Two: 邪悪な猫 (Wicked Cat)

“Hotaru! Hurry!”

Courtney hissed as I pick my backpack which fell on the ground, as we ran to the bus. “Geez, you’re always late.”

As we got inside, it felt so oddly cold. “Let’s sit here,” I told Courtney. The bus arrives usually at 7 am, and we start our classes by 8:15 am. “Had a good sleep?” she asked. “No.” or so I thought. Courtney then looked back to see Tyler, her crush since eighth grade. Her wild eyes wander toward him, and they seem scary to me. “What?” she asked as I looked at her sternly. “Stop,” I said. She’s scaring the guy away. Oh, come on, she groaned. “You got to chill.” I looked around, knowing that Tyler might see me. His curly blonde hair and tanned skin outshone the rest of his other good-looking friends as he laughed along with them. Before I knew it, he turned his head around and winked at me.

****

I have never made love. I grew up knowing soon I would want to try it over and over again for it sounds pleasing to the stories that I hear from my friends.

"...and what about you, Hotaru?” your name must be like a wicked cat, but you never tried it for yourself. What a poor little thing", one of the mean girls from the school said. “Don’t worry, Hotaru. They're just being mean so others will notice," says Courtney.

There was one summer night when Dave, Tyler’s brother held a party at their house. We were in a big circle, our red cups filled with liquor in front of us as we played the usual truth or dare. I remember that after Sarah, Tyler’s ex-girlfriend back then finished her dancing, took a shot from the cup, and then turned to me. And of course, the goosebumps hit me. “Truth or Dare?” they all exclaimed.

I am annoyed by silly questions, so I took a deep breath, and said... “Dare.”

So, at that moment my super annoying best friend Courtney and everyone dared me to kiss Dave. Dave was on the other side of the circle, frozen in shock. He looks very nerdy and is a huge introvert, which is quite the opposite of Tyler.

Dave looked at me, with a weary expression on his face. Then he looked at Tyler, who was wearing a crazy smirk. I have never felt so ashamed in my life.

Knowing that no one is going to make a move, Tyler dragged Dave off the floor to me. “Poor Dave.” I would think that if anyone would only look closer, beneath those big glasses and shy exterior, lies a very handsome face. When he leaned closer to kiss my lips, I closed my eyes, and I unthinkingly kissed his forehead before he even got a chance to kiss me. When I opened my eyes everybody looked confused at me.

“What?” I asked. It’s still a kiss anyway, I explained.

“Whatever, dumbass,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes at me.

After our Calculus class, we headed for lunch at the cafeteria. Courtney went along to eat with her glee club friends. I find an open space near the side entrance of the hallway, and I began to open my lunch bag. “What’s in it for today?” Stir-fried noodles fishcake and some sandwiches. Everything looks so delicious. As I sat there happily chewing my food, Mr. Sallis, the Head Principal of the school entered the building announcing to everyone that he is deciding to make plans for this summer. “I announce to you,” he said with his deep voice and sharp manner, “that we are having an art show and concert for a cause.” Everybody expressed delight as Mr. Sallis went on. “I want you to organize teams who will do the artwork and the ones who will participate in the small concert. This show’s money will benefit the hungry children in Africa, to help bring food to their stomachs and as you all may know, we have four months to plan this out so let’s do our best and be with me.”

At the end of our classes, Courtney went up to me while I’m busy with my thoughts about the summer show. “Auditions will start tomorrow,” she squeaked. “I know. I think you should participate in the concert. You should sing,” I told her. “Well, I hope I get in,” she said.

“Of course, you would.”

“How about you, Hotaru?” “I think you’ll be good for the art show. I mean, you have amazing sketches. You can go for illustrations.”

“Maybe,” I thought. Although I don’t have an idea what to even draw.

After saying goodbye to Courtney, I went to the grocery store to buy some orange juice, candies, and bread. “That would be $12.50, miss,” the cashier lady said. As I paid for the items, I caught a glimpse of the vintage store 15 meters away. I saw two people who just stepped outside. “Now that is a new store in town,” says the lady. “Mind you, it’s incredibly creepy.” I thanked her and curiosity overwhelmed me.

Taking a few steps, I went in. Old cases of bookshelves with extraordinary furniture stood before me.

“May I help you?”

A huge old woman who sat at the counter suddenly spoke, so I turned to her, and she looked as astounded as me. She looked as though she could smirk at any minute but kept her face calm and curious. Her curly spooky white hair stood still on the top of her head as the wind blew through the windows.

“Errr... No, thank you.” I smiled as she sheepishly shrugged her shoulders hiding beneath her purple baggy dress.

*****

When I was six, Papa took me to a huge carnival after my classes every week. He would always buy me my favorite Mochi because I love licking my sticky fingers while I munch on the ice cream filling. He would carry me up in the air as he carries another teddy bear, a bag of Mochi, and another plastic bag of popsicles and noodles. “Aha, watashi no chisana on’nanoko!” He would exclaim. He would always call me that, meaning I am his little girl. He does not care if he is loud, he does not mind if he would go out of his way to make me happy. If he knows I need him he would cancel all his meetings to make sure I am okay. He looked good with his glasses and his thick, black hair. Maybe Papa knows that life is short, but he doesn’t know that it would end so quickly on him. He always shows up professional and presentable- he had a huge wardrobe filled with suits and another for his shoes and watches. He was a Chief Marketing Officer in Kawasaki, a huge steel industry in Japan and I remember that each time Mama has her birthday he would come home to us bringing her the finest jewelry. They looked as if they were so perfect- the kind that you would take a picture of on a lovely evening- a beautiful Japanese husband and wife with adorable little children in an exquisite home, while my Mama is wearing her silky robe and my Papa kissing her hand as she shone with such a glowing face and the brightest smile.

Inside the home, however, turned completely different as Kai and I were growing up. Mama and Papa constantly fought about a lot of things, leaving me and Kai to console each other. Papa hid that he had an illness, never having enough time for us to dedicate it all to his job and Mama would go on about her day- cooking meals for us, doing the household chores and in the midst of it all, sneaking out from time to time to see her childhood lover that Kai and I suspected she was doing. It was then that I secretly hated her.

But as much as I hated my mother, Kai and I loved her so deeply well. Although Papa never cheated on her, Mama would tell us countless stories every night. Papa loved us but we doubted that he loved her as much. Although Papa was a very jealous man he would come home, watch TV and never say a word to her. Sometimes we thought that even though he would bring her lots of gifts, he never appreciated her at all. When they fight sometimes, he would bring up a hand against Mama’s face leaving her bruises the following morning. I would say that we loved and hated them both at the same time.

When Papa discovered that Mama was cheating against him one hush rainy night as he secretly got home seeing her outside flirting with another man he quickly went upstairs, took all her clothes, and shoved them out of the window. From that moment on, Mama left her lover alone and I could still hear her cries up to this day as she begged my father for forgiveness.

“Gomen!” she shouted, her voice all creaky saying sorry repeatedly.

 It was the most dramatic moment of our entire lives. Kai and I sneaked through the window and saw Mom all wet from the rain, kneeling at Papa’s knees with her long white dress that clenched to her nude body. Papa unhesitatingly left her there alone and locked the door.

It was I who immediately got outside to bring her in. I bathed her because she could not handle herself and couldn’t take that she was discovered by Papa. As I grabbed a warm jacket while the water was running hot in the tub, she held my hand and asked me to never be like her. She then let out another series of cries in front of me, imagining to myself that I could never be her, even if I tried to be. I did not know if I pitied my poor Mama back then because she made bad decisions in her life, but I also tried to understand what she was going through. She never told us about her mother although Kai and I knew that she had a bad childhood through Papa’s stories. Papa would always brag about how he saved her, but not tell us the whole story of why he did.

****

The craziest thing about libraries is that they would always give out a smell of woodsy scent- or at least I had noticed. And it is not only the furniture and the shelves that bring out a strong odor of warmth, but the books too. As I slid my finger through the covers, I remember the feeling of reading. I used my love of reading when Papa became ill and when he sat bedridden for a couple of weeks, I stood beside him while Kai sat in the corner while they listen to my stories. 

As I stumbled upon some classic literature books by Brontë, Fitzgerald, and Tolstoy I stacked them up on a small table somewhere in the back study area far from Mrs. Joanna Penn, which are carefully imprinted from the old librarian's golden badge fixed on her right breast. At least I deserved a little bit of space from her possible nosiness.

 Flipping through the pages, I thought that maybe I could somehow incorporate some of the stories into art for the upcoming school program's show exhibit, but I don't know how to do it yet. As I read further, I remember Papa. Oh, those days. He would call me every night just so I could read for him. How I loved seeing him happy on those dreary nights that he had. How I wanted to go back and save him. How I wished I could have done so much better, told him more stories, and loved him more.

“Monogatari o yonde kuramasen ka?" He would ask.

"Mochiron, papa. Of course, I would read you a story."

He was too fragile to even move I couldn’t even hint at the slightest wink he would always give me as an affirmation that he always does when he is excited.