Hiking with Hibiki
Ryoga finished ripping apart the last of his yellow shirts. "Here ya go," he said as he handed another strip of cloth to Carla. She tied it in her hair as a headband.
"Well, I could have given you a bandana for that!" Ryoga yelled as she did it.
"Don't be so selfish!" she snapped.
"But that was my last shirt- Besides all the American ones Tony got me."
"Don't you have some more at home?"
"No, I don't! In fact, I'd even picked up my laundry the day before, so I don't have any other shirts!"
"That's really sad, man, you must have ripped up eight of these yellow ones alone. Three black. And five pairs of pants- two green, one black, one blue pair of cargo pants, which is a nice change of pace, Hibiki, and one that's sort of. Oh wait, that was green, too."
"An' all just for her to wear, too!" Ryoga sobbed. "Girls sure are vain," Toby added.
"Oh, give me a break!" Carla moaned. "You made them for me!"
"But you asked if I had any clothes to spare! Now all I have is my new stuff!"
Tony sighed. "Get over it, both of you. Let's just go to the airport."
"Got the tickets?" Tony nodded. "Got a passport?" Tony stopped.
".No. Maybe. What do they look like?" Ryoga reached into his backpack and held out a booklet.
"This is mine," he explained.
"Tri-lingual."
"I get stuck in China a lot. Actually, I have about four tri-lingual passports."
Tony opened it to the "English" page and read. "You're not an American citizen, " he argued, holding up the page and pointing at the 'citizenship' slot. Ryoga looked at where he was pointing, read it carefully- slowly-, nodded and smiled.
"Yes I am."
"No, you're not. It says here your home address is in Tokyo."
"But read on, it explains it."
Tony continued. "Dual-citizenship until 18, chose American. But you live in Japan, Ryo."
"I was born here. Boston."
"It says that. But it's not true. I mean, how could it be?"
"I. Well, my Mom. She was in labor, right? Contractions and stuff. But when she drove to the hospital."
"-That old 'Hibiki Directional Sense' kicked in, right."
Tony sighed. ".But. Tokyo to Boston?"
"She kinda. Drove on a plane. Broke water at the airport in Boston. Imagine hearing that story on your sixth birthday while trying to understand why everyone says you're American."
"Shi-i-i-it! She drove on the fuckin' plane?"
"Uh-huh. In labor at two miles up, broke water on the other side of the world. Pilot took her to the hospital an' everything, they were pretty kind about it."
"Nononono, you don' understand what I'm saying here. She drove on the fuckin' plane?"
"Trans-Atlantic Delta Airlines Flight 375. Which is why do this day I'm allowed to ride Delta for free. And I even got this neat little certificate and some pins and things from them in my room. In fact, maybe I still." He started to fish around in his pack again.
"You ride Delta for free?"
"And if it's a Japan-America flight, they put me in first class and give me free meals. But only me. See, it's all in there? In the little flap." Ryoga smiled again as he handed over the little booklet.
"So, we only need to buy one ticket?" Tony sighed. "But I've paid for two!"
Ryoga shrugged. "Carla, wanna go to Japan?"
* * *
They had to walk to the nearest parking lot to get a ride, about three miles away. Tony used a climbing spike to snap the lock, and they all climbed in, Ryoga manning the accelerator and clutch, Tony on the wheel and Carla as navigator.
Tony pulled out a CD case from his backpack. "Pick one," he told Carla.
"Ewww, there's nothing but bad music!" she whined. "Why don't you have anything by a good band?"
Ryoga grabbed a CD and slid it in. "What's 'Nirvana'?" he asked as he turned on the player. "That's not Buddhist chants or something, is it?"
"You kids have got to be shittin' me," Tony groaned.
"I'm 19."
"Right now, you're about 8."
"19."
"Whatever, Ryo. I'm turning the keys, hit the brake so I can switch gears." Ryoga stepped on the brake pad until Tony said he was in Drive.
"We gotta go about 45 miles per hour. Carla, keep track of our speed and tell Ryoga if we have to slow down or speed up."
"Who's Ryoga?"
Tony and Ryo sighed. "And we have to take this to Denver?" Tony moaned.
Ryoga finished ripping apart the last of his yellow shirts. "Here ya go," he said as he handed another strip of cloth to Carla. She tied it in her hair as a headband.
"Well, I could have given you a bandana for that!" Ryoga yelled as she did it.
"Don't be so selfish!" she snapped.
"But that was my last shirt- Besides all the American ones Tony got me."
"Don't you have some more at home?"
"No, I don't! In fact, I'd even picked up my laundry the day before, so I don't have any other shirts!"
"That's really sad, man, you must have ripped up eight of these yellow ones alone. Three black. And five pairs of pants- two green, one black, one blue pair of cargo pants, which is a nice change of pace, Hibiki, and one that's sort of. Oh wait, that was green, too."
"An' all just for her to wear, too!" Ryoga sobbed. "Girls sure are vain," Toby added.
"Oh, give me a break!" Carla moaned. "You made them for me!"
"But you asked if I had any clothes to spare! Now all I have is my new stuff!"
Tony sighed. "Get over it, both of you. Let's just go to the airport."
"Got the tickets?" Tony nodded. "Got a passport?" Tony stopped.
".No. Maybe. What do they look like?" Ryoga reached into his backpack and held out a booklet.
"This is mine," he explained.
"Tri-lingual."
"I get stuck in China a lot. Actually, I have about four tri-lingual passports."
Tony opened it to the "English" page and read. "You're not an American citizen, " he argued, holding up the page and pointing at the 'citizenship' slot. Ryoga looked at where he was pointing, read it carefully- slowly-, nodded and smiled.
"Yes I am."
"No, you're not. It says here your home address is in Tokyo."
"But read on, it explains it."
Tony continued. "Dual-citizenship until 18, chose American. But you live in Japan, Ryo."
"I was born here. Boston."
"It says that. But it's not true. I mean, how could it be?"
"I. Well, my Mom. She was in labor, right? Contractions and stuff. But when she drove to the hospital."
"-That old 'Hibiki Directional Sense' kicked in, right."
Tony sighed. ".But. Tokyo to Boston?"
"She kinda. Drove on a plane. Broke water at the airport in Boston. Imagine hearing that story on your sixth birthday while trying to understand why everyone says you're American."
"Shi-i-i-it! She drove on the fuckin' plane?"
"Uh-huh. In labor at two miles up, broke water on the other side of the world. Pilot took her to the hospital an' everything, they were pretty kind about it."
"Nononono, you don' understand what I'm saying here. She drove on the fuckin' plane?"
"Trans-Atlantic Delta Airlines Flight 375. Which is why do this day I'm allowed to ride Delta for free. And I even got this neat little certificate and some pins and things from them in my room. In fact, maybe I still." He started to fish around in his pack again.
"You ride Delta for free?"
"And if it's a Japan-America flight, they put me in first class and give me free meals. But only me. See, it's all in there? In the little flap." Ryoga smiled again as he handed over the little booklet.
"So, we only need to buy one ticket?" Tony sighed. "But I've paid for two!"
Ryoga shrugged. "Carla, wanna go to Japan?"
* * *
They had to walk to the nearest parking lot to get a ride, about three miles away. Tony used a climbing spike to snap the lock, and they all climbed in, Ryoga manning the accelerator and clutch, Tony on the wheel and Carla as navigator.
Tony pulled out a CD case from his backpack. "Pick one," he told Carla.
"Ewww, there's nothing but bad music!" she whined. "Why don't you have anything by a good band?"
Ryoga grabbed a CD and slid it in. "What's 'Nirvana'?" he asked as he turned on the player. "That's not Buddhist chants or something, is it?"
"You kids have got to be shittin' me," Tony groaned.
"I'm 19."
"Right now, you're about 8."
"19."
"Whatever, Ryo. I'm turning the keys, hit the brake so I can switch gears." Ryoga stepped on the brake pad until Tony said he was in Drive.
"We gotta go about 45 miles per hour. Carla, keep track of our speed and tell Ryoga if we have to slow down or speed up."
"Who's Ryoga?"
Tony and Ryo sighed. "And we have to take this to Denver?" Tony moaned.