Daisuke Adam Eto_
13th December 1992 was the day. The day my mother left my father in Japan and moved back to the States, where she claimed that only then, can we can be a family, she and I. Everything happened so fast, too fast. Too fast that I could not feel the bitterness of a divorce.
I reminisced the night my parents made me sit down in the living room with them. They were sitting opposite me, explaining why they are getting a divorce and how we are going to deal with it. The explanation did not shock me in any way. I took it in quite manly. I mean, it's not a surprise, really. I could see it in my mother's eyes how she hates it whenever my father informed her about how important his work is and that he needed longer hours. Goodbye to family dinners, birthday parties and wedding anniversaries. Anyways, my father's never comfortable whenever my mother wanted to express a little love for him. Divorce was in the air all the time.
"We just grew apart... moved on," my mother was saying with a signature Texas twang in her voice while my father just nodded like how all Japanese do. I was looking right through them, focusing my attention to the window behind them, drifting away into the night sky. I could almost feel myself floating into the open sky and see the first snowflake of winter gracefully fall from the heavens.
It drifted downwards in the form of a paper plane that increased in speed and struck my head. I jerked back into reality as the other boys laughed out loud. Still trying to get my bearings, Mrs. Davidson threw her arms into the air and shouting, "Is this how you boys treat your new classmate?!"
The bell rung and everyone scattered out into the hallway. But not me. I stared at the classroom door like it was a door to hell and beyond. Loud chatters and slamming of locker doors filled the atmosphere. Mrs. Davidson watched me and said "Go on, boy. They don't bite!" and so I started to the door with much confidence. She's right, I thought, closed the door behind me and walked to my locker. I told myself, 10-year-olds won't kill me, and I was so wrong!
"Ha! Dai-suker! Suker! Die!" shouted Barry, the chubbiest boy I've seen. I always thought that his body was too big for a 5th grader. He looked like a sumo wrestler to me. I shrunk into a mouse, as if being half-Asian did not make me tinier than the rest of the boys. "Get ready to be mush!" yelled Barry as he charged towards me with his vile company.
My legs were planted into the ground for some unexplainable reason. My reflex was to run but instead my mouth opened and I screamed. Screamed till every pocket of air in my lungs was thrown out. My vision blurred and my head start swirled. An oozing blackness closed in, tightened the corners of my vision. I heard myself crash against the lockers, then quiet and sank into silence.
I awoke amid something soft and comfortable. Felt as though I could lie there forever. I could hear women talking in the background. One of them sounded worried and the other assured. My vision still in a blur but I could tell that someone with dark black hair was staring at me. Dad? I wondered, trying to lift my finger to touch his face. "He's awake!" called the being looking at me and I knew that wasn't my father but a boy.
A shadow hovered over me. This time a lady with the soft red and brown curls. Her touch, soft but firm, pulled me into a tight embrace. Her scent assured me that that was my mother and I finally felt safe. I blinked a few times and my vision cleared. My eyes scanned my surroundings. A sparkling marble floor was below my mother's feet and around her, antique furniture, golden vases and Chinese artwork. Where am I?
My mother pulled me away to face me, "I was so worried about you! If it weren't for Principal Slimmer..." She turned to face a lady dressed in a dark suit and French-twisted black hair. I blinked in disbelief as all this while I thought the principal was a man, not a woman.
"It's fine, really. I actually thought Daisuke saved himself. I was on the second floor when I heard his scream. That was some vocal!" said Principal Slimmer. She looked down at me and winked, "I think you have talent, young man. You should consider leaving that terrible school and go to my school."
Wait! Your school? I am confused...
"But it's a private school. I don't think I can afford to send my son there." My mother butt into the conversation before I could say anything foolish, gripping my wrist firmly. I could tell she was anxious to leave before she breaks down and cry. After the divorce, she was in pieces. She only had enough money to pay the rent and the bills, but not for my education. At times, she couldn't face me.
"Oh look at the time, we must go" said my mother, pulling me along in a hurry. Principal Slimmer was as puzzled I was but take my mother's behavior as the lifestyle of the working woman, always on the go. She acted quickly too and quietly slipped a card into my free hand when my mother wasn't looking. I felt the material of the card between my fingers, thick and had the smell of "high-quality" all the way.
Principal Slimmer quickly informs my mother that she will still be visiting my school in search of talented students next week. As my mother thanked her over and over, my attention focused on a boy with dark hair, wearing basketball shorts and a shirt with the badge of the private school that matched the one on the card in my hands. He sat on the stairs and smiled as I left.
Once we left the house, I got it clear why my mother was in such a rush. We had to catch the 6 p.m. bus to go home. On the bus, my mother was too exhausted that she closed her eyes along the journey. Putting on a little innocent tone I asked, "Mom, who was the boy sitting on Principal Slimmer's stairs?"
"Hmm... who, dear?"
"The boy at that house. Who's he?"
"Oh! That's Teddy. He's the Principal's son. Nice boy, he's a nice boy..." Her eyelids shut and she dozed off. I slipped the hidden card from under my sleeve and admire it once again. The prints, beautiful and in gold. I mouthed the golden words, HARRINGTON PRIVATE SCHOOL.
