The sky was still a vivid blue, the early morning sun shining brightly through it. White clouds stood out against the blue, each dotted with tinges of gray that drifted across their surfaces like oil over water. I directed the Kettle out from among the villas and up the gentle slope, bringing an old-looking deep-blue roof into sight.
“There’s the house,” I commented.
As we got closer to Monty’s house, a trike came toward us, heading in the other direction. Its rider was, of course, Charolles. She looked so cool riding stretched out over it that both of us in the car let out murmurs of wonder.
I’d offered to let her come along with us, but Charolles had refused. Realizing she must have come to see Monty on her own, I had a sudden thought and pulled over to the side. She slowed her own vehicle and then came to a stop at our side. I wound the window down and spoke.
“We’re heading up there now. I guess you’re going back?”
“I am. I’m done here already,” she answered.
Her goggles were hiding half of her face, so I couldn’t see her expression very well. From what I could see, she looked the same as normal, but something felt different.
“Did something happen?” I asked.
“You’re worried about me? That’s kind of you.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
Charolles took her hands off the handlebars and looked straight at me. The glass in one of her goggles reflected my face, while I could see through the other to her eye. I couldn’t read the emotions that were in that eye, though.
“I’m fine, thanks. I’ll head on back ahead of you.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, just grabbed hold of the handlebars again and took off. Moments later, she disappeared into the shadows of the forest along with the gentle burbling of her exhaust.
“I wonder what’s wrong with her?” Nito mused.
“So she did seem weird.”
If Nito thought so too, then it wasn’t just me misreading things. The business Charolles was “done” with probably had something to do with it, and it was probably related to Monty in some way. Unease fluttered in my chest like flames licking at the bottom of a simmering pot as I drove the Kettle onward.
I stopped in front of Monty’s house and got out, with Nito close behind. We stood together in front of the door as I knocked. No reply was forthcoming. Even after I gave a slightly louder knock, there was a pause before the door opened.
“So it’s you this time. It’s just one guest after another. I wonder how many years it’s been since I had this many.”
Nito let out a small gasp as she looked up at him. His gaze fell and met Nito’s, and... I think he might have laughed?
“Oh, your guardian’s with you.”
“How old do you think I am?” I asked.
I hadn’t expected a joke from him.
“Come on in. I was just brewing some tea. I’ll listen to what you have to say over a cup.”
We followed his beckoning and, once inside, Nito slowly took in the living room. She seemed to be focused on the quality of the furniture. That was where my attention went too, even with this being my second time inside the room. The sunlight coming in from the window lit the room brightly, and it felt completely different than it had in the warm orange light from the night before. While we were busy staring, Monty came into the room carrying a tray with a teapot and cups on it.
“What are you two standing around for? I suppose I’ll have to tell you, the seats are over there,” he said, gesturing with his pointed nose.
“Sorry for the sudden visit,” I apologized.
“I don’t mind. I welcome anything but bad news.”
Monty brewed the tea with familiar motions and then put a cup in front of me. There was no bottle of spirits like there had been yesterday, just a small bowl of sugar cubes and a small container of orange jam.
“Thank you,” I said.
I’d enjoyed his hospitality the night before as well, so I was less reserved than Nito. I dropped a sugar cube into my cup, then stirred in a spoonful of the jam as well. After that, Nito also added a sugar cube to hers, and we spent some time enjoying our tea.
“So, did you two simply have too much time on your hands and come to chat with an old man?”
Even as I smiled ruefully at the indirect request to get to the point of our visit, I put my cup down.
“I have two things I wanted to ask of you.”
“That’s better than one. Now, even if I refuse one, it invites less blame.”
“We’ve actually decided to hold the Lantern Flower Festival and wanted to know if you’d join in.”
“What was the other thing?” he asked.
“Charolles—the girl that was just here—seemed slightly off, so I was hoping you could give some insight into why, if you didn’t mind.”
Monty hummed as he sipped his tea.
“I don’t do well with lively events. So, while it has been very long since the last one, I will not be participating in the festival. I do thank you for taking the time and effort to invite me, however. As for the girl, that is not something for me to discuss at my own discretion. It concerns her personal circumstances, so ask her instead.”
It was a blunt answer, but he’d stated both his reply and his reasons clearly, so it ended up feeling more uplifting than vexing. I could only nod in agreement with what he’d said about Charolles, and I could at least relax knowing that there wasn’t a specific problem between the two of them.
“So, purely out of curiosity,” he continued, “why are you holding it now?”
“There’s no deep meaning behind it,” I said, smiling self-consciously again. “If I had to name a reason, I’d say it’s because of Nito’s curiosity.”
I gestured toward her and she straightened in her seat, nodding nervously. She was acting like a student called to the principal’s office.
“Well then, it has to be done,” Monty said decisively. “My apologies for not taking part, little miss.”
“I-It’s fine... Actually, can I ask you something?” she said, pausing until he nodded. “You know Fago, right?”
“She’s probably the person I’ve known the longest, in fact. How is she?”
“Um, she’s well. She cleans the temple every morning and prays.”
“I see,” he answered shortly.
Despite the brevity of the response, there was quite a bit of meaning packed into it, and it left an odd echo in my mind. Seeming to notice my curious look, Monty leaned back into his seat. He crossed his hands over his stomach and turned his face toward the window.
“Have either of you ever prayed?” he asked.
Nito and I gave each other a look, and she was the one that answered.
“What kind of prayers?”
“There are many kinds. Prayers are given as thanks before a meal or after a good harvest, as pleas for something the person wants, as respect to the dead... There are countless types of prayers, but those that pray the longest and hardest are always those repenting.”
“Because they did something wrong?”
Monty’s beady eyes found Nito’s.
“That’s right, little miss. People that pray aren’t the only ones that do bad, though. Everyone sins in one way or another. The difference is in realizing your own sin and facing it. You see, prayers are nothing more than introspection. You sit before an invisible presence, speak with an inaudible voice, and thereby spend your days looking inward. That brings more pain than any judgment from another could.”
“So Fago prays in repentance?” I asked.
Monty simply shook his head.
“These are nothing more than my own musings, not a certainty. However, think hypothetically. If her mornings are dedicated to repentance, and yet there is no one to hear that prayer...would such a life not be pointless?”
His gaze as he turned to me felt expectant, like he wanted some kind of response. I wasn’t sure how to answer, though. I’d never prayed, for repentance or otherwise. I also didn’t know much about Fago.
“I don’t think praying is a waste, though,” Nito answered.
“Even if no one is there to hear the prayers?”
“You never know when a prayer or wish might be granted.”
“That’s a rather optimistic viewpoint.”
“Mine was granted. So prayers...even if they seem like impossible wishes, are a good thing, I think.”
It was an emotional argument rather than a logical one, and yet Monty didn’t refute it. That was probably because it contained so much of her personal feelings. It was an opinion born of her own experiences, so it didn’t need to be logical. Monty just snorted in amusement, nodding slightly.
“Go tell that to her,” he said, his tone shockingly soft; it felt almost too affectionate for mere acquaintances.
“What kind of relationship do the two of you have?” I asked.
“We have simply known each other for a long time,” he said, neatly deflecting the question.
There was a mysterious sense of tension between the other two as we finished our tea. After we left the house, Nito and I gave each other a troubled glance and a vague smile as we stood together in front of the Kettle.
“Everyone turned us down,” I commented eventually.
“They did...”
I’d thought that even if Monty wouldn’t turn up, Paula and Jill would.
“Guess it’s just the four of us.”
“That makes me a bit sad...”
I agreed. I’d thought the Lantern Flower Festival would be a great opportunity to add a little color to a mostly boring existence. She was right, though—a festival with only four people felt almost pitifully small.
“Fago, Paula, Jill, and Monty... They all live so close together, but they don’t seem to have anything to do with each other,” Nito commented, her shoulders slumping.
I wasn’t sure how to console her. They lived in such close proximity and yet held each other at arm’s length. It must have felt wrong to Nito, and I was reluctant to just wave it off as being how adults were sometimes.
Just then, something occurred to me and I hurried back to the door. I knocked again and Monty soon appeared to open it.
“Did you want another cup of tea?” he asked.
“Ah, no, but thank you for the offer. I realized I forgot to ask something,” I told him, before voicing my question. “Do you remember a Paula? Apparently, you used to yell at her for messing with you in some way.”
His reaction was beyond anything I’d expected.