Girl Giant and the Monkey King

by Van Hoang

  “Good points?”

  “Maybe the Jade Emperor rewarded him. A chance at immortality, at becoming a fairy, living in the heavens. But who would want that?” He made a face and stuck his tongue out a few times like he’d bitten something bitter.

  “You did,” Thom pointed out.

  “When I was no more than a baby. But I learned the hard way that life in the heavens is worse than life in the hells.”

  “You’ve been to the hells?”

  “Just for a short stint.”

  She frowned. “What were you doing in the hells?”

  “Rescuing some friends.”

  “But … how did you get in? Or out?”

  “I am the invincible, handsome Monkey King, remember? I still had my cudgel with me then.”

  “Can you get it back?”

  “Me? I’m not allowed in the heavens anymore.” His voice was almost sad. Then he giggled and flipped backward so fast he became a blur and disappeared.

  The ball dropped onto her bed. She looked in the direction he’d gone.

  “You could get into the heavens, though,” he said as his body re-formed above her.

  “I can’t do that. I’m mortal.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She zipped her gym bag. “What does that mean?”

  “Concao said that you’re not … completely mortal.”

  So that’s what the fox demon had whispered in the Monkey King’s ear.

  “You’re something else,” he said.

  “Something else?”

  A breeze next to her, a weight on the mattress. “She said you might even be … part god.”

  Thom shook her head. “No, that’s stupid. I’m not.”

  “It would explain your incredible strength,” he said. “There’s only one I know as strong as you are. And he’s a god.”

  The Boy Giant. Maybe she could meet him. Ask him about his strength, how he lived with it.

  “You can do it,” the Monkey King said. “Get into the heavens. Learn about your true self. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  Thom turned to face him. But he was gone.

  * * *

  Thom’s team won the next game, but without her of course, so when Coach treated the girls to dinner at a famous barbecue restaurant, she wanted to call Ma to pick her up as soon as possible.

  “Nonsense, No,” Coach said when Thom asked if she could go home early. “You’re part of the team. You need to celebrate with us.”

  Finding a seat among the other soccer players was more stressful than being in the cafeteria at lunchtime. None of the girls looked at her; they only huddled closer, spoke louder, and pretended she didn’t exist. The only ones who did acknowledge her were Bethany and Sarah, but their glares weren’t at all inviting. Kathy also made eye contact, but she inclined her head slightly to the right, as if to tell Thom to get lost. Or maybe it was a warning. Thom couldn’t tell.

  She sat with the coaches instead. Coach Pendergrass dug into her food while Martha recounted the highlights of the game. Thom was pretty sure she ate, but later she couldn’t remember what the food tasted like, and she was more than grateful when they packed up and headed back to the school. She’d texted Ma that she was on the way, but even so, she found herself as one of the last ones to be picked up. Everyone else was gone but Kathy.

  After away games, which usually ran a little later, Coach waited until the last girl was gone, but tonight she had an emergency and left Martha with them instead. They stood outside at the school pick-up area, shivering. The wind had picked up, cold and sweeping, and the moon was hidden behind thick clouds, the streetlamps barely lighting up the dark parking lot. A strong gust of wind almost knocked Thom over; she managed to stop steps before stumbling against Kathy.

  Martha guffawed. “We might have to put rocks in your pockets, No!”

  Thom, who’d always been smaller than most kids her age, was used to people telling her that, but Martha kept laughing like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said. Kathy rolled her eyes.

  “Ooh, this weather’s chilly,” Martha said. “I’ll be right back, girls. I’m just going to run and get a thicker jacket right quick.”

  Thom stood closer to a streetlamp, bracing one hand on it in case another gust hit. To her surprise, Kathy followed, looking cozy inside her thick fur-trimmed coat, which she’d draped over her soccer uniform. Somehow, this managed to make Thom feel frumpy in the hoodie and school-issued sweats she’d put on over her own jersey.

  Kathy surprised Thom even more when she spoke to Thom voluntarily. “Sorry you didn’t get to play today.”

  “Oh. I mean…” Thom coughed. “I never get to play? But … thanks.” Her ears burned, and she gripped the lamppost harder, wishing it were big enough to shield her from any other awkward thing that came out of her mouth. “I mean thanks for saying that.”

  “You must really like soccer if you’re still willing to stick around after being benched and everything.” Kathy flipped her hair over her shoulder, somehow managing to keep it from whipping into her face in the wind.

  “I did. At my old school, I was pretty good.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  Ouch. But Thom couldn’t defend herself without spilling everything she’d worked so hard to keep secret. “I tried to quit, but Ma says I have to finish out the season.”

  Kathy nodded. “My parents won’t let me quit, either.”

  The sound of metal grinding caught their attention, but it was just a nearby pole rocking slightly from the wind. Thom couldn’t talk for a bit when her hair blew into her face. Kathy handed Thom a scrunchie, and memories—a hundred of them—slammed her all at once, of all the times Thuy and her old teammates had done the same thing.

  “Why do you want to quit?” Thom finally asked. “You don’t like it?”

  “I don’t know. I only joined because Bethany talked me into it, and like, my parents have this thing where I have to keep busy all the time. It was either this or piano lessons, which ugh.” Kathy rolled her eyes. “It’s like just because I’m Asian I have to play the piano, you know?”

  “My mom never made me play the piano.” But Thuy’s did, and her ex–best friend used to complain about it, too.

  “You’re lucky.”

  Thom could only stare at her.

  Kathy exhaled. “Yeah, so now I’m stuck with soccer.”

  “Would you choose piano instead now if your parents let you?”

  “Ugh, no. That’s such a cliché. If I was going to play an instrument, it’d be something that’s actually cool, like the drums or the guitar or something. They’re really mad, though, because they bought the piano but no one uses it, so now it’s just in our house.”

  “Yeah. My best friend”—Thom left out the ex part—“had a choice between piano or violin.”

  “That’s even worse—violins are so depressing.”

  “I like them.”

  Kathy gave her an assessing look that Thom couldn’t dissect. “If you didn’t play soccer, what would you do instead?”

  “Ma would probably find me an SAT tutor. They offered pre-high-school sessions back where I used to live, but they don’t have anything like that here. Thank goodness.”

  “Right? It’s like we’re not even in high school yet and they already want us to prepare for college. I don’t get it. Bethany’s and Sarah’s parents don’t do stuff like that. They’re so lucky.”

  Was she really bonding with Kathy? Over the exhausting pressure of having Asian parents? She had never really thought about how strict Ma was before. Compared to her friends’ parents, Ma had always seemed like the more lenient one, except for certain things—always having the dishes done and a clean room and an organized bookshelf—but that was a Ma thing, not an Asian parents thing. She huddled closer to the lamppost. “I know, right?” was all she could think of to say.

  “Maybe—”

  But Kathy didn’t get to finish, because a strong gust shoved T
hom forward. She grabbed the lamppost, but instead of steadying her, the metal bent under her hand. The pole pitched sideways, electric sparks exploding. The light went out as the lamppost fell toward Kathy’s head.

  Thom grabbed it and pulled it upright before it landed.

  “Oh my God.” Kathy’s eyes widened, going from Thom’s face to her hands on the pole. “I knew it.”

  Thom didn’t know what to do. She followed Kathy’s gaze to her hands, then let go. The lamppost swayed once more, then slammed to the ground with the noise of a thunderclap. Thom and Kathy stood on either side of the fallen pole.

  “Oh my God,” Kathy muttered again.

  Martha ran outside, screaming, “What was that? Good Lord, are you girls okay? Get back, get back!”

  A car pulled up that Thom didn’t recognize, but she figured it was Kathy’s parents, coming to pick her up.

  Then Ma arrived. She leaned over to shout out the passenger-side window as she drove up.

  “Thom, I’m sorry I’m late. There was car accident, and—”

  “Ma, look out!”

  She slammed on the brakes. Her car stopped an inch from the other car.

  Kathy bolted toward the first car. Thom called out to her—to explain, to make an excuse, to lie—but Kathy slammed the car door, and the car drove off.

  Thom couldn’t move. Martha was still flittering about, apologizing, and Ma was trying to get Thom’s attention, but all Thom could see were the taillights of Kathy’s car, the red lights blinding her vision. That was it. It was all over. She’d worked so hard to hide her secret, and all for nothing.

  Her life was finished.

  22

  THOM WENT UP TO HER room, giving short answers when Ma kept trying to explain why she had been late. She offered to bring Thom something to drink, but Thom could not think about food at a time like this. Her mouth felt like she’d tried to eat chalk. Her skin was tingly and numb all along the back of her neck.

  She couldn’t stop picturing Kathy’s reaction: the shock, the wide eyes, the dropped jaw, the fingers flexed like she was reaching for help, like Thom might hurt her.

  If Kathy hadn’t known before, she definitely knew Thom’s secret now.

  How long would it be before she told Bethany and Sarah? Because of course she would tell, they were her BFFs. And then the team would know—they already thought she was weird. Then the school. Then the world.

  What was Thom supposed to do now? She couldn’t go back to school, couldn’t face Kathy and the others. It would be easy for them to prove how much of a freak she was—she could barely control her strength now, even after all the coaching from the Monkey King.

  Why was she like this? Why her?

  She had to get rid of her strength. Then they wouldn’t be able to prove anything. Then no matter what Kathy said or who found out, Thom could show them that she was normal.

  But how?

  She needed the Monkey King.

  While she sat waiting for him, her leg jiggling, something clicked. She knew what she needed to do. Warmth rushed back into her veins as she came up with a plan.

  * * *

  When he finally popped into view, sitting on the windowsill, swinging his legs, she stood up and rushed to him.

  “What could you do if you got your cudgel back?”

  In legends, the Monkey King was unstoppable with his cudgel, so powerful even the immortals hadn’t been able to defeat him. He could fix this. He was the only one who understood her power, who had known how to help her. The fox demon had said that the Monkey King could get Thom what she wanted. All she had to do was make a deal.

  “All sorts of things,” he said. His eyelashes fluttered. “Why? Have you an enemy you want me to obliterate? Those girls at the school—the ones who always trip you? Just tell me, and I’ll—” He punched a fist into his other palm.

  “No—not that. Can you … Would you be able to get rid of my strength?”

  For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed surprised. “Why?”

  “Because I hate it.”

  “But you’re learning to control it. I’m training you to be a fighter. A warrior.” When she didn’t respond, he studied her face. “Your power is a part of you—”

  “No, it’s not.” She cut off whatever else he was going to say—something just to make her feel better about what she was. She was sick of it, of adapting, of compromising. She would change things, control something for once. “I hate being like this. I want you to make it go away. If you had your cudgel back, would you do it?”

  He studied her face like he was scanning a book. “If I had my cudgel,” he said, “there is not much I cannot do.”

  “But would you? Would you take my power away?”

  He nodded, looking serious. But not for long. His contagious grin spread. “Of course. But how can I when I don’t have my cudgel?”

  “You said it was in the heavens.” He would do it, take her power, fix everything, just like she knew he could. She almost hugged him. “What if I sneak in and get it for you?”

  He bounced in front of her like he was on an invisible trampoline. “Yes! You can sneak in, find it, bring it back to me.”

  Thom felt a lightness she hadn’t felt in a long time, like she was the one who could fly. “Okay. So how do I get into the heavens?”

  He giggled and bounced high, then higher, until he floated and circled her head. He grabbed her hands and pulled her up, her legs leaving the ground. They swung through the air in a wide dance.

  “I will take you,” he said.

  “But you said you can’t get in.”

  “To the Gate. I’ll show you how to get through and where to find the staff.”

  Her body felt weightless. The Monkey King’s hands gripped hers tightly, securely.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Tonight. Now.”

  “Now?” Too soon. She thought she’d have time to plan and prepare.

  “You want your power gone, don’t you?” He stopped spinning and lowered her back down.

  “But what about school? Ma—”

  “You will be in and out quickly. No one will notice. But…”

  “But what? Tell me. I need to know everything that could go wrong if I’m going to do this.”

  “If you stay in the heavens too long,” the Monkey King said, his fingers lacing and unlacing, “you may get stuck there.”

  “Get stuck there?” Thom’s voice came out squeaky. “How long?”

  He hid his hands behind his back. “Forever.”

  Thom tried to gulp, but a lump stayed stuck in her throat. “So I would die. Basically.”

  The Monkey King scratched his armpit, pulled out a hair, and held it up to his face. “You have a few days at least before that happens.”

  “A few days … Like one or two or what?”

  He stuck the hair into his other armpit. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? What if I can’t come back? Ma would go crazy!”

  “I don’t know because I don’t know how mortal you are. A full mortal would only have one day at the most, but you are not—”

  “Not normal.” Thom was starting to freak out. He was right, though; she must not be full mortal. How else could she explain her strength? But that didn’t mean she could just stay in the heavens or come and go as she pleased. If the heavens knew, if the gods caught her, if she stayed too long by accident, then what?

  “Don’t worry.” The Monkey King touched her cheek, the pads of his palms rough compared to his fur. “They won’t catch you. I will teach you exactly what to do.”

  “What happens if they do catch me, though?”

  “They won’t. Come on.” He opened her closet and riffled through her things. “Change into something warm but stealthy.”

  “Stealthy?”

  “Yes. You will need to be quick, invisible. Because, Thom-Thom, you are about to become a thief.”

  * * *

  Someone wa
s following them. She’d thought she was imagining it at first, but she and the Monkey King were flying above the clouds, and the flicker of a large blue-feathered tail was not something she could have made up twice.

  The tail itself was white, but covered in pearly scales that shimmered. The feathers cascaded down the top, a cerulean blue, the kind her mom would have chosen if áo dài came in that color, and if Thom were milky-complexioned enough to pull it off.

  “Wukong!” she shouted over the wind. “Someone is following us!”

  His ears twitched, and he looked to the side. He nodded.

  He went faster, flying up, then down, diving into the white sea of mist.

  A shadow moved in the cloud, a huge shape, long and serpentine.

  The Monkey King charged toward it.

  A dragon—a rồng—emerged. Its face was furry, its whiskers blue. Scales grew from the top of its head and trailed down to its tail. Thom didn’t get a good look at its eyes, because just then the Monkey King thumped the dragon hard on the nose.

  The dragon’s head dropped, and it dipped several feet. Its tail lashed out, but the Monkey King dodged, shrieking with laughter.

  “Begone, dragon! Or I will pummel you into dust.”

  “I’m not here for you.” The dragon spoke, but its voice belonged to Kha.

  Thom almost lost her grip on the Monkey King’s shoulders. “Kha! What—”

  “Go home, dragon,” the Monkey King said, gripping Thom around her knees to keep her from sliding off.

  “Not without Thom.”

  “She’s with me now.”

  “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  Annoyance pricked Thom’s throat. “I know what I’m doing!” she said.

  “He’s tricked you,” the dragon said. “Like he tricks everyone.”

  “This is my idea.”

  The dragon—Kha—shook his head. “Come with me, Thom. I’ll explain everything.” He turned so his back was close enough that she could climb on.