And for the first time, I see what Manga Girl actually looks like.
19
A Supreme Ordeal
“No! Don’t!” Manga Girl jumps away, as if Todd has dumped ice water on her head.
I’ve never, ever seen Manga Girl without a hat. Even in PE, when everyone else has to take off their hats, she has special permission to wear hers. I know she has medium-long, curly black hair because it always sticks out around the edges. But what has she been hiding? A big birthmark? A hideous scar from a dog bite? Can a person really have horns?
So when Todd yanks the fox hood off her head, I hold my breath with anticipation.
Then I sigh with disappointment. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing wrong. She looks totally normal. Her hair is black and curly, just like I knew, she has two ears, which are shaped the way ears are supposed to be shaped, and there’s nothing growing out the top of her head.
She catches me staring. Her hands fly to cover her head. Her eyes well with tears. She darts into the next aisle, out of view. And then we hear sounds of muffled crying.
We stand there for a while, unsure what to do. Todd’s holding the raccoon and fox hats. A cord dangles from each. So that’s how she moves the ears. Mystery solved!
“Why’s she crying?” he asks us. He looks as confused as Tutu does when I wake her up in the middle of a nap.
“Todd, you know she always wears a hood,” I tell him. We keep our voices low. “She’s never without one. And you just ripped that right off her head. There must be a reason why she wears them.”
“What’s the reason?” he asks. We both look at Autumn.
Autumn shrugs. “I don’t know. When did I become this group’s psychologist?”
Todd’s shoulders slump. “I was just playing a game.”
I point to the fox hat. “She’d probably like to have that back.”
“Yeah, okay.” He walks around the end of the aisle. Autumn and I follow. So does William. Manga Girl’s sitting on the floor in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. An Iron Man cutout looms next to her. She looks so different without a hat. Even though her hair’s smooshed down on top from wearing the fox hat, she’s still pretty. But seriously, she’s the second person to cry at my sleepover. That means that almost half the people at my sleepover have cried. I sure hope the Haileys don’t hear that statistic.
Todd lays the fox hat at her feet. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Manga Girl stops hugging her knees. “Yeah, okay,” she grumbles. She’s not crying anymore. She grabs the fox hat and sticks it back on her head. Then she arranges her cape so it hangs over her shoulders.
“Why’d you freak out?” Todd asks.
She crisscrosses her legs. “Because now you know the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That I don’t have horns.”
I gasp. “You know people say that about you?”
“Of course.” She points to the fabric ears. “I listen, remember.”
Right. The eavesdropping thing. But something doesn’t make sense. “You don’t want people to see your head because you want people to think you have horns?”
“Sure. Or pointed ears, or a gaping hole. Whatever. It gives me an interesting story. It gives me a supreme ordeal. Otherwise, I’m boring.” She readjusts the hat. “I started wearing hoods in kindergarten because I liked it. We all wore costumes back then, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Todd says. “There was this pair of Batman pajamas that I wore everywhere.”
“Me too,” Autumn says, “only it wasn’t Batman pajamas. It was a Snow White princess dress.”
“I had a green fairy skirt that I loved so much I even wore it to bed,” I recall.
“Well, that’s when Uncle Galaxy got me reading Critter League,” Manga Girl explains. “Whenever those girls put on their hats, they get superpowers. I wanted to be like them, so I started wearing their hats.”
“How come the teachers don’t make you take them off?” I ask.
“Because I’m the one who started the rumor about the horns.” She smiles proudly. “The teachers seem too embarrassed to ask me about it, so no one ever tells me to take the hats off.”
I try to wrap my head around Manga Girl’s confession. All this time we thought she had some kind of freakish deformity. And she wanted us to think that. She wanted people to believe she was different in a weird way. That made her stand out, made her less boring. She wanted to create her own story and make it fantastical.
I think I can relate. I want to create my own story, too, but it’s not working out the way I planned. “You have pretty hair,” I tell her. “You should let people see it. I’d kill to have hair like yours.” Which is totally true. Mine is so straight nothing makes it wavy—not an iron, not curlers. Tutu says my hair is as slick as a monk seal’s back.
“Thanks?” Manga Girl looks surprised that I complimented her.
“And I don’t think you’re boring,” Todd tells her. “You’re a published artist. That’s cool!” William nods.
“Is that why you always sit in the corner?” Autumn asks.
Manga Girl gets to her feet. “If I’m in the corner, no one can sneak up on me and pull off my hat.” She straightens her cape. “But now the secret’s out of the bag. I suppose you’ll all go back to school and tell everyone.”
“No, we won’t,” Todd says.
Will I spread Manga Girl’s secret, or will I keep it? I want to think about that for a moment, but Manga Girl doesn’t give me the chance. She walks to the counter and grabs a pack of Hi-Chew candy, cherry flavored. “This is my ingredient.”
Have none of these people ever eaten soup? Popcorn and candy?
“Hey, Uncle Galaxy,” Manga Girl calls. “We’re going now.”
“Already?” he asks as he steps out of his office. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yeah.” She holds up the candy.
Uncle Galaxy chuckles. “Your favorite. I should have guessed. Okay, good luck with the rest of your scavenger quest,” he says as he opens the front door for us. But once we’re on the sidewalk, he calls, “Wait.” He hands the Captain America shield to William. “You keep this. Silence may be golden, but every once in a while, it needs to be shattered.”
William looks at him and nods.
Manga Girl sticks the pack of Hi-Chew into Todd’s backpack.
“Who’s next?” Todd asks.
For the first time since leaving our apartment building, William takes the lead. He starts walking down the street, real fast, like he has something important to do. Manga Girl follows.
Todd shrugs. “Guess he’s next.”
I admit, I’m dying to see William’s special place. So far, the scavenger hunt has been eye-opening, that’s for sure.
It’s dinnertime, and that miniature Snickers isn’t going to hold me much longer. Can you eat uncooked pasta right from the box? Even the used popcorn is starting to sound good.
It’s definitely dark now, but lots of people are out, and most of the shops are still open, so it doesn’t feel dangerous. But it’s getting cold, and my thin raincoat won’t be enough if it gets much colder. Todd’s only wearing basketball shorts and a T-shirt, but he doesn’t complain. Manga Girl’s wrapped up in her cape. She looks warm. And Autumn’s parka is zipped to her chin, the hood nestled around her face.
“Hey, William,” I call after five blocks of walking. “We agreed not to leave the neighborhood, remember?” He doesn’t turn around. Shield in hand, he walks even faster. His outfit makes no sense—a fur hat, a plaid coat, and now a plastic shield. I really hope Mom won’t force me to spend more time with him. She likes inviting neighbors over for pineapple upside-down cake. She’ll probably do that with William and his mom, just to be nice. But one-sided conversations are simply no fun.
“That was a really good idea about the shield, don’t you think?” Todd asks Autumn.
“It could potentially
work.”
“This whole night has been great,” he says. “I got to practice shooting baskets in front of a crowd. William has something to help him talk. And Manga Girl found out that we like her even though she’s normal.”
I’m not ready to be added to the “We like Manga Girl” list. It doesn’t matter to me if she wears a hat or a frying pan on her head. She still drew that mean cartoon, and she still hasn’t apologized. But I do understand how she feels—how she wants to be noticed.
Deep in thought, I slow my pace and fall behind. Todd and Autumn walk ahead of me. They look funny together. She’s half his height. Hey, why are Autumn and Todd walking together? Is he laughing? This could be serious. If Todd and Autumn start dating, then I’ll have to see Todd all the time. They’ll eat lunch together. They’ll hang out after school. She’ll want to go to his games. I’ll be a third wheel, and then I’ll lose …
I’ll lose the only friend I have.
I push between them. “Hey, Todd, are you and Hailey Chun friends?”
“Sure, I guess. We talk sometimes at school.”
“Really? Will you tell her that I’m nice?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, Leilani. Are you nice?”
I gasp. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m nice.”
“Seems to me that putting people on a ‘DO NOT invite’ list isn’t nice.”
“Are you still mad about that?” I wave my hand through the air, as if brushing the whole thing away. “It was just a silly mix-up.” I’m about to say Right, Autumn?, but when I look over at her, she looks away. She doesn’t like lying about stuff.
We pass a Thai restaurant. My stomach growls. “So, Todd, are you having fun at my sleepover?”
“Sure.”
I dart in front of him and start walking backward. “Then will you tell Hailey Chun that I have amazing sleepovers and she should come to the next one?”
“She told you she didn’t want to,” he says.
“But maybe you can convince her, since you two are friends.”
He and Autumn stop walking. He folds his arms. “Look, Leilani. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell Hailey that you’re nice and she should come to your sleepover if you admit I’m your cousin.”
“Okay. You’re my cousin.”
“No, you have to do it at school, in front of everyone.”
“What? Why?”
“Forget it.” He starts walking again. Autumn blinks at me.
“Okay, fine,” I say as I whip around. “I’ll—”
Todd, Manga Girl, and William are standing in front of a brick building, staring up at a sign. A bad feeling settles in my stomach, but it isn’t hunger. The sign reads:
Capitol Hill Cat Hospital
20
Beautiful Belle
“Is your cat in there?” I ask.
William nods. He walks up the steps and tries the door, but it’s locked. He starts knocking. Todd, Manga Girl, Autumn, and I watch from the sidewalk. “I’ve seen him carry his cat around, in a carrier,” I tell them. “Her name is Belle.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Manga Girl asks.
“I don’t know. I only saw her a few times. She’s black, with yellow eyes.”
William presses his hand to the door’s windowpane and peers through the glass. It’s dark inside.
“Hey, dude, it’s closed,” Todd calls out. “You want to choose a different place?”
At that moment, a huge shower hits, pouring the way it does in Seattle, like buckets over your head. It’s the kind of rain that passes quickly, but it can soak right through jeans and shoes, so we hurry up the steps and squeeze into the doorway, under the eaves. The big, fat drops ricochet off the sidewalk and make so much noise I can’t even hear the buses and cars as they pass by.
During the shower, William keeps his face pressed to the glass, staring into the hospital’s lobby. Across the street, a few people huddle in a covered bus stop. Others run into a grocery store. About a minute later, the rain stops and I can hear again.
“I hope your cat doesn’t have cancer,” Todd says. He’s standing so close to me my back is pressed up against the wall and his chest is in my face. “My dog got cancer and died.”
“Jeez, Todd, don’t say stuff like that,” I tell him, pushing him away before he realizes that this is the perfect opportunity to trap me in one of his toxic fart clouds. “William’s cat’s not going to die from cancer.” But really, what do I know? As William stands there, looking into the dark hospital, I start to feel sorry for him. It’s bad enough he can’t talk to people, but now his cat is sick. What if she does die? What would that do to him?
I’ve never had a cat or a dog. Mom says that her work schedule is too busy for a pet. But when I was eight, I begged and begged, and finally she let me get a hamster. He was cute, with a black face and a white spot on his butt. I named him Spot, and even though he made my room smell funky, I really liked watching him waddle on his wheel. Autumn and I built mazes for him, out of books, but it didn’t matter if there was a piece of lettuce at the end of the maze, or a cookie, he still only waddled at one speed—super slow.
But then, two months after I bought him, he died. Just like that. I found him in the corner of his cage. I never cried so hard in my life. Mom was working an odd day shift, so Tutu put Spot into an empty coconut macaroon box, and we went to the pet store. “We want our money back,” she told the manager.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“The mouse died after two months,” Tutu told him.
He opened the box. “I’m very sorry. But this isn’t a mouse. It’s a hamster, and like most rodents, they don’t live very long.”
Tutu stomped over to the hamster cages and pointed an angry finger. “I don’t see any warning signs on these cages—‘Warning, these things don’t live long!’ Why don’t you tell people that? So girls, like my granddaughter, won’t get their hearts broken!”
He gave us back the money. And a coupon for a new hamster. But we didn’t get one. I didn’t want to feel that sad ever again.
I stand next to William and peer through the glass. The reception room is dark, but light trickles under the doorway at the end of the hall. “Hey, someone might be back there,” I say. I start knocking. Manga Girl starts knocking, too. Then Todd and Autumn join us. We’re pounding so loud I worry a passerby might call the police.
The hallway door flies open, and a man in jeans and a white shirt darts out. He squints at us, then hurries up the hall. When he opens the front door, I’m sure he’s going to yell at us for making so much noise. “What do you…?” He pauses when he sees William. “Oh, hi, William. Are you here to visit Belle?”
William nods.
“She’s sleeping right now. But … why don’t you kids come in out of the cold?”
Our sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor. It smells gross in here, like cleaning spray and kitty litter. It’s warm, though, and that’s nice, but my heart starts pounding because I really don’t like hospitals. I hate them. It doesn’t matter if they’re for people or cats. They’re places where things die. Tutu was in the hospital two years ago with pneumonia. I’ll never forget how she looked lying in that bed, with a tube dripping something into her veins. Mom and I both cried because we were really scared that we were going to lose her. “Don’t worry,” Tutu had said. “Killing me is like trying to bend a coconut tree. It’s a really hard thing to do.”
As we gather in the waiting room, the man turns on a light. “I don’t usually let people in after hours, but”—he puts a hand on William’s shoulder—“I know how much you care about Belle. Go ahead. You know where to find her. But be very quiet. She needs her rest.”
William sets the shield on a bench, then walks down the hall and disappears into the back room.
“I’m Dr. Kevin,” the man says, shaking each of our hands. “It was nice of you to come down here with William.”
“What’s wrong with his cat?” Manga Girl asks.
br /> “Cancer,” the doctor says.
Todd groans. “Crud. I knew it. That’s the worst.”
“Yes, it can be fatal.” Dr. Kevin slides his glasses up his long nose. “Belle had surgery to remove the tumor, and now she’s undergoing chemotherapy to kill any remaining cancer cells. William’s been very dedicated to Belle’s recovery. He catches a taxi and brings her here for treatment.” My eyes widen. So that explains why William always has the cat carrier in the elevator. “He usually takes her home after the treatment, but she didn’t react well to this last round.”
“That sucks,” Todd says.
“Is she going to die?” Manga Girl asks.
“Well, if this last treatment doesn’t stop the cancer, then, yes, she’ll die. She might not even make it through the night.”
“Oh, poor little thing,” Autumn whispers.
“But if she does wake up and start eating, then that will be a very good sign, and we’ll know in a few weeks if the cancer is gone.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Manga Girl asks.
The doctor smiles sadly. “That’s a very nice question, but we’ve done everything medical science knows of. Now it’s up to fate.” He glances down the hallway, then back at us. “William’s lucky to have so many friends. It’s hard to find a good therapy cat. If Belle dies, well, I think he’ll need his friends more than ever.”
I swallow hard. I was feeling pretty bad about the whole cancer thing, but now I feel even worse. We aren’t William’s friends. We barely know him. And I planned on never hanging out with him again. “Therapy cats are hard to find?” I ask.
“Yes, because cats can be tricky.” Dr. Kevin points to a poster on the wall, a photo of an old lady with a cat on her lap. The old lady is in a wheelchair, and both she and the cat are smiling. “Animals help people feel calm. Petting a dog or a cat is a natural way to lower stress, for all of us. Seniors, like the lady in the poster, are often alone, so having a pet makes them feel less lonely. And a pet can help lower anxiety. Dogs work well as therapy pets because they are naturally social. They want to interact with humans. But cats are difficult because they tend to be aloof and prefer to be solitary. Belle is different because she likes being held. She wants to be by William’s side.”