Before we leave the house for the backyard, I squat down and find Kricket’s eyes. “Was that normal for Nora?” My eyes drop to the ground, which is wet from muddy boots and trekked in snow. “I mean with her…” My voice drops even lower. “Monthly.”
Kricket shrugs, tapping the side of her face. Her hearing aid squeals when someone turns up the radio in the other room. “Whaddya mean?”
Miss Anna sails past us. She’s helping a couple of the men cook a meal. I hear Miss Lake talking loudly in the other room. Melted sleet is soaking into my good trousers. “I mean is it normal for her to be in that much pain?”
At this, Kricket seems to shrink. Curling in on herself like a tapped slater bug as it armors itself by rolling into a tight ball. Her eyes are wet, and she lets her hair fall in front of her face. It’s getting dirtier and stringier. It makes her look more like a King, and it’s also a very Kite-like thing to do. “It’s normal. Nora was always sufferin’ from pain.” It’s like a blast of fire to my face. A dirty slap. It hurts me in a new way that’s just starting to build over the old. Because of course she was. Her father beat her. There would be no way for Kricket to discern between monthly pain and pain from being battered and broken. I swallow hard. Feeling a familiar darkness sink inside me. A real hatred. But the thought of Kite, her toughness and her hope in the face of evil, pulls me back from the edge of anger.
I feel her pain. I just need to take on her strength as well.
Kricket stares at me with wide eyes. Waiting. I scruff her hair as I would one of the Kings, and she smiles sweetly. “Your sister is pretty incredible.”
She then grins with all her teeth and some extra shine of white that comes from inside. “Dat’s why you should marry her!”
A voice I would rather not hear right in this moment combines with the rusty creak of the back door. Kin shakes snowflakes from his hair as he winks at Kricket. “Who’s getting married?”
I wish there was a crack in the floorboards. I’m pretty lean. With a bit of wiggling, I’m sure I could slip right through. Anything to avoid the coming conversation.
32
KITE
Arms pull me up, and lay me down on a narrow white bed in another room. And I’m filled with relief as I am fussed over and cared for. A nurse strokes my head and says, “The doctor will be in to see you shortly, Miss Deere.” She hands me a couple of pills, which I swallow without hesitation. Anything to ease this pain. She looks at me with sympathy and knowing. As any woman would.
I say softly through cracked lips. “Something’s not right.”
She smiles, dark eyes with an unfolded fan of wrinkles to frame them. Her gray hair neatly curled under a white bonnet. “Well, dear, it’s your body. You know it best. If something’s not right, then something’s not right. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
I could almost cry for thankfulness, for the softness in her voice and her surety. The doctor comes in, head down, staring at notes on a clipboard like they hold the cure. His moustache reminds me of a cheap plastic comb. When he glances up, he frowns at me. “Nora. We haven’t seen you in quite some time.”
I try not to growl as I remember how he set my broken arm. Treated my deeper cuts. All without question. That’s how they get away with it. Don’t ask. Don’t tell. “No, Doctor. Not for a while.” I prop myself up on my elbows to find his eyes. “Not since I turned eighteen and am a legal adult,” I say pointedly, reminding him of his obligation to keep my visit private.
If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He just nods and rakes his eyes over my awkward, rolled-up position. “So, are you having reproductive problems?” I give him a quizzical look, and he points at my stomach. The pills are starting to kick in and I begin to relax, a fuzzy warmth crawling over my body like the sun over a wilting field. “Am I right to assume this is something to do with your menstruation?”
I turn scarlet and nod. The nurse pipes in, “She said it’s not normal for her to be in this much pain, Doctor.”
He gives her a sideways be quiet look, then pats my hand. “All right then, Nora, tell me what doesn’t feel normal and I, your doctor, will tell you if it’s anything to be concerned about.”
I try to leave my embarrassment at the door. I try not to wince when I’m examined. And I try very hard not to panic when he suddenly straightens and leaves the room.
He returns with a large device on a wheeled cart. His face has changed from disinterest to interest.
I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to ask.
No one talks to me. They run an instrument over my stomach, staring intently at grainy images on the screen. They press and prod and make strange noises that sound like disbelief.
I have to ask.
“Doctor, what do you think is wrong?” I ask, staring up at the perforated ceiling tiles. My hands clasped neatly over my chest.
He clears his throat and startles, almost like he forgot there was a person attached to the symptoms.
The nurse’s face has gone from kind sympathy to pity. “Does she need an x-ray?” she asks, her eyes on the screen, which just looks like a mass of spider webs and black spots. I think of the old woman who swallowed a spider, letting out a nervous giggle.
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly. I don’t know why she swallowed the fly. I guess she’ll…
He breathes in deeply, and I wait.
He breathes out loudly through his nose like a displeased bull, and I wait.
What is it? The silence is unbearable. The things I’m concocting in my head are probably far worse than anything he could say. He pats my leg. “No, that won’t be necessary, Nurse. Nora, how about you get dressed? Take your time. Sylvia will bring you to my office to discuss the results of the ultrasound when you’re ready.”
The pain has eased. The bleeding has settled, too. Maybe it was just a painful and heavy monthly. Maybe I’m overreacting. The nurse, Sylvia, helps me up. “Are your periods usually regular?” she asks. “Once every twenty-eight days or so?”
My voice is the patter of rain hitting a hot sidewalk. Promise that evaporates. “No. Not always. Sometimes I can go months without anything. And it’s not usually as painful as this. Is that bad?” I lean forward. My eyes moistening. I’m not an idiot. I can tell there’s something wrong.
She shakes her head a little too vehemently. “No. No. It’s not bad. Do you usually have pain in your abdomen between periods?”
I have had pain almost every day of my life for as long as I can remember. My head sways sorrowfully from side to side, no.
The nurse seems confused. Like she’s searching the rubble for a survivor. A clue. “Have you been in a car accident recently?”
I pull my head from the sand, feeling it run down my back. Hit the paper on the bed and cascade to the floor. “No. I have not. Why would you ask me that?”
She stops then, hands me my clothing and a stack of sanitary products. “I think it best you speak to Doctor Keneally. He will be able to explain things further. Has your pain settled?”
“Yes,” I manage through trembling lips.
“That’s good then.” But her expression says nothing good.
She leaves me alone in this cold room. White and silver and sterile.
I suddenly wish Hiro were here with me. But he’s not. I am alone. And I must face this. Alone.
I pull my coat tight, walking through one door and into another. A curtain opening on the next act of my story.
The man in a white coat sits behind his desk, looking all kinds of sorry. He is now the messenger.
I want to run.
I have to stay.
“Miss Deere…” he begins.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
They are sharp in my mind. Bright faces, dark skin, and blue eyes. A boy and a girl. They play on the fancy rug in our sitting room, paper strewn around in a scattered pattern. Like autumn leaves beneath a maple tree. Crayons held in chubby hands. They look at me with
love. They call me momma. I sweep them into my arms and their warmth is intoxicating. They are made from pure love. They break barriers just by being. They are clear, and they are beautiful. They are part me and part Hiro. They are a dream. They are everything.
* * *
And now, they are nothing.
33
HIRO
Kin is like rain to a battling flower. Petals turning in and sheltering from a harsh climate. And the moment Kricket and he connect, I know there’ll be no breaking their bond. He winks at her and offers a hand, which she takes. “Is this the young lady you’re going to marry?” he asks, teasing and holding her arm up until she’s on her tiptoes. He raises an eyebrow. “She’s terribly short.”
Kricket giggles and swings her skirts, clasping them in her other hand. When Kin releases her, she pokes him in the chest. He wobbles on his haunches. “Yer Kin.”
I appraise my brother. He looks well. Flush to his skin. Pants wet to the knees. Same determined and devilish expression on his face. He pokes her right back. “Hey, I remember you. You’re the suspender snapper!” He works his hands up the wall until he can stand. I offer an arm, but he refuses. “I’ve been looking for you for a while now! I owe you a snap.” He growls, but it’s a toothless bear. More huggable than scary.
Kricket pokes out her tongue and he laughs, deep and short like timpani. I think maybe I’ve escaped the interrogation. Start toward the lounge. My neck is caught by my collar as Kin yanks me backward with impressive strength.
“Whoa, little brother! I asked you a question.” His tone is teasing, but his eyes hold a dark flash of seriousness.
Somehow, Kricket has managed to shuffle over without me noticing and they stand next to each other, giving me disappointed glares. They’ve formed a hunting party, and I’m the quarry. “Yeah-eah,” Kricket sings. “He ask-ed you a question.”
Kin slings his arm over Kricket’s shoulders, clucks his tongue, and addresses her, “What are we going to do with him?”
Shaking her autumn-leaf hair, she replies, “I dunno, Kin. I really dunno.” Enjoying this comradery. The two ganging up on me and peck, peck, pecking like pigeons on a crust of bread.
This took a very sudden turn. I gulp.
Kin limps forward, leading us to a sitting room with armchairs and sofas from every era since furniture existed. He collapses on a lounge with Kricket and points at the grand armchair beside it, swirling and high-backed like a throne. Though I feel anything but royalty right now. “Sit. I think it’s time we had the talk.” He says it with mirth, but there are messages and warning behind it.
“The talk?” I repeat, more nervous than I should be.
Kin nods and Kricket copies him, bobbing her head like she’s sitting in the jury of my love life. “Yes. The talk. The talk about how you don’t think you deserve to be happy. How you love that girl, and it’s time you damn well did something about it!”
Oh, that talk.
I place my hands on my knees and brace myself as two of the dearest people to my heart, save the one they’re operating on behalf of, rip me to shreds.
Kin reaches over, nearly falls from his seat, and slaps my thigh hard. “What the h-e-l-l are you doing, man?”
Kricket leans over and smacks my leg, too, then crosses her arms. “Yeah, what the hell, man?” We both raise an eyebrow, and she scowls. “Jest coz I’ve got hearin’ problems doesn’t mean I cain’t spell.” She rolls her eyes.
Kin laughs, clapping his hands together. “Oh, I like her. I like her very much!”
She blushes rose pink, crossing her feet at the ankles. She’s trying to look demure, but the intense glare is ruining the effect.
They both stare silently as I gather myself. As I try to brush my thoughts into a single pile I can sort through.
Kin blows out a frustrated sigh. “What’s stopping you? Is it that you think she’ll say no?”
I smile, remembering her kneeling, looking up at me with earnest eyes the color of burnt butter. Her words. I love you, Hiro. “Considering she’s already asked me to marry her twice, I doubt it.”
Kin growls low and irritated. “Twice?” Then he holds up two fingers. “Twice!” His head falls in his hands as he mumbles, “Oh, this is worse than I thought.” I know he’s struggling to understand. Because even if he didn’t love her, he would have said yes. It’s a ticket out, and he’s wondering how on earth I could be so stupid. “Let me guess, Kettle, you said no because it’s not the way.” There’s no use arguing with him. He knows me too well. “And then you said no again because you’re worried about how it looks coz she’s rich and you’re, well…” He points at me, finger hanging in the air for too long. A kite that’s losing the wind.
“A King,” I say with some of the usual pride sucked out of it.
Kin shakes his head. “No, Kettle. You need to face the music. You’re a street kid. You’re a half-Japanese, half-white street kid with a dangerous, s-h-i-t job and a mob of other street kids you’ve pledged to look after.” He runs a hand through his lengthening hair. “You do everything for everyone, yet never get anything out of it.”
I look up at the ceiling, peeling wall paper curls around a chandelier that’s missing half its crystals. It hangs at a loose angle. It makes me want to stand on a table to even up the remaining crystals so it sits square. “You hit the nail on the head there, brother.”
He makes such a loud, frustrated groan that some of the other men jump and turn our way. He drags a hand down his face, pulling his skin so his eye sockets show red. “You’re just not getting it, are you?”
“That I’m not good enough? Yeah, I hear you loud and clear, Kin.” I stand to leave, and Kin bangs his cane loudly on the floor. I pause. Anger radiates from his body.
“I wish I could punch some sense into you.” His hands fist. “But you’d probably take it on the chin and then tell me you forgive me, right? Everyone’s got it worse than you, right?” His teeth clench together on the ‘t’.
I nod, confused. “Right.”
Kricket glances between the two of us, concerned. Her little legs jiggling against the sofa base, scuffing already scuffed tea roses and winding thorns. “No! Not right! You have done so much for all of us. I wouldn’t have survived without you. The Kings would probably all be dead or worse. We owe you everything. We are grateful, and we know we can never really pay you back.”
Hands up, I gesture to the ceiling. “I never expected you to pay me back.”
“Ugh! I know. But now we expect something from you. You owe us something.”
I sit back down in the chair. It’s too much. The way he talks like I’m some big hero. Like everyone’s waiting for me to do something. I don’t like the attention. I don’t want it. “What’s that?” I ask shakily. “What do I owe you?”
Kin leans over and I think he’s going to slap me again, but he just grabs my arm and squeezes. “This is your reward, Kettle. And you owe it to us to take your goddamned reward. This amazing thing has happened to you. You fell in love, and your love is returned. You can’t let her background hold you back. You think it’s a negative thing that’s she’s rich and white, but you’re the only one who thinks so. You owe it to all of us, to every kid you saved and every one you’ve lost, to take the good thing in front of you and hold onto it. Screw what other people think. You have so many of us standing behind you, ready to back you up. A whole damn kingdom, in fact. And now, we’re just waiting for you to catch up, and we’ll be ready.” His voice strains because he’s trying so hard to get through to me.
“Take my reward,” I repeat.
He nods. “I have to believe, after everything you have been through, that this is exactly what you deserve. A woman who loves you, a home, and a life free from fear and poverty.”
I want to believe him so badly. I want to let his words sprout wings and carry me forward. Kricket stands and bounds toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Your brother is funny,” she whispers.
“Yes, he is.
But do you think he’s right?” I whisper, feeling my heart turn in my chest. Turn in, not away. It’s opening to the possibility that maybe I can have what I want. That maybe it will be a fight, but it will be a fight worth having if Kite is by my side.
She nods. “I tink he’s right.”
Kin chuckles. “See, the kid gets it!” Kricket settles in my lap, and I find my brother’s eyes. He’s smiling, but his eyes speak of truth. “Do you get it, little brother?”
I half smile. “I think I’m starting to.”
Kin’s grin is contagious. Soon, we’re all smiling wide. “And hey, if the side effect of all this altruistic behavior gets me out of here and into a lovely brownstone, then that’s just the icing on the cake!”
Then I reach out and smack him. Which earns me a sharp scolding from Miss Lake about her feelings on people who think it’s okay to abuse invalids.
Kin pulls faces at me the entire time from behind her back. “C’mon, bowling ball, I did hit him first.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Kin asks, eyebrows jiggling. He is the embodiment of coercion. But somehow, he managed to blow a hole through the steel doors inside my chest. He’s right. I can do this. I deserve this. I wipe my hands on my pants.
“I guess I’m going to ask Kite to marry me?” I say with very little conviction, and Kin notices.
“C’mon. You’re Kettle. You’re a King. You’ve flown over the ocean. You lived through a war. You’ve broken out of a prison and never been captured. Compared to that, this should be a cake walk.” He slaps me on the back, and pats Kricket’s head. “You’ll help him, won’t you, kid? When it comes to romance, I think I got the lion’s share of skill.” He runs a hand over his jaw. “Got the lion’s share in the looks department, too. But hey, he’s gotta work with what God gave him.” These quips are flying over her head and getting caught in her hair. Things I’ll have to explain to her later. She tips her head, hanging on every ridiculous word. “My point is, my poor brother here might need some tips on how to woo your sister.”
Hiro Loves Kite Page 13
