The Wishing Trees by John Shors Page A

offering, surprised by Mattie’s skill, delighted by her gift. “It is beautiful, Mattie-chan,” she said. “You do me a great honor by giving such beauty to me. I am undeserving of it.”
    Mattie shook her head. “I’m glad you’re happy, Akiko-san. And that you like my drawing.”
    “Your drawing reminds me of all those wonderful spring days. And I am going to put it somewhere special in our home. Where my mother and I can look at it and smile.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes. And, Mattie-chan, please trust me when I say that you will be happy. That the snow will melt.”
    Mattie looked at her host, wanting to believe Akiko’s words, repeating them in her mind. But she didn’t know if happiness would find her again. She’d always longed to have a little sister, and that now seemed unlikely. She’d wanted to show so many more of her drawings to her mother but now never would. It was as if each of her childhood dreams had been turned into a glass bottle and thrown from a moving car.
    Still, Mattie wanted to try to be happy, even though these days she was far more familiar with tears than smiles. And so she thanked Akiko again, sipped her green tea, and pretended not to notice that her father felt and acted the same way she did.

    THE NEXT MORNING, A BULLET TRAIN LEFT downtown Tokyo, accelerating with breathtaking speed and grace. The interior of the train car that carried Mattie and Ian hardly seemed to move. Nothing rattled. No bumps or sways were felt. A girl walking down the wide aisle didn’t have to hold on to anything. The train glided forward in an almost magical fashion, seeming to hover above the rails instead of rolling over them. Outside the long windows, Tokyo rushed past, cars becoming blurry, people nearly impossible to discern.
    “It’s like being on a plane, isn’t it?” Mattie asked.
    Ian stretched out in his chair, looking around, impressed with the mode of transportation. “It’s better than a plane, luv,” he said. “It’s always right on time. There’s no turbulence or danger. It’s a heap more comfortable. And it’ll get you anywhere in a tick.” He pointed to an electronic sign at the end of the long, gleaming cabin. “See those numbers? That’s our speed. When we reach the countryside those numbers will jump like roos in the bush. I reckon we’ll hit two hundred miles an hour.”
    “Wow,” Mattie replied, looking outside, then about the cabin. She couldn’t believe how large the interior of the train car was. “It’s like being in a spaceship.”
    “Kind of wallops the subway back home, doesn’t it?”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “How about a bit of homework, luv? Remember, you’re supposed to study three hours a day. That’s the deal we made with your teacher.”
    “No, not now, Daddy. Please not now. I want to draw the train.”
    “We’ll be in here for a while.”
    “Please.”
    He reached into his day pack and removed her history book, putting it on his lap. “Fine, luv. But when you’re done, we’re going to have a go at this. Joan of Arc, of all people, isn’t going to run away and hide.”
    As Mattie got out her sketch pad, Ian glanced at the city. Skyscrapers were no longer everywhere, but scattered about. The train continued to accelerate, quietly powered by electricity. A pair of businessmen seated behind Ian and Mattie started to speak in Japanese, the sound of their voices pulling Ian into the past. He had overheard such voices a thousand times on the train, returning from work or dinner with Kate. They’d often eavesdropped on the conversations around them, trying to decipher nuggets of information.
    Thinking about Kate, about nearing the place where they met and fell in love, made Ian’s pulse quicken. He was afraid of what he would see. His days in Kyoto by Kate’s side had been among his best. On their mountain bikes, they’d explored the city. On foot, they’d made almost daily climbs into the mountains behind their apartment.
    Ian didn’t believe