Cherry Blossom Baseball (11 page)

When Michiko entered the lunch room, the noise of scraping chairs and children talking told her a lot of students had decided not to push their way home through the drifts. Some sat on the floor with their backs to the wall.

“Over here,” Annie called out as she waved from her brother's side. “I saved you a seat.”

Across from them sat Carolyn, Sharon, and Mary.

Michiko plunked her library book on top of the table and her
furoshiki
on top.

“Look at that,” Carolyn said, opening her pink tin lunchbox. “Millie's got a hobo sack.”

Annie looked at the girl with flashing eyes. “It is not,” she said. “It's a furshopiki!”

Michiko smiled at the little girl's mispronunciation.

“All you need is a stick, and you can carry it across your shoulder,” Sharon said.

Michiko lifted her lunch bundle and shoved her library book to one side.

“What's this?” Carolyn asked, seeing the tip of a sheet of paper sticking out from between the pages. She extended a hand of badly painted fingernails.

Michiko pulled the book back just as Carolyn's fingers caught hold of the edge of the paper. She waved the folded paper about in front of her face. “Is it a love note?” Carolyn looked at Billy, who munched away on his sandwich. “Billy, are you putting love notes into Millie's library books?”

Annie looked at her brother in astonishment.

“Shut up, Carolyn,” Billy said through a mouthful of bread and jam.

“Millie and Billy sitting in a tree,” Carolyn chanted.

Sharon joined in, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Mary took the paper from Carolyn, opened it, and gasped.

“Is it really a love note?” Sharon asked with glee.

“It's beautiful,” Mary said, turning the paper for all to see. “Did you draw it?”

Carolyn leaned in. Her eyes went from the sketch to Michiko and back again with the unblinking attention of a hawk watching a mouse. “You copied it from a magazine,” she said.

Michiko reached across the table and took the sketch back. “It's my little brother.” She turned the paper for Annie to see. “He was watching the snow plough when I drew it.”

Annie took the drawing and held it out for Billy to see.

“I've seen her little brother,” Billy told Carolyn. “It looks just like him.”

“Can I have it?” Annie asked.

Michiko shook her head, took the folded the paper, and put it back inside the book. “It's just a sketch,” she said. “When I get some paints, I'm going to finish it.”

“You should ask the teacher if you can work on it in art class,” Mary said. “It's good.”

“Too good,” Carolyn said, packing up her half-eaten lunch. “She traced it.”

Michiko's cheeks burned red, but she felt a tingle of excitement knowing Mary liked her drawing. If she could just find a way to spend time with her without Carolyn around. She opened her package of wax paper and removed a rice ball.

“Ugh,” Carolyn said. “What are you eating?”

Michiko placed a tiny white ball rolled in sesame seeds in the palm of her hand for all to see.

“Get it away,” Carolyn shouted as she shoved her metal lunch pail across the table.

Michiko's rice balls bounced and scattered across the floor, and her apple rolled under a chair.

“Oops,” Carolyn said. “Gotta go.” She leaped from the table. Sharon followed, and they both went out the door.

Michiko stared at what was left of her lunch sitting in her hand.

Annie retrieved the apple, blew on it, and placed it in front of Michiko. “She did that on purpose,” she said. “Carolyn's mean.”

Mary lifted the wax paper that held the other half of her sandwich. “Here,” she said, offering it to Michiko. “It's just peanut butter.”

Not wanting to confess she had never tasted peanut butter, Michiko smiled and took it with thanks.

“Do you have to go straight home?” Michiko asked Mary at the end of the school day.

“French lessons on Monday, piano lessons on Tuesday, dance lessons on Wednesday, Four H Club on Thursday,” Mary said, counting each out on a finger.

“Wow,” was all Michiko could say.

“I gotta run,” Mary said. “My piano teacher will be waiting.”

Michiko glanced at her coat hook. “You forgot your scarf,” she said, holding it out to her.

“Thanks,” Mary said, turning back. “My mother says I'd forget my head if it wasn't fastened on.” She wound the scarf about her neck.

Michiko turned back to her hanger to get her coat. On the shelf above Mary's hook sat a familiar brown envelope. She picked up Mary's report card and placed it on the teacher's desk. She couldn't imagine going home without her report card. Her parents would be so furious they'd make her walk all the way back to school to get it.

STRAIGHT AS

M
ichiko
watched as her mother opened her report card. She knew she had As in Science, Arithmetic, Grammar, History, Geography, and Art. It was Physical Education she was worried about. Michiko's throat went dry as her mother studied the mark and the comments.

“
Michiko needs to better apply herself on the equipment
,” Eiko read out loud.

“What equipment?” her father asked. He put down the gardening manual he was studying. She couldn't help noticing how scratched and blistered his hands had become. Michiko looked down at her lap. At first she had been excited to see mats, parallel bars, and the balance beam. Miss Barnhart named each piece of equipment as an older student demonstrated how to use it. The long leather structure, she learned, was called a pommel horse. But every Friday, while the rest of the girls put on their canvas running shoes, Michiko had to remove her shoes and socks in order to participate. Not only was she cold, the wooden springboard was cracked in several places, and she was terrified of getting a splinter.

“What's wrong?” Mary asked the first time Michiko came to a sudden halt at the bottom of the board. “All you have to do is run up to it, bounce, and jump over. Watch.”

Mary ran up to the board, bounced, and soared over the horse.

The rest of the girls took their turns.

Michiko willed herself to run across the gym floor, but the minute her bare feet touched the edge of the rough wood, she stopped.

“It won't bite you,” Carolyn called out. “It's not a real horse.”

“That's enough,” Miss Barnhart called out, but not before the rest of the class laughed.

“Gymnastics equipment,” Michiko said to her parents, coming out of her reverie. “Vaulting over a pommel horse is hard,” she complained. “My body doesn't want to do it.”

“Any grade below A is not acceptable,” her mother said sternly. She put the report back into its envelope.

“If I had a pair of running shoes …” Michiko began, but her mother put up her hand.

“Shoes don't have magical properties,” she said. “You need to make an effort, just as the teacher says. I expect a big improvement.”

Mary was waiting for Michiko when she got off the school bus the next day. “I need to talk to you,” she said, taking Michiko's arm. To her surprise, Mary led her across the playground to where Carolyn waited with Nancy.

“We can work at each other's houses after school,” Carolyn was saying. On seeing Michiko approach, she lowered her schoolbooks and rolled her eyes. “She lives way out on some stupid farm, the very last stop on the bus route.”

B
illy's is the last stop,
Michiko thought but didn't bother to correct her.

“We want you to work with us on our project,” Mary said.

Carolyn shot Mary a look of annoyance.

Michiko's eyes widened with surprise. “You do?”

“You are an artist,” Mary said, drawing her closer into the group. “Of course we want you. That's why we're asking before we get into class.”

Michiko was still in a state of disbelief when they moved into the classroom. She had fully expected to be working on her own.

“There are three categories to choose from,” Miss Barnhart explained, “legends, fairy tales, or tales from history.” She wrote the titles across the chalkboard. “Each group must have at least one boy or girl.”

The class groaned.

“You have the rest of the week to let me know who is in your group.”

At lunch Michiko suggested Billy be part of their group.

“Billy?” Carolyn repeated loudly, making him look up from his comic book and stick out his tongue.

“See,” she said, “he's so rude.”

“But he lives close to me,” Michiko said. “I could work with him at my house, while you work with Mary at hers. We can all meet on Saturday at the library.”

“We have to have a boy,” Mary reminded Carolyn.

Carolyn stared at Billy's yellow hair across the room. “It's bad enough seeing him Monday to Friday. I don't want to have to look at him on Saturday.”

“I'll ask him,” Michiko said as she rose from her seat.

Annie's face lit up when she approached.

“Billy,” Michiko asked, “would you like to work on the project with me?”

Billy looked up from his comic book and shrugged.

“Say yes, Billy,” Annie pleaded. “Millie can come to our house. Say yes.”

“Okay, I guess,” Billy said. “I haven't thought much about it.”

That afternoon, Michiko waited at the bus stop, wiggling her toes inside her boots to keep them warm. Billy was throwing snowballs onto the road.

Carolyn and Mary walked by. “I'm going to ask Richard to join our group,” Carolyn said. “He lives on our street.”

“You can't,” Mary replied. “You know Michiko asked Billy.”

“She can have Billy,” Carolyn said. “You and I can work with Richard and Nancy.”

Mary stopped walking and said something.

“I don't care if she can draw or not,” Carolyn yelled, stamping her foot in the snow. “I'm not going to work with a Jap girl.”

Michiko climbed onto the bus with a heavy heart. Without Carolyn and Mary, it could leave her and Billy working on their own.

Oakville library, on the main street of town, had large picture windows, low tables with comfortable chairs, and walls and walls of books. Several groups of children from Mrs. Barnhart's class were gathered to work on their projects. As it turned out, Mary had stood up to Carolyn and agreed to come and meet with Michiko and Billy after her 4-H Club meeting. Her older brother was to meet her there to drive her home.

It wasn't easy deciding on the people they were going to research. Mary wanted to work on fairy tales so she could write about princesses, and Billy wanted legends so he could tell the story of Paul Bunyan. Betty, who had taken Carolyn's place, couldn't decide.

“If we do people from history,” Michiko suggested, “Mary could do an Indian princess and Billy could find all kinds of heroes.”

When Mary's brother, Eddie, walked into the library late Saturday afternoon, Michiko immediately recognized him as the boy who had given her a lift home from Applegate College. She pulled her book up over face and slid down in her seat.

He walked over to Billy and ruffled his hair. Billy looked up with a giant smile.

“How's the arm?” Eddie asked in a low voice.

Billy leapt to his feet to mimic winding up and making a pitch.

“Hey, sis,” Eddie whispered to Mary as he pulled a paperback novel from his back pocket, “I'll just read until you're ready.” He moved to a comfortable chair near the window.

Michiko lowered the book.

“My brother is so lucky,” Mary said, putting her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. “He doesn't have to go to school in the springtime.”

“What do you mean he doesn't have to go to school?” Michiko asked.

“The government thought up a plan to help out the farmers,” Mary explained. “If you have straight As first and second term, you don't have to go to school for the third term. You can work on a farm. It's called being
expect
or something like that.”

“Exempt?” Michiko asked. “Is that what you mean?”

“That's it,” Mary said with a sigh. “All he has to do is find a farmer to sign his papers, and he works instead of going to school. He also gets a government certificate for a new bicycle, which is what he really wants.”

“My dad might sign,” Billy said. “Men are always quitting to work at the basket factory.” He rubbed his head in thought. “I won't be playing any ball if we don't get help.”

A
t least you get to play ball,
Michiko thought
.
The boys had laughed loudly when she'd said she wanted to play.

Miss Barnhart handed out the project grades, giving each group a copy of her comments.

The four of them were very proud of their project, “Little Trails Through History.” Mary's mother had typed out the stories, and Michiko had done a full-page watercolour for each. Betty had designed the covers with birch bark. Billy hole-punched the covers and the pages, protected them with reinforcements, and put the whole thing together with hinged metal rings.

“
Well chosen stories
,” Betty read out to them, “
excellent ill­ustrations and fine presentation
. Miss Barnhart gave us an A!”

“We got an A?” Mary asked in disbelief.

Billy's eyes shone.

Betty nodded and turned to Michiko with a smile.

“This is absolutely amazing,” Mary said, clapping her hands. “I have never had an A in anything in my entire life.” She paused and thought for a moment. “I've never even had a B.”

She closed her eyes and crossed her hands over her chest. “I'll bet I get a present.”

“Wait until my father sees this. He won't believe it!” Billy said. “I'll get to play ball this summer for sure.”

Betty folded the paper and handed it to Michiko. “Who wants to stand around in a field of dandelions waiting to get hit on the head?”

“My parents will be so grateful,” Mary said, grabbing Michiko's arm as they went out onto the playground. “I always fail arithmetic, and I get Ds in science. They will not believe this!”

Michiko drew Mary over to the school wall. “I didn't know you failed arithmetic,” she said in a low voice. No wonder Mary wasn't in a hurry to take home her report card.

“Didn't you know I was a dummy?” Mary said with a casual laugh. “That's why I get all those other lessons. If I'm not good at school, I gotta be good at something else.”

“You are not a dummy,” Michiko insisted. “You read ten times more stories than we did.”

“I love to read,” Mary said, “but I'm pretty dumb at everything else. That's why I go to this school instead of the other one.”

“What other school?” Michiko asked.

“I used to go to a private school, you know, like Applegate, only mine was for girls.”

“Why did you change?”

“I had to,” Mary said, dragging Michiko away from the wall. “My dad refused to pay for a fancy school when my marks were so low.” She shrugged. “The teachers were happy to see me leave.”