The legendary mo seto, p.12
The Legendary Mo Seto, page 12
“Howdy.” Gramps’s voice comes on after one ring.
“Hi, Gramps, it’s Mo,” I shout excitedly at the phone. “So, I kinda need a guardian present at the movie audit—”
“Say no more,” Gramps shouts back. “Anything for my favorite unofficial grandkid. Text me the address. I’ll be there tomorrow bright and early, ten a.m. sharp.”
“The auditions start at nine—”
“I’ll be there at nine a.m. sharp!”
“—but we need to go earlier to talk to the casting director.”
“Eight thirty it is,” Gramps howls.
“Don’t be late,” Nacho calls.
“I’m never late!”
CHAPTER 27 KNOCK ’EM DEAD, GRANDDAUGHTER
Gramps is late.
I wait outside the warehouse doors wearing my usual three sweatshirts. Sweatshirt is right. The sun’s blazing today, and I’m dripping buckets in the summer heat.
“Hey, kid, it’s almost nine,” Dean, the security guard, calls to me.
“I’m waiting for my, uh, gramps.”
“Not a good idea. Even I know that Director Leo hates when actors are late—especially to auditions.”
“But—”
“Tell you what, kid. I’ll send your gramps right in as soon as I see him. Guessin’ he looks like an old guy? White hair, wrinkles? Sound ’bout right?”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Right, kid. Go. I gotcha.” Dean waves at me to go inside.
“Thanks, Dean!”
I tear through the hall and whip out my phone to check the time—8:59—and oof. I run straight into Vivi.
“Oh, here you are, Mona.” Vivi sounds annoyed. “I thought you and your mom would come early today. She is coming, isn’t she?”
“No, but—”
“Mona. I told you I can’t let you continue to audition unless I speak with your mom.”
“She’s not…”
I hear footsteps and heavy breathing. Someone rounds the corner. “How about if you speak with her grandpa instead?” Gramps wheezes. He’s wearing a brown tweed suit and a pink bow tie. He even has a matching brown tweed fedora with a feather on the side. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him dressed up.
Vivi stares at him. Then she looks at me. Then back to Gramps. “You’re Mona’s grandpa?”
Gramps doesn’t even hesitate. He puts a hand on my shoulder and says, “If Mona’s not my grandkid, my name isn’t Walter.”
Which, technically, isn’t a lie, since Gramps’s name is Felipe.
Vivi nods. “Okay.” She holds out her hand, and Gramps shakes it heartily. “It’s good to meet you, Walter. I’m Vivi, the casting director for The Protégé.” She looks at me. “Mona, you may go. I’m going to chat with your grandpa for a bit.” She turns to Gramps. “I’ll walk you to the guardians’ waiting room.”
I run down the hall.
“Knock ’em dead, granddaughter,” Gramps calls loudly after me.
Gramps really should’ve been in movies.
* * *
We’re finishing a series of combinations when I hear a loud clearing of the throat.
“AHHHHEEEEMMMM.”
Cody is at the door, wearing a martial art uniform. But not just any martial art uniform. This one is bright purple with a black-and-yellow striped belt. I can’t think of a single martial art that has a black-and-yellow striped belt. Forget 101 Dalmatians, it looks like Cody Kwok skinned 101 bumblebees to make it.
“I’m back,” Cody announces.
“Master Cody, are you okay?” Sanjay bounces on his heels excitedly.
“Yes, my young apprentice,” Cody says. “A most unfortunate accident. But a light fixture, even one falling so fast and from such a great height, is no match for a fearless warrior like myself.” He proudly touches the Hello Kitty bandage on his cheek. “Now for something exciting—”
“Mr. Kwok,” Jun interrupts. “If you’ll give us a few minutes, we have one more kick for today.” Jun eyes Cody. “Unless, of course, you’d like to show us all how to do a 540 kick.”
“Master,” Cody reminds him. “And I would love to, but I’m still injured.” He limps a few steps as if to prove his point. “Anyway, I see you’ve narrowed down the prospects. Good.” He turns to us, ignoring Jun’s request to finish auditions. “Your reward for making it this far is…” Cody stops for dramatic effect. “To join me today at the museum.”
Jun walks out of the room, his gloved hands balled by his sides.
“Cody,” the Beard says. “The children are tired, and their parents are waiting for them.”
“Nonsense. The new Ancient Weapons exhibit is precisely what they need to prepare them for this role.”
Ancient weapons. Like swords and spears and longbows?
“I want to go,” I cry out before I can stop myself.
“And so you shall, er…” Cody leans over to Thing One, who consults a clipboard and whispers something into Cody’s ear. “Mona.”
Cody Kwok said my name. I don’t even care that it’s not my real name. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would hang out with Cody Kwok in person, let alone have him say my name-ish!
I feel like I just executed the most perfect 540 kick in the world.
The Beard agrees to let us go if our guardians can get us there. Then he tells us to come back early tomorrow. “Since there are only five of you left, we won’t make any cuts today,” he says.
Cody lumbers into a chauffeured limo, followed by his assistants. Four other men are already inside. They are big and burly, with dark sunglasses and dark suits.
“They’re probably his bodyguards,” Sanjay whispers.
“Why does he need so many?” I wonder out loud. “Who’d dare mess with Cody Kwok?”
Sanjay shrugs. “Maybe he can’t fight when he’s injured? Or he doesn’t want to get his clothes all messed up?”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
Sanjay’s parents and Gramps join us, talking nonstop about Cody. We trail half a block behind Dax and the twins. Dax’s guardian is a dark-skinned woman with braids who looks like she’s in her twenties. Maybe his sister? The twins’ mom is tall, with the same glossy brown hair as the twins. She’s wearing a really tight dress with a really big handbag dangling from her arm. She walks between the twins, fussing over their uniforms and patting down their hair.
Two blocks and four minutes of walking later, we arrive at the museum. A crowd is gathered on the wide steps leading to the main building. In the middle stands Cody, signing autographs and posing for selfies. A reporter brushes past me, followed by a camera person holding a huge video camera. They stop in front of Cody and shove a mic into his face.
“Cody Kwok. It’s a pleasure. What brings you to Dost Valley?”
Cody flashes a dazzling smile straight at the video camera. “I’m here to film my next movie, The Protégé. It’s about a brilliant warrior—me, of course—who trains a young fighter. In fact, here are some protégé hopefuls now.” Cody waves a hand for Dax and the twins to join him on the steps. As the boys make their way through the crowd, Cody tips a finger at each of them, his mouth forming the words “one,” “two,” and “three.” He wrinkles his nose as if he’s thinking hard. “I seem to recall that there was another kid… or maybe two.”
“We’re here!” I jump as high as I can and wave my hand.
Gramps yells, “Make way. Future movie star coming through.”
A path appears for Sanjay and me. Reporters shout over the screams of the growing crowd, and Gramps whoops along with them.
“What a story! Cody Kwok seeks the next martial arts movie star.”
“Get a photo of Cody and the kids.”
“From Ordinary Joe to Hollywood Hopeful.”
“Go get ’em, granddaughter!”
As soon as we reach Cody, a microphone appears in front of me. “What’s your name?” asks a reporter wearing a cherry-red suit with matching cherry-red lips.
“Uh, Mona Wong.”
“Mona, tell me, how do you feel about starring in a movie with the legendary Cody Kwok?”
“Well—” I stop short. There, a few people back from the reporter, watching me, is a bearded man wearing a black hoodie and dark sunglasses. Fear surges inside me, and I take a step back. Cherry Suit waves a hand in my face. Her bright lips are moving, but all I can hear is the crowd—yelling, clapping, cheering, thunderous. I look back into the surge of reporters and cameras and screaming fans, but the man is gone.
Where did he go?
A pounding sound fills my ears.
What does he want?
CHAPTER 28 YOU ARE NOT HELPLESS
I feel small and helpless.
You may be small, but you are not helpless, Mouse. I hear Dad’s voice in my head. We live in a safe neighborhood, but when I was little, he taught me how to clutch my keys between my fingers like claws for when I walk home from school alone.
“Harder,” Dad said, holding out a punching paddle in our backyard. “I want this paddle to fly out of my hand.”
When all I needed was a boost to reach a tree limb, no matter how many times I asked, Dad refused to lift me to the lowest branch. Half a day—and countless scrapes and cuts—later, I made it to the top of the tree. All by myself. Dad acted like I’d scaled Mount Everest.
But that was when I was still winning tournaments, when Dad was always home, when he still believed in me….
“I said, what are your thoughts on starring in a movie with Cody Kwok?” Cherry Suit repeats.
Before I can reply, Dax shoves me out of the way.
“I’m Dax Washington. I can’t wait to be in a movie with Cody Kwok. I also wanna say that I’m so honored to be working with Jun Ouyang, Director Leo, and Casting Director Vivi. I hope they all see what a great fit I am for the role.”
Definitely a suck-up. I glare at him. What else would Dax do to win?
Another microphone appears. “What martial art do you practice?” a new reporter asks. Dax immediately leans into the mic.
I take one last scan of the crowd. The man in the black hoodie really is gone. I’ll worry about him later, but right now the fight is here. I can’t let Jun and the Beard and Vivi see Dax soaking up all the attention. I step in front of Dax. “I practice an ancient Chinese martial art. It’s really cool.” I speak into the mic, making sure I don’t leave any pauses for Dax to snake his way into.
“Can you show us a move?”
“Sure!”
Mom never watches the news. But what about Dad? a voice in the back of my mind nags.
How would he know? He’s all the way in Beijing, and I doubt he gets local Dost Valley news. Even if he does, he won’t know it’s me. I’m not Mo. I’m Mona! I brush the voice in my mind aside. At the urging of the reporter, the crowd takes a step back to make room. A bunch of video cameras are aimed at me. Even Cody, who was talking up a storm to a reporter, is silent and staring at me from a few steps away.
I inhale deeply. Which move should I do? The Firefly Frolics. Yes. If I can do it properly, that technique is sure to knock everyone’s socks off. If…
“Ready when you are,” Cherry Suit says, leaning forward.
I move my body into the distinctive first position, flicking my fingers in front of me like a firefly’s light, or the lively spark of a candle’s wick. A surefire way to distract an enemy.
I pause. Can I do this properly? I practiced it a few times at home, but that’s very different from doing it in front of a huge crowd….
In my moment of hesitation, a glint catches my eye. It could be sunlight bouncing off a camera lens. Or a wristwatch. Or a cell phone. A second later I catch the blur of something shiny flying straight at us. Straight at Cody.
You are not helpless, Mouse.
I throw myself into Cody, slamming him to the ground. Incredibly the shiny object bends like a curveball as it whizzes above us. It slices into the video camera lens closest to me. Both the lens and the object fall to the ground. The lens shatters into a million pieces, and the object makes a loud CLANG. It’s a pinwheel with four lethally pointed ends and razor-sharp blades—a shuriken. A throwing star. There’s a half second of silence, and then…
Cherry Suit starts screaming.
The camera person starts screaming.
Cody Kwok starts screaming.
Pandemonium breaks loose.
One of Cody’s bodyguards hauls him over his back. Another lifts me and does the same. The other bodyguards round up Dax, the twins, and Sanjay, and follow us to Cody’s limo, shoving reporters and fans out of the way.
Inside the limo the bodyguard drops me onto the softest white leather seat ever. I sit across from Cody as the others pile in. My heart is beating so fast, it feels like a drumroll. Through the window, I see Gramps stuck in the crowd.
“Wait! Gramps is still out there.”
“Call and tell your guardians to meet you back at the studio,” the driver says. “We’ll drop you off there.”
The limo speeds off, and everyone starts talking at once.
“That was intense!”
“Who threw that?”
“Did you see the ninja star slice through the camera?”
Dax turns to me. “Decent reflexes, Mona,” he says grudgingly.
“Master Cody, does someone want to kill you?” asks Sanjay, the direct one. “Or maybe it was a fan? I’ve read that some fans can get really rowdy. That’s why being a movie star might not be the best job in the world. You need to worry about so many things, like who’s taking your picture, or what to wear, or which parties to go to—wait. That last one sounds awesome. I love going to parties. Let me tell you about this party I went to…”
Sanjay continues talking, but Cody doesn’t seem to hear him. He’s hunched over on his seat, snug between two bodyguards, and hyperventilating into a brown paper bag. I watch the paper bag puff up, shrink down, puff up, shrink down, wondering why Cody needs a paper bag at all.
Before long the limo drops us off at the warehouse doors, and Gramps arrives before any of the other guardians. He looks like he ran the entire way. Before the auditions I didn’t even know Gramps could walk quickly.
He’s breathing hard, and his eyes are wide and glassy, like he’s seen a ghost. “Come with me,” he grunts. His wheezing fills the silence.
I unlock my bike and follow him, feeling nothing but dread. He’s going to tell me to quit the auditions, I know it. He’s going to tell Mom. He’s going to—
“Modesty Seto. That. Was. Brilliant.” We reach Gramps’s blue Buick.
“What?”
“Look at you—saving movie stars.” A pink flush sweeps over Gramps’s face, sinking into every wrinkle like a sunrise upon rippling ocean waves.
I lean my bike against his car. “You don’t think that was, uh, dangerous?”
Gramps looks thoughtful. “Well, gosh, I suppose it was, wasn’t it? But you’re okay? All in one piece?” He jiggles his arm, then the other, then one leg, then the other, and motions for me to do the same.
I copy him.
“Good.” He looks satisfied. “As I always tell Nacho, kids these days are so soft.” He claps his hands together. “Back when I was a young’un, I walked ten miles to school every day. Sometimes wearing shoes, sometimes not. Once, I was attacked by a coyote and came home with deep scratches all over my arms. Ma just handed me a bottle of Merbromin—you know what that is?” I shake my head. “It’s that orange stuff that stains your skin. Oh, never mind that. All to say, you need to get your blood pumping once in a while.”
Gramps breathes in deeply, like he’s inhaling a delicious scent. A radiant smile appears, and he leans back on his car.
“This was the most interesting day I’ve had in a long, long time. Mona Wong, I’m proud to have you as my fake grandkid.”
CHAPTER 29 YOU HAVE A DOPPELGÄNGER
DING-DONG.
“Daughter, can you get the door?”
“Okay, Mom,” I holler from my room, where I’m practicing Earthworm Leaps into Heaven. And by “practicing” I mean trying my hardest not to crash onto the floor. Again. Remembering that look on the Beard’s face yesterday still makes me cringe.
I growl at the illustrated figure on the page, who looks like she’s completing the kick as effortlessly as breathing, before shoving my booklet under my pillow. Winding a towel around my hair, I dash downstairs.
“Who is it?” I call through the front door.
“It’s Mrs. Garcia, dear.”
“And Nacho.”
Why would they be here so late?
“Hi, Mrs. Garcia,” I say, holding open the door.
Mrs. Garcia rushes past me, and stops only to kick off her shoes. “Mo, dear, where’s your mother?” She disappears down the hall.
Someone’s shaking my elbow. “Are you okay?” Concern clouds Nacho’s brown eyes. He continues in a hushed tone without taking a breath, “We saw what happened on the news. You saved Cody Kwok from a shuriken? Are you hurt? You didn’t answer my text. Was Gramps there? Why didn’t he call me about this?”
“I didn’t see your text. I was in the shower.” I clutch Nacho’s sleeve, my hands turning icy cold. “Wait, you saw? Is your mom here to tell my mom? Does she”—I lower my voice to a whisper—“know about me?”
Nacho shakes his head. “She thinks—Just come. You’ll see.”
We hurry into the living room. Mrs. Garcia is perched on the sofa next to my mom and is holding our TV remote. Justis is trying to grab it from her hands.
“It was the strangest thing. We were watching the news, and this came on.” Mrs. Garcia clicks over to our local news channel, and Cody’s face pops onto the screen.
Mom shakes her head. “Lucy, you know I think the nightly news is just pure sensationalism.”
“I want you to see something,” Mrs. Garcia replies.
An image of a reporter sitting in a studio appears. “If you’re just joining us now, we are showing footage from earlier today. International martial arts superstar Cody Kwok had a near-death experience outside the Dost Valley Museum of History.”
