Saturday.
Test day.
I woke up with a queasy feeling, but I got out of bed and brushed my teeth. It was only six-thirty, and no one else was awake. When school started again in four days, everyone would be getting up that early. (The thought of school made me even queasier.)
I crept downstairs. I felt a little stiff, but my tailbone didn’t hurt too much. Bear got up off her rug and whined, so I opened the back door. I followed her out to the yard.
The wet grass was cool against my feet. It was quiet, and the air smelled new, like the night had scrubbed everything clean. I turned and closed my eyes. The sun warmed my face, and I took a deep breath and held it as long as I could. My queasy feeling went away.
Bear began to bark, and I opened my eyes to find her sitting in front of me.
“Sorry, girl,” I said, laughing. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”
Bear stayed planted.
“Go play, you silly dog. You’ve got this whole big yard.”
Hmm. Big yard . . . I had plenty of space. And no one was looking except Bear.
I inhaled slowly and lowered my hands into ready position. Then I did kicho il bo. It was the first time I’d done it for real (not in my head) in almost a week. I moved slowly, thinking about the wet grass and my tender tailbone.
It wasn’t as powerful as normal, but I did it.
“Hey, girl!” I said to Bear. “Did you see that?”
Bear barked and ran after a bird. While she played, I tried out a few more moves. I could block and punch and kick. I even tried my push kick. My tailbone didn’t hurt too much as long as I was careful.
Bear and I stayed out a bit longer and played catch with an old tennis ball. When we finally went back inside, I was surprised to see Dad standing in the kitchen, arranging vitamin bottles on the sink windowsill.
“Give me a second, and I’ll get your medicine,” he said when he saw me.
“Okay.”
I leaned against the table and waited as Dad poured himself coffee. I tried to come up with the perfect way to convince him my tailbone was healed enough for me to take the test.
The weird thing was, it didn’t take much convincing.
“Today’s the big day, huh?” Dad asked. “Do you think you’re up for it?”
“Yes,” I said.
Dad studied me for a moment. “Alrighty then. I’d better make you a good breakfast. How about pancakes?”
“Dad’s making pancakes?” Mom said, walking in. “What’s the occasion?”
“Test day,” I told her.
Mom put her hands on her hips, looked at Dad, and then back at me.
“I thought we settled this,” she said. “You can’t test with a bruised tailbone.”
“But it’s okay now,” I told her. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Eliza, sweetie . . .” Mom started.
“I want to, Mom.”
Dad handed Mom a cup of coffee. “She’s worked hard. What’s the harm in letting her try?” he asked her. “If she thinks she’s up for it, maybe we should trust her.”
Mom moved to the fridge to grab some milk for her coffee. “So apparently I’m being ganged up on here.” She was trying to sound like she was joking, but I could tell she was unhappy.
“Honey,” Dad told her gently, “she’s kept her end of the bargain.”
Mom knitted her eyebrows and looked at me.
“I promise I’ll stop if it hurts,” I told her. “But I need to try. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder if I could’ve done it.”
Mom walked across the kitchen, and put her arm around my shoulders. “Man, you’re getting mature,” she said. “And tall! When did that happen?”
“I don’t know. When you weren’t paying attention?”
I meant it as a joke, but Mom’s eyes got all teary.
“Fine,” she said, pulling out a smile. “I guess it’s pancakes all around for test day.”