Page 8 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“I asked Tami to look into it for me.”
“How do you mean?”
Joe explained, “Gave her some leaves. She thought she mightbe able to find out something online.”
Grandad grumbled, “Wasn’t no need to do that.”
“I know, but our tree wasn’t in any of the books at thelibrary.” He reached for a leaf that had fallen early—perfectly round, thin as tissuepaper, edged in the gold that would soon sweep through the entire canopy. “Iwonder how it got here.”
But Grandad pretended not to hear.
Joe sighed and lifted his hand. A tiny bird, no bigger thana walnut and just as deep a brown, alighted briefly on his fingertips. Itsspeckled throat puffed out, and it warbled three notes, like liquid crystal, piercinglysweet.
They were one of his favorites.
He’d always wondered why no one else seemed to be able tosee them.
FIVE
Fraternal Twins
Melissa liked Abel’s wife, who asked to be called Auntieor Hiro or any combination thereof. The lady of the house spoke with a slightaccent that made it obvious she wasn’t from these parts. While pulling togetherthe evening meal, she gave an abbreviated version of her story, how she andUncle Abel had met at college and married thirty-five years ago. Aunt Hirooccasionally returned to Kyoto to visit her parents, but this was home now.
Her aunt’s and uncle’s easy camaraderie made Melissahomesick, but it also gave her a fresh avenue of inquiry to bring up to thegenealogical division. Many strong reaver bloodlines traced through Japan. Hadthe archivists checked for a maternal connection to the In-between?
Tami returned late that afternoon, bubbling over with newsabout the selection of her school by Hisoka Twineshaft. Melissa hung back, notwanting to interrupt, content to gather her own impressions.
But Tami curtailed her news and turned on her with eyessparkling. “Cousins?”
“On my father’s side.” Melissa found herself admitting,“Your dad reminds me of mine.”
“There’s more like him?” Tami smiled teasingly at herfather. “Maybe we should sneak in at the next family reunion. How are werelated again … through one of Grandad’s cousins?”
“Not quite sure,” Uncle Abel said apologetically. “Maybe oneof the Reaverson girls married an Armstrong?”
Melissa wasn’t sure what to say. Reaver bloodlines didn’talways involve traditional marriages, nor did siblings always choose the samesurname. She’d seen the pertinent section of the family tree used to invoke theElderbough Initiative. Melissa’s biological grandfather was Tami’s biologicalgrandfather’s half-brother. By arrangement. Perhaps there had been an effort torevive a fading bloodline.
But it must not have worked. According to records, UncleAbel’s grandparents had vowed out, relinquishing their reaver status. They’dleft the In-between, but Tami could still be a throwback.
“You’re going to be attending Bellwether College?” Tamiasked. “You’ll soon have classes with Amaranthine. I’m sure it’ll be intomorrow’s news.”
“What?”
“We were selected! My elementary school and our middleschool, one of the high schools, and Bellwether College were chosen by HisokaTwineshaft for his big school revitalization program.”
Tami’s father was all celebration, but her mother wantedmore information. “What happens next?”
“A little extra funding, which we’ll put into renovationsand salaries. But most exciting, we’ll soon have Amaranthine living in ourcommunity!”
“Rivven kids at your school?” asked Uncle Abel.
Tami shook her head. “Not at Landmark. The Amaranthine don’tsend their children to school like we do. They stay with their clan, so they’reessentially homeschooled until they’re old enough to take an apprenticeship.West Branch High will see some student integration, but at the elementarylevel, we’ll be given a choice of Amaranthine faculty or staff.”
Aunt Hiro asked, “You’re replacing teachers?”
“No, no! Not unless or until someone retires. We’re focusingon supplemental staff.” Tami’s enthusiasm seemed to multiply. “For instance, wehaven’t had a school librarian in six years. And budget cuts meant curtailingarts and music. This is ahugeopportunity! Our new staff will beenriching our students’ lives, all while showing them that Amaranthine are valuedmembers of the community.”
“They’re a wily bunch,” said Uncle Able.
