Page 43 of Water Moon
Chapter Forty-three
Stall Five Hundred and Ten
Baskets, glass jars, and wooden crates were displayed on tiered shelves in front of market stall five hundred and ten, each containing a different item for sale. Ballpoint pens, sorted by color, bloomed from jars like plastic bouquets. The biggest collection was the color blue. Next to the pens, a row of smaller jars held an assortment of the knickknacks that one would find collecting lint in the bowels of a purse. Tubes of lipstick. Receipts. Loose change. Baskets overflowing with mountains of eyeglasses and keys were arranged beneath them. Crates occupied the last shelf closest to the clouds, each filled with an impressive collection of mismatched socks.
“I hate to admit it,” Keishin said, “but except for the lipstick, this stall kind of reminds me of my old college dorm room during finals week. The only difference was that my junk wasn’t arranged in baskets. It was an obstacle course over my floor.”
“I am not surprised,” Hana said. “Everything this stall sells is from your world. The door shared by the pawnshop and the ramen restaurant is not the only way into your world. Sometimes, cracks appear. The things that are lost or forgotten in your world’s dusty corners fall through them.” She picked up a gold-colored credit card from a short stack. “I used to collect these. Your world has such pretty bookmarks.”
“Er, yes. Very pretty.” Keishin bit down a laugh. “Forget finding neutrinos. Life’s greatest mystery is finally solved. I always wondered where the socks that vanished from my washing machine went.” Keishin plucked a coin from a jar and rolled it across his knuckles.
A man bundled in a multicolored patchwork coat appeared from behind the stall. Keishin spotted the bottom half of a gray-and-red-striped necktie stitched to a sleeve from a theme park’s souvenir T-shirt near the coat’s waist. The vendor greeted them with a deep bow and a smile that was as cheerful as his coat. He glanced at the coin in Keishin’s hand. “Are you interested in that item? It’s called a coin. The people in the other world use it to pay for things. And coins that have holes in themlike the one you are holding are supposed to bring good luck.”
“How…uh…interesting.” Keishin returned the coin to the jar.
“I just received a new delivery of wallets,” the vendor said. “I have not had a chance to display them yet, but I can fetch them for you if you would like to take a look.”
“Thank you, but we are not here to purchase anything. Nakajima-san told us that you could provide us with answers to some questions we have,” Keishin said.
“Nakajima Natsuki? The porter?”
“Yes,” Keishin said.
“If Natsuki sent you my way, then I assume that your questions are not the sort that would be wise to say out loud.” The vendor fetched a notebook from the back of the stall and plucked a blue pen from one of the store’s jars. “Here,” he said, handing them to Keishin. “Write your question down and I will see what I can do.”
Keishin closed his hand around the pen, struck by how its weight and shape felt familiar and odd at the same time. He could not recall a day that he had not grabbed a pen to scribble down a reminder or an idea as he darted off to a class or worked at the university’s lab. He kept two pens in a chipped mug on his nightstand for the all too frequent nights when one of the resident questions in his head decided that it couldn’t wait until morning to chatter away in his ear. But Keishin had not held a pen since he had arrived in Hana’s world, and tonight it felt more like an exotic artifact than a commonplace tool. He opened the vendor’s notebook and wrote a question down on a blank page. He steered the pen over the paper, mindful of every stroke. Control was a luxury in a world where he had done nothing but chase one strange question after another while running for his life. He savored every second of it.
The vendor ran his eyes over the notebook. He ripped the page out and burned it in the flame of one of the lanterns in his stall. He blew out the lantern and scattered the page’s ashes over the cloud.
“I will need to have words with Natsuki for sending you here,” the vendor said after making sure that every bit of ash had been swallowed by the cloud. “I am not inclined to give her any business for a while.”
“Will you help us?” Hana said. “My father…”
The vendor held up his hand. “I do not want to know your reasons. The less I know, the better. I will help you only because I know that Natsuki has already made you pay a hefty price for an answer she could not give.” The vendor pulled out a stool and sat down. He hunched over the notebook and wrote so feverishly that Keishin worried he was going to rip the paper. The vendor tore out two pages, folded them in half, and gave them to Hana. “This is everything I know.”
“We owe you a great debt,” Hana said.
“You can pay it by leaving the Night Market and never coming back. I do not even wish to know your names. But you may have mine. It is Nakano Yasuhiro. Tell my mother that I sent you.” The vendor reached into a jar and tossed a coin to Keishin. “And take this for luck. You will need it.”