Kiki's Delivery Service

by Eiko Kadono

  Oh, there he is. Tombo sat on his bike in the middle of the bridge, waving both hands in huge arcs. Kiki waved back.

  “Isn’t that Tombo?” Jiji asked in surprise from behind her.

  “Yeah,” Kiki said proudly.

  “Did you know he would be there?”

  Kiki didn’t answer and just kept waving.

  “You’re not going to land? Don’t you feel bad just waving without a proper goodbye?”

  “This is enough—it’s fine.” Kiki waved even harder, flew two laps of the bridge end to end, then snaked left and right before zooming off toward the north. Tombo grew smaller until he was hidden behind the bridge.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’re on our way.”

  Now all she had to do was fly in a straight line home. Her broom soared smoothly, flying no differently from Kokiri’s old broom. When did her kicking filly learn to cruise so nicely? She marveled anew at the thought.

  As Kiki flew, the bits of joy and wonder she had shared with the people of Koriko became clear. Osono had told her to come back soon. And Tombo had gifted her the purse—he must have felt the same way. Some townspeople even thought that something was missing if she wasn’t flying through their sky! As she traveled on, her doubts and worries receded behind her with the wind.

  Kiki and Jiji’s journey went much faster than it had a year ago.

  The sun set, the first star of the night shone faintly, and by the time the sky was dark and twinkling, a familiar town came into view at the edge of the forest. All the houses in their quiet rows had lights on. Unlike the seaside, the forest air seemed heavy with the nighttime dew. And the most comforting thing of all were the bells that still gleamed dully at the tops of the tall trees.

  Kiki aimed directly for her house on the eastern end of town and stopped to hover over the roof.

  “Oh, smells like bean soup!” said Jiji.

  “Right? I had a feeling she would make that—since it’s our favorite.”

  Kiki and Jiji took some deep breaths of the homey scent, and then they landed softly in the garden. They crept quietly over to the door and gently knocked.

  “Come on in!” It was Kokiri’s voice. “Sorry, my hands are full at the moment.”

  Kiki and Jiji looked at each other and nodded mischievously. Kiki cracked the door and said in a low, manly voice, “Hello? Delivery, ma’am!”

  Kokiri whirled around to look from the kitchen, and Kiki pushed the door wide open.

  “Oh, Kiki! It’s you! I thought for sure you wouldn’t be here until dawn at the earliest.” She gestured to Kiki with a hand holding a dripping ladle.

  “But it’s just like you said, Mom! You were sure I would come home after exactly a year.”

  “That’s right.”

  Kiki left her bags and the broom by the door and ran to her mother.

  “Well, well, well,” Kokiri repeated, putting her hands on Kiki’s shoulders. And every time she said it, Kiki nodded.

  Okino came out of the next room and stood back, watching the gleeful reunion with a smile. After a little while, he finally entered the conversation, joking, “I sure hope you didn’t forget about me.”

  “Oh, Dad! I’m home!” Kiki threw her arms around his neck.

  After the rush of happy squealing and fussing came the chatting. Kokiri said something, then Kiki, while Okino and Jiji simply watched in astonishment. Could that many words really fit inside the two of them?

  Kiki brought out the bread from Osono and showed them the belly bands she had knitted.

  “Wow, you learned how to do this? Amazing!” Kokiri put the belly band on beneath her clothes right away and patted her stomach.

  “Mom, I’m pretty sure that lady puts her own mysterious powers into the belly bands when she knits them.”

  “Lots of older people seem to have powers like that,” Okino said, looking at the belly band in his hand.

  Just then, as if he had been waiting for the right time, Jiji stretched up and peeked out from the other side of the table. Then he gently dropped a light purple shell out of his mouth in front of Kokiri.

  “Oh, you brought me a souvenir, too?” Kokiri asked in surprise.

  “What? Jiji, you kept it a secret?” Kiki yelped, even more surprised.

  He whispered in her ear, “I picked it up last summer when we went to the beach. A good secret makes things three times as nice, right?”

  And it truly was three times as nice. Kokiri set it on her palm, turned it over and over, and leaned in for a closer look. “This is a shell, right? Is this the color of the sea?” she asked.

  “Yes, it looks just like the color of the sea at dawn,” Kiki answered.

  Then Kokiri turned to look sentimentally at Kiki and Jiji and said, “You’ve both come so far. Just the other day you were babies, and now look at you, all grown up….”

  Hearing her mother say that, Kiki felt her heart quietly fill with pride. Kokiri answered the question Kiki had desperately wanted to ask. And it was then that Kiki realized: Kokiri was the person she wanted to ask most of all.

  “Mom, I’ve been thinking that witches shouldn’t always rely on their brooms. Of course, with my new business I’m usually delivering things in a hurry, so I need to fly. But sometimes it’s good to walk. When you walk, you end up talking to all sorts of different people even if you don’t even want to, you know? I met Osono because I was walking. If I had flown to distract myself from how sad I was, who knows how I would have ended up? And when people see a witch up close, they realize that we don’t all have pointy noses and gaping mouths. We can discuss things and maybe come to understand each other.”

  “Yes, you’re exactly right.” Kokiri nodded, impressed. Okino looked at Kiki with wonder-filled eyes, as if he was seeing his daughter for the first time.

  Starting the next day, Kiki lived just as she did when she was a kid.

  “Those old habits come right back, huh?” Kokiri laughed. “Well, that’s fine. It’s one year versus thirteen, after all.”

  Kiki drank tea out of her favorite teacup and primped to her heart’s content in front of the mirror. At night, she slept hugging the same flower-patterned comforter she had been using since she was a baby. And every morning, she didn’t wake up until her eyes opened naturally.

  Whenever she had time, she walked around town. Everyone wanted to be the first to greet her.

  “Oh, Kiki, you’re back?”

  “Oh, Kiki, look how pretty you’ve gotten!”

  “Oh, Kiki, been a while. Come by for a chat!”

  Kiki was so happy to have people who cared about her. You really can’t beat home.

  But after five days of this, Kiki found herself thinking about Koriko.

  Osono’s laughter, freshly baked bread, this neighbor and that neighbor who would talk to her through her open window, the tree-lined path along the big river, the smell of the sea, the tall clock tower, the smile of her friend Mimi—she missed every little thing. And Tombo. The sight of him on that bridge, waving for all he was worth, stayed in some corner of her heart, pulling her back to Koriko. She knew they would have lots to talk about the next time she saw him.

  And what about her shop? The phone could be ringing right now! So many things were on her mind that even though she was home, she felt like she was just stopping by and couldn’t quite relax. She had only lived in Koriko for a year—this longing to return was strange and unexpected, even for her.

  Finally, she said, “I think I’m going to go back to Koriko, tomorrow or the day after.”

  “Oh? I thought you were staying for ten days.” Okino looked at her in surprise. “Is life here boring now?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not that. But there might be customers waiting for me. My phone might be ringing—”

  “If you start to worry about things like tha
t, there’s no end to it. When you’re here, you’re here.”

  “But…” She started to say something but stopped. Kokiri and Okino had waited a whole year to see her. Perhaps it wasn’t fair of her to say she was leaving early.

  Then Kokiri, who had been silent next to her, spoke. “It might be better for you to go back. When I was young and traveled home from this town, I remember the bizarrely strong pull to return. If you weren’t anxious about what was going on in Koriko, that would be its own problem. But, Kiki, please come back next year.”

  * * *

  The next day, Kiki and Jiji flew east to Mount Green. Sitting on the slope overlooking the town, they took in all they could see.

  “Jiji, I’ve decided to go back. That’s okay, right?”

  He was teasing the bugs in the grass with his front paws. “Sure. Although you’ll have to pack up right after you unpacked.”

  “I already thought about what to get for souvenirs.”

  “Are they secrets this time, too?”

  “No. For Osono I’m bringing some of Mom’s medicine. I think sneeze medicine will be great for the baby. I wasn’t sure what to do for Tombo, but then I thought, what if I gave him one of the bells from the treetops—the ones Mom hung? If I took the biggest one and polished it up, I bet it would shine. And, it’s a piece of my childhood.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. It’s a thousand times more thoughtful than a fountain pen.” Jiji nodded.

  “Oh, Jiji!” Kiki laughed. “The bell has a pretty sound, so I’m not going to include a poem. I don’t know what I would write, anyhow.”

  The smell of grass rose from the ground beneath her feet. The moos of cows, both high and low, drifted over on the soft breeze. When she lay down and closed her eyes, the light of the sun became green polka dots that moved around under her eyelids as if they were swimming.

  How wonderful it is to have a place to return to.

  Coming home, she had discovered a new version of herself.

  When Kiki got back to the house, Kokiri chuckled and said, “Did you go to Mount Green?”

  “You can tell?” Kiki asked.

  “Yes, you still have very clear grass lines on your face!”

  That afternoon, Kiki went with Kokiri and took down all the bells that hung from the town’s trees.

  “This past year, every time the wind rang these bells, I thought of you.” Kokiri smiled tearfully, her feelings complicated.

  “It’s sad to think I don’t need them anymore,” Kiki murmured.

  Kokiri replied, “I’ll put them away and take good care of them until you do again.”

  “Huh?”

  Kokiri winked knowingly. “For your daughter. I’m sure she’ll be a little handful, just like someone I know was.” She laughed.

  Kiki chose the biggest bell, polished it up, and wrapped it.

  * * *

  Then she was saying goodbye to Kokiri and Okino once again. This time there was none of the tension of her coming-of-age day.

  “See you,” her parents said, waving with a smile.

  Kiki flew with Jiji straight for Koriko. As she glided, she could hear the bell ringing faintly in the bag hanging from her broom handle. It spurred her to fly even faster.

  Before long, she could see the shining sea, and the town of Koriko appeared with its tall, box-shaped and triangular buildings.

  “Look, it’s our town!” Kiki shouted, and pointed.

  Up ahead, the long shadow of the clock tower in the sinking evening sun stretched across Koriko, slicing it in half.

  Eiko Kadono has published nearly two hundred original works and received many accolades, including but not limited to the Hans Christian Andersen Award and a place on the IBBY Honor List for Kiki’s Delivery Service. She lives in the Kanagawa prefecture of Japan.

  What’s next on

  your reading list?

  Discover your next

  great read!

  Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.

  Sign up now.