Chapter 20

WAVES

sixth graders are in charge

of the bowling stall

at the Games and Play Day

coming up in mid-November

we’ve collected plastic bottles

decorated them with colored tape

so little kids can knock them

over with tennis balls, and now

we spend a whole class

arguing over the rules

while Ōshima-sensei

grades our homework

 

without thinking, I speak up

I suggest we create prizes

because that’s how it worked

at my school in the U.S. once

when the PTA held a fair

but Shunta whacks me

and Mika laughs too loud

saying we don’t need prizes

everyone just plays to play

so I keep quiet the rest of the day

we have two weeks to plan what to put

on the signs, how to arrange plastic bottles

and distances for lines for different age kids

all of which could be done in an hour

if everyone just stopped arguing

I’ve decided

I won’t contribute

won’t say a word

they can do without my help

at recess I don’t go outside

I just read manga in the library

 

this week it’s raining

when I pick up Cora

from the after-school center

and find her in the main room

throwing cushion blocks

at three other kids

she’s out of breath

from chasing kids

to whack them

and from escaping

being whacked

outside trudging up the hill

wrestling with our umbrellas

in wind that’s blowing rain

exactly sideways she says

she had to play that way

she’d tried drawing

but kids kept hitting her

I’m tired and thirsty she says

what’s our adventure?

 

this time I really don’t know

since it’s raining

and I didn’t plan on rain

only good weather

in which case I’d planned to

               cross the bridge to the island

               walk up to the shrine

               maybe as far as the

               supposed dragon cave

as we eat bananas and rice crackers

we watch TV weather

               satellite images

               precipitation projections

               and warnings

               about waves

when I see six meters for our coast

I watch the whole report again

paying close attention

because now I see a typhoon

in the corner of the screen

moving toward us

pushing rain, and wind, and waves—

               and I know what our adventure will be

 

rain suits

I say to Cora

and she looks at me funny

I say six-meter waves

we’ve got to see them

we’re not supposed to go to the beach

even in good weather! she says

I pull on my rain pants and jacket

that Mom bought for our hikes

we won’t go onto the beach I say

just a high place for watching waves

boots she suggests

but neither of us has boots that fit

so we pull on the rain suits

and our already wet sneakers

 

we unlock our bikes

and coast downhill

with typhoon rain

pelting our faces

along the streetcar line

we are practically

the only ones

out on bicycles

and we are definitely

the only ones

out on the road

by the beach

where the wind

               slams us

full force

   wobbling

  our bikes

 

we pedal down

the coast road sidewalk

but I hadn’t counted on

rain lashing us

so hard it hurts

at the crossing light

we fight against gusts

walking our bikes across the road

to the landing of concrete stairs

that lead down to the beach

and there, high above sand

and waves that we can barely see

we hold our handlebars

in the punching

howling wind

 

below us, surf

pounds the beach

so hard it’s like being

inside thunder

salt spray

tropical wind

and rain

slap us

and just

standing there

               or trying to

we’re nearly

drowning

 

Cora shouts, but I can’t hear

so we turn our bikes around

on that beach stair landing

               and there

by the crossing light

in an oversized

clear plastic raincoat

               is a kid

he’s wearing flip flops

and his raincoat

flaps and snaps wildly

               and under the raincoat

he’s wearing shorts

a sweatshirt

and I think

               binoculars

 

he presses the crossing button

and when the light changes

the wind

thrusts us all

                              fast across the road

we don’t ride

just push our bikes

to escape that beach

the gusting salt

rain and sand

and when we turn inland

to the main street

between buildings

I shout to Cora

you okay?

she nods

but she’s frowning

and her eyes say

this is so NOT

a good adventure

 

the boy steps around us

shouts above the wind this way!

and beyond a noodle shop

he leads us off the road

to a streetcar crossing

that doesn’t have a gate

we’re so wet and nearly drowned

that we follow, watching

and listening for trains

as I carry my bike

and the kid carries Cora’s bike

over the streetcar rails

he motions for us to

lean them against a wall

then beckons for us to follow

through a tile-roofed gate

and suddenly we are in a garden

and the big gate door

               is latching behind us

image