Yellow Ghost: La Femme Selita Prequel Read Free Page B

was waiting for us downstairs. I paced my father’s bedroom. He dressed in his suit jacket. We were to go downstairs and greet my brother. We’re taking my brother to dinner in America. My father refused to share the boy’s name with me. One of his silly games, he wanted me to ask the boy his name in Japanese. He was testing my skill of the language. I’m just glad that boy isn’t Chinese. I have a heard time with Mandarin.
    “Father is he your real son?” I was bold enough to ask before we ventured downstairs to greet the boy.
    “Selita I told you he was a adopted.”
    I remembered but I somehow thought he might be lying to spare my feelings. I was trying to trick him into telling me the truth. “Yes you did.”
    “I adopted him as I adopted you.”
    “Why?”
    “There is no need for jealousy. I will always favor you more than him because you are a girl.”
    “Did you say the same thing to him?”
    He chuckled. “No of course not. I want you to treat him like family because he is your family. He is the only brother you have.”
    “I may have another. There’s no way to know for sure. My mother got around.”
    “When will you grow out of hating your mother?”
    “She let me go to foster care. She sold me. I’m entitled to hate her for at the very least two more years.”
    “Your caseworker Diane Murphy played a great part in your adoption. She is the one that sold you.”
    “Yeah sure but Martika gave up her parental rights. I know she didn’t do it for free.”
    “Come. We must go.” Father grabbed my wrist and pulled me out into the hallway.
    He let go of my hand and I followed him down the staircase. The boy was waiting in the atrium. He was wearing a suit. Ugh, what a dork.
    I saw him standing there looking super-stupid. He was big, much bigger than me. I hated this phantom brother as soon as I laid eyes on him. He was Japanese just like father. I suspected that Father loved him more than me. I knew it was stupid but I hated that he was here in the United States. I wished he would go back to Japan.
    He was only sixteen but he had the body of a man. He was taller than Father. He was wearing those shiny shoes just like Father, the copycat.
    “ Konnichiwa Selita.”
    “ Konnichiwa .” I replied, as I looked at him from his head down to his toes.
    I decided to come right at him, to ask the question that Father refused to tell me.
    “ Oai dekite ureshii desu. ” He says it’s nice to meet me but the feeling wasn’t mutual.
    “ Namae wa nandesu ka ?”
    “ Watashi no namae wa Takeo Hiroshima.” He smirked. He has Father’s last name and I don’t.
    “ Toshi wa ikutsu desu ka ?”
    I know he knows the answer to that question. “I’m twelve.”
    “Speak Japanese Selita.” Father warned me and I squinted my eyes at him. I was done with Takeo and Japanese. My Father knew I was stubborn.
    Father placed his hand on my shoulder. “Selita give Takeo a tour of the house before we go to dinner.”
    “Follow me.” Loser. I smiled in the fakest way I knew possible. I turned my back to Takeo and started heading toward the stairs.
    We walked silently up the stairs.
    “I didn’t know you would be a Black American.”
    “I don’t care what you know.”
    “You are much to young to be a grumpy.”
    “You are much too old to be a --” dummy.
    “You don’t like me very much do you?”
    “I don’t know you very much.” I smirked.
    “Americans and their attitudes.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Does Father know you use vulgar language?”
    “Father lets me do whatever I want. He likes me better than you.”
    He chuckled. “That’s highly doubtful little black girl.”
    “I’m done with this tour. I’m hungry.” Takeo turned around and went back the way we came. I had no choice but to follow him.
    We went to dinner and Father did most of the talking. He asked Takeo many questions. I didn’t say much but I made sure to listen closely. Listening to information and keeping it locked up in my brain.