No Way, Nana

No Way, Nana!

by

Christopher Pelletier

copyright 2011


Only one week! Nana had only one stinking week to get her paper done for English class. If she could not, her chances of seeing Arashi’s farewell concert would be flushed down the toilet with the rest of her luck.

Mr. Davidson, her spiteful English teacher at her international middle school, had assigned the class an essay about Mark Twain’s use of language to convey authentic characters. English isn’t even my language, Nana thought. Especially English from over a hundred years ago. They didn’t even have computers then.

To complicate matters, her computer was down with a nasty virus, possibly from downloading all of those boot-leg Arashi concerts and watching them at two o’clock in the morning instead of sleeping. She would do anything for her favorite boys. But now she could not access Wikipedia or anything online to get any quick answers. She was on her own.

This is how it must have been for Mark Twain.

She took out her notebook and pencil with Snoopy on it. She twirled Woodstock, who was on a plastic chain at the eraser end. The soft-cover book with Huckleberry Finn staring Nana in the eyes grew annoying, so it went flying across the room. She ran her hands through her hair and groaned. This was not a good start. She wanted to watch an Arashi concert online to de-stress, but she remembered that her computer was down. She was stuck doing her assignment.

After an hour, her eyes grew tired and she staggered to bed. The assignment would have to wait. And it did wait—for three days. Math, science, technology, and Japanese homework took priority, and she could not be bothered with the stupid English essay. But the deadline was approaching.

Her parents had told her that if she got a good grade in English, they would get her a concert ticket. Her essay was her last chance to bring up her mediocre grades and see her favorite boy band live… for the third and final time.

She took out her blank notebook and opened to the first page with the words “Mark-Stupid-Twain Language” written in pencil. She would have to change the title, but it was her honest feeling.

With a long sigh, she committed pencil to paper and wrote about the book she had skimmed through several weeks ago. The language was old and difficult to understand, which is probably what made it so belevible— beleiveble— Hang on, she thought. I need a dictionary, like right now. Oh my god, why is my computer down!

Her notebook and pencil went flying and joined Huckleberry Finn in the corner. She pushed her chair from her desk and raced to her older sister’s room. The door was closed, as usual, so she knocked and entered without waiting for a response.

Miku was on her bed reading Glitter magazine, her long bangs covered her Burberry frames. Upon seeing her sister enter without permission, she drew her dark hair curtains with her stubby fingers and said, “Hey, get out! What do you want?”

“I need your dictionary.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No way, Nana. Get out!”

Miku went back to her magazine and hummed an Arashi song. Nana slammed the door and went back to her chair.

God, I hate her! Why does she have to be like that?

The little hand on the clock was on the 10. She sat and tapped the desk and imagined what songs would be done at the show. She wondered what they would be wearing. What kind of dance steps would they do? Then she noticed that the little hand on the clock rested somewhere between 12 and 1!

She needed her sister’s electronic dictionary and was going to get it. She could not let Arashi down. Nobody stirred in the house. Now was her time to strike. She knew Miku never used her dictionary—and now Nana needed it more than ever.

Like a ninja in the night, she crept into the dark hallway and slinked into her sister’s room. She could not see much except dark forms of furniture, but she could hear Miku’s snoring. With small steps, she eased her way to the bookshelf where the dictionary collected dust, and took hold of the cold metal device. A smile of satisfaction crossed her lips. That’s when the lights went on.

“What the hell?” Miku said. “What are you doing in my room?”

She spied the dictionary in Nana’s white-knuckled clutches. “Put that back and get out of my room!”

“Please.” Nana couldn’t recall ever having used that word to her sister before. “I need the dictionary. It’s important. Please!”

Miku, half groggy, sat in thought and scrutinized her sister. “If I lend it to you, you have to do the dishes for me for the next three months.”

Three months? Is she kidding? But then she had a moment of clarity. Arashi.

“OK.”

“Well, take it and get out of here!”

Nana brought it out and went to her room. She grabbed her notebook and pencil from the floor and put them back on her desk. She opened the dictionary and hit the power button—but nothing happened. The batteries were dead, which is what she would be if she did not finish the paper.

She woke up late that Saturday morning and realized she only had two days left. After washing the breakfast dishes for Miku, she got some money from her mom to buy batteries. She figured one thousand yen would be enough. On the way to the electronics store, she passed by a small mom and pop grocery shop. The morning’s rice and soup at home was not enough. A donut, a candy bar, and a bottle of OJ were exactly what she needed, so she broke the bill, figuring she still had enough battery money.

The electronics store was just down the street, so she arrived in the battery section and figured she would have enough time to get her project underway before the afternoon started. The package containing the pair of triple A’s dangled on a metal rod right in front of her face, but the price sticker put them just out of her grasp. She was ten yen short! The sweet chocolate taste from the candy bar turned bitter.

Dejected, she made her way home and dragged her feet all the way back to her poster-filled room. She collapsed into her chair at her desk. No batteries, no essay, no Arashi.

Her bad luck finally got to her. She shoved the desk and screamed. The desk made a loud noise as it hit her wall, and she buried her face into her arms heaving sobs.

This is so stupid. I hate my life! Why doesn’t anything go right for me? Why do I—

Her thoughts stopped as the desktop lurched forward under her weight. It was uneven, and she had never noticed that before. After bending low, she noticed that a leg of the desk was short and had been supported by a grimy green book and the book’s thickness was just enough to give the desk balance.

Nana stooped under the desk and grabbed the book. The spine read “Japanese-English Dictionary.” She opened the front cover and there was an inscription: “To Junko. May this little book of words help you out when you need it most.”

It looked like her mom’s dictionary from when she was a junior high school student. And now it would help Nana to see her beautiful boys.

Then her mother came into the room yelling, “What was that noise? Is everything OK?”

Nana looked from the faded green book to her mom. “Yes, everything is fine now.”

“Good. It sounded like a bull was running through your room. Keep it down.”

Her mom left and Nana grabbed her notebook, pencil, and dictionary. She went to work on her bed.

Arashi, Arashi, I’m going to see Arashi.

With her mantra churning in her mind and her six favorite boys in the world motivating her, she wrote her rough draft, using her newfound dictionary more often than she liked. She grabbed Huckleberry Finn from the floor and combed through the pages searching through pages marked with Elmo post-its. She focused and let her pencil race across the page. Four hours later, she put her work down.

She could not suppress her smile.

A knock on the door startled her, and her mom came in carrying a box. “By the way, Nana, I forgot to mention that I brought in your computer to get it de-bugged, or whatever they call it. Anyway, it’s here and ready for you to use. You need to write a report, right? Well, maybe you can use the Internet to look up some helpful information—and not watch those concerts.”

Nana looked at her paper again, groaned, and then exhaled a sigh. “That’s OK, Mom. I needed the computer awhile ago, but I don’t need it anymore. I just finished the essay.”

“Well, that’s great. It could mean an Arashi ticket for you, if your grade goes up in English.”

Nana thought about how good her work was, smiled, and said, “Get the credit card out, Mom. I am going to Arashi!”

“Great. I’ll get two tickets, then.”

“One for me and a friend?”

Nana’s heart beat like a marching drum as her mind raced through which of her acquaintances would suddenly become her best friend.

“No, for you and your sister.”

She thought she heard thunder, or maybe it was the blood rushing to her ears. What the hell? Miku?

Her face must have been easy to read. Her mom said, “I asked her to lend you her dictionary because your computer was down.”

That bitch! I’ll kill her! First, for giving it to me with dead batteries! Then making me do her chores for three months for nothing! Calm, calm. Have to settle down. Just breathe, Nana. Breathe.

“To tell you the truth,” said Nana’s mom, “I had already gotten you two front row tickets.”
Nana’s jaw dropped. Her mother smiled and chuckled. “Well, Nana, I knew you’d be able to get your grade up. You have never let me or your father down yet.”

Nana screamed and said, “Front row tickets! Mom you’re the best!”

“Just make sure you get it done,” her mom said with a smile, as she turned and left.

Nana spent all day Sunday hammering away at the keys. Rat-a-tat-tat. Her mind remained focused, like a concert pianist playing for the Emperor in Tokyo. She needed a clean copy for Mr. Davidson. I’ll get the best score in the whole class with this!

That night she rested well, and that Monday morning she bounced out of her room before her alarm had a chance to go off. The last time she had been this excited was the day of her school’s festival in which her class sung an Arashi song to the attendees. She threw her uniform on and shoveled down some rice before running for an earlier train.

When she got to class, she beamed with pride and glory. However, Yumi, who sat next to Nana in class, stared into space with pouty lips. Nana eased herself down into her chair next to her troubled friend and said, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t believe it…”

“Believe what?”

“Haven’t you heard? Arashi may be cancelled.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I saw it on Myspace last night.”

“Oh, my God!”

“I know. I have a ticket in the upper section.”

I have front row…

The chimes indicating the start of class began their dulcet melody. Mr. Davidson was nowhere in sight. All the classmates looked at each other bewildered. Their mean-spirited teacher was never late.

Just then, the door opened and a strawberry-blond woman in her late fifties entered the classroom with several folders and said, “Uh, hello, class. My name is Ms. Blake. I’ll be your substitute teacher today.”

One of the classmates asked, “Where’s Mr. D?”

Unperturbed by the casual address of their missing teacher, she said, “Mr. Davidson had an unfortunate accident this weekend.”

Nana did not know whether to laugh or shout for joy!

“From what I heard, you will be glad to know that he is OK. He’s recovering in the hospital now. Apparently he was riding his bike in Ueno Park and ran into a big name celebrity—some musician, I think—who broke his legs and arm. I guess his group was going to have a farewell concert soon, but it has been cancelled. They were called something like Asahi—“

“Arashi!” the class chimed out in correction, nearly crying at the news.

“Right, that’s it. Anyway, I will send Mr. Davidson your well wishes, if you want. It sounds like you miss him. I received an email from him saying that you had a report due today. Please take them out and hand them in.”

Nana sat dumbfounded. Her hands tensed and clenched into fists. Mr. Davidson is the most evil person on the planet! He killed my last chance to see Arashi! He did it on purpose!

Nana screamed and threw her six-page report in the air, scattering the pages all around. She slammed her forehead on her table. Besides the ringing in her ears from the impact, all she could her was her teacher chuckling and saying, “No way, Nana. Arashi? No way.”