Jasmine Toguchi, Bridge Builder by Debbi Michiko Florence

Author:Debbi Michiko Florence
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)

I learned my lesson from the mikan tree. Even though the chest looked perfect for climbing, I would stay off it.

On each step part of the chest was a shell. “Wowee zowee!” I said. “Those are big!”

Mom picked up a giant snail shell that was green and black on the outside and shiny pink on the inside. She handed it to me. It was heavy.

“What are you doing?” Sophie asked as she stepped into the room. Her hair was still wet from her bath. Her very long bath.

“Mom’s got an awesome collection.” Seeing all the shells made me forget I was kind of sort of mad at Sophie.

“This is a scallop.” Mom handed Sophie a flat brown-and-cream shell with rounded edges. “You may each pick one to take home.”

I hopped on one foot twice and on my other foot three times. I had a lot of excitement energy! There were so many to choose from. I wanted the best one. A weird purple ball caught my eye. I liked it because it was my favorite color.

When I reached for it, Sophie did, too. We frowned at each other.

“Oh, girls,” Mom said with a sigh. “There are at least twelve shells and you want the same one?”

“What is this one?” I asked Mom.

“It’s a sea urchin shell,” Mom said.

I decided I didn’t want anything that Sophie wanted. I let go of it and held up the shell in my other hand. “Can I keep this?” It would be special, since it was the one Mom gave me.

“Of course,” Mom said with a smile.

Sophie ran her finger along the bumps of the sea urchin shell. Would she snatch it? She looked at me. “Well, if Jasmine can pick another one, I can, too. I will keep the one you handed to me, Mom.”

“I’m so glad,” Mom said.

“What’s that shelf for?” Sophie asked.

“I’ll show you,” Mom answered. She led us to the front of the room. There were two framed pictures. In front of the pictures were a metal bowl with incense sticks, a plate with grapes and an apple, and a small bowl of rice.

“That’s a picture of my dad on the left and that’s my uncle on the right, Yasuko Obaachan’s husband,” Mom said.

I peered at the photos. I had never met Mom’s dad because he died before Sophie and I were born. He looked nice. He smiled with his mouth closed, and his eyes were happy and kind.

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