Mieko and the Fifth Treasure (3 page)

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Authors: Eleanor Coerr

BOOK: Mieko and the Fifth Treasure
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Whenever Miss Suzuki was not looking, Akira turned around and made faces at Mieko. He crossed his eyes and twisted his mouth into strange shapes. He looked so silly that Mieko almost laughed. But when he hissed, “Monster-hand!” she glared at him.
Mieko heard her mother saying, “Always see beauty, never see ugliness. ” How could anyone see beauty in Akira?
It seemed that the morning would never end. Mieko was so, nervous that she stumbled over her own feet and twice she dropped her book. In history class, she could not remember all the names of the Japanese emperors. Everyone knew those. She did not even try to write, but kept her hands folded in her lap.
During arithmetic, there was a sudden loud noise outside, and Mieko ducked underneath the desk. Almost the moment she did it she felt silly. It was only a truck backfiring, not a bomb exploding. Still, she was shaking. When Akira and some of the others tittered, Mieko wanted to die on the spot.
At that moment Miss Suzuki was pointing to a giant abacus that stood in front of the room.
“Mieko,” she was saying, “please come up and work out this problem in multiplication. ”
“I ... I didn't hear the question,” Mieko stammered, her mouth dry.
Miss Suzuki's voice was disapproving.
“You really must try to pay attention, Mieko.”
Akira went up to the abacus and quickly moved the counters to get the correct answer. On the way back to his seat he gave Mieko a smug look and stuck out his tongue.
“I hope your tongue falls off!” Mieko muttered under her breath.
By lunchtime Mieko's stomach was in knots. She couldn't eat one bite of the rice and fish that Grandma had prepared for her. She just sat there, staring at her chopsticks. How could she use them in front of the others? What if she dropped food all over the place? Wouldn't Akira like that!
As they filed out into the schoolyard, Akira came up behind Mieko and grabbed her schoolbag. He dug into it and pulled out her painting brush. In a flash, he swaggered out into the yard shouting, “Hey! Look what I've got! Monster-hand's dirty old atom bomb brush!”
Mieko turned pale and ran after him, trying to grab her brush.
“Give it back!” she screamed. “It's mine!”
Other boys joined in the game.
“Monster-hand! Monster-hand!” they chanted, tossing the brush from one to the other, always just out of Mieko's reach.
She felt like crying, but she gritted her teeth, not wanting to cry in front of them.
Suddenly she heard a girl's voice.
“Stop that! You're acting like a bunch of babies.”
That ended the trouble. Akira threw the brush to Mieko. The boys shrugged and walked away.
The girl handed Mieko her bag and said, “Don't let those dumb boys bother you! They are always doing something childish.”
Mieko knew the girl was called Yoshi. She was small and dainty with a red bow in her hair. And she smelled of flowers. Mieko wished that she could be exactly like her—so calm and pretty. Instead, she was upset and hot and sweaty. She was a freak with an ugly hand that seemed to stick out a mile.
Soon a group of girls had gathered around, staring curiously at Mieko and asking questions.
“Did you get that scar from the bomb? What was it like? Were there lots of dead bodies? What did they look like?”
Mieko looked from one to another. She felt hot and dizzy and her legs went rubbery. All at once the ring of faces around her started melting together, and she crumpled to the ground. The girls—suddenly quiet—backed away.
FOUR
GRANDPA
When Mieko came to, she heard voices. The principal was speaking to Miss Suzuki.
“She just seems to be overexcited, that's all.”
“What makes it so sad,” Miss Suzuki said, “is that a few children have been teasing her. As if she hasn't been through enough.”
Mieko sat up and drank some water. All she wanted now was to get out of there.
“Do you think you can walk home alone?” Miss Suzuki's voice was concerned. “I can send one of the students with you.”
“No, thank you!” Mieko said quickly. “I'm fine now.”
She certainly did not want any help from them. And if Grandma knew about the fainting spell, she would make a fuss and call the doctor.
Mieko.left the school. But instead of going straight home, she slowly walked to the field. Grandpa was working up to his hips in rice plants that were turning a golden brown. Mieko stood on the path, kicking up little clouds of dirt until he saw her and came over.
“Phew! ” he exclaimed, tipping back his straw hat and wiping his forehead with a small towel. “Autumn is late this year. I'll be glad when it cools off.”
Mieko noticed how much his tanned face was like Father's—yet different. It was thinner and more wrinkled, and Grandpa's hair was gray.
“How was school?” Grandpa asked, tucking the small towel back into his belt.
“Awful!” Mieko mumbled. “I hate everyone there. ”
Grandpa gave her a quick glance that seemed to see right into Mieko's mind.
“That is a heavy load of hate for a little girl to carry around.” He rubbed the bony knuckles of his hands to ease the arthritis. “Of course they are all monsters?”
“Yes! ” Mieko replied.
“Have you tried to be friends with anyone?”
Mieko thought of Yoshi. She shrugged and kept her head down so that she wouldn't have to meet his eyes.
Grandpa swept an arm toward the rice field.
“See that? Rice does not grow all by itself. I must plant the seeds, fertilize them, and see that no weeds stop their growth. Then I must separate the seedlings and plant them farther apart. It is not easy.” His face was serious. “It is not easy to make friends either, especially when you hate almost “ everyone.”
Then he stretched and started back toward the field.
“Think about it!” he called over his shoulder.
Mieko was too upset to think about his words. She wasn't interested in growing rice, anyway.
At the house a shock was waiting for her. Inside the entrance, neatly placed together on the cement floor—toes out—were two shiny brown shoes.
Mieko tried to slip past the living room, but Grandma heard her.
“There you are!” she said. “We have been waiting for you. Come in and say hello to Miss Suzuki.”
Mieko sighed and stepped up into the room. She knelt on the tatami, and bowed her head in greeting. She wondered what Miss Suzuki wanted.
Grandma poured some tea for Mieko into one of her best cups. Mieko noticed the flower design—the same as on Mother's dishes.
“Miss Suzuki thinks that you should stay home for a little while until you have your strength back,” Grandma said.
The teacher nodded.
“When you feel better, Mieko, you may come back to us. You are always welcome. ” She gave Grandma a sideways glance. “There is plenty of time. ”
Mieko watched them over the rim of her cup.
Grandma frowned, tucking a wisp of gray hair into the bun at the back. “But Mieko must learn to get along with other children. And there is her painting ...”
Miss Suzuki leaned forward and lowered her voice.
“Please don't worry. Mieko will be back in school soon and she can easily catch up. Of course, there is no reason why she cannot continue her painting at home. ”
Mieko's face lit up. No more school! No more teasing from Akira and the boys. No more giggles behind her back. Maybe she would never go back to that school. But continue with her painting? How could she do that? Without the fifth treasure it didn't matter.
Later that day, the mailman brought a letter from Mother.
Dear Mieko,
There are so many patients that your father and I are working long hours in the clinic. We hope that you are happy on the farm and getting strong and healthy. By now you must be in school and making many new friends. Write to us when you can. We miss you.
Love,
Mother
“Any news from home?” Grandma asked.
Mieko shook her head. Then she ran upstairs and put the letter away.
That night she was already in bed when Grandpa came home late. His footsteps sounded heavy and tired on the stairs.
“Mieko,” he whispered, “are you still awake?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. Mieko didn't want to hear any more about growing rice or making friends.
“I understand, ” Grandpa said, as if he knew that she was faking. “When the time is right, you will go back to school.”
The kindness in his voice made Mieko feel worse. She lay very still, scarcely breathing.
At the door Grandpa said softly, “Believe me, Mieko, some lovely sunny day you will look around and find a friend. And in your happiness you will paint beautiful word-pictures again. Just like before.”
Mieko heard the rustle of the door sliding shut.
“He's wrong,” she thought. “I've lost the fifth treasure for good. And I'll never be happy again.”
FIVE
WAITING
Grandma asked nothing of Mieko now. Long before Mieko woke up she would put on her black cotton work pants and shirt, cover her head with a straw hat, and be out in the fields to help Grandpa. He needed help because so many young men had gone to fight in the war and had never come back.
Days were just plain dull, like strips of dried old seaweed. Mieko escaped into her thoughts, building a wall around herself the way a turtle builds its shell. She was always looking back, thinking about home.
Sometimes she scolded the hens to keep them from pecking holes in the paper panes of the sliding doors. Or she watched spiders spin their webs between the rocks underneath the porch. Mieko was like the snail that lumbered slowly toward the shade. Trapped inside and silent.
She would sit on the springy tatami in the living room for hours, studying the scroll painting in the alcove. Grandma changed it with the seasons, so this one showed trees in fall colors, and a poem written with graceful strokes.
I thought I saw the fluttering, leaves arise,
Returning to their branches;
No, it was only butterflies!
Before long, Mieko had memorized the calligraphy and could make a copy of it in her head. She remembered when her own brushstrokes had been good enough to hang on the wall.
Mieko avoided talking with anyone. The few times when Grandma had afternoon tea with a friend, Mieko would escape to the nearby beach. Someone had left a length of huge clay sewer pipe there, and its cool, shadowy interior was her secret hideaway. On the sandy floor she scratched out word-pictures with a stick—Mother, Father, and Home.
The sunshine was sparkling on the blue ocean, fishermen were hanging and mending their nets, sand crabs were skittering across the shore, and sea birds were swooping down for their dinner. But Mieko saw none of it. She couldn't see anything but her own loneliness.
Another letter arrived from Mother, this time for Grandpa and Grandma. Mieko leaned over Grandpa's shoulder as he read parts of it aloud. Mother said they were planning to come to the farm after the New Year holidays and take Mieko home.
Mieko's spirits sank. New Year's Day seemed like years away instead of just a few months.
There was a special note at the end for her:
Mieko dear, is your hand still very painful? By now you must be writing with a pencil. How is the brush-painting coming along? You heven't yet told us about school. Write soon.
 
Love,
Mother.

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