Sumi's Book Page 2

Without light to ward them off, the monsters of the dark roamed freely over the world. The other gods tried everything to lure Amaterasu out of hiding. Nothing worked until Amenouzume, the goddess of joy and celebration, came up with a plan.

  Amenouzume laughed while she hung a mirror from a tree branch near the entrance to Amaterasu’s cave. Drawn by the sound of her joyful mischief, the other gods gathered around. When Amenouzume began to dance, they thought it was so funny they all began to laugh.

  The laughter caught Amaterasu’s attention. Curious about the fuss, she moved the rock to peek out of the cave. When she saw her brilliant reflection in the mirror hanging from the tree, she stepped outside to look closer.

  The gods quickly sealed the cave entrance with a magic rope so she couldn’t get back in. Then they begged her to roll back the darkness. Amaterasu listened to the pleas and returned to the heavens to shine her light on the world. In her Shinto temple on the island of Honshu, Amaterasu’s divine being is represented by a mirror.

  “Did you find something you like?” my mother asked, breaking me out of my reverie.

  “Yes, and something you might like, too.” I held out the carved box.

  “You found it!” Okasan gasped with delight, and her hands trembled as she took the box.

  My mother is usually really reserved, even when she’s happy. I couldn’t figure out why she was so excited, unless she thought I’d found some long-lost relic. When she purchased the box along with my dress and accessories, I figured it would end up in a museum display. I didn’t know until we left the shop that she had bought it for me.

  “Shouldn’t something like this be in a museum, where everyone can appreciate it?” I asked, trying to be diplomatic. I couldn’t picture where I would stick the box in my room.

  Okasan shook her head. “This mirror has special meaning for you.”

  I frowned in confusion. Maybe the box and the mirror weren’t valuable ancient artifacts after all. Maybe my mother just thought I had finally seen beauty in pieces of old junk. The mirror had made me remember one of my favorite stories, but it really didn’t reflect my style. It didn’t reflect anything. The glass was gone.

  But Okasan was so happy that I just smiled. It would be ungracious to refuse the gift, but I hoped she wouldn’t notice if I kept the grimy old box in a drawer.

  2

  Fairy Tales and Tea

  We flagged a taxi on the corner and got in before it started to rain. As we drove off, I realized Okasan hadn’t even opened the box before she bought it.

  “There’s a hand mirror inside the box,” I said. “But the glass is missing.”

  “I know,” Okasan said.

  “How could you know?” I asked, puzzled. “You didn’t look at it.”

  “I’ll explain when we get home.” Okasan folded her hands around the old box in her lap, as though protecting a precious treasure.

  I don’t usually waste time or energy trying to pry secrets out of people—I always find stuff out eventually. But my mother’s mysterious answers were too odd to ignore. I pestered her with questions, which she refused to answer.

  “I’ll tell you everything you need to know, Sumi,” Okasan said, “but not in the back of a taxi.”

  I held my tongue as we exited the cab with our bags, walked through the lobby of our building, and rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor. The instant we entered our apartment, my patience broke.

  “Are we going to talk about the box now?” I asked as I kicked off my shoes onto a mat by the door.

  “Yes,” Okasan said. “I’ll make tea.”

  I hesitated before I turned down the hall. “What should I wear?” I wanted to change into comfy shorts and a tank top, but that wouldn’t be appropriate for a tea ceremony.

  The Japanese people have many ancient cultural customs. I respect all of them, but the Way of the Tea is my favorite.

  The Japanese tea ceremony is a form of wabi that honors age, imperfection, and the unadorned. The preparation and serving of green tea are precise, and the formal ritual in the presence of guests can last for hours. My mother performs the tea ceremony only on very special occasions. She was acting so weird about the box, I didn’t know if today was one of those occasions.

  “Put on something comfortable,” Okasan said. “I’ll make tea in the kitchen and bring it out.”

  Okasan set the box on the tea table and cradled the silver candlestick as she studied the living room. I could tell she was looking for exactly the right spot.

  My mother had chosen the furniture and accents in our new apartment with great care, and everything was placed just so. The tea table sat in the wide space between two sand-colored couches. Two matching side tables, one at opposite ends of each couch, and a mizuya were the only other furniture. With many drawers and cabinets, the wooden mizuya resembled an entertainment center without the TV. Books, the tea ceremony cups and implements, and a few board games were stored inside it.

  That’s right. I said no TV. My parents think TV will rot my brain, which means I have to stream all my shows online. How else can I stay on top of the hottest fashions? I just have to remember to keep the volume really low.

  Okasan placed the colonial candlestick on a side table by two small books of Japanese poems. The gleaming silver complemented the leather-bound paper and blended with the minimal, Asian-chic decor.

  Only the carved box on the table stood out.

  I headed down the hall to my bedroom. Hanging out at Mystic Moments with my mother, surrounded by antiques, had drained me. The vibrant colors in my room were the shot of energy that I needed.

  The headboard, computer desk, dresser, storage chest, and nightstand were simple in design and made of light oak. Everything else—the curtains, pillows, bedspread, blankets, and wallpaper borders—was shades of bright green with pale yellow and pinks. My cloth-covered desk chair was green with large white, pink, and yellow polka dots.

  I dropped my shopping bags on the bed and turned to hang my new dress in the closet. Then I quickly changed out of the shopping-with-Okasan outfit and into my favorite comfy purple shorts and a soft vintage tee of a band I’d never heard of but loved because it had worn thin with age.

  The neon-green numbers on my digital alarm clock read 4:38. It was late afternoon in New York and not quite dawn the next day in Kyoto. The time difference made real-time communication difficult. My friends were having breakfast while I was having dinner, and they were in school while I was asleep.

  I checked my email anyway.

  Hisako had written me three times in just a few hours!

  I glanced at the photo of Hisako, Eiko, and me on the desk beside my laptop. We were all smiling. The picture had been taken right before we lost a volleyball game. I almost never lose anything, so I definitely didn’t keep the photo to remember the game, but we all looked so fantastic, it was hard not to frame it. I was glad I did, since it cheered me up to see my friends, even if I couldn’t see them in person.

  The tea water hadn’t had time to boil, so I sat down to read Hisako’s emails.

  Sumi!

  There’s a totally gorgeous new boy at school. His name is Akiyo. I think he likes me! He’s talked to me every day this week. When can you IM? MISS YOU!!!

  Hisako xx

  That was news! I’m always getting texts and calls from boys who like me. They’re all nice, but they’re not boyfriend material. I’m waiting for someone who’s really special.

  Eiko is cute and funny, so boys like her, too. She changes boyfriends like I change clothes.

  Hisako is the shy one in our group. She’s a bit of a bookworm and can be very proper. She hardly ever talks to boys. I hoped she wasn’t misreading Akiyo’s attention.

  I crossed my fingers and opened the second email.

  Sumi,

  Why haven’t you written back? I have to go to sleep soon. I hate that you’re so far away. I wish you were here so I could talk to you anytime!

  Hisako

  I wanted
to shout, “I have things to do! I’m getting settled in a new country!” There was no point, of course. Hisako was half a world away, and she can’t take a hint anyway. I opened her last email.

  Are you mad at me?

  Hisako

  I sighed. Hisako worries about everything. It’s annoying, and I didn’t want to keep my mother waiting. But Hisako would worry all day if I didn’t write back, so I sent a quick reply.

  Hisako!

  I’m not mad. I’m busy. Okasan took me shopping—at an antique store! Sigh. ;) I’ll ttyl, before I go to sleep. Can you IM at lunch?

  Sumi

  Feeling good about how I’d handled Hisako’s drama, I returned to the living room just as Okasan knelt to set a tray on the tea table. I sat on a pillow and waited while she poured green tea into blue tea bowls. They don’t have handles like teacups, but the pottery is thick so they don’t get too hot to touch.

  I took a sip and smiled. Okasan had steeped it just long enough. The taste was mildly sweet and not at all bitter. I don’t understand why tea never fails to relax me, but it does.

  “And a special treat.” Okasan set a small plate in front of me and removed the white napkin.

  “Almond berry cakes!” I took a plump blueberry off one of the chocolate cake squares and popped it my mouth.

  Okasan lifted her tea bowl and sat back on her heels. “Now we can talk about the hand mirror.”

  I finished chewing and swallowed. “What about the box?”

  “It’s what’s inside the box that counts,” Okasan said.

  “But the hand mirror is broken,” I said.

  “The hand mirror is the ancient talisman of the Yugen Lineage of fairy godmothers.” Okasan held my gaze. “It appears when a girl is ready to begin her training in Aventurine.”

  Okasan’s stories about young girls on dangerous quests in a fantastic fairy world had thrilled me when I was young. I was much too old for fairy tales now.

  “You’re almost thirteen, Sumi,” Okasan went on.

  Exactly, I thought.

  “It’s your turn to go.” My mother’s expression was serious, and she spoke without a hint of humor. “Soon.”

  I was so stunned I couldn’t think of what to say. I took a long sip of tea to cover my expression of disbelief.

  “I know it’s a shock,” Okasan continued, “but you must be prepared for what lies ahead.”

  “You mean a mission?” I hoped I didn’t sound as skeptical as I felt. The girls in her stories tamed giant serpents with songs, used dancing sticks to fly, and rode avalanches on magical sleds!

  “Yes,” Okasan said. “Every fairy godmother in the Yugen Lineage must repair the mirror. You’ll be sent on a quest to find the five missing shards.”

  “What kind of a quest?” I asked.

  “I do not know,” Okasan said.

  “Didn’t you go on one?” I was sure I had found a hole in her story.

  “Yes, but the mission is different for every girl.” Okasan poured more tea into my bowl.

  The idea that all my female ancestors had been fairy godmothers was just too preposterous. However, my mother was clearly trying hard to make me believe it. Eventually, I’d figure out why. I’d just have to humor her until I did.

  Okasan opened the carved box, removed the hand mirror, and passed it to me. “Most fairy godmother lineage talismans stay with the family.”

  “Then why was the Yugen mirror at Mystic Moments?” I peered into the glass that wasn’t there. The polished brass inside the frame gleamed but didn’t reflect anything.

  “Once the mission is completed, the mirror disappears and a crescent scar on the girl takes its place.” Okasan gently touched the curved mark on her cheek.

  I gasped. I had never had a blemish, not even a freckle.

  Okasan didn’t scold me for being vain. She tried to comfort me with an explanation. “The scar means I successfully completed my quest, Sumi. And that allowed me to continue training to become a fairy godmother. I was happy to get mine.”

  Despite how unbelievable it all sounded, I had to ask, “What kind of fairy godmother stuff do you do?”

  “I find beauty in the world,” she said.

  My mother finds old junk that she thinks is beautiful. I rarely agree with what she finds beautiful, but I would never say so.

  Okasan mistook my silence for worry. “You’re a smart, resourceful girl. I’m sure you’ll succeed in Aventurine, too.”

  I wasn’t worried about failing. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to succeed if I’d be scarred for life! Of course, that would only be a problem if Okasan’s stories were true.

  Fairy godmothers and Aventurine couldn’t possibly be real, could they?

  Part Two

  Unraveling

  3

  Shifting Dreams

  After tea, I helped my mother in the kitchen. Three boxes of kitchenware had been delivered while we were out. Everything had to be unpacked, set up or washed, and put away. It took hours, but Okasan told me funny stories about her latest experiences in New York. Things were so different here!

  We ate a light dinner of miso soup, rice, and a cucumber-seaweed salad on our new dishes. Then I went straight to bed, stopping only to brush my teeth and wash my face. When I got to my room, Okasan had placed the box on my desk. I tried not to think about it, but that was like trying not to think about an elephant after someone says “elephant.”

  I didn’t remember that Hisako was expecting to chat until I was under the covers. My clean sheets were cool and comfortable, and I was too tired to get up. Besides, my mother’s sanity was more important than my friend’s love life.

  Okasan hadn’t mentioned the fairy world again, but she seemed to believe in it. I wasn’t sure which was more unsettling: if my mother were delusional, or if the stories were true! Now I wished I had pressed for details about her mission. What could my down-to-earth mother have accomplished in a magical world?

  I fell asleep imagining a young Osen Hara battling monsters in an Aventurine garden.

  I woke up wondering why my brand-new mattress was soft and squishy. And why the scent of dried herbs and salt air tickled my nose. When I opened my eyes, I realized I was still dreaming.

  A fairy stood on a rock pedestal a few feet away. Hints of green, red, and blue glittered in her silver wings. No jewelry, flowers, or shells broke the sleek lines of her long silver hair and shimmering silver gown. Although she didn’t have fins or a tail, she reminded me of a beautiful silvery fish.

  “Who are you?” I asked in a voice raspy with sleep.

  “I am Queen Kumari,” the fairy answered. Her voice echoed like crystal chimes in a great hall.

  “Of course.” I smiled and nodded knowingly.

  Most Japanese children are familiar with our many gods and goddesses. Apparently, I had dreamed up my own version of the Shinto water goddess, Ame-No-Mi-Kumari, a warrior who can control water and summon lightning bolts.

  My silver Kumari was prettier and much nicer, I decided.

  “Queen Patchouli of the Willowood Fairies sent me to help you begin your mission,” Queen Kumari said.

  “Okay.” I yawned and stretched. My hand hit something much harder than my oak headboard. I sat up with a jolt.

  I was not in my yellow, green, and pink bedroom in New York City. I was sitting on a nest of sea grasses in a large cavern. It was softly lit by thousands of sparkling crystals in the ceiling. Except for the grass bed and the fairy’s rock pedestal, the cave was empty.

  It all felt so real. I suddenly began to doubt that I was still asleep! Plus, I never would’ve imagined myself in such a plain setting.

  “All fairy-godmothers-in-training must record their life’s dream when they enter Aventurine the first time,” Queen Kumari said.

  “I don’t remember entering Aventurine,” I said.

  “You dreamed your way in,” the fairy explained.

  “How long will I be here?”

  “Only one night will pass where y
ou came from,” the fairy queen said, “but you are living in Aventurine time now. How long you remain here depends on how long it takes to complete your mission.”

  And my reward for completing the mission was an ugly scar.

  “What happens if I don’t complete my mission?” I asked.

  “You’ll be banned from Aventurine.” Queen Kumari looked at me with solemn blue eyes. “And your descendants, too, perhaps.”

  “That’s not fair.” This fairy queen was starting to tick me off. Who was she to kick people out?

  “Then do not fail.” The fairy queen’s majestic wings opened and closed, lifting her up and carrying her to the pedestal. A large leather-bound book appeared on the pedestal, and a spongy stool sprang up beside it. “Sit here, Sumi.”

  My feet were bare, since I was still wearing what I’d worn to bed. I didn’t want to step on sharp pebbles or slip on slime, but making excuses didn’t seem smart. I wanted to see what happened next. I held my breath and put my feet down.

  The rock floor was smooth and hard. Nothing gross was growing on it. I didn’t have to hold my arms to ward off chills, either. The air was warm. The sea sponge stool was dry and stiff, and I didn’t sink when I sat down. The porous surface just felt a little scratchy on my bare legs.

  “What should I do?” I asked.

  “Write what you most want from life in The Book of Dreams,” Queen Kumari said.

  I flinched with surprise when the large book suddenly opened to a blank page. I started to ask for a pen, then noticed a shell with a silver lid and a feather quill beside the book. The shell was full of shimmery purple ink. If only my gel pens came in that shimmery color.

  This part will be easy, I thought. I had known what I wanted to do since I was four! I dipped the quill pen in the ink and wrote:

  I want to be a famous model and fashion designer.

  Convinced I was off to a great start, I smiled with satisfaction.

  Then all my words vanished!