Read Online Xander and the Lost Island of Monsters by Margaret Dilloway - Free Book Online Page A

of the house by making a line of sugar water for them to follow. “He studied fairy tales,” I argued, feeling defensive.
    â€œHe studied historical events.” Obāchan goes silent, letting this sink in.
    I blink at her. “What do you mean?”
    Peyton gets it first. “I’m sorry, what?” Peyton stands up and unfurls his long arms. “Are you saying that fairy tales are historical events? Jack and the Beanstalk? Cinderella?”
    â€œNot all. The ones Xander’s father studied.” Obāchan points to the ground. “Now, please sit down and let me finish telling.”
    Peyton scowls and looks at me. I shrug. He shrugs back and returns his bottom to the floor. Obāchan opens the closet and takes out one of my belts. She secures the octopus and monkey netsuke to it before she speaks again. “Did you read your story of Momotaro?”
    â€œMy story?” I’m confused. “You mean the comic book Dad gave me?”
    Obāchan clucks at me. “
You
made it, Xander.”
    So it’s true. I drew it. But why don’t I remember that? I sit down on my bed, feeling dizzy and nauseated. Inu lies down at my feet, puts one huge paw over my toe, and whines as if to tell me not to worry. I scratch his head. Inu always makes me feel better.
    Obāchan sighs and closes her eyes for a second. “Xander, this is not how we wanted you to find out. Your father wanted to protect you for as long as we could. Momotaro is a real story.”
    Inu howls like a werewolf, cracking the air. My stomach knots up even more. What is she talking about? Demons, here? Momotaro, real? Maybe the earthquake gave her a stroke. She is super old, after all. “Okay, Obāchan. Do you know what year it is?”
    She ignores the question. “All the bad things in the world today?” Obāchan says. “It’s the oni.”
    â€œThe oni?” Peyton asks.
    Obāchan takes a canteen from the closet, goes into the bathroom, and opens the tap. She tastes the water and makes a face. “Eh. No worse than usual.” Then she turns back to us. “War? The oni. Disasters? The oni. A fire eating the South Pole?”
    I wait for her to say she’s kidding.
    She doesn’t. “You’ve seen all the horrible tragedies happening around us. That means the oni are very strong indeed. Momotaro is the warrior who keeps them at bay. Your father is a Momotaro. So were your grandfather and your great-grandfather. All the way back to the original, who appeared when the world was in need of him.”
    I sag, practically collapsing on the bed. At the same time, I note that Obāchan used the present tense when she talked about Dad this time. A small flare of hope heats my chest. Does she think he’s still alive? I don’t know. I’m so confused. “What? You’re telling me I came out of a peach?”
    Peyton giggles nervously. “Peach boy. Cute little fuzzy peach boy.” If I could reach, I’d sock him.
    Obāchan talks fast. “No. You were born from your parents. But when a boy in our line is old enough, or when it’s necessary, you become a Momotaro.”
    Before I have time to process this, my grandmother grabs my hand and turns it over. She pries the lid off the octopus’s box and shakes some big grains of salt into my palm. “In Japan, salt is sacred. In the old days, and sometimes still in certain places, we sprinkle salt at our doorways to keep out the oni. It is one weapon.”
    My head aches. I slump on the floor. “And here I thought it was only good for putting on food.” The room feels like it’s spinning really fast. “Obāchan, come on. You’re saying I’m destined to be some grand warrior….” I search for words. “And you’re telling me all this
now
?” My voice squeals. It does that sometimes, unfortunately.
    Peyton snorts, his face fading back into its usual