Airi Sano, Prankmaster General, page 13
PERSONNEL FILE
Name
Kim, Layla
Date of Birth
June 1
Place of Birth
Honolulu, Hawai‘i
Place of Residence
Mililani, Hawai‘i
Occupation
College student in marine biology at the University of Hawai‘i
Primary Specialties
Surfing, making pizza from scratch
Awards and Citations
She’s placed in a bunch of youth surfing competitions.
Disciplinary Record
Unknown (Mom doesn’t like her tattoos, but I think they’re neat.)
Remarks
We call her Cousin Layla, but her dad is actually Uncle Dan, Dad’s best friend from high school. She’s so cool. She’s going to be an environmental lawyer, which she says is like being Earth’s lawyer. Which kind of makes her like a superhero, in my opinion. She’s promised to teach me to surf.
It’s weird to go to the school at night. Everything looks different. Kind of haunted. The classrooms all glow with lights. No one’s running around or carrying backpacks. There’s music coming from some of the rooms. I would like it if it weren’t a school.
The fifth graders are doing their presentations first, so Mom takes half the cupcakes and E.J. to his class. That’s fine by me. I take the other half of the cupcakes to Mrs. Ashton’s class. I set them down on her desk and look around the classroom. Mrs. Ashton is talking to some parents. Ms. Nicole is straightening out one of the displays. I decide to scope out the competition.
A lot of the class did some kind of art for the creative part of their research project. Kai, the one who did his on Zippy’s, created a diorama of one of their restaurants. There’s even a teeny-tiny plate of loco moco and a tiny bowl of saimin on one of the tables. It could have been made by the Menehune.[*] Jason put all the photos he took on a poster board. The best one is of a turtle that is looking right at the camera. Jason also put little captions underneath some of the photos. That one says, “Whooooaaaaa.”
There’s a lot of other neat stuff. Kiana made a whole bunch of leis from different things. There’s even one that’s made of plastic netting with money inside. The one made of plumeria smells so good. I stick my nose into it and take a big sniff.
SOME OF THE PARENTS’ NIGHT PROJECTS I THOUGHT WERE INTERESTING
A copy of the statue of King Kamehameha made out of Lego
One of those baking soda volcanoes to represent Mount Kīlauea[*]
A hand-painted re-creation of the Obama HOPE poster from when he was first elected[*]
A crocheted stuffed nēnē bird[*]
A 3D papier-mâché model of the islands
Mei’s hula dance
Emma playing “Aloha ‘Oe” on the ukulele
Zach demonstrating the proper stance for surfing
Wyatt showing a short video he took hiking up Diamond Head
Mom and Dad arrive from E.J.’s class in time to see the end of Mei’s dance. I asked to go last when Mrs. Ashton was setting up the order. No one ever wants to go first or last when making presentations. It worked out too because it gave my parents time to get to my class. Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair to everyone else if I’d gone first. Because I’m going to bring the house down. I can’t wait. It’s going to be amazing. I think it’ll be fun for people who have a sense of humor. Who don’t think that history has to be all serious all the time. And it’s sure to make Mrs. Ashton mad, because I’m going to make a big mess.
For my creative presentation, I’ve decided to do a dramatic reenactment. At first I thought I might do a comic, but that wouldn’t be shocking enough. I need to make a statement. Jason, Mei, and I have practiced. Jason wanted a script, but we don’t need one. Not for this.
THE STORY OF JAMES COOK:
A JERK WHO GOT WHAT HE DESERVED
James Cook was born in England in 1728. He joined the British navy and did lots of military stuff in Canada during the Seven Years’ War. He made the best maps of Newfoundland that had been made until then.
After that, he got sent to the Pacific Ocean to explore. He and his crew had to sail all the way around South America to get there. On his first trip, he went to Tahiti and then to New Zealand and Australia. He met Australians and wrote racist things about their skin color. Then he crashed his ship into the Great Barrier Reef. He decided that everything he saw belonged to England, even though people lived there already. On the way back to England, lots of his crew died from malaria, which they got from mosquitoes. The whole trip took three years, and it made him very famous.
For his next trip, he sailed south. People thought there was a big continent down there that kept the world balanced. It turns out they were right, and that was Antarctica, but Cook didn’t find it. Instead he got into fights with the Māori, who are the native people of New Zealand, and claimed a bunch of other islands belonged to England. Back then, you could just sail to any place and say you owned it, and people believed you.
Cook’s third trip was to look for a way from the Atlantic to the Pacific without having to go all the way around South America. He found Hawai‘i instead, which he called the Sandwich Islands after the Earl of Sandwich, who was also the person to invent the sandwich.
The first island he visited was Kaua‘i. The Hawaiians were very nice to him. They traded food for iron and exchanged knowledge. After that, he spent a year exploring the western coast of the mainland. He met the Yuquot people in Vancouver and was annoyed because he couldn’t trade worthless junk to them like he did in Hawai‘i. This continued a pattern of Cook having bad relations with the native people wherever he went.
Cook went all the way to Alaska, then to the coast of Siberia. He began to act weirdly and made his crew eat gross walrus meat. He spotted the same island four times in one day and named it differently each time. He would get angry really suddenly, which people call “fits of rage” but is just a grown-up version of a tantrum.
Cook returned to Hawai‘i, this time landing at Kealakekua Bay on the Big Island. People say that the Hawaiians thought he was a god because he arrived during the Makahiki festival for the god Lono and they also called him Lono. But some people say that Lono was a nickname for highly respected people, but it doesn’t mean they thought he was a god.
Even if they didn’t think he was a god, Cook was treated very nicely. The priests included him in rituals. The Hawaiians traded lots of supplies, and their king, Kalani‘opu‘u, came to the bay to meet Cook. Kalani‘opu‘u and Cook exchanged tokens of friendship. Cook was treated as a fellow chief and was given great respect. Cook and his sailors stayed for one month while they fixed their ship.
When Cook’s crew tried to leave, they ran into a big storm that damaged their ship again. They returned to the Big Island. This time they weren’t greeted with a big happy crowd. The Hawaiians were tired of Cook by then, and they didn’t want to share more food because there was a war going on between the Big Island and Mau‘i. But they wanted iron to make weapons. They wanted it so bad they stole tools from the ship. They also took one of Cook’s sailboats so they could take out its nails.
This made Cook very mad. He decided that he was going to take Kalani‘opu‘u hostage until the sailboat was returned. When Cook took him, the Hawaiians followed because they were worried about their king. A fight broke out when the Hawaiians tried to protect their king. Cook fired his gun and killed a Hawaiian man. Then the Hawaiians pushed Cook into the sand and stabbed him. The Hawaiians and the sailors fought until the sailors had to retreat to their ship.
The sailors took revenge by killing some Hawaiians. Meanwhile, the Hawaiians had taken Cook’s body for ceremonial burial. Even though he had tried to kidnap their king, they treated him respectfully. His body was ritually cut up and burned, and his bones were given to different chiefs. Later they gave some bones to the sailors to bury out of respect for their traditions.
Cook’s ship finally left a week later. But that wasn’t the end of Cook’s effect on Hawai‘i. Now England knew where Hawai‘i was, and that meant more haoles came. Also, for many years people believed a lie about the Hawaiians eating Cook’s body. This rumor was from racist people who wanted to make the Hawaiians seem like animals. Though if they had eaten Cook, he would have deserved it because of his lack of respect for the people he met. Overall the Hawaiian people would probably be happier if Cook had never found them.
I play James Cook. Jason plays the Hawaiian king. Mei plays the man who killed James Cook. I had to bribe them with Pocky to get them to do it, but Mei actually likes acting. I had Jason be the king because he doesn’t have to say much. He just has to let me lead him to the front of the classroom and then say, “I don’t want to go anymore. Where are you taking me?”
“I will hold you on my ship until your people return the things they stole!” I say.
Jason sits down on the floor. “I won’t go.”
Mei marches up the aisle to the front of the classroom, waving a wrapping-paper tube. “Where are you taking our king?” she shouts. She’s really into it. She was really excited when I told her that we would fake sword-fight. She’s a lot more bloodthirsty than she looks.
“Your king must answer for your crimes!” I tell her.
“You’ve broken the bonds of friendship and disrespected our traditions.” Mei puts her hand on her hip. “For that, you must be punished!”
“I am a god to you!” I shout.
“You’re no god of mine!” Mei yells back.
Then we fight with the wrapping-paper tubes. James Cook actually had a gun, but that wouldn’t be as interesting to watch. So we fence, and then I fall dramatically to the ground. Mei stands over me, laughing like a supervillain.
“And that’s what you get!” she says. “Death to the invaders!”
She stabs down at me with her tube. This is the best part. The part I’ve been waiting for.
Under my shirt I have a bottle of ketchup I took from the refrigerator at home. I snuck it in with the cupcakes. Mom had no idea. I have it between my ribs and my elbow. I squeeze as hard as I can and yell at the top of my lungs.
The ketchup comes shooting out. It goes everywhere. Some even hits the ceiling. Mei gets some on her face and wipes it off and eats it. I keep squeezing until the ketchup stops coming out. Then I flop down flat on the floor and close my eyes.
“Muahaha!” Mei puts her foot on my chest. “And now we are free from the haoles!”
We give it a moment. You have to let everyone take in the scene. And then I jump to my feet and say, “And that’s how James Cook died!”
There’s ketchup all over the front row of desks. Some got on the parents. A few of them look pretty mad. Whoops! But I don’t care. Because it was exactly how I imagined it. Maybe a little messier than I thought, but that’s even better. I wanted drama. I wanted excitement. And I wanted people to never forget my performance. I’m pretty sure we nailed it.
I grab Mei’s hand and pull Jason up, and we bow. From the back of the classroom, I hear my dad laugh and then start clapping. I straighten up and give him a big grin. He grins back. Mom has her arms crossed. Oh well. I knew she wouldn’t like it. She doesn’t like it when I “make a scene.”
Mrs. Ashton is clapping too. She’s actually smiling, super big. And it seems sincere. I can’t believe her. Is she for real?
“Bravo, Airi!” she says. “That was very vivid!”
“Oh my god,” Ms. Nicole says. She looks horrified. “There’s so much to clean up . . .”
“Sorry,” I say to Mei and Jason. I didn’t tell them about the ketchup. I wanted it to be a surprise. Also, they might have stopped me. I hope they aren’t mad. “You don’t have to help clean.”
“That was awesome,” Mei says, her eyes wide. I’m starting to realize she’s a lot cooler than I thought.
“I think I got ketchup in my hair,” Jason says. He pokes his finger into his curls.
To my surprise, Jason and Mei volunteer to help me clean up. They wipe off the desks and the floor. I have to do the ceiling. I have to stand on a desk to reach, and even then I have to use a broom to rub the cloth against the ketchup. But it was totally worth it. Even if Mom is watching me and pointing out spots I missed.
When I get down, Mrs. Ashton comes over to me and my parents. “That was a very unique presentation, Airi,” she says. “Very memorable. I don’t know how anyone will ever be able to top it.”
“You inspired me,” I say, with my most angelic face. “My mom and I even made those cupcakes for you.” I point at her desk.
“I was wondering where those were from!” Mrs. Ashton turns to my mom. “Thank you, Mrs. Sano.”
“It is no trouble at all,” Mom says.
“I know Airi can be a handful,” Dad says. “Are you doing all right with her?”
“Hey!” I say.
Mrs. Ashton smiles and winks at me. “Not at all. Airi is a joy to have in class.”
“You should try one,” I tell Mrs. Ashton. “I frosted them myself.”
Mom looks at me, frowning slightly. Now she’s suspicious. But she won’t say anything in front of Mrs. Ashton. So there’s no one to stop Mrs. Ashton from picking up the tray of cupcakes and offering it to Ms. Nicole. Some of the kids take them too, and a few of the parents. Soon all of the cupcakes have been handed out except one. Mrs. Ashton’s cupcake.
I watch everyone closely. Ms. Nicole bites into hers and makes a face. She holds it up like she thinks there’s a trick inside. Jake takes a huge chomp and starts coughing right away, his eyes tearing up. His dad scolds him for eating too quickly while Jake runs to the trash can to spit out his mouthful. I look back at Mrs. Ashton and smile.
“Airi, what did you do?” Mom asks under her breath in Japanese. It’s too late, though. Mrs. Ashton has already unwrapped the last cupcake and brought it to her mouth. I hold my breath. Here it is. Here’s the moment she’s going to finally admit that I’m a troublemaker. And she’ll finally leave me alone.
Mrs. Ashton takes a dainty bite. Her face doesn’t change at all. She chews, swallows, and takes another bite. My eyes widen.
A second bite?!
She swallows the second bite. “That’s a very unique flavor,” Mrs. Ashton says. “Spicy and sweet isn’t for everyone, but it’s very gourmet. Where did you get the idea?”
“Spicy?” Mom asks.
“Do you . . . like it?” I ask. This makes no sense. Are Mrs. Ashton’s taste buds broken?
“Hmm, I think I would change the recipe a bit for the next time,” Mrs. Ashton says. “I think you need a savory element, like some candied bacon on top. And you might want to change the frosting from vanilla to a plain cream cheese frosting.”
She’s actually giving me tips on how to do this again? That’s it. She’s not normal. She can’t be.
Mom’s jaw is very tense. Her mouth is pressed into that thin line she gets when she’s mad and doesn’t want to show it. Dad looks like he can’t decide if he wants to laugh or sigh. Mrs. Ashton takes another bite.
I open my mouth to ask again if she likes it, because I just can’t believe it. But Dad taps me on the shoulder. “Airi,” he says, “could you go get your brother from his class so we can talk to Mrs. Ashton for a minute?”
“Fine,” I say, and I turn around and march out of the room. My stomach is all clenched up. Because when my parents want to talk to my teacher, it usually means I’m going to be in trouble. Mrs. Ashton has been nice to me, but what teachers really care about is the parents. Keeping the parents happy is more important than if the kid is happy. That’s why they invented grades.
E.J. is hanging out with some of his friends. He already has a whole group of them. E.J. has always been good at making friends. Everywhere we go he has a group. He even keeps in touch with them after we move. They play games online together. It doesn’t seem fair, because E.J. is good at school too. He shouldn’t get to have both. He doesn’t even need to study that much—he just learns things and remembers them.
“Hey,” I say to him. “Eiji.”
He turns and scowls at me. He hates when I call him by his full name. “What?”
“Mom and Dad want to go soon,” I say. “Come on.”
“Hi,” says one of E.J.’s friends. She has lots of braids and cat-eye glasses. “I didn’t know E.J. had a sister.”
“I go here too,” I say. “So you’d better watch out.”
“Jesus Christ, Airi,” E.J. says.
“You sound like Mrs. Forsythe,” I say. Mrs. Forsythe was our neighbor back in Kentucky. She babysat us when Mom and Dad were doing stuff at the hospital for Mom’s pregnancy with Kaori, even though I think I’m old enough to watch E.J. Her favorite thing to say was “Jesus Christ, Airi,” with her big Southern twang. There was one time when she was asking how my summer reading was going, so I showed her my copy of Holes that I’d carved holes into. They were all different depths and sizes. I thought it was clever. She was horrified. I think she doesn’t appreciate art.
