I didn’t know which was weirder. Having Hirohito see me in my pajamas or not having any chores to do. I tried to wash dishes and always offered to mop the floor, but for the fifth day in a row, Mrs. Woods said, “Go outside. Play.”
I felt like a watcher while Hirohito chased Vonetta and Fern around. I sat on the porch with my book in my lap, glad I’d brought it along. In between turning pages, I’d peek at Vonetta, Fern, and Hirohito playing Mother May I or freeze tag. He knew just how to escape their tags and keep the game going. I could see why Hirohito put up with Vonetta and Janice at the Center. Why he let Fern chase him and tag him “it” when she wasn’t fast enough to catch him. Hirohito had no brothers or sisters. He liked being a brother to my sisters and me.
Grateful that Hirohito would soon tire his “sisters” out, I settled into my book on the porch. I could finish the chapter before it was time to come inside. I read my book, bright eyed, breathing heavily, and rooted for Rontu to win against the pack of wild dogs, his former brothers. Get ’em, Rontu. Get ’em. I didn’t hear the quiet. That the sounds of playing in the yard had stopped. I looked up, and they were all standing around me with Hirohito’s go-kart.
“Hey. Delphine.”
Vonetta and Fern giggled. Obviously they were a part of Hirohito’s plan to sneak up on me. He smiled, pleased to have caught me unaware.
“Want to try out my go-kart?”
I rolled my eyes and tried to appear older. Above playing kid games. “Me? On that thing?”
Vonetta and Fern started screaming that they wanted a ride.
He tapped my sneaker with one of his doggedy high-tops. “It’s fun. You’ll like it.”
Before this week I would have said, “How do you know what I’d like?” My goal to come off bored and older slipped right out from under me. Inside, I felt like I was being pulled onto the sixth-grade dance floor. I wanted to give him my hand and let him pull me up, but I felt too big. Tree limbed. Plain faced. I’d probably look silly on that go-kart, just like I’d look silly matching steps with some boy in the multipurpose room at school.
I glanced down at that sawed-off piece of wood resting on top of a metal frame with skate wheels up front. Tricycle wheels in the back. A rope on one end, a carpet square on the other. I had never seen Hirohito sit on the carpet square. He always rode belly down, arms spread out, and hands gripping the T bar. It was a wonder he wasn’t all scarred up.
“Boy, you must be crazy.”
“Stop being chicken. You can steer it. Those legs’ll reach the turn bar easy. Just hold on to the rope and keep it steady.”
Vonetta and Delphine snickered at Hirohito’s carefree choice of words.
I couldn’t hit him for calling me a long-legged chicken after I had gobbled down his mother’s fish and rice. I said, “I am not getting on your street roller. No way.”
Instead of saying “Not on your street roller coaster” or “Yeah. No way, Jose,” my sisters’ voices failed to come to my rescue. Instead, Vonetta and Fern—mostly Vonetta—screamed and danced around us, pleading to take my turn on the go-kart.
Hirohito shook his head, sorely disappointed, like he was Papa. “I didn’t think you were scared, Delphine.”
“I am not scared of that thing.” My voice hit notes it was not known for reaching.
“Then come on.”
“No.”
“Chicken.”
“I am not.”
He offered the rope to me and patted the carpet seat. “Just a block. Not even a hill.”
I couldn’t let him think I was weak and scared. Girl pride and a lower voice said, “I’m not afraid of no hill.”
Before I knew it, we had become a merry parade. Me sitting on the go-kart, my feet on the bars, Hirohito behind me pushing, and Vonetta and Fern at the rear, parading up Magnolia Street. What a sight. I sat hunched over, holding on to the rope, my big sneakers on the turn bar. All I could do was wrap the rope tighter around my hands and pray.
How could I find my balance, let alone trust it? Surely balance was needed to ride on that rolling cart of danger. Where was my good common sense? The common sense that Big Ma always pointed out I was born with. I was mad at myself for letting this happen. Letting them push me into riding down some hill on this wooden, bumpy, hotrod roller. I could fall over on my butt. Scrape every inch of skin on my legs, arms, and hands. I could look a stupid, scraped-up, tangled-up mess, and on top of it all, scream like a fraidycat in front of my sisters.
I hugged the rope. My heart pounded through my ears, down in my toes.
None of that concerned anyone on the parade route. Hirohito pushed happily. My sisters skipped, clapped, and sang. They might as well have been singing “Crash, Delphine. Crash.”
Then Hirohito stopped pushing. Now the tips of my fingers pounded. We were at the top. The very, very top of the hill.
Hirohito looked at me like this was all fine. Not like he was getting me back for being mean to him. My knees would knock if they weren’t frozen. I wanted to get up and walk away.
“Don’t worry. It’s safe,” he said. “My dad built it. It’s sturdy and has no splinters. He sanded it down for days. Good job, right?”
“Right,” I said.
“I helped him.” He turned the T part so it swiveled. “Real axle for the turns. It’s good for racing. But don’t worry,” he said again. “You just have to go straight. Keep it steady.” He nodded and smiled. “My dad’s great.”
I doubted he meant to get all girly talking about his father. He caught himself and changed his voice.
“Ready, Delphine?”
I didn’t answer.
He said, “Use your sneakers to slow down, then stop. Just drag.” Then he lifted my foot and put it in the right position. The position that would turn the heels of my sneakers as doggedy as his. “Remember, you don’t have to steer. It’s a straight ride down. Just slide your sneaker like this.” He moved my foot slightly sideways. It was a wonder he had soles at all.
He told me to hold on tight. Then he ordered Vonetta and Fern to come on as if he had taken my place as the oldest. Part of me didn’t like it one bit. The other part didn’t have time to think about that.
“Push!”
Vonetta and Fern screamed, “Yay!” and I looked up, mad, scared, thrilled.
I felt six hands on my back and the bumpy ground beneath me. With all that rumbling, my head spun with the sheer craziness of it all. Being pushed down the street. My sisters and Hirohito cheering and pushing and letting go and time not ticking but racing away.
It was too late. Too late to jump off while the go-kart rolled, its steel skate wheels hitting every bump and pebble on the sidewalk. I leaned left and right, trying to find my balance. Then forward. Left, right, and forward, my drawn-up knees helping to keep me steady.
There was a curve in the sidewalk. Not exactly straight, like Hirohito told me. To me it was winding, and dangerous like the Chinatown dragon. As the go-kart went faster, I felt the rumbling of the wheels hitting the concrete underneath me. I screamed. So loud I startled myself. I had never heard myself scream. Screamed from the top of my lungs, from the pit of my heart. Screamed like I was snaking and falling. Screamed and hiccupped and laughed like my sisters. Like I was having the time of my life, flying down that glorious hill.
Vonetta, Fern, and Hirohito had run after me, but Hirohito had outrun my sisters and met me at the other end. When we were all together, Hirohito led the parade of him, Vonetta, and Fern, hooting and dancing around me.