I wait for her to say she’s kidding.
She doesn’t. “You’ve seen all the horrible tragedies happening around us. That means the oni are very strong indeed. Momotaro is the warrior who keeps them at bay. Your father is a Momotaro. So were your grandfather and your great-grandfather. All the way back to the original, who appeared when the world was in need of him.”
I sag, practically collapsing on the bed. At the same time, I note that Obāchan used the present tense when she talked about Dad this time. A small flare of hope heats my chest. Does she think he’s still alive? I don’t know. I’m so confused. “What? You’re telling me I came out of a peach?”
Peyton giggles nervously. “Peach boy. Cute little fuzzy peach boy.” If I could reach, I’d sock him.
Obāchan talks fast. “No. You were born from your parents. But when a boy in our line is old enough, or when it’s necessary, you become a Momotaro.”
Before I have time to process this, my grandmother grabs my hand and turns it over. She pries the lid off the octopus’s box and shakes some big grains of salt into my palm. “In Japan, salt is sacred. In the old days, and sometimes still in certain places, we sprinkle salt at our doorways to keep out the oni. It is one weapon.”
My head aches. I slump on the floor. “And here I thought it was only good for putting on food.” The room feels like it’s spinning really fast. “Obāchan, come on. You’re saying I’m destined to be some grand warrior….” I search for words. “And you’re telling me all this now?” My voice squeals. It does that sometimes, unfortunately.
Peyton snorts, his face fading back into its usual tan. “Xander, a warrior? Maybe in a virtual world. Behind a keyboard. Not in real life.”
I glare at him. “Why don’t you think I could be a fighter?”
“No offense, Xander. But both you and I know that you’re not exactly into sports. Or anything physical. Don’t you remember the school Jog-A-Thon, when we had to run around the field to raise money? You gave up after one lap.” Peyton shrugs. “I did more laps than that with a broken ankle, for goodness’ sake.”
“It was hot,” I say lamely. “I could have done more if I wanted to.” Sheesh. Why does he have to be so darn right about it? I feel like I’m an inch tall.
Peyton slides next to me. “I’m not trying to be mean, Xander. I’m only telling you what I’ve observed.” He looks at my grandmother. “Are you sure you didn’t get banged on the head, Mrs. Miyamoto?”
“I’m not crazy, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Obāchan holds up a hand. “You two boys stop interrupting.” She raises an eyebrow at us and we nod. “We were going to take you to Japan next summer, to study all this and more.” She presses her hand against her mouth. “They got too strong for your father. Just like they were too strong for my husband.”
My grandfather, another person we rarely talk about. I always thought it was because he and my father disagreed about everything. So my grandfather was a warrior, too. I stare at her, not knowing what to think. Obāchan has never once lied to me. Heck, she’s never even told me a fairy tale. Instead of stories, she read me encyclopedia entries at bedtime. Could she have developed an active imagination all of a sudden?
But then again, this mountaintop now has its own private beach, so I should probably keep on trusting her.
Obāchan screws the lid on the canteen. “Xander, there’s a window of time when your father can make the water recede. Just like it never happened.”
“Dad can do that?” I’m still really confused.
“Yes. And save the people. But instead, your father vanished. That means the oni have him. You must rescue him, and you must go now.” She gulps. “If you don’t, most of the world will be underwater or worse very soon. We must correct this.”
I’m still trying to wrap my head around her words. “So you’re telling me these demons…these oni…are so strong they defeated both my father and grandfather, and now it’s my turn?” This. Is. Unreal. “What can I do? I’m just a kid!”
“You’re different.” Obāchan’s lips thin into a line. “You have talents.”
Peyton stands again, towering over my grandmother. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Miyamoto, but Xander can’t be the Mommy-taso.”
“MOMOTARO!” I shout at him.
Peyton slaps his hand down over his bouncy hair. His eyes are lit with excitement. “Whatever. He can’t be the Momotaro. He’ll get killed. Annihilated. Turned into a thousand little pieces of Xander mincemeat.”
Wow. He’s on a roll. “Exaggerate much, Peyton?” I stick my fingers into the carpet, start picking at it. Peyton’s right. I’m no warrior. The idea is really the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I think of Dad. He can do push-ups on his knuckles. That’s how strong he is. What can I do? Draw funny pictures of people? “What kind of talents?”
“We don’t know exactly, Xander. We think it has to do with your drawing. Nobody else in the family did that.” Obāchan sits on the bookcase. “Your grandfather and father were of equal strength, but your grandfather focused more on the physical, and your father focuses more on the mind. Then there’s you….” She hesitates. “You’re the only one with a mother who…” I can tell she’s choosing her words carefully, trying not to upset me.
“With a mother who what? Abandoned her kid?” Steady, voice.
“Who’s not Japanese,” Obāchan says softly. “Nobody knows how that will affect a Momotaro. What talents you will gain, or lose. It’s genetics.”
Fantastic. Another not-right thing about my heritage. Even when I find out I’m some kind of superhero, something’s weird about it. “How is that going to help me, Obāchan? How?”
My grandmother shakes her head. “I don’t know if it will help or hurt you, Xander. That’s the truth.”
Peyton moves over next to me and puts his hands on his hips. “Whatever Xander’s going to do, Mrs. Miyamoto, I’m going to do it with him. And nobody can stop me.”
Obāchan blinks up at him, a look of gratitude on her face. She pats his arm. “Why, Peyton, I wasn’t going to stop you. I was just about to ask you to help Xander.”
“Oh.” Peyton squares his shoulders. “Well, good. Because I’m ready, Mrs. Miyamoto. Just tell me what to do.”
I can’t believe Peyton’s offering to be oni bait with me. If I were him, I’d be running home by now. I grin. “Aw, Peyton, you’re volunteering to be my sidekick? Thanks. I knew there was a reason I was keeping you around.”
“Watch it, Miyamoto.” Peyton kicks at me playfully. “I’m your bodyguard, not your sidekick.”
“Whatever.” I grab his ankle. He shakes it free like my hand is a cobweb. Further evidence of my weakness. “You’re still my sidekick.”
“Bodyguard.”
“Sidekick.”
“Hush, boys. Pay attention.” Obāchan opens up the box attached to the monkey. Rice pours out into her palm, a lot more than you’d think could fit in that tiny container. “Rice and salt and water. This is all you need. The building blocks of life.” She puts the lid back on the monkey box and ties the belt tight around my waist, around my T-shirt. “Now, come along.”
She walks briskly out of my room. Inu gets up and lopes after her. Peyton and I look at each other.
“I guess we better do what she says,” Peyton says.
I look out my window at the brand-new ocean and I want to crawl under the bookcase and hide. But then I think of Dad. He’s still alive—someplace—and it’s up to me to bring him back. “I guess so.”
We follow my grandmother. She barrels downstairs and out of the house, a waterproof messenger bag in her hands. I didn’t know she could still move half that fast.
The sun’s low in the sky, starting to set—at the appropriate hour this time. Obāchan splashes into the water up to her ankles. “Come here.”
We obey. She puts the nylon messenger bag over Peyton, crosswise. “Time is different where you’re going. You have five sunsets until your parents will even know you are gone.”
Peyton and I exchange another glance—mine alarmed, his gleeful. “Five days away from my parents? I volunteer!” He sloshes into the water, then pauses, shading his eyes against the setting sun. “Okay, what do you mean by where we’re going? All I see is a whole lot of water.”
“If we have to swim, I’m definitely out.” I take off my socks and wade into the warm water. I’m not a great swimmer. I look like a frog having a seizure.
Peyton belly-flops onto the shore. “Get on my back. I’ll carry you, sea-turtle style.”
I don’t want to. Somehow this is even more humiliating than the notion of me not being able to swim alone. Peyton really is my bodyguard, not my sidekick. “You can’t carry me. We don’t even know where we’re going. It might be like ten miles. Then we’ll both drown.”
“Nope.” Peyton’s all confidence. “I won’t let us.”
“What if there’s a shark?”
“I’ll punch its eye out.” Peyton stands up again. “Stop worrying so much.”
“I’m not getting on your back, okay? No way.”
Obāchan ignores our comments. She takes in a deep breath. Then she hurls the netsuke ship charm into the sea.
It plops like a pebble and disappears.
That was my favorite netsuke. Why’d she do that?
Inu nudges my hand with his cold, wet nose. Woof, woof!
“What?” I say. He whines.
I look where my dog’s looking. Hear the sound of rushing water, like a very large bathtub filling up.
A great wooden shaft thrusts out of the water. A tree trunk, maybe? I blink, my brain trying to process all this new stuff and failing miserably.
The ocean tries to shove the tree trunk back down, but it fights, bobbing, and finally the water spits the whole thing out.
An enormous wooden ship bursts from the sea, sending a chest-high wave at me.
The wave knocks me off my feet, flips me over. When I finally emerge, hacking, Obāchan is just standing there, smiling serenely, as if she’s seeing us off to school. No big deal. I just threw a tiny charm into an ocean that wasn’t there before, and a huge boat appeared. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“For what? To get on that?” I don’t want to move. The ship’s a few hundred yards offshore, at least. That’s like the length of three Olympic-size pools. I can’t even swim one. “Isn’t there a little rowboat to take us?”
It looks like a wooden pirate ship. Last year, my class spent the night on the Star of India, an old ship moored in San Diego harbor, and we had to learn about this kind of vessel. The first thing they told us is that a ship like this needs a big crew to manage the sails and everything.
The Star of India is more than two hundred feet long. I figure this one is about half that size. It has two masts and big white canvas sails. The taller mast has what I think is the Japanese flag flying from the top. Then I see that the giant circle isn’t red, but peach-colored.
It’s Momotaro’s boat.
“Am I asleep?” Peyton whispers.
I punch his arm as hard as I can. He doesn’t even flinch. I pinch myself. Ouch. “Nope.”
He nods, looking dazed. “All righty, then.”
Inu jumps into the water and starts swimming. Peyton shrugs and dives in himself. Of course he would. It’s so easy for him, he might as well be crossing the street.
“Obāchan?” I say in the tiniest voice I’ve ever heard. “I can’t do this.”
My grandmother’s beautiful face beams. “Sometimes, Xander, the best way to start something scary is to just jump in.” With that, my tiny, ancient grandma shoves me into the ocean.
“Whoa!” Suddenly I’m in deep water. Flailing my limbs, I manage to keep my head in the air. “Aren’t you coming, too?” I call to Obāchan.
“No.” Obāchan takes a step backward. “Have faith, Xander. Faith and imagination.”
Imagination, yes. Apparently my imagination is so great it works without me, drawing whole comic books and hilarious pictures of my enemies while I’m not paying attention. But the faith part—I have no idea what Obāchan means by that.
Somehow I don’t think faith and imagination are going to kill any demons.
I look toward the ship. Peyton and Inu are already there, Peyton helping Inu climb a rope ladder that’s dangling into the water. Inu grips each rung with his teeth as he scrambles ever higher.
“Are you sure you can’t come with—” I turn back to my grandmother again.
Obāchan’s gone.
In fact, everything’s gone.
My house is missing.
Where it once stood there’s just barren, black, flat rock. A desert of rock. For as far as I can see. Not a single building or hill or stick of tree on it.
I feel like I just porked down an entire large pepperoni pizza and guzzled a liter of root beer on top of it. But I have to start swimming, because I’m already sinking.
I make my way to the boat, slower than a turtle on land. Woof! Inu barks at me from the deck.
Peyton sticks his head over the railing. “Just grab the ladder and climb up.”
I grip the rope. “Really? I thought I was not going to grab it and just drown.”
“Ha-ha.” Peyton watches me climb. “Just get to where I can reach you, and I’ll pull you up.”
I grunt and wheeze. Climbing a rope ladder like this looks a lot easier than it actually is. The ladder bangs against the side of the ship, smashing my fingers, and clutching it for dear life is giving me rope burn. I grit my teeth. If I’m this exhausted already, how am I ever going to get to wherever my dad is? I’ll be in a wheelchair by then.
Finally, when I’m near the top, Peyton grabs me under the armpits and hoists me all the way onto the deck. I sprawl face-first, my palms splayed on the polished wood. At least there are no splinters. Inu shakes himself dry, getting bits of fur and doggy water all over me. I sit up, breathing hard.
“You made it.” Peyton claps my back.
“Barely.” If this is Part One of being a warrior, I don’t think I’ll survive any other part. I still can’t catch my breath with the cramp that’s knifing my side. Now I wish I’d chosen to jog around the track during PE instead of just walking. If only the coach had yelled, Xander, run, because one day you might be on a pirate ship searching for your father and fighting demons. If I’d known that, I definitely would have tried harder in that class.
I look around. It’s full-on night now, but a light glows from below. “Are we alone?”
Peyton, on the other hand, appears to be experiencing emotions opposite of mine. “Yeah,” he says with a grin. “Totally alone. How awesome is this? No parents. No adults. Nobody telling us what to do!” He climbs six feet up the netting that hugs the mast. “Woo-hoo!”
Well, it’s nice that he’s feeling at home here. But I’m not. How are Peyton and I supposed to sail this thing by ourselves? I’ve never even rowed a boat. Not even in a video game. And sailing is the one activity Peyton’s dad hasn’t done with him.
Maybe I don’t have to worry about it. The wind flaps through the canvas sails, and there’s a creaking noise as the sails shift on their own.
The ship glides away from shore.
We descend a short ladder into the cabin, helping Inu balance on the rungs. There’s a small kitchen with a wooden table and a bench built into the side of the ship. Galley, I correct myself. That’s what a kitchen is called on a ship. No fridge, but there is an old-looking gas stove and cupboards. One lamp glows above the table.
Kerosene sconces on the walls burst into life as soon as our feet touch the floor. Torches with sensors?
Peyton busies himself opening cupboards. “I could eat an elephant. Or at least a large pony.” He shakes his head. “Sheesh. Nothing.” He slams a door shut.
My gut agrees with him, growling so loud that Inu cocks his head at me. He wags his tail and yips. “You hungry, too, Inu?” I guess the swim settled my stomach. You wouldn’t think I’d want to eat after all that has
happened, but we hadn’t been able to finish our dinner before the world turned upside down. I start looking through the cupboards, too. “If I were food, where would I be hiding?”
Inu sniffs around and points with his snout at the cabinet above a hammered copper sink. Woof!
That alone is a really good reason to have a dog around: sense of smell.
I open the cupboard and inside is a lacquered square bento box. It’s full of rice balls. Onigiri, my grandma calls them. Made of steamed white rice, with meat or another treat in the center. I pop one into my mouth and bite down. “Chicken.” I sit on the bench at the built-in table. I throw one to Inu, overshooting his head, but Inu stands up and catches it anyway. “Good boy!”
Peyton slides in next to me and puts two rice balls in his mouth so he looks like a chipmunk. “Chicken and…” He makes a face and spits a chewed-up mass of soggy rice into his palm. “Ew. Super salty and sour.”
I recognize it from Obāchan’s arsenal. “That’s a salted dried plum. Obāchan gives those to me when my stomach hurts. You can suck on it and you’ll feel better.”
He makes a face. “Are you kidding? Sucking on this will definitely make me barf.” Peyton looks around for a place to throw it away, but Inu eats it out of his hand.
I pluck out a second rice ball. Inu licks his chops, so I throw it to him and take another for myself. Then I hesitate. This is all the food we have. Maybe I should save it for later. But my stomach rumbles, and I take it out anyway. Peyton knows how to fish. We’ll be fine.
The ship’s course seems steady. “Do you think this thing is preprogrammed to go someplace?”
“Or it’s magic,” Peyton says. “That’s my bet.”
Magic. Fairy tales. If you’d asked me before today, before this hour, if I believed in magic, I’d have said no. I’m not a little kid. I don’t believe in Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy or anything like that anymore.
But I can’t exactly explain away all this with technology, can I? “Maybe we’re in the Matrix and this is all in our heads.” I eat yet another rice ball. My stomach begins to feel full.
Xander and the Lost Island of Monsters Page 6
