The Night Parade (21 page)

“That is very kind of you. However, I cannot accept this as a gift. It is something far too close to your heart. I will keep it only until you return to claim it. Is that agreeable?”

Saki nodded, and the prince smiled once more.

“Now, we must send you back where you belong.”

He touched one thumb to her forehead. In an instant, Saki's body became weightless, her arms floating up at her sides as he completed the silent ritual.

“We will always be around you, though you may not see us with your eyes.”

Her vision blurred. She opened her mouth to thank him, but the taste of copper rushed into her throat and made her choke. Her lungs struggled for air to breathe. Her body felt lighter and lighter, no surface anywhere to grasp and hold. Everything around her went dark.

She was cold.

A warm hand cupped her cheek and swept the hair out of her face. Water sloshed nearby, and a few ragged breaths carried through the air.

“Saki? Saki, can you hear me?” Her father's voice was gruff with panic.

She opened her eyes. Her legs were halfway submerged in pond water. Above them, the stars twinkled through the trees. The mountaintop was empty except for Saki, her father, and the sound of their breaths.

She heard her grandmother's shouts below them, but the voice didn't sound right. Her grandmother never lost her composure, and the shouts that Saki heard were frantic, searching. Perhaps it was someone else.

Her father pulled her up to solid ground. He cupped her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. A question lingered, but he could not open his mouth to say the words. Saki raised her fingers to her face and they came away red with blood. The cut stretched across one side of her forehead and throbbed in time with her pulse.

“Hi, Dad.”

He smoothed the hair on top of her head, and his eyes never left the gash on her face. “You scared the daylights out of me. Don't ever do that again.”

They were quiet once more until her father picked himself up with a grunt. He bent down to gather her in his arms, a feat he had not attempted since she was small. Tight in his embrace, she rested her head on his shoulder and felt the drumming of his heart in his chest.

Her father carried her down the narrow trail to the shrine. The spirits had called it the Path of the Gods, but as the branches brushed Saki's feet, it seemed like any other part of the forest. Or perhaps the road had never been an outside place at all, but somewhere inside. She sighed and let the unanswered question fade into the familiar sounds of the woods.

The fevered heat of her body had gone. Her skin felt cool but not cold. The leaves whispered as the wind passed by. Calm spread throughout the forest, and the same feeling of peace settled in her heart.

They passed the sakaki grove. The rotten tree was just a shell, all of its power over her swept away, and the shrine buildings had gained a new strength. They would be safe on the sleepy grounds now, no curse to hinder them. At the edge of the shrine, standing at the unpainted torii gate, a woman in disheveled clothes hurried to Saki's side.

Grandma must have been pulling at the neck of her yukata, because the lines were all askew. Her hair was fluffed out at odd angles, and the moon turned her face ashen pale. She held a pair of Grandpa's old prayer beads between her fingers and ticked them back and forth the way Saki always used to fiddle with her necklaces.

“Oh, thank the heavens you found her!”

Saki held out her hand as her father took her down the road. She caught the edge of Grandma's yukata for a split second, until the fabric slipped from her fingers.

“Everything's okay. You don't have to worry.”

Grandma hid her face in her hands to hold back her sobs. She lingered by the gate as Saki's father lumbered down the path. Before Grandma followed them, Saki saw her turn back to the shrine. She pressed both hands together and closed her eyes. At the end of the prayer, she gathered up her yukata and stumbled along behind.

“How did you find me?”

“We heard a voice above the shrine. I thought it was a fox at first, but then I found you by the pond. You hit your head pretty bad, kid. What in the world possessed you to—No, never mind. First you see the doctor.”

Saki buried her face in her father's shoulder to hide her smile. A fox, was it?

At the bottom of the path, the house had been overrun with visitors. A police car blazed its lights, and Dr. Maeda stood by his own car with a medical bag. Maeda's bike was tied on top, and Maeda herself peered out from behind the windshield. Saki's mother and brother stood in the doorway, paler than the waning moon.

“You're very lucky,” the doctor told Saki after he checked her pulse and waved a light in front of her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

When she woke around noon, the deluge of people in the house had calmed to a trickle. Grandma's friends from the village, mothers and grandmothers, had all brought up gifts of food and sweets to show their concern. By the time Saki pulled herself out of bed, the dining table was covered in homemade dishes.

Her mother looked over her newspaper as Saki wandered in, following the delicious smell.

“What are you doing out of bed?” She tossed down the paper and tried to push Saki back to her room. “I can bring you something if you're hungry, but you should be getting rest.”

“Mom, I'm fine.” She'd slept longer in the last two days then she had the entire trip, and she was eager to get away from the sweaty futon in the corner room. Aside from the weakness in her muscles and the gash on her face, the fever was gone, and the rest of her body was healthy. “I'm just going to sit and eat. That's not going to give me brain damage.”

Saki's mother must have seen the determined look in her eyes, because she held up her hands in surrender.

“Fine, but I expect you to be fully cooperative when Dr. Maeda comes back up to check on you.”

Saki sat down at the table and started eating pickled cucumber slices off a lacquered tray. They'd kept her up long enough to make sure she didn't have a concussion, but they wouldn't let her out of the house, let alone out to the doctor's car. Maeda was probably in a lot of trouble for helping Saki sneak out, and she had nothing but a busted bike and a swollen ankle to show for it. Saki picked at a bowl of fried tofu and vegetables, eating only the carrots.

“Do you want some rice?” her mother asked, hovering near her shoulder. “I think that Grandma's still in the kitchen washing dishes, but I'll check. Stay here.”

A moment later, Grandma looked in from the kitchen. She held out a rice bowl, but her movements were soft and hesitant. “There wasn't much left in the pot. I'll make another right now.”

She placed the bowl on the table next to Saki without meeting her eyes. Before she hurried away, Saki tugged on the sleeve of her grandmother's yukata.

“Hey, Grandma? Thanks for everything.” She hesitated and dropped her hand. “I'm sorry that I caused you so much trouble. I didn't mean to be a bother.”

Grandma reached down to take Saki's hand, her eyes set and serious. “Never.” Her voice wavered, and her face was strained with emotion. “Don't ever think that you're a bother in this house.”

“So maybe I could come back next year?”

Grandma bowed her head. Only her eyes and the taut corners of her mouth gave away the smile she tried to keep from breaking loose. “You will always have a place here, whenever you wish.”

Saki was still eating when the car rolled up the driveway. Her father led Dr. Maeda into the house as a smaller figure trailed behind wielding a pair of crutches. The doctor nudged his daughter into the room. Her foot was wrapped with bandages, and she had to juggle her crutches before she knelt on the floor and bowed deeply to Saki's parents.

“I apologize from the depths of my heart for putting your daughter in danger. It was my fault that you had to worry. I promise that I will never be so careless again.” Maeda took a deep breath. She remained bowed over until Saki's mother reached over and set a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for your apology, Tomo. We know you didn't mean any harm.”

Saki caught Maeda's glance as the other girl rose. They smiled at one another as if meeting for the first time. After Dr. Maeda spouted out another round of apologies for his daughter's recklessness, Saki's grandmother rose and shuffled toward the kitchen.

“You must be thirsty after coming all the way up in this heat. Let me get you a cup of tea.”

“Oh no, we don't want to be any trouble,” the doctor replied.

Saki's father shook his head and waved the doctor to a seat at the table. “Not at all. Come, have at least one cup.”

He looked down at his daughter. “Tomo, you go wait in the car while I do the examination. We don't want to cause any more of a fuss.”

Maeda silently complied with her father's instructions. On the way out, she turned her head to Saki and mouthed a word that Saki didn't catch. Then she pointed outside before she pulled herself through the doorway with her crutches.

Saki waited until the adults were distracted by their tea, then excused herself to the bathroom. When they had their backs turned, she slipped out the front door behind Maeda.

The other girl sat on the walkway around the front of the house, dangling her feet above the ground with her crutches across her lap. She waved Saki closer, then grabbed Saki's arm and scanned her up and down.

“I'm really, really glad you're not dead. How many stitches did you get?”

“None, thankfully. But with my luck, I'm sure it'll scar,” said Saki with a lopsided smile. “Sorry for roping you into this. Are you in a lot of trouble?”

Maeda sighed. “Every time my mom looks at me, she starts crying. I think she thinks I'm going to join a motorcycle gang after this.”

Saki held a hand to her mouth to keep from bursting out in laughter. The expression on Maeda's face was too serious.

“I'm really, really sorry,” Saki said. “If it helps, I don't think you'd do well in a gang. Especially not with that foot.”

Maeda glanced back at the door, then she leaned her head close to Saki's and whispered, “What really happened up there? What possessed you to run all the way to the top of the mountain?”

“The easiest way to explain it is…” Saki thought hard before answering. “I found something important to me. When I thought that it was in danger, I had to do what I could to protect it. Of course, my parents think it was all the fever making me hallucinate. They're too worried to be mad, so that's the official story.”

Maeda drew back and pursed her lips. “So you really did see spirits? For three whole nights?”

“I didn't just see them. I did all sorts of things.”

Maeda's gaze wandered up to the mountain. Her breath hitched, and she turned back to Saki with an eager gleam in her eyes. “I want to know everything.”

“Are you sure? It might take a long time to tell.”

“I'll give you my email address, and you can tell me about it when you get back to Tokyo.”

Saki bit her cheek. “I have a better idea. Can you tell me your home address instead? I'll write you letters. That way, I can draw pictures. Some of the things I saw were way too weird to explain in an email.”

“Really? You promise?”

Saki held out her pinkie finger. Maeda hooked it with her own.

“Yeah, I promise. And if I can't get it all in the letters, I'll just have to tell you when I come back.”

“And don't forget that you promised you'd take me too. I'm not counting last time because I couldn't walk, but next time—”

Before Saki could respond, the front door swung open, and Dr. Maeda appeared behind them.

“Tomo, I told you to wait in the car. You shouldn't be bothering Saki while she recovers.” He frowned at both of them. “And you, Saki. I still need to do some tests. Running around the house before you're ready will only slow down your recovery.”

Without argument, Maeda pulled herself up and hobbled back to her father's car with her crutches. She waved as Dr. Maeda herded Saki inside, in spite of Saki's insistence that she felt perfectly fine.

Inside, the doctor recorded all kinds of information: her heart rate, blood pressure, and the sound her lungs made as she inhaled. When the poking and prodding was finished, Dr. Maeda scribbled a few lines on a note and handed the note to Saki's father.

“She's remarkably well. As long as she keeps to only light activities, I see no reason why she wouldn't be fit for traveling.”

“Thank you, doctor. How much do we owe you?”

The doctor patted sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. “Please don't even consider it. It's the least I can do.”

They were set to leave the next morning. Everyone packed for the trip, except Saki, who could only watch as her mother, father, brother, and even Grandma hurried back and forth from the house to their car. In all of the sorting, Saki still hadn't found her pouch of marbles. She cornered her mother in between suitcase runs, keeping her voice low in case Jun was lurking nearby.

“Mom, have you found any of my things around the house? I'm missing something important.”

“I'm so sorry, Saki. Jun and I went up this morning to look for your phone, but we couldn't find anything except some old junk,” her mother said. “We'll get you a new one before school starts again.”

“Wait, what kind of junk?” Saki asked, the marbles forgotten. She'd lost the second of the old straw sandals in the pond, but she was grateful that they'd been able to carry her so far.

Her mother shrugged. “Just an old umbrella and a rag.”

Saki clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back her cry of excitement.

“What's the matter?” Her mother scanned her face in alarm.

“You didn't just leave them there, did you?”

“Of course not. We put them in an old storage shed. Someone really should go up there and clean. Not to mention clear the path up to that pond. Even in the middle of the day, I couldn't see through all the weeds.”

Saki relaxed. At least now she knew. They'd find their way back to the village of the object spirits somehow, she was sure of it. “You shouldn't just throw them away. They were probably put up there for a reason.”

“Well, we won't have to worry about it, at any rate. We won't be back until the year after next.” Saki's mother put a hand on her shoulder. “But I would understand if you don't want to come back. You've had a tough couple of days. Maybe we can find a way for you to stay with a friend next time.”

“No!” Saki jumped. “Um, I mean, I don't mind coming. I think Grandma's a lot happier when we all come together.”

Her mother smiled. “You know, I think you're right. She really loves to see you kids. I know it was boring, but I think she really appreciated spending time with you.”

“Well,” said Saki. “It wasn't always boring.”

Her mother raised her eyebrows, but Saki left the remark at that.

• • •

The car wound down the mountain. Sunlight streamed through the windows from the west. Though she'd slept so much the past few days, the warmth and the rhythm of the car lulled Saki into a sleepy daze.

She leaned her head against the window as the car breezed past a long line of trees. For the first time since she could remember, she felt a quiet part of her reach back for the mountain. She still missed her room in Tokyo and the smell of her own pillow, but she was also starting to miss the shuffling of leaves beneath her feet and the way the trees made their own secret paths through the forest.

Her brother looked up from his video game to frown at her.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked. “You're in a lot of trouble, you know.”

Saki grinned and poked him on the cheek. “Maybe I'm smiling because your face looks funny.”

He gave her an odd look and stuck out his tongue before he returned to his game. Her mother and father were both silent in the front seat. Saki enjoyed the moment for as long as she could, because she knew that when her family got back to Tokyo, none of them would have time for pauses like this.

The car was almost at the base of the mountain. The forest thinned and gave way to rice fields and the village houses. Saki turned to catch one last glimpse of the trees through the rear window.

At the edge of the forest, a small animal sat by a road sign. The tanuki reached up to scratch his ear with a hind leg. A dark bird landed on the sign and pointed his beak toward the car. Tall grasses by the side of the road stirred. A pair of pointy ears appeared, but Saki couldn't tell what kind of creature they belonged to.

The car drove farther down the road. The shapes of the animals grew smaller and smaller. Saki pressed her nose against the glass of the window, hoping to keep the image in her sight for just a few more seconds.

Before the car turned down another street, a fox's tail slipped between a line of trees.