Prints in the Sand: My Journey with Nanea

The moment our eyes open, Mrs. Suda announces the winning project: a book drive, the very one I picked. Everyone cheers, me included. But when she mentions starting tomorrow morning, I worry that I may not be able to help. Can I stay here overnight? Staying away from my family that long makes me uneasy. But then it hits me—my brothers and Auntie Oli have no idea I ever left.

Lily leans over to suggest that Nanea and I spend the night at her place so we can start the book drive right away in the morning. Nanea agrees right away, though she’ll need to ask her mother. Nanea was supposed to garden in the morning and have her hula lessons. Still, maybe she’ll say yes because this is for a good cause. Lily laughs, admitting she should check with her own mother, too, and dashes off to find Mrs. Suda.

Turning to me, Nanea asks if I can stay over. Somehow “yes” tumbles out before I even realize I should pretend to ask if I’m allowed to stay overnight. So I mention that I should check with my babysitter, and then slip away alone into the hotel’s plush pink lobby. There’s not really anyone to get permission from in the lobby. My family won’t even notice I’m missing, and I will find my way back to them eventually. Just not this second.

An hour later, we reach the porch of Lily’s house. When Nanea kicks off her sandals, I do the same. Nanea says removing shoes shows respect here. It’s a Japanese custom. Mr. Suda opens the door with a little bow and a warm Kon’nichiwa. He asks if we saved any oatmeal cookies from the cookie giveaway, and Nanea produces a wax-paper packet saved specially for him. He sniffs it before smiling in delight. Delicious!

Mrs. Suda, trailing in behind us, teases that the cookies can’t possibly beat her own mochi. Nanea shakes her head and insists nothing could ever top her mochi. Mr. Suda looks unconvinced, biting into a cookie and winking at Nanea. Tommy dashes past us, guarding his wad of tinfoil like pirate’s treasure.

Once inside, Mrs. Suda’s hand shoots up just in time to steady a green vase Tommy’s tinfoil ball nearly tips over. Lily’s living room reminds me of my own, right down to the cozy couch and a little boy’s toys scattered in the corner, though a red side table with curved, carved legs is something new. On top rests a folding fan Lily calls a sensu, made of bamboo and delicate handmade washi paper. She hands it over, and I wave it slowly, savoring the cool air on my face before returning it carefully to her.

Dinner blends Japanese and American dishes, mirroring the Suda family itself: bowls of soup, vegetables, and rice sit alongside a plate of hot dogs. Gene, Lily’s older brother, gets home from work and digs into his rice one-handed with chopsticks, without dropping a single grain. Suddenly, I’m nervous. I once gave chopsticks a try, and my rice went flying everywhere. But then, Mrs. Suda hands out forks. Not just to me, but to Lily, Nanea, and Tommy, too. Phew.

The soup is delicious. Mrs. Suda explains that the soup is miso, blended from seaweed, fish, and soybean paste. I force myself to keep my nose from wrinkling. It’s a combination that sounds anything but tempting. But yet, it still tastes good. Scooping up another spoonful, I picture how proud Mom would be that I tried something new.