Sombra Mundus

Chapter One

Mina slid into the desk behind the blonde girl and sighed. Kelli turned around in her seat.

“You’ll like Mrs. Swanson. She’s so easy-going. Not like Mr. Briggs.” Kelli made a face that gave her the impression of a chipmunk. “We’re starting The Crucible next week. Talk about dull. So, where’re you from?”

“Chicago,” Mina said, slouching back in her chair. “I can’t believe how small everything is out here.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Kelli looked a bit deflated. Her blue eyes were too large for her face, and they took a downward turn for a moment. “I guess it would be boring after a big place like Chicago. But we do have an active sports program for our size school. Even jayvee teams. Freshman basketball is full, but volleyball will start after the holidays.”

Mina only half-listened as the blonde extolled the virtues of Morrow High School’s athletic teams. She had almost completely tuned her out when Mrs. Swanson stood before the class as the break bell rang.

“ ... But we have a killer hockey team,” Kelli added with a quick smile. “In the second semester.”

Mina gave a nod, and then wished she could disappear completely as the teacher pointed her out to the entire class and had her introduce herself.

When she regained her seat a few minutes later as Mrs. Swanson briefed them on the highlights of Arthur Miller’s study in hypocrisy, Mina slouched back in her chair.

Why Morrow, Indiana, population 5,800? Her mother could work from home anywhere. Why settle here, with no archery program or even local clubs for the sport? Unless she was willing to join the bow-hunting division of the rod and gun lodge at the edge of town. At least in Oak Park there had been a small but fastidious team at a nearby high school, and she had been allowed to become a member only last year.

“Are you, like, Chinese or something?”

Mina looked to the dark-haired boy seated across the aisle from her. She shook her head.

“Shut up, man,” said a male voice from behind her. “Don’t ask stupid stuff like that.”

“Well, I mean, she’s something,” the first boy said lowly.

“So are you. Idiot.”

Mina propped her head on her hand and focused on the teacher who had sat on a stool before the class. This was just what she expected from a hick place like Morrow. No one in Chicago even gave a second glance at her Asian looks. Well, not too many, anyway. Here it was like they had never seen someone of Japanese descent. She watched Mrs. Swanson’s mouth move, but didn’t care to listen. And she wasn’t entirely Japanese, anyway. There was equal part Korean and plenty of German in her, too. No one ever commented on her last name of Knudsohn unless they were trying to spell it.

The boy to her left wasn’t worth a closer look and she ignored him, and the rest of the class and the teacher, until the bell rang for third hour.

Lit class promised to be a drag, and she wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day. First days were always tough, but she hadn’t had to start a new school in three years, and never six weeks into the first semester.

The bright spot of the day was missing the bus to go home. Being rural, nearly everyone at the high school rode the bus, and Mina was glad not to be among them. She hitched her book bag over her shoulder and started the trek home, wondering how long she had before the sidewalk ended and she’d have to cross yards. And if there were dogs. She hadn’t thought about that part.

When she reached the modest two story house she deigned to call home, Mina checked the mail box at the street and headed in with a peevish frown. Inside the kitchen she dropped the mail on the counter and looked around. The house was actually a bit larger than their house outside Chicago, and the yard in the back was more than they had had, but there were town ordinances, and one of them was no gun or bow shooting in less than half an acre or property, and the Knudsohn home had less.

She sighed, placing her shoes at the back door and hanging up her coat on the row of six pegs. Only her mother’s coat and a sweater hung on the other pegs. She wondered if her father’s coat would soon be there also.

And was it really a Knudsohn home if her father was absent?

“How was school?” her mother called as Mina passed the open door.

Mina paused, pushing her dark hair behind one ear. As close as okaasan and she usually were, lately there was dissention. She backed up a step and peeked into the small office. “I still hate it.”

Her mother’s shoulders sagged as she looked up from the computer monitor. “You’re not giving it a chance, musume. What about the stables?”

“I don’t want to learn how to ride. And it doesn’t help --“

“-- that you can’t shoot there.” Her mother sighed, taking off her glasses. “You might find other interests, Mina. There’s more than archery. And,” she said, rising to her full five-foot three-inches before Mina could interject, “I’m not saying to give it up. We just haven’t found a place to shoot yet. We will. But meanwhile, try something else for a while.”

Mina nodded, but didn’t feel like agreeing. Her mother’s petite form seemed somehow smaller since they left Chicago. It was most notable when they had had to hire a handyman to do some outside work. Not a tall, sturdy man like her father was, but the laborer still towered over her mother’s short stature.

Mina headed down the hallway to the staircase.

“You got an email from Aunt Gretchen.”

Mina’s foot froze on the first step, her hand tightening on the banister. Her mind ran cold. “What did she say?”

“I didn’t open it, honey. Send her our love and kisses for the kids.”

“I will.” Mina sighed and continued up to her room. After recovering from the initial shock, guilt swept over her. Okaasan would be so hurt if she knew what the message was probably about. She dropped her book bag beside her desk and sat at the window seat that overlooked the back yard.

It was the one redeeming attribute to her new bedroom. The window seat was built right into the wall, accommodating the closet next to it, and from it she could see across their back yard and the neighbor’s behind them. Beyond that was another street which ran parallel to her own. A timid November drizzle began outside and she was glad she’d gotten home before it started.

She glanced to her desk where the computer monitor was black, awaiting her attention, but she was in no hurry to hear from Aunt Gretchen. In fact, she was very close to abandoning the whole idea of trying to go back to Chicago. Her mother would be hurt, and she didn’t know what her father would do.

But she did not want to stay in Morrow.

On the road across the backyards she could see a dark blue truck slowly make its way down the street, a white sign on the driver’s door. It paused at a few houses, and she figured it was a lost contractor. After a moment it was out of view among the block of houses.

Maybe she could just finish out her sophomore year in Chicago, and then start again in Morrow her junior year.

Mina slid her tray along the cafeteria lunch line, absently following the large jersey numbered eighty-six in front of her. The whole student body was littered with the black and red shirts that day, commemorating the home football game that evening. Mina frowned at the red number on the black shirt before her, wondering why this one looked different than all the others. She shook her head. Maybe it wasn’t even a football jersey. She looked back at the selections of plastic-wrapped salads.

“Hey, heard your brother got picked for the county all-stars,” said a voice from behind her.

An arm came over her shoulder and pushed the guy in the red and black jersey in front of her, bumping her into the lunch counter. She grabbed her plastic spork as it fell off the tray and her juice bottle wobbled.

“Dummy. Watch it.”

Mina ducked lower as a return shove reached across her from the boy in front of her. Her juice bottle wobbled on her tray and fell into the tub of gelatin packages. He righted her bottle of juice and put an apple, a sealed fruit cup, and a chocolate pudding cup from the counter on her tray.

“Sorry.” He glared at the other boy behind her. “And he’s an alternate. Not even second string.”

Mina ignored both of them, vaguely recognizing each from different classes. She put the pudding and fruit cup back the counter with the other selections. The apple she was going to get anyway, but she didn’t need any help picking out her lunch.

“Sorry.” The guy in front of her chose a different fruit cup and put it on her tray. “I thought it was pears. Pineapple?”

“No, thanks.” She shook her head as he put a different pudding cup on her tray, studying her. She didn’t look up at him.

“Not vanilla either?”

“I didn’t have pudding or a fruit cup.”

“Oh. Thought you did.”

Mina put the pudding back and picked out a salad and pouch of dressing from the scant selection. She paid for her lunch, relieved to get out from the cross-fire of the much taller classmates and into the relative quiet of a corner table.

“Hey! Do you mind?”

Actually, Mina did mind, but it didn’t keep Kelli and her bookish friend from taking the seats across from her.

“Mina, this is Melanie, from our debate class. She’s the one with the half-wit Scott as her partner.”

Melanie shrugged, her short dark hair bobbing as she moved. “He’s smart, just ill-adjusted.”

“Yeah, and I’m fast, just late for the finish line.” Kelli shook her bottle of juice. “That’s a track metaphor, if you’re wondering, Mina.”

Mina nodded, hoping the conversation wouldn’t lapse into an impromptu session of what she had begun to call Argumentative English rather than debate class.

“Jared got picked for the county team,” Kelli said, opening her juice slowly. “Another notch in his belt.”

Melanie blushed from behind her granola bar. “Like he needs another notch.”

Kelli grinned. “Mellie has a crush on Jared.”

Melanie kicked the blonde girl beneath the table. “The whole freshman class does.”

“Well, he’s good. Very athletic. Do you do any sports, Mina?”

Mina didn’t want to share, but after a few minutes of coaxing, consented. She wished she hadn’t. Neither Kelli nor Melanie knew much about archery, except that bow-hunting season came before gun season, and she let them curb the conversation back to Jared.

Jared, it seemed, was the all-around golden boy of sports, who was competed over in the spring for baseball and track, and had more slots on the sports record boards than any athlete in the past two decades at Morrow High.

“Kind of makes Jason just disappear,” Melanie said with a giggle.

“Oh, Jason is good; just in the shadows, that’s all,” Kelli said with an attempt at fairness. “And he’d wipe the ice with Jared in hockey.”

Mina ignored the ensuing dispute over which brother was the better hockey player and resorted to eating her apple. Actually, the apple was worth the attention, she learned. She was happy to discover it was not the wax coated, cakey-type she hated, and wondered if it was one of the locally grown, hand-raised and lovingly picked kind that small towns liked to sell at their farmers markets. It sure tasted like it.

The next day Mina found herself staring at the score circled in red on the paper before her in math class. At least she hadn’t slacked off too much in Algebra. She looked at the second paper she held. Not bad, either. She frowned at the name, unsure why it didn’t seem right to her. She had certainly heard it enough on the morning announcements touting yet another sports game victory over the last week and a half. Suddenly she became aware of the dark-haired head hovering over her shoulder.

“Just what we need,” he said from behind her. “A steeper grading curve. Nice job.”

Mina handed Jason’s paper over her shoulder and he disappeared from her peripheral view. She let herself smile at his half-compliment. His test score was good, too, but she knew she had one of the best in the class. She sighed and tucked the paper into her folder.

She thought back to Aunt Gretchen. The email hadn’t been what she was expecting. Aunt Gretchen was only remarking that she’d accidentally deleted Mina’s message without reading it and could she please send it again. Mina traced the edging on her math book, considering her options as Mr. Mansmith outlined their homework assignment. Her mother would have a fit if she knew Mina was thinking of moving without her approval.

But how could she not? Mina thought. If she stayed in Morrow another week she’d go mad. Aunt Gretchen may let her live with her for school, but her mother would be severely offended. Mina knew it, but right now, sitting in yet another claustrophobic classroom without any outlet for archery in town, she just wanted out. She couldn’t go a winter without shooting. Even the YMCA twenty miles away had no archery clubs to join. And she couldn’t shoot in the tiny yard behind their house.

She pushed her dark hair out of her eyes, chiding herself for having forgotten a clip that morning. No, there was no way to go back to Chicago without insulting her mother, but she desperately wanted to go.

The subject was still on her mind -- as it had been for two days -- as she made her way into town later that day. At least Morrow did have a decent book shop, no large, but with a speedy special order service that many bigger shops would have envied.

If she could get there before they closed at four o’clock. Why so early? she thought. It was only on Tuesdays, which was today, but she wanted her book.

She waited at the street corner of what was an exceptionally crowded afternoon intersection. She was the only one crossing from her corner, but kitty-corner from her was a group of junior high students, laughing and poking at each other. The light turned and she started into the crosswalk.

Maybe her mother would understand her finishing out the year in Chicago. She’d come back in the summer. She’d promise her mother that. Just one more year, she thought.

“Mina!”

Mina slowed in the street in response to the male voice, then turned and made a dash for the opposite corner as a two-ton truck bore down on her, brakes screaming as it skid. There was a heavy shove from behind, and then the impact of glass, metal, and pavement, followed by an encompassing pain that took away her breath and left her senses dark.