Wednesday afternoon after school. Maddy was baking.
She was making muffins — the easy kind that came in a packet, and all you had to do was add a little water and spoon the mixture into a muffin tray and put it in the oven for a while.
Her dad, who was a chef and worked in a fancy restaurant, had shown her how to do it. Maddy’s mom, on the other hand, didn’t like baking and thought it was messy and unnecessary when you could buy perfectly good cakes and cookies at the supermarket, and fresh muffins and pastries at the bakery on the corner.
Maddy had just taken the muffins out of the oven and tipped them onto a cooling rack when the doorbell rang.
She didn’t hear her mom going to answer it, so when the doorbell rang a second time, Maddy went to the front door. There were smears of chocolate mixture all over her apron, on her face, and even in her hair (she was a rather messy cook), but she wasn’t worried about that.
On the doorstep she found a rather floppy kind of man with long, fluffy hair and a wrinkly shirt, which was not very well tucked in. He peered at Maddy over the top of a pair of thick black glasses.
“Hello,” said Maddy.
“Uh, yes, uh,” the man said, which wasn’t saying anything really. “You must be, uh, little Maddy. Is your, uh, mother or father home?”
She was about to answer him when she heard her mom’s voice behind her.
“Hello, you must be Darcy,” her mom said.
Maddy turned and looked at her mom. She had put her best dress and makeup on and had a gushy look on her face like when she met that singer from Scotland, or that actor who had once been on that TV show she liked.
But this man didn’t look like an actor or a singer.
“Uh, yes, yes, that’s me,” the man said.
Maddy thought he said “uh” and “yes” too much.
“Come in,” her mom said, pushing Maddy to one side. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Maddy was about to go back to the kitchen, but her mom said, “Maddy, darling, would you like to join us for a muffin? I have some lemonade, too, if you’d like some.”
“You’re a very good girl to help your mom with the baking,” the man at the doorway said.
Maddy just smiled.
They sat in the front room, which her mom always called the parlor, although it was also the living room and also the TV room, and when her parents had a dinner party it was also the dining room. But today it was just the parlor.
“Uh,” the floppy man said after he had stuffed his mouth with not one but two of Maddy’s muffins. “These are delicious. Delicious.”
There were lots of crumbs on his jacket and a few in his pocket, which might come in handy if he got hungry later.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” her mom said with a wave of her hand.
Maddy just smiled again.
The man put his plate down and leaned toward Maddy. “Yes, well. What a pleasure it is to meet you, young lady. A pleasure indeed.”
Maddy chewed slowly. Her mom had given her only half a muffin, and it wasn’t even the big half, so she was taking her time and making it last as long as possible.
“To meet me?” she asked after she had swallowed.
“Uh, yes, your mother invited us to talk to you.”
Maddy was confused about why he said “us” when there was only one of him, and it must have shown on her face, because the man said, “I must apologize. My name is Darcy Holdem. I’m a researcher for Smart Talk.”
“What’s that?” Maddy asked.
“It’s a television program.”
“Really?” Maddy said.
“Yes, yes, yes. We’ve heard about your rather special abilities, and we’re considering having you on our, uh, our show.”
“On television?” Maddy asked, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Yes, on television,” Mr. Holdem said. “Would you like that?”
“Yes! I’ve always wanted to be on TV!” Maddy said. “What would I have to do?”
On some television shows they had people doing all sorts of crazy things, like being marooned on a desert island, or running over slippery shapes and falling into swimming pools. On one Saturday morning kids’ show, the guests were “slimed” by icky green goo that fell from the ceiling.
“We just want to talk to you about your ability to speak other languages,” Mr. Holdem said.
Maddy looked at him suspiciously. “Will I get slimed?”
Mr. Holdem laughed. His bow tie quivered, and his glasses slid down his nose. “Goodness gracious, no,” he said, pushing his glasses back up. “We don’t slime people on our show.”
“Will I fall into a swimming pool?” Maddy asked.
“No, nothing like that,” he said. “We just want to interview you.”
“Well, I suppose it would be all right,” Maddy said. “As long as it’s okay with Mom.”
She knew that she had to ask permission for anything like this, and her mom often didn’t approve. But to Maddy’s surprise, her mom said, “Yes, of course you can, darling. Would you like another muffin?”
Now Maddy was starting to get suspicious.
“That’s settled then,” Mr. Holdem said. “But first I need to ask you a few questions. Just to make sure everything is as it seems.”
“Okay,” Maddy said.
“I am going to read you some phrases in different languages,” Mr. Holdem said. “I want you to tell me what they mean.”
“Okay,” said Maddy again. This sounded like a fun game.
Mr. Holdem pulled some white cards out of his jacket pocket.
“Here’s the first one,” he said.
Her mom was watching her closely.
“De spin is onder de tafel,” he said.
Maddy bent down, peering under the coffee table. “No there’s not!” she said.
“Not what?” her mom asked.
“A spider under the table,” Maddy said with a little laugh.
Mr. Holdem laughed. “I see you understood.”
“Yes, I did,” Maddy said. “What language was that?”
“That was Dutch,” he said. “Didn’t you know?”
“No, I’ve never heard it before,” Maddy said.
“You’ve never heard it before,” Mr. Holdem repeated her words slowly, almost as if he didn’t believe her. He picked up another card and said, “My mother flew to the moon in a rocket ship shaped like a banana.”
“I’m not sure,” Maddy
said.
“Not sure about what?” her mom asked.
“I think Mr. Holdem said that his mother flew to the moon in a rocket ship shaped like a banana,” Maddy said. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe not,” Mr. Holdem said, “but that is exactly what I said in Maori.”
Another card. “I love to eat apples, but only while under water,” he said, in Italian this time.
Maddy giggled and told him what he had said. He made a note on that card and tried another.
“The eating habits of the South African anteater leave a lot to be desired.”
Maddy translated that too.
“That was Croatian,” Mr. Holdem said. He looked at Maddy’s mom. “Well, I’m satisfied,” he said. “Very satisfied. I’ll be in touch about the dates and times, and will give you some details about where to go. Now, about the compensation we discussed.”
“We can talk about that later,” her mom said quickly.
“Uh, yes. Indeed,” Mr. Holdem said.
“Thank you, Mr. Holdem,” Maddy said. “I enjoyed playing your game.”
Mr. Holdem beamed. “You are very charming. Charming,” he said. “I look forward to meeting you again soon.”
CHAPTER FOUR
TSUJI
AFTER MR. HOLDEM LEFT, Maddy went to find Kazuki to share her exciting news. He wasn’t at home, but she found him out in the alleyway, playing baseball by himself.
The alley was a narrow, cobblestoned street that ran along the back of their apartment block and the backs of the houses on the next street. It was too narrow for cars.
Kazuki was throwing his new baseball against the wall at the end of the lane, catching it in his new mitt.
On the other side of the wall was a park, and Maddy could hear the shouts of the other kids in the neighborhood playing and laughing. They sounded like they were having fun, and it was quite sad that Kazuki was here by himself. Walls were not just made of concrete, she thought.
Kazuki’s eyes brightened when he saw Maddy. “Hi, Maddy,” he said.
“I’m going to be on TV!” Maddy blurted out, then told him all about Mr. Holdem and Smart Talk.
Kazuki seemed as excited as if it was him, not Maddy, who was going to be on TV.
“You want to play catch?” Kazuki asked when Maddy finished telling him her news.
She nodded. To be honest, Maddy didn’t really want to because Kazuki was so good at it and she wasn’t. But she knew he wanted to, so she always said yes.
Kazuki tossed the mitt across to her, and she backed away a little down the lane. “Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” she said.
Kazuki lined up in a pitcher’s stance, drew back his arm, and let the ball fly. He had pitched for his little league team in Japan and was very good at it. All Maddy had to do was to keep her mitt in the one place and the ball would fly in a straight line right into her palm. She used her other hand to steady the mitt, and it was just as well that she did, because the ball hit the mitt so hard that if she had been using only one hand, she would probably have smacked herself in the face with the back of it.
She rolled the ball back to Kazuki because she wasn’t very good at throwing. Often a ball would go off in strange and unexpected directions if she tried to throw it.
It skipped and bounced over the cobblestones.
Kazuki threw it again, just as hard, just as straight, and she rolled it back to him a second time. He was about to throw it again when a doorway about halfway down the alley bounced open, and Tsuji came out.
Tsuji liked picking on Kazuki and always said that it was just for fun, but Maddy thought that most of the time he was just being mean.
They were as different as chalk and cheese, Kazuki and Tsuji, and not because Kazuki was shy and Tsuji wasn’t. Kazuki was small for his age and slight of build. Tsuji was tall and chunky. Kazuki was kind-hearted and generous. Tsuji was, well, Tsuji.
Kazuki stopped throwing the ball and held it.
“Hello, Maddy,” Tsuji said.
“Hello, Tsuji,” said Maddy, carefully.
“Hi, ugly,” Tsuji said to Kazuki, who ignored him. Tsuji noticed the baseball. “Are you guys playing catch?”
Neither Kazuki nor Maddy said anything.
“Great! I love playing catch,” he said. “Throw one to me.” He advanced down the alley until he was in front of Maddy. “Come on, throw one to me.”
Kazuki looked at Maddy and frowned. He knew exactly what Tsuji was up to.
“What are you, stupid as well as ugly?” Tsuji asked.
“You’re the ugly one,” Kazuki said.
“You’re so ugly your doctor is a vet,” said Tsuji.
“You’re so ugly you make onions cry,” Kazuki said.
“Yeah, well, you’re so ugly . . .”
This carried on for quite a few minutes until Maddy got sick of it and cried, “Stop it!”
“So throw me the ball,” Tsuji said.
Kazuki lowered his eyes, sighed, then reluctantly drew his arm back again and let the ball fly. It went a bit sideways, off target. He had done that deliberately, Maddy realized, trying to keep the ball away from Tsuji. But it didn’t work. Tsuji stretched out an arm and nabbed the ball out of midair as it flew past. He didn’t even need a mitt.
“Thanks,” he said. “I needed a new baseball.”
He turned and started to walk back down the lane.
Maddy blocked his way, and when he tried to push past her, she moved back in front of him. “Get out of my way, little girl,” he said.
“Give me Kazuki’s ball,” Maddy said. “You know it was his birthday present.” Inside, Maddy felt her temper start to stir.
“It’s my ball now,” Tsuji said. “He gave it to me. And it’s not even my birthday.” He laughed out loud at his joke.
“Give it to me,” Maddy said and politely added, “please.”
“Why? Is it your birthday?” Tsuji asked, laughing again.
“No.”
“Then . . . no,” Tsuji said. “Get out of my way.”
He tried to push past, but she moved so he couldn’t.
Her temper was rising like a wild animal starting to pace inside its cage. “Don’t make me angry,” Maddy said. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”
“I said no,” Tsuji said.
“Even I don’t like me when I’m angry,” warned Maddy.
He opened his mouth to say something else but then looked at her eyes. Somewhere deep inside them he must have seen that wild animal peering back at him.
He looked at the ball, still shiny, bright, and new. He sniffed — a long, gurgling sound. Then from somewhere deep in his throat he hacked up a big glob of mucus, a huge yellow-brown thing that quivered and bubbled as though it was alive. He spat it onto the ball then tossed the ball into the gutter where it rolled, smearing the mucus into a long streak, collecting dust and old dry leaves.
“It’s all yours,” he said.
He pushed past Maddy and went back in through the door from which he had come out.
Kazuki walked over and looked at his baseball.
Maddy kneeled down. “Don’t!” Kazuki said, but she did anyway. She picked up the ball gingerly and carried it over to a faucet on the wall by the entrance. She rinsed off the muddy slime and leaves and handed it back to Kazuki. He took it but looked as though he no longer wanted it.
“Tsuji’s a bully,” he said. “You’re so brave to stand up to him.”
“Not really,” Maddy said.
“Well, I think you’re brave,” Kazuki said.
Maddy shrugged but said nothing.
She felt sorry for Kazuki. It was bad enough that he had no friends and was struggling to fit in in a country where everyone spoke a different language, without having to put up with a me
an big brother as well.
But she also felt sorry for Tsuji. It couldn’t be nice to be a bully. She felt a bit sad that he didn’t know how to be a different kind of person.
“I’ll tell you what I am nervous about,” Maddy said.
“What?”
“Going on television,” Maddy said.
“That’s going to be so cool!” Kazuki said, brightening, the ball and his bully of a brother forgotten for now.
CHAPTER FIVE
SMART TALK
THE STUDIO WAS FULL of bright lights that hurt Maddy’s eyes, but the producer lady told her not to squint or she’d look “sneaky.” Maddy didn’t want to look sneaky for her first time on television. The producer was a young Chinese lady named Ms. Yee, but she said Maddy could call her Jacquie.
It was exciting being on television. She got to sit in a big red chair with silver arms. It twirled in a circle when she pushed herself around with her feet . . . until Jacquie nicely asked her to stop doing it so the camera people could set their “focus.”
The camera people had huge television cameras on stands that rolled across the floor and went up and down and around. It looked like an important job to be a cameraperson.
After a while, the interviewer, whose name was Devron Chapman, came and sat in another red chair next to Maddy’s and chatted with her about the weather and her school and other stuff that didn’t seem to matter at all. Maddy thought he was trying to make her relax, but she felt rather relaxed already, although she would have liked to spin her chair again.
Devron leaned forward and whispered to her. “Okay, but just one more time.”
Maddy giggled and pushed off with her feet, spinning completely around and coming back to face Devron with a big smile on her face.
Jacquie was looking in their direction, but Maddy saw Devron give her a wink, and that meant everything was okay.
On the other side of Devron was a long sofa, and three people came to sit on it. Maddy wasn’t sure who they were and thought maybe they were the next guests to be interviewed after her.
The first was a thin, ratty-looking man with pale skin and long hair on one side that he brushed over the top of his head to hide a shiny bald spot. Maddy thought it looked a little silly. He wore an old brown jacket with leather patches at the elbows, and there was an egg stain on his tie.
Maddy West and the Tongue Taker Page 2