The Night Parade Read Online Free Page A

phone again?”
    Saki opened her mouth to protest, but he saw the rebellion stirring in her eyes and cut her off.
    â€œHang up the daydreams for now and bring some water for scrubbing.”
    With a sigh that would have made Cinderella roll her eyes, Saki trudged toward the tap on the far side of the graveyard. Wooden buckets and ladles for purifying the graves were stacked in the far corner near the old temple compound. Before he died, Saki’s grandfather had been the priest in charge here too. He had woken up at dawn every morning and come to the temple, cleaned the grounds, and maintained the buildings. Judging by the peeling shoji paper in the temple’s doors and windows, his replacement wasn’t up to the task.
    Saki picked out the cleanest ladle and tried to fill a bucket from a hand pump near the wall. The water sloshed against the wood with every press and splashed all over her legs. It was cold and crisp, pulled from some underground mountain spring that filtered through the ground, and it was soaking all the way down into her socks. Just her luck.
    â€œDo you need help?” The smiling girl from earlier stood behind Saki with her own empty bucket. Her hair was black and smooth, and her face was very pretty. When she spoke, every word was polished and polite. “The water pushes the bucket around sometimes. I could show you how to do it, if you like.”
    The girl seemed too perfect to be real. She stood dry and serene as she watched Saki struggle with the water pump, waiting for a reply. It was mortifying. Saki’s cheeks burned with annoyance at being hovered over like some helpless tourist who couldn’t do anything on her own.
    â€œI’m fine,” Saki said with a grunt. Another pump of water made it only halfway into the bucket. The rest of the water pooled on the ground. At least she’d kept it off herself this time.
    â€œAre you sure?” The girl smoothed the skirt of her plain gray dress and leaned in.
    â€œI said I’m fine,” Saki told her. “Besides, you don’t even know me.”
    â€œOur families do. My dad was friends with your dad back when they were kids. I’m Maeda Tomo,” the girl said. She bent her head into a little bow.
    â€œYamamoto Saki. Sorry, I’m kind of busy…” Saki turned her head for a split second, then looked up at the girl once more. She didn’t like being stared at like an animal in a zoo exhibit. “Just because I’m not from around here doesn’t mean I’m helpless, you know.”
    The girl turned away as Saki finished filling up her bucket, her cheeks bright red. Saki bit her tongue. The words sounded sharper out loud, but at least she’d gotten her point across. Until the last pump, they both remained silent.
    Saki held the brimming bucket with both hands and hoisted it up. She shuffled sideways like a crab, and the water spilled over the sides, soaking her shoes and socks again. She was halfway back before she realized that the ladle had gone missing, and she had to set the water down to retrace her steps from the pump.
    The village girl held the missing ladle out to Saki without a word. She had abandoned her own half-filled bucket under the water pump.
    â€œThanks,” Saki muttered. She snatched the ladle back and retreated before Maeda could see her flush in embarrassment.
    The family gravestone was swept clean by the time Saki arrived with the water. Half of the bucket had sloshed over the sides on the way from the pump, but Grandma insisted that there was enough to wash the stones. She took the ladle from Saki, who was more than happy to give it up. Without a splash or a splatter, the rivulets of water trickled down the polished rock.
    â€¢ • •
    The sun dipped below the trees, but evening was just as sticky and hot as the daytime. After a light dinner, Saki was the last one to the car. She sat between Grandma and Jun, wedged into the backseat like