The Wishing Trees by John Shors Read Free Book Online

her braids rising and falling. “No.”
    “What if that changes?”
    “Was it hard for you and Mommy? Going from country to country?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Then that’s okay.”
    Ian squeezed her hand, proud of her, but still wondering if he should be taking her to places like Nepal and India. Wasn’t she too young for such a journey? Would the sorrows of such countries do her more harm than good? How could the sight of so much suffering help her, especially now, when she carried such a heavy burden?

    SEVERAL HOURS LATER, MATTIE AND IAN SAT in a taxi. They had come from a large park, where a dozen cherry blossom trees were in full bloom. Mattie had used her colored pencils to sketch the trees, which bordered a traditional Japanese garden. Ian had told her that he believed the garden to be relatively new, as the trees were middle-aged, and most of Tokyo had been destroyed in the war. The blossoms were beautiful, however, despite the thinness of the branches that bore them. Mattie had studied the blooming trees before sitting down to sketch them. After drawing almost every day for the past five years, her hand was able to re-create the loveliness around her. Focusing on three trees that leaned toward one another, Mattie brought life to the pink blossoms that filled the air with their fragrance. As she worked, Ian wondered why she’d chosen the three trees to duplicate, when so many others were present.
    Now, as their taxi drifted down Tokyo’s streets, Ian asked if he could look at her drawing again. Mattie opened her sketch pad and flipped to the middle. He studied her trees, aware of how her strokes were growing more graceful. The trunks of the trees were perfectly imperfect, drawn in black and brown, reaching skyward. The cherry blossoms were like pink clouds that encircled the upper halves of the trees.
    “You’re getting so good, Roo,” Ian said. “You’re a real Rembrandt.”
    Mattie smiled but said nothing, which didn’t surprise Ian. Kate and Mattie had always shared a special bond when it came to her drawings. They had spoken about them every day, Kate asking questions, offering encouragement. Ian had tried to do the same, but wasn’t home enough to create a pattern of such support. As their taxi sped through a yellow light, he wondered if Mattie would ever open up to him about her drawings.
    “Why, luv, did you use three trees?” he asked. “Is it because of our family? Because there are three of us?”
    “There are two of us, Daddy. Just two.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “It’s only a drawing.”
    Ian decided not to pursue the subject. It had been a good day, and good days hadn’t come often since Kate’s death. He carefully closed the book and handed it back to Mattie. “Are you knackered, Roo?”
    “A little. My pillow felt like a rock.”
    The taxi turned into a residential area. The homes, so close together that they seemed connected, were two-storied. They didn’t look like the houses in Kyoto, many of which were old and had tiled roofs and miniature gardens. These dwellings resembled small offices. Only a few of the homes had a car parked outside. Such vehicles were miniature, practically toys that had been backed into carports.
    The uniformed and white-gloved driver muttered to himself and turned again, soon coming to a stop. He pushed a button and the door next to Mattie opened. Ian glanced at the meter and handed several bills to the driver. The man said thank you in Japanese. Ian and Mattie got out of the car and looked at the house in front of them, which was almost identical to all of the other nearby dwellings.
    As Ian stepped forward, the door to the home slid open. An old woman, bent over as if she’d spent a lifetime working in rice fields, smiled and gestured at them to come in. Ian didn’t speak much Japanese but said hello and asked the woman how she was doing. She laughed, nodding her head, cackling to herself. “Is Akiko-san home?” Ian inquired, holding a blue