The Tower of Tattle

"Playing scholar for today, huh?" Al strokes his beard as he approaches. "You two have always struck me as smarter than other kids your age, that's true."

"Even me?" Shiori beams. "How come you're already awake, Al?"

"Especially you Shiori," he says with a kind, old man smile. "And how could I not be? What, with all the arguing?"

"O-oh. Sorry about that-" I start."

"No, no, I'm not talking about you two," he grumbles. "You'll see when you come down to eat.

And sure enough, the moment we get downstairs, Nick and Hannah are going at it. Though, really, it seems to be a mostly one-sided affair with Hannah fruitlessly flailing her hands against Nick's shoulder.

"I hate you, Nick! I'd hate you even more if I didn't love you!" Hannah wails.

"Hannah, I can't believe you are seriously talking about children when we're not even dating."

"How? How can you say we're not dating when you've told me you loved me?!" Hannah screams.

"I- I shouldn't have said tha-"

"Don't say another word, you brute! Don't take it back! I don't wanna hear it!" Hannah theatrically walks up to Nick just to slap him, before starting to dash out. But the door's so heavy, she struggles against it, and after a few seconds Nick sighs, walks over, and pushes it open the rest of the way for her.

Then she gives him another light slap and runs off weepily.

"Woah..." Shiori says.

"Nick, did you really say you loved her?" I eye him warily.

So this is what people mean when they say someone's got a deer in the headlights look. He's just totally frozen. Seems like he's trying to figure out what to say, but all he can manage is to lamely point at some sandwiches all nicely wrapped on the table.

Al just glares daggers into him. "What are you doing, you imbecile?! Chase after her for god's sake!"

"Right! You're right!" To his credit, that verbal slap on the back's all it takes, and Nick's out the door immediately. "Hannah! Hannah, come on!"

In the wake of that whirlwind melodrama, there's not much left except silence and some tasty sandwiches. Al's got his hand to his temple with his eyes closed, as if he's got a pounding headache."That dumb bastard," Al growls. "Let's start heading to that magic show of yours, Miss Shiori. I need to stroll this vexation away."

Still, vexed as he is, he still makes sure to pack the sandwiches Nick made.

---

Leave it to kids to be nonplussed by adult drama. As we walk through the woods with Al, Shiori and I are engaged in a serious debate.

"I always thought they were dating," Shiori says, mouth full of sandwich.

"Huh? No way." It feels good to be a kid and just talk with my mouth full. Though, I don't think my mom would've let it fly. "You heard him. They're notdating. He said it over and over."

"Yeah, but that's just what people who are dating say sometimes!" Shiori retorts.

"No, it's really not."

"But they love each other!"

"Huh? Is that really the impression you got?"

"Yeah! Otherwise Nick would be some kind of... philanthropizing cod!"

"...you mean, philandering cad?"

Al, strolling ahead, seems a lot more put out by the whole thing. Honestly, I'm not sure why. If he hates Nick as much as he seems to, then it should be a good thing that Hannah seems to be reaching her limit with his wishy washiness.

"Al, why do you hate Nick so much?" Shiori strolls up to Al and asks the quiet thing out loud.

"Hmm," Al scratches his head, while slowing down to walk right next to her. He leans his stocky body over as if to literally lend her his ear. "Why, indeed?"

"Do you actually hate him?" Shiori asks. I feel my own ears perk up in curiosity.

"Catch me on a bad day," he grumbles, mostly to himself. "And I'd tell you I'd love nothing more for him to slip on pig dung and crack his head open. But I ought to be level-headed around you children. When I'm being fair, I'm as aware as anyone else I'm barkin' up the wrong tree with all this anger."

Al sighs and rubs the back of his neck, before continuing on. "It just pains me to see a girl I love like a daughter to be so hopelessly infatuated and then be thrown about by the tides of love."

Now I hop up to them to walk along. "Is Nick leading her on?"

Al winces, seeming to think that's a bit too adult of a concept to come out of a child's mouth. "No, he's... he's got his reasons. Hannah's got some demons to conquer, you see. And it scares us all to think sometimes she... well, that she might not win. Sometimes it's easier to be angry than it is to be scared, Miss Mu, Miss Shiori. I hope when you're older the two of you'll know that doesn't make it right."

Not much kids can say to that. We all just walk in silence for a while, each with our own objects to fidget with. Shiori's got Yorick. I've got the sandwiches in a basket. And Al's actually brought along a flashlight for when we walk back later, so he's making sure it works.

Honestly, walking back through the woods at night with kids isn't exactly safe in the first place, but I'm remembering Al wasn't ever someone you'd call 'prudent' when it came to childcare. With Monika being the way she is, Al was always the closest thing Shiori had to a real guardian. And when it came to the 'guard' part, he really wasn't much of one, because he seemed to think children are as invincible as they're energetic.

I remember one time that Shiori convinced me that we should try to sail down one of the Rumeuri Hill creeks in a pool float, and Al just stroked his beard and said it was a 'mighty fine adventure for tiny sailors.' We ended up getting thrown into some bushes when the float popped against some banks. My mom was really furious, and I couldn't play with Shiori for a week. It might've been even longer if Al hadn't come to my house and apologized over and over.

"Al, when'd I ask you to take me to the magic show again? I don't remember." Shiori peers up at him from the side. How much of it is Shiori the mage trying to piece a chain of events together, and how much of it is just kid Shiori being an airhead I'm not sure.

"You don't remember? You wrote me such a nice note too, Miss Shiori. I'd say you've got a future as a writer, you know? Hell, I've even got it in my glasses case this very moment!" Al wags his index finger in the air for Shiori like an old cartoon character, getting a nice giggle out of her. Then he pulls out a small glasses case from his pocket, and opens it up to pull out a small handwritten note.

Dear Mr. Krabb. Do you want to see the magic show with me? My aunt Monika does not want to see the magic show with me. I thought that since you liked old sailor stories, you must love wonder and the unknown. There are lots of fun mysteries in the world and I think you would like this one. I know you can't sail anymore, but a display of magecraft is an adventure of its own! Please let me know. Love, Shiori. P.S. Please hide your response note where Monika can't find it. There's a really big red rock right by the bakery!

I feel mean for thinking this, but Shiori was a surprisingly articulate writer even as a child. From her ditziness and often happy-go-lucky attitude you'd really never guess. I definitely didn't know as a kid.

"Can't say I was too interested in passin' notes like my grammar school days," Al says scratching his head. "So, I thought I'd just go and pick you up on the day of. That's when I ran into your fussy mess of an aunt."

"Why'd you bring your reading glasses, anyway?" Shiori asks.

" I just figured I'd solve some crossword puzzles or somethin' while we're waiting for the show to begin."

"You like crossword puzzles?" Shiori asks.

"That's right," he chuckles. "I bet you thought us sailors were dumb, huh?"

"Never!"

"Well, you're wise not to underestimate me Miss Shiori," Al grins. "I've been all over the world."

"When?"

"Hell if I remember. All that's just a figment of the past nowadays. At this point, only thing I know's that Sussurokawa's got just about the worst sand I've ever set foot on."

"Aw, but I like the sand here..." Shiori frowns. I feel a little offended too. I also like the sand here. But she keeps pestering him: "Where's the best sand in the world, then?"

"The Florida panhandle! But that doesn't mean you should ever go to Florida!"

"Never! I won't!"

"Good girl," Al smiles, his good mood coming back fast.

While Shiori and Al happily chat away, I notice the note he folded and tucked back into his glasses case is peeking out again. Like a bird whose cage was left open, the snitch clearly needed a moment to realize freedom is a real prospect. The open gate isn't some trick.

This one's got the look of a fat little sparrow. I mean, it's paper, but it's got a whole big round fold in the front that almost looks fluffed up. I surreptitiously walk by with The Codex, and it jumps right on in like it's a bird bath.

I have such incredibly mixed feelings about a nine or ten year old Shiori calling me a poser. I actually feel really flustered about it. It's like... when you think you're the perceptive one but you're not even perceptive enough to notice someone you know is actually really perceptive. And when you finally notice it makes you question how much you've really been paying attention.

...That intense flareup of embarrassment isn't the problem though. This Codex entry is activating my sixth sense for trouble. The word cult? Trouble. Kurakira? I don't even remember what that's supposed to be. But the second I see it every alarm in my brain goes off. I just know something bad is about to happen.

And their current conversation isn't making me feel any better about it.

"But Al," Shiori says. "It's gonna be real magic. It's not a magic show!"

"I sure hope it isn't," I mutter. The closer we get to this 'ritual' the more of a bad feeling I get, now that I think about it. "Shiori, why do you care about the show so much?"

Shiori looks offended for a second, but then confused. As if she can't quite remember what she's supposed to be thinking and feeling. She whispers back to me: "I don't know... I just feel really drawn to it."

"Do you remember how it went?"

Shiori just stares at me blankly for a second. Then she squeezes her eyes real hard to try and remember, then tilts her head quizzically. "No... I don't."

I start feeling my chest tighten up real bad. Al, for his part, seems to notice. Though I guess from his perspective, it's just kids getting nervous about something that's new to them. So, he turns our attention to the town coming into view, as we turn a sharp corner.

There it is. Sussurokawa proper. "The real town," as opposed to the small slice of rich founder families on Rumeuri.

"Now Shiori, "It's just that all my years of wisdom have taught me how to live a good life with what's right in front of me. You see?"

Pastel buildings of wood and stone, and cobblestone streets lay before us. I can't help but notice we're not too far from the cliff where Shiori and I were looking at the lighthouse. But this vantage point is more modest. Lower to the ground. Not even quite looking down at the town, so much as seeing eye to eye with the tops of the shortest buildings.

I know they're not as close as they seem, but it almost feels like we could go hopping across the rooftops if we wanted.

"You know, when I was a younger man," Al says, stretching his arm out, "I used to spend all my time looking out at the misty waters. I wanted to know what was beyond the fog and horizon. "

"But what's that got to do with magic?"

"Hmm," Al strokes his beard as we start stepping into town finally. "I suppose all I mean to say is don't mind all the smoke and mirrors and you'll be just fine. Keep your feet on the ground."

He stamps his foot a few times demonstratively, before continuing. "All the magic and soothsaying in the world won't do you any good if you don't say grounded. Miss Shiori, Miss Mu, you ever hear about the sailor who could see the future?"

"Er, no?" I reply. "Could you not call me Miss M-

"Miss Moo!" Shiori chirps happily. Great.

"So, you've got this sailor fella who can see his own future. Great power for a sailor, isn't it? No matter what waves came his way, he could best them and stand tall. When they come, he sees the path through. Before they ever come, he already sees himself in their wake, completely unharmed. What do you think he sees?

"Treasure!" Shiori blurts out.

"Well hell, knowledge is a kind of treasure. He looks to the future, and he sees himself alive and well in calm waters. Nothing to harm him! And in brashness and boldness, he thinks he's invincible. What do you think happens next?"

"Umm, the wave gets him anyway?" I suggest, kind of lamely.

"Well, he survives the storm just fine! Just like he imagined! But little did he know, that very storm had caused the currents to reverse! His boat stayed still in stagnant waters, and his nets caught no fish. He certainly was injured by no storm. Instead, he starved!" Al laughed. "Just goes to show sometimes you need a little more than magic to get through tough times."

"Oh..." Shiori looks a little saddened, which Al picks up on.

"Now, how about I tell you all about how I escaped from Guantanamo Bay?"

Shiori nods excitedly, while I try not to look too doubtful. Did he? No. No way. I feel like he's making fun of us right now, and I try my best to disentangle my adult brain so I can ask myself if that makes any sense at all. It doesn't, right? That's too silly.

But, um... I suppose it couldn't hurt to hear him out.

---

Sussurokawa Cove is a town that looks like it's been split in two. A stream of water runs right through the center, flowing off the hill, aided in its path to sea by the stony grand cascade. The bridge connects the two sides, but it's the town hall that seems to try and 'pull' the town together.

It's sort of scary looking, to be honest. The hall itself isn't anything special. Just bricks and wood, like any other building in town. But the grand cascade flows under it; which is to say the town hall is built over the cascade. I'm sure it's architecturally sound, but it sure looks precarious. And when I look at it from far away, I can't help but see the culvert where the water flows through as a smirking, open mouth, ready to eat up anything dumb enough to get near.

What I really can't help but notice is how diverse all the residents of Sussurokawa look. There's every skin tone, sure. But there are people as short as four feet, and as tall as seven; there are people with eyes so sharp they look like a hawk's, and people with ears so big they look like drawn caricatures. Everywhere I look are residents with remarkable physical traits. If there's anything that's kinda samey is that a lot of the residents seem a bit on the older side. But then again, Sussurokawa seems like the type of place older folk would flee to when they get tired of the world.

Here's someone with arms that look like steel girders. He seriously looks like he could lift a house. But he's wearing a baker's hat, and he gives me and Shiori a gentle wave.

"He makes really good empanadas, you know," Shiori says.

"I don't like empanadas because I hate raisins," I say.

"That's not good, Mu! You'll never grow tall like that."

It's a nice thought, thinking that maybe I could redo my whole growth process, set myself up on a path to be a good three or four inches taller than I was. As I'm idly thinking of lording over Shiori and maybe dunking a basketball on her, we get to the town hall where the ritual's supposed to be. And when I catch sight of a familiar set of statues, and a familiar tablet, I get the shudders.

There by the entrance of the town hall, is a statue of a man genuflecting in front of a woman. She's got his face in her hands, in a gesture somewhere between affection and clemency, and her own expression is one of soft benevolence. But when I look at the two statues, I feel nausea rising up from somewhere deep in me.

The tablet's even worse. The feeling goes beyond just an omen, because omens are warnings. They might be of supernatural origins, but at the end of the day, someone or something out there is saying "Hey! Watch out!"

But reading the tablet gives me a different feeling altogether.

I can't put my finger on why, but when I read it, it feels like someone out there is mocking me. That's the worst part. A benign face hiding bad intentions and real malice. Austere words covering something wriggling and gross. It's like somewhere in this town, there's someone who finds it a riot to throw worms in the spaghetti and watch everyone take a bite. And it feels like they're watching me right now.