Flying the Dragon

by Natalie Dias Lorenzi

  Before, this grandfather had been some distant relative she didn’t know. Then he was someone who was coming here to ruin her chance to play on the All-Star team. Now he was Grandfather, who was gentle and didn’t seem to mind her rusty Japanese. Grandfather, who could fly a kite, and trusted her to fly one, too. Who had taken a brush and some paint and turned a kite into a dragon.

  Hiroshi and Grandfather walked Skye home. When they got to her door, her dad was sitting on the porch.

  “It looks as if you have a natural flier here, my son.”

  Skye’s dad smiled. “I should have taught her years ago.”

  Skye wondered why he hadn’t. “Grandfather showed me the reel that you carved.”

  “The reel?” Skye’s dad stood.

  Hiroshi held it out. “Grandfather told us you carved this.”

  Skye’s dad took the reel in both hands. He looked at Grandfather, eyes bright. “You’ve kept this?”

  Grandfather nodded. “Of course. It is the only reel I ever use.” Skye’s dad nodded and gently handed the reel back to Hiroshi. Grandfather put his hand on Hiroshi’s shoulder. “We should be going now. We will talk tomorrow.” Skye felt a pang of envy. Hiroshi was lucky that Grandfather lived with his family.

  “Thank you, Hiroshi. Thank you, Grandfather. I had a great time.” Grandfather smiled, but Hiroshi only nodded. He looked as worried as Skye felt. As they walked away, Skye stood with her dad’s arm around her shoulders. “I hope this treatment works.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Me, too.”

  It had to work. Skye had just found Grandfather, and she wasn’t about to let him go.

  16

  Hiroshi

  Hiroshi slid the spelling test under his notebook before anyone could see the D at the top. He’d spelled pear, pair, and pare right, but he’d mixed up the meanings. Same thing with to, too, and two. He couldn’t remember the differences among them. He’d studied, even if Mr. Jacobs probably didn’t think so. But with Grandfather’s first treatment yesterday, homophones—or was it homographs? Homonyms? Whatever they were, they’d been the last thing on Hiroshi’s mind. Why did English have to be so confusing?

  “Hiroshi, may I see you, please?” Mr. Jacobs was at his desk while the others worked on the new list of words. Maybe Hiroshi was in trouble because he hadn’t started the assignment yet.

  Ravi flashed Hiroshi an encouraging smile. But he hadn’t seen Hiroshi’s spelling grade.

  Hiroshi reached Mr. Jacob’s desk. Pointing at the grade book, Mr. Jacobs shook his head. Hiroshi looked at the row of letters next to his name: A, A, A, C, C, D.

  “Hiroshi, what is happening?” Hiroshi looked away from those letters that spelled failure. Mr. Jacobs went on. “You asked for more of a challenge.” Hiroshi nodded, remembering how easy the first two spelling lists were. When he had asked for harder words, Mr. Jacobs had seemed hesitant. But when Hiroshi had earned another A, Mr. Jacobs had seemed pleased. Then came the two C’s, and now the D.

  “Would you like easier words, Hiroshi? I don’t want to push you too fast.” Hiroshi did not remember Mr. Jacobs pushing him. Except for high fives, Mr. Jacobs had never laid his hands on any students. Did American teachers push students who got bad grades?

  Hiroshi glanced at the letters again. He hadn’t been studying as much as he should have lately. But he would change that. “I want harder words. I can do it.”

  Mr. Jacobs frowned. “How can I help, Hiroshi?” American teachers were strange—first Mr. Jacobs threatened to push him, and now he was offering to help. But Mr. Jacobs couldn’t help. Not unless he could make Grandfather better.

  “I will study more, Teacher.”

  Mr. Jacobs sighed. “Okay, Hiroshi. We’ll try once more. But if your grades don’t improve, I’ll have to give you the same list as the other students.”

  Hiroshi nodded. He would try harder. Mr. Jacobs had said to write the words and their definitions three times each. Three times was not enough. He would write them twenty times each. He wanted to learn English; it was just taking so long.

  No wonder America and Japan were on opposite sides of the world; English and Japanese were opposites, too.

  “Grandfather! You’re awake!” Hiroshi had raced all the way home from the bus stop.

  “Yes, it was about time I got out of that room.” After two days on his futon, Grandfather finally seemed back to normal. He looked a little tired around the eyes, but Hiroshi knew Grandfather would feel better with a kite string in his hands.

  Hiroshi grinned and dropped his backpack at the foot of the steps. “Let’s go to the park!”

  “Hiro-chan, is that you?” Mother came into the front hall and eyed his backpack. He knew what she was about to say, but now wasn’t the time for homework; it was time for flying kites.

  “Grandfather and I are going to the park. We’ll be back soon.” He started up the stairs to get the kite from his room.

  “Homework must be done first, Hiroshi.”

  “But Grandfather is finally feeling better! We have to go right away.”

  Grandfather chuckled. “I am not going to disappear, Hiroshi. I will drink some tea with your mother while you do your work, and then we will go.”

  Hiroshi knew there was no use arguing with Mother, especially with Grandfather on her side. He ran back down the stairs, grabbed his backpack, and raced up to his room. He pulled out his spelling test. Why had he asked Mr. Jacobs for harder words? Now he had to write the words and the definitions, when the other kids only had to write the words. That was because he had insisted on tackling those stupid words that all sounded alike.

  He wrote the first word and its definition three times, then glanced at the clock on his desk. Writing everything twenty times each would take too long; he’d get to it later. He copied the rest of the words and definitions three times each, and slipped the paper back into his notebook. He lifted the dragon kite from the hook on his wall, then flew down the stairs.

  “Ready!” he called. Grandfather already had his jacket on and was sitting in the front room. He rose when he saw Hiroshi, but he moved as if his muscles were stiff. “Are you okay, Grandfather?”

  Grandfather nodded. “I am ready to fly that kite.”

  Hiroshi wanted to run all the way to the park, but he had to slow his pace to match Grandfather’s. It felt like they were wading in Tachibana Bay back home.

  When they finally reached the park entrance, Hiroshi’s heart thudded. There, at the top of the hill, stood Skye. When she saw them, her face brightened and she waved.

  “There she is,” Grandfather said. “I hope she hasn’t been waiting long.”

  Hiroshi stopped. “You knew she’d be here?”

  Grandfather stopped, too. “Of course. I invited her to join us. Didn’t I tell you?”

  No, as a matter of fact you didn’t, thought Hiroshi. But he could never speak that way to Grandfather. Instead he mumbled, “I must have forgotten.”

  When Skye was around, everything was different. He and Grandfather didn’t talk about the same things. Flying the dragon kite felt like work, not joy. Hiroshi was sure even the dragon didn’t want Skye around; that’s why it had dipped last time when she’d held the line. She probably would have crashed it if it hadn’t been for Grandfather.

  “Hiro-chan, are you feeling all right?” Grandfather looked concerned.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Now Hiroshi felt guilty for worrying him. He fell into step next to Grandfather. “It’s just that—well, I don’t know.” How can I tell Grandfather I want it to be just the two of us

  again? “It’s just that sometimes you and I—we can’t talk about the same things with Skye around.” Grandfather frowned, but Hiroshi continued. “I mean, she doesn’t know any of the people or places we know in Japan, so it might be rude to talk about them in front of her. She might feel left out.” There. That sounded unselfish enough, didn’t it?

  Grandfather put his hand on Hiroshi’s shoulder. “You know, Hiroshi, you are ri
ght.” Hiroshi looked down to hide his smile. Now Grandfather would think of a polite way to cut today’s flying session short. Maybe Skye would go home early, and he and Grandfather would stay a little later. “Sorano-chan—I hope you have not been waiting long.”

  “Hello, Grandfather. Hi, Hiroshi. No, in fact I just finished my homework.” She pointed to her backpack resting on the bench. “I wasn’t sure when you’d get here, so I brought my homework with me and did it here. I just finished.”

  “What an industrious girl you are, Sorano.”

  Looking at Skye, Hiroshi knew she hadn’t understood industrious in Japanese. Maybe he would tell her later. Or maybe not. But Skye must have understood that Grandfather was pleased to see her, because now she was beaming.

  “Are you ready for another flying lesson?” Grandfather asked.

  “Yes!” Skye looked as if she couldn’t wait to get her hands on the dragon.

  Grandfather rubbed his hands together. “Wonderful!” He turned to Hiroshi. “What shall you show her today, Hiroshi?”

  How about the way home? But Hiroshi knew he couldn’t say that. Instead he shrugged. “The launch?”

  A clap from Grandfather. “Perfect! Hiroshi is an expert at launching, Sorano. You can learn a great deal from him if you wish.” Grandfather’s words filled Hiroshi’s chest. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad teaching Skye a thing or two. Just as long as it didn’t get to be a habit.

  “Are you ready?” Hiroshi eyed Skye. She nodded, her eyes shining with excitement.

  Hiroshi studied the clouds that crept across the sky. “There is some wind up there, but not much. On days like this, it’s better to have another person to help with the launch.”

  “Okay—just tell me what I need to do.”

  He handed the dragon kite to Skye. “Hold it by the frame and point it toward the sky, like this.” He angled the kite upward. “Now face into the wind.”

  Skye turned slightly. The breeze barely lifted her hair from her forehead. “Like this?”

  “Good. When I say ‘Now,’ let it go, and I’ll pull it up into the air.”

  Hiroshi unrolled his line as he backed away from Skye. “But make sure you let go right when I say ‘now,’ or you’ll rip the kite.”

  Skye rolled her eyes and laughed. “I get it, Hiroshi.”

  Was it his imagination, or had the wind picked up? Hiroshi stopped and turned his back to the breeze. He let the reel unwind for a few more feet, then grasped the line.

  “Now!”

  Skye let go of the kite and Hiroshi lifted the line until his arm was stretched above him. He shuffled backward, faster and faster, and the dragon climbed higher and higher. The wind took hold of the kite and Hiroshi let out more line, surrendering the dragon to the sky.

  “It worked!” Skye ran up to Hiroshi. He nodded, keeping one eye closed to block out the sun. He practiced a few dives and twists with the kite before allowing it to drift higher. He’d half expected Skye to mess up the launch, but he had to admit she’d done a pretty good job. Well, he didn’t have to admit it to her.

  “Nice work, you two!” Grandfather’s voice came from the bench behind Hiroshi and Skye.

  “Thank you, Grandfather,” Hiroshi and Skye said in unison. They glanced at each other, and their smiles faded.

  “Hiroshi came up with a good idea on the way over here,” Grandfather said.

  Good idea? What good idea?

  “He said there are many things about Japan that you have not heard of before, Sorano. And people whom you do not know. This is as good a time as any for Hiroshi and me to teach you.”

  What? First kite-flying lessons, now lessons on Japan? Why does Skye need to know all of that, anyway?

  “I would love to hear about Japan,” Skye said. Hiroshi looked at the dragon and sighed. There was no way Skye would be going home early now.

  Grandfather turned to Skye. “Sorano, is there anything in particular you would like to know?”

  Skye nodded, like she’d been thinking of a question all along. “I’ve been wondering—I mean, I’ve asked my father, of course—but I’d love to know more about my grandmother.”

  Grandfather’s face softened, and although part of him looked sad, he seemed pleased by the question. “I will tell you a story about when we were young. This is one of Hiroshi’s favorites.”

  Hiroshi could barely remember Grandmother, but he’d heard so many stories about her that it felt like he’d known her all his life. “Why don’t you bring the dragon down, Hiroshi? This is a story for sitting.”

  Hiroshi wondered which story it was—he had many favorites. He handed the reel to Skye. “Can you take up the slack with the reel?”

  Skye nodded, looking pleased. With Skye holding the reel, Hiroshi was free to pull in the line hand over hand, coaxing the dragon lower. The kite fluttered down the last few feet, right into Hiroshi’s hands, as if the dragon wanted to hear Grandfather’s story, too.

  Grandfather settled in and began. “Your grandmother was a brilliant kite flier.”

  “She was?” Skye grinned. “Did you teach her?”

  Grandfather nodded. “That is a longer story for another time. But her most brilliant move with a kite string was the time she saved her father’s farm.”

  Hiroshi smiled. He knew this story by heart.

  “Crows have always been a challenge for farmers. One year in particular the crows seemed to have doubled in number. They were picking away at the seeds in the furrows, and everyone worried there would not be enough food to last the winter. Until your grandmother had a brilliant idea.”

  “The hawk kite!” Hiroshi grinned.

  Grandfather looked up as if he expected to see such a kite overhead. “Your grandmother designed a kite that was shaped like a hawk. When she flew it over her father’s fields, the crows stayed away.”

  “Wow, that was smart,” Skye said. “But she couldn’t fly the kite all day, could she?”

  “With the help of her brother, they mounted the kite on a bamboo pole and put it in the middle of the field. Soon all the farmers wanted one. I helped her make many hawk kites that season, which brought extra income to our families.”

  Skye beamed. “What else did Grandmother do?”

  Grandfather laughed. “We will have to save that for another time. It is getting late.” Grandfather looked toward the sun, which was now behind the trees on the other side of the park. “Next time we would love to hear one of your stories, Sorano. Wouldn’t we, Hiroshi? I am sure you must have some soccer stories to tell.” Hiroshi nodded, looking at his shoes. Grandfather stood. “It is time we walked Sorano home.”

  As he and Skye got up, Hiroshi heard a sickening crunch. Skye looked down; her hand flew to her mouth, and she gasped.

  “What?” Hiroshi followed her gaze where the dragon kite was pinned under her feet.

  “I’m so sorry!” Skye stepped off the dragon and reached for the kite, but Hiroshi blocked her with his arm.

  “Don’t touch it!” Hiroshi knelt and cradled the kite in his hands. He stood slowly, as if he were holding a cup filled with water and had vowed not to let a single drop spill. “Look what you did.” He wasn’t even sure if he had said the words out loud until Grandfather spoke.

  “Hiroshi.” Grandfather’s voice was stern. “It was an accident that can be fixed.”

  Skye apologized again, but Hiroshi couldn’t speak. The sight of the wounded kite and the sound of Grandfather’s harsh words drained the strength from Hiroshi’s knees. He sank onto the bench with the dragon on his lap, inspecting the damage in the fading light. Bamboo splintered through the ripped paper.

  Could this be fixed? When the kite had torn before, Grandfather had worked his magic and mended the tear. But this time? The bamboo pole would have to be replaced, which meant separating the broken pole from the kite, repairing the tear, and then attaching a new pole. He looked at Grandfather for answers, but Grandfather had his arm around Skye’s shoulder. Her face was pale. Grandfather gave Hiroshi
a look that warned him not to say anything more.

  Why was Grandfather feeling sorry for her? She was the one who hadn’t been careful. She was the one who had broken the kite. And Grandfather was too sick to make another one. This was too much.

  Hiroshi stood, tucking the kite under his arm.

  “It is time to head home,” Grandfather said. Skye nodded, looking miserable.

  The walk to Skye’s door only took about ten minutes, but it felt like an hour. Hiroshi wished he could cover his ears to block out Skye’s apologies and Grandfather’s reassurance that they could fix the kite. Before Skye had opened her front door, Hiroshi turned away as he mumbled good night.

  “Hiro-chan, you were too hard on Sorano.” Grandfather’s voice was gentle, but his words cut right through Hiroshi.

  “But she ruined the kite!”

  “A person’s heart is infinitely more important than any object.”

  Hiroshi wanted to say that the dragon kite wasn’t just any object, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the anger from his voice. He fixed his eyes on the ground.

  “Your grandmother would have loved to see you and Sorano flying the kite together.”

  All Hiroshi could do was nod. Why did everything always come back to Skye? What Hiroshi needed was more time with Grandfather, without Skye around. Now all he had to do was think of a way to get it.

  17

  Skye

  Skye shut the front door, snuck past the smell of dinner, and headed for the stairs.

  “Skye, is that you?”

  She knew her dad wouldn’t let her sneak upstairs without tasting whatever it was he was cooking. She backtracked and leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Her dad was stirring something in a pot.

  “Did you have a good time?” He stopped, took a sip, nodded, then kept stirring.

  “I broke the kite, and—” Skye’s voice cracked. Her dad took one look at her and set the spoon down. “I ruined everything.” Skye took a shaky breath.

  “What happened?” Her dad came and gathered her in a hug.

  Skye leaned against him. “I accidentally stepped on the dragon kite and broke it.”