The Night Parade (15 page)

In the span of a few steps, the dirt road became a tiny village. The umbrella dove behind a building, and Saki lost sight of the thief. The houses around the village were small and very old. Some had reed thatching, like her grandmother's house, but some were nothing more than wooden shacks.

On the tips of her wooden geta, Saki crept around the building the umbrella had darted behind. She leaned her ear to the wall for the telltale thumps of the umbrella's handle on the ground. The village was eerily quiet. Saki sneaked along the side of the house, edging toward the corner. Every muscle in her body tensed as she leapt out to grab the strange creature.

Her hands caught nothing but air. The umbrella had vanished. There was a tap on her shoulder.

Saki turned her head into a face full of umbrella paper. The umbrella leapt back, flexing its joints and shaking the pouch of marbles in a silent taunt.

“You little…I'll take you apart!”

Saki swiped, but the umbrella jumped out of reach. It bounced through the village as she gave chase around curves and between houses. When she couldn't run anymore, her knees hit the ground and she collapsed in the middle of the road. After a few seconds of silence, the umbrella leaned out from behind a house to peer at her.

Saki sat in the dirt, sniffled, and wiped her nose on her collar. The umbrella took a small hop forward. Saki turned her eyes downward and heaved a heavy sigh.

“If I don't get my curse lifted, something really bad will happen…” She dropped her head between her knees. “I guess there's…there's nothing I can do now.”

She started to wail. The umbrella came closer. It fanned out its paper half-heartedly, and Saki raised her head, tears in her eyes.

“What do you care? Just take them.”

It dipped down and swayed, as if suddenly full of remorse, then ruffled its paper again.

“What do you want now?” She stood up and brushed the dirt off her nightclothes, giving another thick sniff for good measure. “You made me cry. You can't just mope around and expect me to forgive you.”

The umbrella trembled.

Saki narrowed her eyes. “Well, maybe if I can have a hug…”

The umbrella snapped to attention. It waddled to Saki like an eager puppy.

With a carefully timed quiver in her lip, Saki wrapped one arm around the paper. With her other hand, she reached around and plucked the bag of marbles off the umbrella's handle. The umbrella tried to open in protest, but Saki tightened her grip, and its folds stayed firmly shut.

“Aha!” A wicked grin spread across her face. “Gotcha.”

She pushed the umbrella away but kept a tight grip on her pouch. It hopped back in shock as its paper began to shake.

“Hey, don't be mad that you fell for it. I have a lot of experience with crocodile tears. I do have a younger brother, after all.”

The umbrella's shaking carried all the way down to its tip, as though it would spring after her at any moment. Then the object toppled to the dirt, rolling in a flurry of giggles. For the first time, a real sound reached Saki's ear. The umbrella spirit's laugh was like a wheezy cough.

All around her, different laughs poured out from the village houses. Sandals came out and laughed scratchy, dry laughs. Wooden pots laughed with deep voices that echoed through their chambers. The lanterns in the trees sounded like hot wax sizzling in a cool breeze. Old, battered objects collected in the road to laugh at the trick she'd played on the umbrella.

The tanuki slid up to her side. His fur tickled the skin on her leg as he shook the sweat off his brow.

“Looks like you don't need me to make introductions. I see you've met the locals.”

“What is this place?” Saki asked as a battered abacus clacked out of a nearby hut.

A low desk trotted through the crowd of objects. On its back rode a string of prayer beads, the same kind that Saki's grandfather used to use in his temple services. Parts of the painted surface had rubbed away, leaving a pair of beads that looked like gray-pupiled eyes.

In a clicking voice, the string of beads declared, “This is Tsukumogami Village, the Village of the Object Spirits. So you are the breather that the rumors have spoken about.”

Saki looked down to the ground and flushed. After her confrontation with the shrine's army, she doubted the gossip was anything good.

“I didn't mean to cause trouble,” she mumbled.

The object spirits laughed as if she'd told another funny joke.

“Why not?” strummed a broken biwa. A few of its strings had snapped, but its voice was still a jumble of music. “Without a little mischief, this world would be way too boring.”

“We love a little excitement,” chorused a group of sandals.

“Even from a breather,” added a squat wood stove.

The tanuki spun around in a circle. “Then you'll love what we've got planned next. We're gonna crash the prince's palace!”

A wave of awe washed over the crowd. The umbrella popped its joints all the way up in surprise.

“Impossible,” muttered the prayer beads.

“We don't exactly have time on our side,” said Saki, “so if it's all right with you, we really should be moving on.”

“We must caution you against your errand. Beyond our village, the road is far too dangerous. One of our companions has already been taken by the foul beasts that wander the forest beyond,” said the beads.

Turning back was no longer an option. Saki patted the pouch of marbles in her pocket. “I have a few tricks of my own. I appreciate the warning, but I don't have the option of taking my time.”

“Wait a moment,” said the prayer beads. “Those are the mountain witch's gems, are they not? It's said they can defeat even the most vicious of beasts.”

The object spirits stared at her with rapt attention. Saki shrugged in a vain effort to push their gaze away.

“I'd rather not find out. My first plan is to sneak past without getting caught.”

“If you have no intention of using the gems for yourself, perhaps it would not trouble you to grant us a favor?”

The object spirits pressed closer. The umbrella hopped near enough to brush its paper against her arm. She clutched the pouch of marbles with both hands, just in case. The prayer beads paused for a breath, or whatever else object spirits did to calm themselves, before continuing.

“Our village has been plagued by a group of ogres who dwell in the forest off the road. They rarely pass into the village, but they have intercepted many of our kind who stray beyond the village boundaries. Their interference is typically limited to harassment and mischief making, but now they've added abduction to their list of crimes against us. Our good friend, the cotton shroud, has not been seen for days. We searched high and low but found no trace.”

“Are you sure your friend isn't playing a trick on you?” Saki asked. This particular village seemed like a place where that explanation was the rule rather than the exception.

The prayer beads rattled. “We are absolutely certain. If you continue down the road, you will see for yourself where the ogres have wreaked their havoc. Please, you must help us.”

“Hold on a second. I'm not saying I don't feel for you, but I'm in a big hurry. I can't just stop everything to go on a rescue mission.”

“Yes, a rescue mission!” the other object spirits exclaimed, completely oblivious to the protest. The straw sandals stomped on the ground, the biwa plucked its strings in a jaunty tune, and all of the other spirits joined in with an impromptu dance.

“Rescue the shroud!”

“Protect the village!”

“Show those ogres who's boss!” yipped the tanuki, swept up in the excitement of the moment. His perky ears withered under Saki's glare. “Uh, I mean, whatever you decide, sweetheart.”

“We will not waste your time,” said the prayer beads. “There are many shortcuts along the road that will lead one to the mountain summit. After the shroud is rescued, we shall escort you there ourselves.”

The tanuki tugged on her clothes for attention.

“I know you're on a pretty strict deadline, but these folks could really use your help. They ain't got a lot of options out here in the sticks.”

“Tonight is my last chance. What's going to happen if I don't make it in time?”

“That I can't tell you, kid. Your guess is as good as mine.” The tanuki slid away to avoid her gaze. “All's I'm saying is that if you're gonna make the call, better make it quick.”

Though the object spirits had no real eyes, all of their attention was focused on Saki. Their only hope of saving their friend rested with her. But as she looked to the horizon and saw the even forest, without even the barest hint of a mountain slope, her fear dug in deep.

“Look, I can't fight an ogre. I'm just a kid.”

“You said yourself that your best skill was sneaking around without being caught,” said the prayer beads. “If we can return the cotton shroud without any confrontation, it would spare the village from the ogre's retribution.”

“I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do.” Guilt twisted in her stomach like a greasy eel, but she bit her tongue and let the matter rest.

The tanuki butted between Saki and the object spirits.

“Arright, you guys. Girl says she can't do it. We all best be moving along.”

The object spirits lingered for a moment. An old mosquito net was the first to turn its back and slink back into one of the houses. The energy in the crowd fizzled and died. One by one, the object spirits began to disperse. Soon, only the umbrella and the prayer beads stood with Saki in the village square.

She groaned and held up her hands in surrender. The eel had won.

“Wait. Just…wait. I'll help you, okay?”

In a flash, the object spirits returned and descended upon her. Saki was almost knocked over by a joyful charge from the umbrella. A small army of sandals flopped at her feet as an old wood stove tried to give her a hug.

The prayer beads were quick to put together the expedition party. For a village full of jokesters, the object spirits were surprisingly organized. Saki and the tanuki were joined by three mismatched straw sandals, a wooden rice pot, and a painted cup-and-ball toy. The umbrella and the prayer beads both agreed to lead the group to the ogres' den.

As they set off down the road, the biwa tagged along behind Saki. It strummed a three-note song and used the end of its broken string to conduct the march.

“When we have finished with the ogres, you must tell me your tales,” said the biwa. “I am a composer, you see. I will perform a glorious opus to commemorate your victories.”

“Wow, that sounds pretty amazing. Could you play one?” she asked.

The biwa's notes pitched up, and its melody turned fast and frantic.

“Uh, well, they're not ready yet. I'm still, uh, working on some of the arrangements.”

The rice pot let out a hearty laugh. “You've been singing that same tune for the last hundred years. Don't expect much from that one, little breather.”

The tanuki was having a grand time with the object spirits. They shared a love for pranks and childish humor that quickly devolved into a contest of slapstick routines. The tanuki emerged as the clear victor, as none of the object spirits could match his violent explosions of gas. The procession was interrupted and forced to a halt more than once by objects rolling along the ground in fits of laughter. The merriment was enough to break the biwa out of its embarrassment, and it struck up some tunes to orchestrate the silliness.

Every second they stood idle, Saki looked again to the horizon. There was still no sign of the mountain. During one of the many delays, she told the prayer beads all about the curse and the previous nights she'd walked the Night Parade.

“Your predicament sounds dire indeed,” the beads said when the tale was through. “But I would not lose hope. You are a resourceful human girl, and you have learned to navigate our world quicker than I would have expected of a breather.”

“Thanks,” Saki said. “But I'm having a little trouble figuring out this road we're on. And your village too, for that matter. Why don't you live with the other spirits in the shrine?”

The prayer beads drooped. “We're not welcome among many of the natural spirits. They see our origins as an embarrassment.”

“Why would they think that?”

“You breathers have everything so easy, both humans and regular spirits. You get a soul just by being born, without ever having to work for one. But we object spirits have to exist for a hundred years before we can gain a soul. Most of us don't make it that far, and the ones that do… Well, you know what happens. Unless we're expensive or rare, we just get tossed out with the rubbish.”

“Do you remember what it was like before you gained your souls?” Saki asked. If they had all been objects in the real world, it explained why the spirits were so comfortable being around a human.

“It's not really a memory,” explained the beads. “It's a lack of memory, like a hole that we can't fill. But we can tell whether or not we were cared for. We get our souls from the energy that people put into us. If that energy was good, the spirit will be good. If that energy was bad or neglectful…”

Saki thoughts drifted back to all of the boxes that she'd sorted for trash with Grandma. She hadn't been able to tell the exact ages of all the things in the storage room, though it was possible a few of them were nearing their hundredth birthday. Saki swallowed a pang of remorse as the prayer beads continued.

“An object that was crafted with great care is more likely to have a strong soul. I suppose in that way, we have parents, just like you breathers.”

“So are you saying that every object I touch absorbs my energy?”

“There's not a lot made these days that follows the old rules. They get thrown away or replaced in just a few years. Besides, there's too much interference. That stuff that runs through the black cords, it's all over now. We can't stand it. It pulls our energy right out.”