A Cat's Tale (The Secret Desires of Hotaru Nyanko)

Five: 贈り物 (Gift)

1985

(Shin's P.O.V.)

The next morning my grandma woke me up for work. She pushed open my windows, and my eyes turned away blindly from so much brightness coming through them. I remembered flashbacks of our family having a picnic. I was playing kite with dad, and the next moment he gave my mom some coke from the icebox, and she sipped carefully. Slowly after that, they burst into an argument, luckily there were not many people to see or hear.

It was something that a young boy like me, could never understand. It's crazy that when we get older, those memories that we never knew come up together in our mind, solving themselves in their way like a puzzle combined with a realization.

"You know she moved us all here, right!?" She screamed out from the top of her lungs, with her blonde hair shining from the sun.

"Yes," my father insisted. "You know it's for the best!"

"You and your family." Y'all only want your kind of best," she said, walking away from us and taking the car with her.

It was the worst picnic ever.

They slapped each other like little kids, both of their cheeks red from their never-ending fights.

"Your mother doesn't want to go back here. She was born here Shin, for goodness' sake; she shouldn't have married me then!" My dad blurted out.

We walked home that day and as weak as my legs are from walking, my dad kept what he usually did, look straight ahead and never cared a thing or two about the world.

I didn't know I was Asian American until I knew about countries. When I was in grade school we studied in my home country, Japan. It's nothing like my Grandma Wida used to talk about it. She collected ornaments and antiques everywhere, as old people do. Growing up in her house could be a bit scary, because my dad only comes there on weekends, always drunk and tired.

I used to believe in ghost stories, but it's more than that.

And it went on and on like that, for years.

Grandma never really talked about why she left Japan and now we're all living here like an outcast.

It was strange; she always talked about other people's stories, as if they were hers.

One night we were all eating at the table, and I got home from school. She was muttering like crazy like she was out of her mind.

And then she proceeded to walk towards our kitchen table as if nothing happened.

"Dark forces are here, child."

"Dark forces are here...”

My dad stood up after that, wiping his lips with a handkerchief, and just flew out the door as if he was annoyed her all these years. And he did.

He always hated her, and I didn't know why.

My mama was born here in Florida, on April 9, 1975. My father was born in Japan, on January 26, 1970. Looking bright from those pictures they're in, they seemed to be happy. But after I was born and my mama moved back to where she lived, she hated my dad's family, especially Grandma.

My mama worked in Japan when she was 19 as a librarian. Back then she was struggling with Japan's inequality in jobs for men and women. She wanted to work in the office, but people expected women to just marry and raise families. My dad met her at that library. He was in college studying engineering at what I remembered called Manabu University while he was on research his thesis.

Soon after my father's graduation, my Grandma Wida was so happy she waited all her life to get out of Japan and move to Florida. She took the chance and moved with them, because they were getting married and my mother wanted her parents to see their new baby, and that's me.

******

"Hey, Shin!"

I was 10 back then, and my bully classmate Andrew balled a pink gum from his mouth and spit it at me.

"What are you doing?"

For the third time that he did this to me, I couldn't help my rage.

He punched me in my locker once and almost threw me at the trash can. I hid my bruises at home with a Band-Aid, and my grandma took care of them for me.

I squealed and pushed him to the ground, starting a fist. "Oh, he couldn't stand up now, could he," I thought.

I saw a hint of blood in his upper lip, sliced to the bottom.

"Fuck you," he whined.

He stood up, his other leg limping while he walked and turned away from me.

Later that day, I trailed my way to the forest. The summer seasons were the best. That was also the time that everything became magical.

“Don’t you dare go into that forest,” my grandma used to tell me?

I kept those words by heart. But not now, I guess.

The slight bruise on my arm ached a tiny bit, and I remember wincing and whimpering when grandma splashed alcohol on it. I always admired her for the genuine love she gave me.

I adore papa but it's not like the way I adore grandma. I remember that forest. It was bright and beautiful. Nature had a different calling to me, and I always knew it was the rarest kind of mystical thing. As my small, tiny steps made their way to the solid ground, I slowly felt my mother calling out to me, with her voice so tender. "Here shin, here."

My fingers would then touch the bark of trees, and the leaves of grass and look up at the sky so heavenly and blue and its form and the air so breath-taking and fresh. As a child I didn't know that my mother was calling out to me, I just always heard her voice everywhere like an angel that was not from this world; I have always thought that she guarded me for some reason.

"Here Shin, here."

She would whisper again.

I walked around the forest like it was a chain of circles. I just followed the sound of my mother's voice, knowing that I will be in her arms soon and forgetting the fact that she was gone. I felt that she was insinuating to me to come to her paradise. Soon enough I heard very loud voices that turned into screams. I covered my ears and shouted back as loud as possible. "Help!" I shouted.

As I collapse to the ground, I saw a big light underneath me. Coming up is a huge circle with its blinding light that hurt my eyes, and the voices rippling the effect of the sound. I cried when the vision of the fire hunted its way to me. I saw my mother covered in flames, and she stood up from the air as if the fire belonged to her, and she is fire. "Don't worry my love," she spoke, her mouth breathing out burning flames. I stood up from the ground holding her close to me. "I love you and I’ll keep you safe."

"I have a gift and you have to see it," she whispered in my ear.

Hastily I was pushed to the ground like a hand knocking on my chest. Slowly gathering my senses, I rose back up. I looked down again and there was no circle, and there were no voices. 

As I trudge back from where I left, a black vulture came up to me brushing its feathers and sitting down in my head. I was too scared to brush it off, but when I did and tried to go back it flew up and made irritable noises. I sensed that it wanted me to follow her all along because when I did, it stayed silent with its wings flying smoothly. The bird flew as farther as it took us and it seemed like a never-ending journey. When my whole body was dripping in sweat, we stopped by a huge black door.

Suddenly, a stairway opened up for us to go in. It was so bright that I can't see. Covering my eyes, I caught a glimpse of nowhere from within. I felt invisible like no one sees me anywhere. Even if I shouted, I knew no one would hear me. It was past midnight, and nobody knew where I am. I looked around for the vulture. It's gone.

Great, now I'm more alone. The moment I saw a bickering light, my feet were trembling, and something pushed me so hard inside that I fell to the ground. I threw my hands in the air, begging for someone to help me.

 "Get up boy,"

A husky voice said.

I look up and see a red-eyed old man with thinning silver hair, his head looking like a skull, and his skin white as paper. He held out his hand to me and I can see the blue veins in his arms like ripples waiting to get out. I went for his arm and he dragged me ruggedly, so rough that I can feel my legs scratching the rocky surface.

"Where are you taking me?"

I blurted out.

" Ehhh. Stop complaining or I'll smash you into pieces."

I watch him as he tugs his limping left foot away as he walked.

I remember I had a sharp pen in my pocket, remembering that the school used to teach us self-defense. I didn't think twice as I stabbed his other foot.

"Aaaaah!"

I watched him terrifyingly as he fell abruptly to my knees. Seeing that little hole burst out of blood almost made me puke from fear and worry. I stood up as my legs shake from the scratches, watching my foot slightly bleed as well.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!"

The old man screamed.

I run as fast as I could, never looking back.

I walk along a dark path, and I could barely see.

Just then I heard roaring laughter from a distance.