Dolls of Hope (17 page)

“I was afraid of Hoshi. Now I’m not.”

“I’m not afraid of her, either. I’m sorry for her a little.” Chiyo held her forefinger and thumb a quarter inch apart. “I’m sorry this much.”

Hana held her thumb and forefinger pressed together so tightly the tips turned white. “I’m sorry for her, too. This much.”

They giggled together, but Chiyo glanced over the back of the seat and was glad to see Hoshi talking with Shizuko across the aisle and not listening to them.

She held Emily Grace to the window again to see small shrines. The ground had begun to rise toward tree-covered hills. When she pressed close to the window, she could see the peak of Mount Tsukuba even farther north than her village home.

She reached into her pocket for her new
kokeshi
and felt the rolled artist’s sketch. She had scarcely had a chance to look at it. With a glance at Hana, who had her eyes closed, she pulled it out and unrolled it.

“What is that?” Hana asked, awake after all. She leaned across Emily Grace. “Why, it’s you, Chiyo! Sensei, look at this!”

“H
irata-san made a lot of drawings,” Chiyo said. “He gave me this for posing for him.”

“It’s very good.” Hana took the drawing from her and called again to Oki-sensei. “Look, Sensei, the doll maker gave Chiyo one of his sketches.”

Chiyo almost grabbed for the paper, but Hana was already handing it across the aisle to their teacher.

“It is very like you, Miss Tamura,” Sensei said. “He has even signed the bottom.”

The door at the front of the car opened with a whoosh of cooler air. The conductor came through, checking people’s tickets. Everyone bustled a bit, searching through pockets or bags.

“My parents will like it,” Chiyo told Sensei. “They’ll put it in our alcove with flowers or budding tree branches.”

“Like a spring scroll,” Hana said.

“
Hai,
” Sensei agreed. “Youth and spring are much alike.”

Watanabe-sensei, sitting behind her, asked to see the picture. Oki-sensei handed it back to him while she reached into her bag for her ticket.

He studied the drawing, looking thoughtful. “Hirata Gouyou is one of Japan’s finest doll makers, as was his father. Treasure this drawing, Miss Tamura.”

“I will.” Chiyo leaned across Hana to reach for it, but Hoshi, sitting behind the music teacher, asked to see the drawing. The conductor came closer, and Watanabe-sensei handed the picture to Hoshi while he located his ticket.

Feeling uneasy, Chiyo asked, “May I have the picture?”

Hoshi leaned forward as if to hand the drawing to Chiyo. The paper left her fingers and floated into the aisle. “Oops.”

“Pick it up at once,” Oki-sensei exclaimed.

Chiyo scrambled across Emily Grace and Hana to get into the aisle. But the conductor moved ahead, taking up most of the space. “Hoshi!” Chiyo exclaimed around him. “Grab it!”

Hoshi didn’t move. The conductor, paying no attention to them, started toward the next row of seats. Chiyo felt her heart leap into her throat. “Stop! Please, stop!”

Around her, the world seemed to slow down. The conductor was laughing with someone over a comment they’d made. Chiyo watched in horror as his foot hovered over her picture.

“Don’t step down. Please!”

For a moment, the car seemed frozen, with Watanabe-sensei starting to his feet. The conductor’s foot hovered . . . then drew away. He bent down and picked up the picture, looking from the drawing to Chiyo. “Why, this is you, young lady. Anyone would see that right away. Who is the artist?”

“He’s a doll maker,” Chiyo said, hardly able to get words past a thickening in her throat.

“Yes,” the conductor said. “Hirata Gouyou. I see his name here. And he has drawn you! Are you someone important?”

“No.” Chiyo wished he would stop calling attention to her and give her the picture.

Hana said, “Yes, she is! The doll maker is going to put her face on a doll to represent all of Tokyo!”

The conductor’s brows rose. “That is an honor! Young lady, you must take better care of this drawing.”

“I will,” Chiyo promised as he handed it to her. She added fiercely to herself,
I will never let it out of my hands again!

The conductor moved on, and Hoshi said, “Poor Miss Tamura. Did you really think I would leave it there? It was a joke!”

Hana said, “Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

Oki-sensei added, “Miss Miyamoto, of course you mean to apologize.”

Hoshi sighed and said, “I am sorry Chiyo couldn’t see the humor.”

Chiyo thought,
That’s not an apology. I don’t have to accept it.

Sensei said with a tight expression, “Has the drawing been harmed, Miss Tamura?”

“No,” Chiyo answered, looking carefully at both sides of the paper.

“Then we will speak no more of it.”

The incident might have been closed to the rest of them, the way the incident on the train platform was closed and the incident with the vase, but none were closed for Chiyo. She said low-voiced to Hana, “I don’t even want to walk like her anymore. I’d rather stomp than glide like Hoshi.”

Hana agreed. “Sometimes stomping is best.”

After returning the sketch safely to her pocket, Chiyo lifted Emily Grace into her lap and straightened her skirt and collar. The train rolled ahead. Wheels clacked out a rhythm on the rails, and gradually she relaxed.

They passed more farms with thatch-roofed homes and outbuildings. The scenery began to look familiar. “We are almost home, Emily Grace,” she said, lifting the doll to the window. “You will like the lake, and you might see the ruins of the old castle where a shogun once lived.”

Hana grinned. “In Tsuchiura, little changes except for an old castle settling into the mud.”

“Here, a schoolgirl is just a schoolgirl,” Chiyo added with relief. “Someone no one ever notices.”

Hana held her
kokeshi
toward the window. “Miki, welcome to boring Tsuchiura.” The train lurched, and the doll slipped from her hand and rolled into the aisle. Hana scrambled after it and accidentally knocked it farther away “Shizuko, my doll went under your seat.”

“I’ll get it,” Shizuko promised, bobbing below the seat back.

Chiyo watched Hana scramble to join her and smiled, thankful to be back in Tsuchiura. She held Emily Grace to the window again. “There’s the station. And
Otousan
and
Okaasan
! They’re with Yamada Nori! They’ve all come to meet the train.”

She hugged the doll. “Maybe they’ve come to take me home!”

Throughout the train, everyone was gathering belongings, preparing to leave. Chiyo edged around Hana and Shizuko, still on their knees hunting for the
kokeshi.
Holding Emily Grace close, she moved past Hoshi and Kimiko, who were sorting out their packages. She was first of their group to step onto the platform at the back of the car.

Astonishment held her there.

T
he station was full of people, even the headmaster. Bright banners fluttered over the platform. Someone was playing a flute, another, a drum. A group of students from Tsuchiura Girls’ School began to sing the welcome song.

Headmaster Hanarai came forward. “Here is our doll ambassador,” he announced. “We are all eager to welcome the little traveler from across the sea.”

As she stood in the doorway of the railcar, holding the doll she had brought safely all the way from Tokyo, Chiyo felt as though she had won a difficult race. Before bowing politely to the waiting people, she lifted a hand in a tiny wave just for her parents, a wave that said
I see you and I love you and I can’t wait to be with you.

Watanabe-sensei urged her forward. “Take the doll to Headmaster Hanarai, Miss Tamura. Everyone is waiting to meet her.”

Chiyo felt as if pulled between two countries, like Emily Grace. The warm country of family and childhood pulled her one way. The new country of her school pulled another.

Behind her, Sensei murmured, “You must officially hand over the doll.”

Chiyo hesitated. She had loved Emily Grace and cared for her and kept her safe. Could she hand her away as if she were just some package brought from Tokyo?

Behind her, Hoshi muffled a laugh.
Hoshi thinks I won’t let the doll go.
The uncertainty that had kept her on the small platform broke at the thought. As she crossed to the headmaster, she wondered what she should say. No one had told her. Did they expect her just to know?

Headmaster Hanarai bowed when she reached him. She was surprised, expecting to bow first to him. Quickly, she bowed in return and offered him the Friendship Doll, who now belonged to the school.

Words flowed from her heart. “Headmaster-san, here is Emily Grace. She has traveled all the way from America to bring the good wishes of American children.”

Approval showed in his face as he answered. “The students and staff of Tsuchiura Girls’ School are honored to welcome the little ambassador.”

The gathered people seemed to expect more. They all looked at Chiyo. What else could she say? Lexie’s haiku popped into her head. “Emily Grace brought us haiku written by the American girl who loved her. I would like to share one of the poems. It says,

‘
Emily Grace glows.
Her warm smile carries friendship.
Sunlight after rain.
’”

Again, she saw smiles and approval. Headmaster Hanarai reached for the doll.

“I promised to keep her safe.” The words burst from Chiyo, sounding as if she didn’t trust the headmaster to take care of Emily Grace.

“You have done so,” he assured her, taking the doll from her arms as if he did not hold a piece of her heart in his hands. “When we have finished here, you may spend an hour with your parents, Miss Tamura. I understand they must leave for their home after that.”

“Arigatogozaimasu,
Headmaster Hanarai-san.” She bowed, struggling against turning and running to her parents at once. They were going home so soon! She didn’t want to lose one minute she could be spending with her family.

The headmaster beckoned to her and to all the girls who had returned from Tokyo, asking them to join the others on the platform in singing “The Welcome Song” to Emily Grace. Again torn two ways, Chiyo stood beside Hana and joined her voice to the others.

At last, the song ended. The headmaster spoke briefly, telling those gathered at the station how the Friendship Dolls had been sent to create peace between the two countries. “In two weeks, our school will hold a welcoming ceremony. Our girls are busy creating paper flowers to decorate a rickshaw. Emily Grace will be carried through town so that all may see and welcome her.”

Chiyo glanced toward her parents, making sure they were still waiting. When could she go to them? She looked at Headmaster Hanarai, hoping to be dismissed, and saw Oki-sensei speaking to him. The teacher beamed at Chiyo.

Headmaster Hanarai exclaimed, “Miss Tamura, you have been honored! Oki-sensei has just told me you have been given a sketch of yourself done by master doll maker Hirata Gouyou.”

“Yes, headmaster-san.” Her voice sounded as uneasy as she felt.

“May I see it, Miss Tamura?”

She had already given up the doll! She had no choice but to bring out the drawing. She felt everyone staring at her as she reached into her pocket. “I mean to give it to my parents.”

“Yes, of course.” Headmaster unrolled the picture, studied it, then held it up for others to see. “The artist has captured your spirit, Miss Tamura. We at Tsuchiura Girls’ School are as proud as your parents will be.”

“Arigatogozaimasu.”
She reached for the picture, but the headmaster had not finished.

He held it away, smiling as if doing her a favor. “Tsuchiura Girls’ School will be happy to frame the drawing for you, if you will allow us to display it for a time.”

Could she say no? What would happen if she said no? She wanted to snatch the drawing and run to
Okaasan
and
Otousan.
Headmaster Hanarai was already placing it in his briefcase, as if she had agreed. The question had not been a question. He meant to display the picture at the school whether she wanted him to or not.

She looked toward her parents and Yamada-san, hoping they would tell the headmaster to give back the drawing. Pride glowed from their faces.