Free The Ink-Keeper's Apprentice by Allen Say

it to be at least a month before the article came out, but Mr. Kato was back in less than two weeks. He was in an unusually good mood as he
took
a stack of new magazines out of his briefcase. Fresh off the press, he announced proudly. Tokida and I didn't dare pick up the magazine, but anxiously watched Sensei as he flipped through the pages. And there we were, the three of us in a full-page photograph. Sensei looked more serious than usual, and Tokida looked into the camera with a twisted mouth that was between a smile and a sneer. But it was myself that I secretly pored over. I was nearest the camera and looked larger than the other two, and because of the lens distortion my hands and one
Foot that
stuck out from under the table looked enormous. I wished I hadn't worn the silly grin on my face, but I did look friendly, and the picture pleased me. I looked at least as old as Tokida.
    "A good shot, don't you think?" said Mr. Kato.
    "Indeed," agreed Sensei. "A historical event. The likeness of Tokida is remarkable. What a trio of vagrants. I'll take five copies for posterity."
    "And please take note of the great piece of writing that goes with it," said Mr. Kato. "I'll have you know I have been promoted; that's my literary debut, and I'm inviting you all to dinner as promised." He gave Tokida and me a broad grin.
    A short article accompanied the photograph, mostly about Sensei, and a blurb about Tokida and me. Mr. Kato told us the magazine would be distributed throughout the country within a week.
    That evening I went to see Grandmother. I knew Mother had told her about Sensei, but I hadn't seen her since then, so I had no idea how she was going to greet me. My visit surprised her, but before she could react I handed her the magazine. She put on her rimless glasses, held the magazine at arm's length, and when she recognized me in the photograph her mouth dropped open in surprise.
    "Haa!" she exclaimed softly. She studied the cover, the back cover, inspected the spine of the thick magazine as if to see if it was real, then she went back to the photograph and stared at it.
    "That's Sensei." I pointed to my master, realizing she was looking only at me.
    "Not a handsome face, but it has dignity. He looks more like an author than a cartoonist," observed Grandmother. "And the one with pimples? Is he the boy from Osaka?"
    "Yes, that's Tokida. He's three years older than I."
    "A busy face, full of pressure, but intelligent. Some schooling would refine his face." She went back to looking at me. "Do you remember your grandfather?"
    "A little. He was tall, wasn't he?"
    "Very tall. You've taken after him. He was a handsome man when he was young."
    She handed me the magazine. "Read the article for me," she said, closing her eyes to listen. I read her the blurb about Tokida and me, pronouncing my name the way Sensei did.
    "'In this special issue, we are pleased to introduce to our readers for the first time our best-known cartoonist, Noro Shinpei, and his talented assistants, Tokida Kenji and Kiyoi Koichi. Tokida, on
the left, is a sixteen-year-old native of Osaka; he has been studying with Sensei for a year. Kiyoi, in the foreground, is a thirteen-year-old middle school student. He was born in Yokohama and attends the Aoyama Middle School here in Tokyo. Although the young men have been previously unknown to the public, our readers have been familiar with their work for some time, for it is Tokida and Kiyoi who put in the superbly drawn backgrounds for all of Noro Shinpei's serials. No doubt we will continue to enjoy their work in the years to come.'"
    Grandmother sat still, with her eyes closed. For a moment I thought she had fallen asleep, but then I noticed she was working her lips. She seemed to be struggling not to smile.
    "Koichi," she said and hesitated. "Where can I buy a copy of this?"
    "I brought this for you."
    "I will buy my own."
    "Don't be silly, Grandmother. Sensei gave me an extra copy; this one is for you. And even if you