CHAPTER 4
A SPECIAL BELT

“Are you okay?” Emilio asked me after class.

A couple kids leaving the studio smirked when they saw me. I felt my cheeks burn.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I replied.

“Everyone is still getting used to the kicks,” Emilio continued. “They come a little easier to me because of soccer. Maybe you just need some extra practice.”

I knew Emilio was trying to comfort me, but it was making me feel even worse. Everything seemed so easy for him. “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped.

Emilio looked hurt, but this time he took the hint. He left me alone the whole car ride home.

As soon as Mom parked the car, I hopped out and ran up to my room. I threw my bag onto the floor and collapsed face-first onto my bed.

“Ugh,” I groaned into my pillow. I couldn’t stop replaying the fall in my head. The BAM! when I hit the mat. The concerned look on Master Kim’s face. The laughter from the other kids.

Why can’t I be like Emilio? I thought. I’m the one who’s Korean. Shouldn’t I be a natural at Korean martial arts?

Something sticking out of my bag caught my eye. I sat up and grabbed the bag, quickly unzipping it. There, tucked halfway in, was a black belt. But it wasn’t like any black belt I’d seen before. This one had beautiful gold patterns embroidered into the fabric.

“Wow,” I whispered. “Where did this come from?”

Maybe someone had accidentally dropped it in my bag? But everyone else in my class wore a white belt. I ran my fingers across the black fabric. I would give it to Master Kim tomorrow so that it could be returned to its owner. But for now…

It couldn’t hurt to try it on, I thought.

I wrapped the belt around my waist and tried to tie it in a knot like Master Kim had shown me. Then I walked over to the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked like a true tae kwon do master.

Maybe I’ll try one kick, I thought.

I swung my leg out for a side kick. Whoosh! My leg snapped into position on its own.

“Whoa!” I gasped.

My form was perfect! The kick was so strong, it had even made a sound.

I kicked again and again, and every time, it was perfect. The kicks were nothing like what I’d done in class earlier. I was perfectly balanced, and my leg was straight, just like Master Kim’s had been. I was even able to quickly do a few in a row.

I stretched my arm out to do a cross punch. Whoosh! My arm shot away from my body.

“Hana, dul,” I counted, doing two punches in a row. Each one felt strong and powerful. I couldn’t believe I was the one punching.

“How…” I started.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror again. The only thing that was different was… the black belt. But the black belt couldn’t possibly be the reason for my suddenly amazing skills. Could it?

I decided to test my theory. I took off the belt and tried a kick. My legs felt wobbly. I quickly put the belt back on. When I kicked again, it was perfect.

I kept going, watching myself in the mirror. My punches and kicks looked as good as Emilio’s—maybe even better. A smile spread across my face as I thought about showing off my new skills to everyone in class.

I had never believed in magic before I’d started at my new school. But after what had happened with my lunch box, I knew it was a real possibility. I didn’t understand how I had gotten a magic black belt—or how it improved my tae kwon do skills—but it didn’t matter. If this worked, I didn’t care. I only cared that no one would laugh at me anymore.

“Ben, time for dinner!” Mom called from downstairs.

“One second!” I shouted back.

I glanced at my reflection once more before taking off the belt. I stuffed it under all the other junk in my bag. Then I went downstairs to the kitchen.

Mmm. The yummy smell of kalbi—Korean grilled ribs—filled the air.

“Do you want to try practicing some more tae kwon do with me after dinner?” Dad asked as we set the table.

Thirty minutes ago, I would have said no. But now things were different.

“Sure!” I agreed. “Maybe I’ll even be better than you.”

I crossed my arms and smiled, challenging Dad. With my new belt, anything was possible.

Dad chuckled. “You seem extra confident today,” he said. “Just remember, I used to be a black belt.”

He gave a kick to demonstrate, but his leg accidentally bumped against the table, knocking over the bowls and cups.

“Appa,” I said with a face palm.

Mom groaned, rolling her eyes. “That’s why you don’t show off.”

“Oops,” Dad said with an embarrassed smile.

After dinner, I ran up to my room and put the black belt on under my shirt so Dad wouldn’t notice. Then I met him in the living room to practice.

Dad held up a pillow again for me to kick.

“Okay, give me your best shot,” he said.

I sucked in a breath. Would the belt work? I hoped so. I raised my leg and aimed.

“Whoa!” The impact of my kick sent Dad back a few steps. His eyes widened. “That was a strong kick, Ben!”

I put my hands on my hips like a superhero. The belt really was magic!

Dad ruffled my hair. “How did you improve so much?”

I hesitated. I knew the truth—it was the black belt. In a way, wearing it felt like cheating. But Dad seemed so proud. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“I practiced extra hard,” I lied.

“Well, it’s paying off,” Dad said.

He and I practiced a little longer. Every time I did a kick or punch, Dad looked surprised.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” he finally said, putting the pillow down. He slumped onto the couch. “I need a break!”

I ran upstairs to my room and took off the black belt. Looking at it, I felt a little guilty. But wearing it was finally making me good at tae kwon do. That settled it.

“No more embarrassments,” I said and tucked the belt into my bag.