Miyu's Wish (11 page)

Aunt Mari parked us in a dirt lot across the street from the school—Saturday night had arrived, and the regular parking zone was brimming with tents and vendors. Currents of excited people moved through them like a rolling stream.

“It
really
is like a carnival,” she mused as we stepped out of the car. She watched as an anthropomorphic moose—our school mascot—waved at the crowds filtering through the entrance. Behind him, a man on six-foot-tall stilts tiptoed around rampaging kids, doing his best to seem friendly. I worried he might fall.

“So what’s first on the itinerary?” Aunt Mari asked as I inspected my reflection in the passenger window. The day had been a little chilly, leading me to finally decide on a long-sleeved, black blouse with a sleeveless, cowl-neck sweater draped over it. A quilted skirt and black leggings completed the ensemble.

“I figured we’d just roam around for a while,” I replied, noticing she was already heading into the street. I hurried after her.

“This Thad guy must be pretty important to you,” she remarked, slowing down as I approached. “You’ve been fawning over yourself all day.”

“I always take pride in my appearance,” I replied innocently.

We crossed the road and found ourselves face-to-face with the moose.

“Welcooome, frieeeends!” he said, startling us both with his loud, obnoxious voice. I waved at him hesitantly and then darted to my aunt, who had just edged her way inside. We merged with the throngs of guests and allowed ourselves to be circulated deeper into the festivities, marveling at the transformation my school had undergone in just a day.

“Let’s go on a ride!” I suggested, seeing one called Spinner Speeder up ahead. It was essentially a fast-paced carousel in which people sat in an enclosed carriage, were lifted into the air, tilted at an angle, and then spun around at hair-raising speeds.

“I don’t know, honey,” Aunt Mari said cautiously. “How about something less extreme, like the Ferris wheel?” But seeing I was beginning to pout, she relented. “OK, but just once.”

She purchased us each a ticket, and we got in line. In a few short minutes, we were in a carriage, being spun without mercy to absolutely nowhere. I laughed while she cringed, but as the ride ended, even she had to admit it was a lot of fun.

“But you should see your hair,” she teased as we stepped off. “It’s everywhere.”

“Aww, really?” I whined, immediately opening my purse for a brush.

“Don’t fuss over it too much,” Aunt Mari said jovially. “The windswept look suits you.”

I shook my hair down. “You think so?” We both laughed.

We continued walking and eventually found our way to the other side of the fair. I spotted a large tent with a collection of community art on display, and pulled my aunt inside.

“I bet this is the visitor’s tent where my painting is!” I exclaimed, hopping from one display to the next. Paintings, pottery, jewelry, and other crafts were everywhere, but I finally spotted my own work standing near the back entrance. I bounded over, pleased to see it inside a nice, mahogany frame and resting on an easel of polished brass. My name, age, and grade were written on a placard right below the portrait.

“This is it, Auntie!” I called, waving her over. “What do you think?”

“At long last, I get to see this amazing painting of yours,” she smiled. She came to join me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

But as her eyes fell upon my work, I could see something was wrong. Her smile vanished, and I felt her arm tense as if she were threatened by something.

“Auntie, what’s the matter?” I asked as she pulled away from me. For just a splinter of a second, I thought I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. “You don’t like it?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she murmured casually, glancing back between the portrait and me. Her forehead was scrunched into a series of folded lines—something that only happened when she was very agitated. “What…inspired you to create this?”

“That’s what everyone asks,” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “He’s just a boy I saw once.”

Aunt Mari placed a slightly trembling finger to her mouth, biting a nail—something else she rarely did.

“Auntie, what’s bothering you?” I implored again, this time with more vehemence than I intended. Her bizarre reaction had me completely confounded.

“Where have you seen him…that boy?”

“I don’t know,” I answered doubtfully, my cheeks reddening. I looked at the canvas—at Keil—as if seeking his support.

“Miyu, where have you seen him before?” she repeated sternly. She was glaring at me now with her jaw jutted out, and I felt as if I were about to be punished.

“In a dream,” I said in an almost defiant tone. I felt tears crawling into my eyes, but I forced them back. “Auntie, why are you acting this way? It was just something I felt inspired to do.”

She seemed to collect herself as I stared at her pitiably, my hands tightened into fists beneath my face. “It’s nothing,” she finally said. “He just reminds me of someone I knew once, someone you couldn’t have known. Just a weird coincidence, I suppose. Caught me by surprise.”

She watched me awkwardly, seeing that I was trembling. “Miyu, I’m really sorry,” she cooed, bending over and squeezing my shoulder. “You did an amazing job on that piece. I’m proud of you.” She then hugged me. I felt better, but my pulse was still racing.

Auntie then rose to her feet and glanced at her watch. “Isn’t it about time you met that guy friend of yours?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t ready to drop the other subject altogether. “But the man you knew once, was he a bad person? Is that why you panicked?”

She gazed at me as one stares into a flame, and for a moment she looked very old. “No, of course not. He was just an old acquaintance I hadn’t thought of in years. Now go find your friend. I’ll meet you at the entrance around eight thirty.”

“OK,” I said slowly as I began trotting off. But something didn’t feel right, and I ran back to give her another hug. “Are you really going to be OK?” I asked, squeezing her.

“Yes dearest, of course,” she said gently, but a hint of melancholy resonated in her voice. She clutched my cheeks and, squeezing them, looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you. Now go have some fun.”

If I were a cat, I would have purred. We walked out of the tent together, and she nudged me toward the festivities.

I smiled back agreeably and scampered off. As I drew farther away, however, I felt the sudden urge to double back and secretly spy on her. But Thad was waiting.

I wandered around the grounds for a while, but had no luck finding my date. Wishing we had planned our outing better, I retraced my steps to the front entrance and hoped to spot him coming in with the crowds. After a few minutes of pensive waiting, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Hey there,” Thad grinned as I spun around.

I smiled and did a little bounce. “I was afraid you hadn’t come.”

He rolled his eyes. “And miss a chance to spend an evening with you? No way!”

We laughed and strolled away together, headed nowhere in particular.

“You want to try one of the rides?” he asked, observing the large Ferris wheel standing in the distance. “Or is that not your thing?”

“Are you kidding? I love rides! I just dragged my aunt on that big spinning one earlier!”

“You mean the Spinner Speeder? That’s a good one.”

I nodded in agreement, but my smile faded as I thought about my aunt again.

“Why the bummed look all of a sudden?”

I forced myself to smile. “It’s nothing. My aunt was just acting a little strange earlier. No big deal.”

“Maybe that ride you forced her on rattled her brain a little too hard,” he said wryly, and I giggled.

“Maybe,” I said in return. I hopped ahead of him and then turned back with a smile. “Let’s go find a fun ride.”

He jogged after me, and for the next hour we went on rides, sampled food, and tried our luck at many of the rip-off carny games sprinkled around the property.

“Blast, can’t believe I missed that,” Thad grumbled. He was attempting to win me a prize by throwing baseballs into a row of standing plates, but he was having a hard time.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said consolingly, “I don’t need a prize, and I think this game is rigged, anyway.” The old carny running the game looked at me unhappily.

“No, I’ve played baseball since the third grade,” Thad grunted, winding up for another throw. “I can do this.” And sure enough, five dollars and fifteen pitches later, he managed to smash the three plates necessary to win me a prize—a stuffed hippo the size of a small ice cream cone.

“Sorry,” he said, handing me the animal. “I thought it would be one of the bigger ones hanging up there.”

I laughed and gave the hippo a hug. “It’s wonderful, Thad. I love hippos. Thank you.” I actually liked cats and dolphins, of course, but it was the gesture that mattered.

We walked in silence for a little while, stealing little glances at each other. But we would have to continue things another day; it was almost time for me to meet back up with Aunt Mari, and the sky was becoming murky as if it might rain.

“I’ll have to be heading back soon,” I said regretfully.

“Yeah, you said eight thirty, right? Maybe next time we can do something a little later into the night.” He looked away awkwardly. “You know, if you want to.”

I gazed at him. “I would like that, but…” I hesitated for a moment. “Thad, you’re a fun, impressive guy. But a
nice
girl needs a
nice
boy. Do you…understand?”

“Yeah,
no fighting
,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“
No bullying
,” I said pointedly.

He gave me an exasperated look. “But Miyu, that deal with Clarence was a one-time thing. I was just jealous. I wasn’t thinking.”

“If that’s all it was, then OK,” I replied, not wanting to drag the issue further. “I just want to see you helping others, not the other way around.”

We walked again in silence for a moment, and then—to end our evening on a lighter note—I asked if he wanted to see my painting.

“OK,” he said simply, looking relieved.

We found the tent and entered the opposite side from where my painting stood front and center. I gasped. Someone had
taken a black marker and drawn a line down Keil’s face, as if he bore a terrible scar.

“That mark is
not
supposed to be there?” Thad asked with concern, noticing my shocked expression.

“It’s not, but…” I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.

“I can’t believe someone did that,” he spat. “But the painting, you know, is very good.”

I peered at it intently. Like suddenly comprehending a complicated theorem, I realized the dark mark was the “missing something” I hadn’t been able to visualize before. That long crack represented exactly who Keil was—a weary, fractured soul.

“It’s OK,” I said, tugging on his arm to leave. “Somehow it suits him, that scratch. It’s better this way.”

“If you say so,” he said, looking unconvinced. “But if I ever find out who did that, I’m going to pop him one.”

I glowered at him.

“Hey, just joking,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Raindrops fell as we left the tent, and they began increasing in tempo as we walked away. People were scurrying about, either heading for the exit or searching for shelter under canopies and umbrellas. We sighed at each other; neither one of us wanted to leave, but the rain seemed to ordain it so.

Lightning splintered the sky in prickly tendrils, its thunder drowning out our footsteps as we hustled back to the entrance. The air was electric, and I felt the hairs on my arms rise like little stalks of grass.

A terrible crack—like a baseball bat snapping in two—sounded behind us. It was deafening, and everything seemed to move at half speed as I turned around, the scent of charred wood in the air. My eyes fixed on a smoldering food stand just yards away; someone was lying motionless on the ground.

I felt myself run to the figure—
it was Kimberly
. I cried out her name again and again as I knelt beside her, my tears mixing with the falling rain. I shook her shoulder, but there was no response.

I screamed at Thad to call 9–1–1, wherever he was. I then set to work, compressing her chest and counting to thirty, praying her eyes would open. I wiped the wet hair from her face, tilted her chin back, pinched her nose, placed my mouth on hers, and blew. I saw her chest rise and I gave two breaths, but she still didn’t stir.
Why wasn’t she responding? God, what was I doing wrong?
I went through another round of compressions and breathed desperately into her mouth again, as if trying to give her a piece of my soul.