Kung Fooey (13 page)

Clear tape held the two torn pieces of Stella’s postcard together.

“Stella asked me to mail it for her,” Mom said.

“Huh,” I said. Stella had done a good job of taping the postcard back together.

Mom tapped the card with her finger. “Funny, but you and Stella have very similar handwriting.”

I nodded, trying to look surprised. “It’s nice she wrote her mom.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

I peeked up. Mom gazed into my eyes. “So,” she said.

I looked away … at my desk.

Mom reached over and picked up the photograph that Benny Obi had given me. “What’s this?”

“Um … someone gave it to me.”

“Who’s Benny Obi?”

“A friend … at school.”

“And he met your dad?”

I nodded. “He saw his show in Las Vegas, I guess with his family.”

“That’s nice.” Mom put the picture back and tugged Stella’s postcard from my fingers. “I’ll take that.”

“Oh … sorry.”

“I need to lie on the couch with a magazine before this evening gets any stranger.”

A while later, Streak and I went outside and stood in the dark listening to the toads down by the river. A sliver of moon hung in the sky, like a clipped fingernail.

I know kung fu.

I smiled and shook my head. “You were something, Benny Obi.”

No way in all my life would I ever forget that line, or him. Kung fu or Kung Fu-Fu, or Kung Fooey, who cared? Benny had perked up our lives like the Fourth of July.

In a way, I guess Stella had, too.

I breathed in the cool air and went back into my room. Streak jumped up onto the lower bunk and circled into her spot.

I crawled in and curled around her, with my head propped up in my hand.

“You ever seen a kid with one and a half legs, Streak? Benny did.”

She licked my face.

I slept like a rock that night.

And dreamed of driving a big pink car.

Ka Lae on the Big Island of Hawaii is the southernmost point in the United States. If you go there, you’ll notice a constant wind blowing east to west, 24 hours per day, 365 days per year.

Sneezing with your eyes open is impossible.