Light From Uncommon Stars(14)
Once they heard that, they added toppings and ordered some wings.
This happened the night after, and after. They ordered vegan pizza. They smoked. They talked about shows they were binge-watching. They smoked. Once in a while, someone would mention some sort of creative project. They’d either dismiss it or say it was badass and fierce, and then they talked and smoked some more.
Evan scratched his beard. “I want to start a crowdfund for a web series—like The Asian Whisperer or something, where I show people all this weird shit that’s here. Kind of a David Attenborough thing.”
“That’s appropriation, Evan.” Skylar said.
“Though it’s not like Asians don’t appropriate other cultures. And besides, they aren’t really people of color people of color.”
“Anyway, I saw this video where someone explains how to explore an Asian supermarket.”
“That’s so badass!”
Katrina found the bathroom and locked the door. She began to itch. She looked in the shower. She wished she hadn’t.
Yet at least the bathroom was quiet. At least she couldn’t hear them talking about Asians, about Mexicans. Katrina sat there, confused.
Yes, queers were not the most stable, and she hadn’t seen Evan in person for two years. But still, hadn’t he told her he thought she was beautiful? Hadn’t Evan told her that they were family?
Finally, Katrina wiped herself, flushed, then washed her hands as best she could, grateful that some parts of her, at least, could be cleaned.
* * *
Of all the times to get careless!
Yes, any teacher or contestant in Arcadia that day would have known “Shizuka Satomi.” But the world was a far bigger place than the violin community in Arcadia, or the violin community anywhere, for that matter.
How could you have been so stupid?
The girl must have thought she was crazy. And honestly, could anyone blame her?
And now how was Shizuka supposed to find her? Put a call out to the violin community? As if. Those people had too much to chatter about as is.
Besides, the girl was not part of that community.
Astrid brought out breakfast.
“I think you’ll like the tangerine jam. The Aguilars brought so much fruit, and I didn’t want it to go to waste. It’s quite good with toast. But still don’t know how to prepare the bitter melon. I’ll check my cookbooks—I’m sure…”
Astrid stopped.
“I am sure you will find her, Miss Satomi.”
“I’m sorry, Astrid. The jam is quite tasty.”
Astrid shook her head. “Please don’t apologize, Miss Satomi. I am thrilled that you have found the student that you want. In the park, of all places! It is difficult to believe.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Shizuka was having a difficult time believing it herself. A musician worthy of the Queen of Hell should have been recognized somewhere, right?
Who? What? How is this possible?
Even now, Shizuka could sense Astrid’s concern. Had she made a mistake? Was this wishful thinking? Might Tremon Philippe be playing a cruel joke?
No.
The girl might be battered, a runaway. She might have had no idea who Shizuka Satomi was. And yes, she might be unnoticed, unrecognized, even untrained.
But what Shizuka heard, from the call of the tuning fork, through the first draw of her bow, to Schradieck and the shiver of February mist …
Shizuka stared out the window at a cloudless wash of sky.
Oh, Satomi, if only you had kept your composure! If only you had asked for a telephone number, gotten a hint to where she might be staying …
Shizuka finished her breakfast and reached for her sunglasses. But what was done was done. And the girl did have her card, if she hadn’t thrown it away.
For now, all she could do was tell Astrid to once again prepare for a guest, and return to El Molino Park. For after so long sensing it, almost swearing by it, chasing it, believing in it, Shizuka Satomi finally knew what she had been waiting for.
And, more importantly, she finally knew why.
* * *
“Mother, she’s back,” said Shirley.
This was the third time this week that Sunglass Lady had come to the store. Yet Lan had still not asked her name.
This was silly. This woman was a regular customer. One should know the names of regular customers, right? Then why was she hesitating? Lan had led her family out of an interstellar war zone, across a galaxy, safely to an obscure star system, and even secured this wonderful donut shop.
She nodded to herself and took a deep breath. This time, when Sunglass Lady came to the counter, Lan would say, “Welcome back,” take her order, and then ask her name.
“Why should I cut a donut in half?”
The boy in front of her couldn’t have been more than twelve. “I can’t eat a whole donut, so I want to save half for later,” Shizuka explained.
He didn’t need to know that the best way to preserve one’s music is repetition. A half donut from Starrgate was the first thing she had given that player in the park, and so Shizuka would play it just as she remembered.
Not to mention that she was hoping, just a little, to chat with Donut Lady.
The boy shrugged.
“Then why don’t you get a Texas Donut? It is like an Alaska Donut, but half the size.”