Within a month, Tabby got used to life in Parkhill. He visited not only Ivy’s home but also his grandparents’ house, which was near his, several times. Ivy’s grandmother lectured Tabby about his manners when she first met him and on other occasions. However much she nagged at him, he did not intend to avoid her.

  ‘Are you doing well in the factory, Tabby?’

  ‘Yes, I’m doing fine.’

  ‘Be careful, dear. You wouldn’t want to be too…’

  ‘“You can’t be too careful when you deal with chemicals.” I know that, Mrs. Piccard. I’ll keep it in mind.’

  Taking her usual phrase from her, he grinned.

  ‘It’s a shame we aren’t going to have a harvest festival this year,’ Alma said regretfully at Tsesus’s garage one afternoon. Alma, who had been upset by Tabby’s attitude when they first met, had opened up as she got to know him better.

  ‘Have you ever been to a harvest festival?’

  ‘I’ve been to a festival in Perm a few times, but it was a really small one. The townspeople made some typical dishes, held a family reunion, and that was it.’

  ‘That makes me wish even more that you could see our festival. It has a musical band, a play, dancing, and many food stalls. It’s really fun.’

  ‘The musical band only comes for the festivals. I look forward to hearing the guitar every year.’

  ‘The guitar? I play the guitar too.’

  At Tabby’s passing remark, Alma leaned over to look at him.

  ‘He gave me his guitar, and I brought it here with me. But not anymore.’

  ‘What do you mean, not anymore? Did you lose it?’

  ‘Kind of. On the day I came here, we went to the phone office of Wilder, and I left the guitar there.’

  ‘You should go get it.’

  Alma frowned.

  ‘I did. But the old man didn’t give it back to me; he said he couldn’t give it to me without evidence that proves it was mine.’

  ‘That guitar? Is it yours?’

  Ivy remembered the glossy guitar displayed at the window.

  ‘Mr. Wilson! Such a mean old man!’

  Showing anger in her eyes, she stamped her feet. Tabby looked at her with a resigned expression.

  ‘It’s okay, I won’t play it anyway.’

  ‘What do you mean you won’t? Isn’t it important to you because Mr. Lansberge gave it to you?’

  With his chin still buried in his arms, Tabby swung his legs.

  ‘It was. But I don’t care.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Tabby looked away from Tesus’s eyes and gave a shrug instead.

  “Don’t you get mad when something you care about is taken away by such a mean old man?” Alma said in a chagrined voice. Tabby waved his hand in the air somewhat irritably.

  “It’s fine. I’d give it to him if he wants.”

  Alma fell silent in a huff at his firm tone. Ivy didn’t know how much a guitar cost, but he guessed it would not be cheap, considering how rare it was. Besides, it must have been full of memories of his hometown. However expensive it was, as long as it wasn’t worthwhile to Tabby, the owner, it was better for other people to keep quiet, Ivy thought, and said nothing more.

  The next day after school, he went to the shopping street near the station. At the terrace of a coffee shop across the street, a few people were relaxing or chatting over tea, while the telephone office was quiet, with few users coming in or out of the door as usual. On the windowsill, the guitar with a beautiful curved line was still there. How would it feel if he could play music as fluently as he wanted? It would be amazing, he imagined. He stood a little distance away from the office building. The office manager was sitting at the counter; it was no doubt that he was watching outside from there. If he caught sight of Ivy lingering around the office, he would surely brush Ivy off. Doesn’t Tabby really care about this? The guitar must be expensive, and more than that, it must be a reminder of the priest and the shrine. Perhaps, he thought, Tabby doesn’t want to remember the place he would never be able to go back to. He was about to turn around when he caught sight of the ball next to the guitar. It was the one his brother had bought Ivy when he had just started working at a factory in town. He had taken Ivy to Ylla and bought it for him with his first salary. They often played catch in the backyard or by the riverside. Since Ivy was never good at sports, he missed catching the ball many times, but his brother always smiled and kept playing patiently until Ivy learned to do better. One day, however, Ivy was walking on the shopping street while tossing the ball in the air, but he let it drop, as was usual for him. The ball rolled over and went into the door of the phone office, which happened to be open.

  As a matter of course, the ball was never returned to him and was left on the window sill, faded in color. He remembered crying a lot at that time. “He’s difficult. I’ll buy you a new one. Just give up on it,” his father had said to console him. He reluctantly gave up, though he didn’t want a new one because he wanted the exact ball his brother had given him. The following week, his grandfather bought him a new ball. He treasured the new one, but he never played with it again because his brother had left town.

  Clenching his fist, he started to run. Heading straight along the railway, he ran up to the bridge. He saw some Parkhill boys playing soccer on the riverside field, and among them was Tabby. Ivy leaned over the handrail and shouted.

  “Tabby!”

  Tabby looked up, noticed Ivy on the bridge, and smiled.

  “I’ll bring your guitar back,” Ivy shouted again.

  “What did you say?” Tabby asked, frowning.

  “Your guitar. I’ll bring it back,” Ivy repeated.

  “What?”

  Ivy said nothing more, turned around, and started running.

  “Wait, Ivy!” Tabby called, then ran toward him.

  “You said you’d bring it back? For what, and how?” Tabby caught up with Ivy immediately, panting as he spoke.

  “How?”

  Ivy realized that he hadn’t thought about how to do it and suddenly felt ashamed. Mr. Wilson would never listen to Ivy’s request; given how grumpy he was, he would likely kick Ivy out of his office. Neither could Ivy sneak into the office to take the guitar, because the old man rarely left the building, and whenever he did, he made sure to lock all the doors and windows.

  “Think a bit more before you speak,” Tabby said, looking amazed. Ivy bit his lower lip and gave an embarrassed smile.

  “Like I said, I don’t need that guitar anymore.”

  “I know, but if I bring it back, can I have it?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want that mean old man to have your guitar as a prize. I’d rather have it myself. Can I keep it?”

  Tabby stared at him in surprise before breaking into a grin.

  “I thought you were meek, but you seem daring, even.”

  Ivy was taken aback by this remark. He didn’t see himself as meek, nor as daring.

  “Okay.”

  Tabby tapped his finger on the handrail of the bridge.

  “If you can bring it back, I’ll give it to you.”

  “Really?”

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  “Yes.”

  “Thanks, it’s a promise, then.”

  As soon as Ivy thanked Tabby, he turned around and rushed home. But Tabby grabbed him by the arm.

  “Wait, you’re going now?”

  “Oh, of course not. I’ll make a plan.”

  Grinning at Tabby, Ivy started running again. As he reached the street, he looked back and saw Tabby standing still on the bridge, a blank look of surprise on his face.

  “Mr. Wilson rarely goes out,” Alma said, biting the top of her pen. The next day at school, after hearing his plan, she became enthusiastic and volunteered to cooperate. They visited Tesus’s garage after school.

  “Are you sure he’s that frightening?” Tesus seemed to only half believe that an adult in town could be so scary.

  “He is. I’m sure he hates children. When we play or talk loudly near his office, he yells at us or chases us away with a broom in his hand. He even says, ‘I’ll call the police!’”

  Tesus laughed wryly.

  “That’s frightening.”

  Ivy sank into thought. Wilson lived in a house attached to the phone office, and the house had a chimney.

  “How about sneaking into the house through the chimney at night?” Ivy suggested.

  “I’m good at climbing,” Alma said, rolling up her sleeve.

  Tesus frowned.

  “That’s dangerous. You could fall and get injured. And since it’s getting cold, it’s possible he has already lit the fireplace.”

  “Ah, right. Also, I have to sneak out of the house at night, which is difficult in the first place.” Ivy growled and crossed his arms. Tesus leaned back in his chair.

  “Someone shouts ‘fire!’ and, while Mr. Wilson comes out, the other rushes into the office quickly and takes it.”

  “Yes, I think that’s the best way too.”

  Ivy had thought about it himself. Even Mr. Wilson wouldn’t lock the door during a fire. However, it was Mr. Wilson they were about to deal with. The shout had to be loud enough for the old man to hear clearly. And even if he heard it, he might be too skeptical to run out of the office.

  “We have to make sure to lure him out, as far away from the office as possible, leaving the door unlocked, right?” Ivy said.

  “I’ll take it back,” he said easily, but it turned out to be much more difficult than expected. Everyone fell silent, lost in thought, when they suddenly heard popping sounds filling the room. He noticed, for the first time since he arrived, that a beaker on the table was making the noise and releasing smoke into the air, despite having been there from the start.

  “It’s smoking again,” he remarked.

  Alma frowned and waved her hand in front of her nose. “Oh, it’s no problem if you inhale.”

  Despite saying that, Tesus turned around in the spinning chair, reached out, and opened the window.

  “Hey!”

  Suddenly, Tabby’s face appeared just outside the window.

  “Whoa, don’t surprise me!” Tesus exclaimed, nearly falling off his chair from the shock.

  “I knew you all were here,” Tabby said. He went around the garage, appeared at the door, walked inside, and casually sat in the nearest chair as if it were his own room.

  ‘“We’re making a plan to take the guitar back,” Ivy said.

  Alma shut her eyes and crossed her arms dramatically. Tabby sniffed but then grinned at Ivy.

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am,” Ivy replied.

  “Isn’t it wrong to sneak into someone’s house?”

  Ivy shrank back from Tabby’s combative tone.

  “It is. But the phone office is a place that anyone in town can use. And it’s wrong that Mr. Wilson took someone’s lost item.”

  “When my mother was away on business, I went to the office to call her, but he brushed me off and said, ‘Kids aren’t allowed to come inside,’” Alma broke in, her face suddenly furious as if recalling the anger from that moment.

  “Right, everyone who wants to make a call should be allowed into the office. And it’s not wrong to take back something that was taken from you,” Ivy concluded, just as Tabby let out a laugh.

  “Alright. Sounds fun. I’ll go with you.”

  “Will you?”

  Ivy was surprised that Tabby would join them and felt an unexpected excitement. Tabby nodded, picked up a ball from the floor, and tossed it into the air, catching it several times.

  “If you come up with any good ideas…”

  He threw the ball at the basket attached to the opposite wall.

  “Don’t!”

  At that moment, Tesus shouted and stood up just as a loud blast pierced the air.

  “What was that?!”

  Tabby shouted in amazement. Alma also gasped, her eyes wide in awe. Ivy pressed his hands against his chest, trying to calm his pounding heart.

  “Sorry.”

  Tesus apologized to everyone. Something fluttered down beneath the basket. Tesus stood up and picked it up. It was a piece of paper.

  “I hung it on the basket to dry. It explodes with the slightest stimulation.”

  “Explodes?”

  Alma repeated.

  “Despite the dramatic sound, it’s not dangerous. See?”

  Tesus showed the paper to them. In the center of the paper, there was a hole with a black ring around its rim.

  “Don’t scare us with such strange things.”

  Tabby sighed in relief. Ivy, however, seemed to be deep in thought.

  “Isn’t it dangerous?”

  “No. Not much.”

  Tesus answered, still holding the paper.

  “Can we use it then?”

  Three days later, Ivy grabbed the doorknob of the telephone office, holding his meager allowance, which he had begged his mother for in advance. As soon as the bell on the door rang, he was greeted by the yelling of the old man.

  “Children aren’t allowed to come in!”

  “A phone call! I want to make a phone call!”

  Ivy shot back at the owner, holding up the banknote. Wilson snorted, slapped his newspaper, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Who do you want to call?”

  “My brother, in Selsor.”

  Ivy paid the charge and walked over to the phone, the only one in the office. As he glanced out the window, he saw the guitar, the ball, and various other items still displayed in the window. Outside, at the terrace of the café across the street, a couple sat at a table reading books—Tesus and Alma. He took a deep breath and touched the telephone for the first time in his life. Following Tesus’s instructions, he dialed the number for the phone office in Selsor and pressed the receiver to his ear. His heart began to pound. After a few beeps, the line clicked.

  “Selsor phone office.”

  “Um, I’m Ivy Piccard from Wilder. I’d like to speak to my brother, Cobe Piccard.”

  “Please hold on a second, sir,” the operator said, and then silence came from the other side of the line. While he waited for the operator to return, he tapped his finger on the phone and glanced at the window. Tesus looked at him over his book and gave a thumbs-up. Ivy nodded. A sound snapped, followed by the operator’s voice, apologetic in tone.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting. Do you have an appointment with him? He doesn’t seem to be here.”

  “Ah, it’s okay. Maybe he forgot about the appointment, or he might have gotten the time wrong,” he said, his voice tinged with trouble as he scratched his head.

  “May I take a message for him?”

  “No, no. It’s okay then. Thank you,” Ivy said, quickly hanging up the phone.

  Bang!

  A thunderclap pierced the street. Then the air was filled with pink smoke.

  “What’s that!?” Mr. Wilson raised his face from the newspaper.

  “An explosion!” came the shout from outside.

  “It’s an explosion! Mr. Wilson, quick, run as fast as you can!” Ivy urged Wilson, who was standing up very slowly with the help of his arm against the chair. They opened the door and darted outside.

  “An explosion occurred at a factory over there. Evacuate immediately,” Tabby, who had just passed by, said, taking Wilson by the arm. He could barely see the street through the pink smoke. People were buzzing, confused.

  Boom!

  The sound came again from beyond the smoke.

  “Ah, alright,” Wilson said, obediently following Tabby toward safety. Meanwhile, Ivy returned to the office, grabbed the guitar, the ball, and the doll, and dashed in the opposite direction from where Wilson and Tabby had gone. Dodging panicking people, he sprinted down the street. Even after the pink smoke cleared, he didn’t slow down, turning toward the river and continuing to run. The guitar was clinking against his chest as he ran. When he reached the foot of the bridge, he finally stopped, gently laid the things he carried on the ground, and stretched out next to them. His side ached from the run. He gazed at the cold, clear sky, with thin white clouds drifting lazily. He took a deep breath. The wind brushed against his sweaty body, cooling him down. He heard footsteps approaching from above.

  “It was so exciting!”

  Alma said, panting.

  ‘I did a terrible thing.’

  Tesus, too, was panting and collapsed onto the grass. Ivy sat up and faced them, raising the guitar in his hand.

  ‘You did it!’

  Alma and Tesus beamed with delight. Ivy nodded at them firmly. Footsteps neared, and Tabby appeared.

  ‘That old man,’ he said, pushing the back of his hand against his mouth to settle his breathing.

  ‘He was furious, almost to the point of breathing fire, when he discovered the guitar was gone.’

  The others were stunned.

  ‘He said it was Piccard who did it. He insisted on taking you to the police.’

  ‘Ah…’

  Ivy knew no one else could be the suspect but him. He felt a chill in his stomach and bit his lower lip tightly.

  ‘So I told him that without evidence, he could never catch you.’

  Tabby grinned. The other three, who had been tense with nerves, were taken aback for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

  ‘That’s a good one,’ Alma praised.

  ‘Was it too much that I made the smoke pink?’

  Tesus sat up on his elbows, stretching his legs out.

  ‘It gave an ambiance.’

  ‘That explosion sound was very real. Though I knew it was coming, I still jumped.’

  ‘I still have pain in my side.’

  Alma and Ivy leaned toward each other and laughed.

  ‘The shop street won’t settle down for a while.’

  Tabby sat down with his legs crossed. As Ivy looked up, still laughing, the clouds began racing across the sky.

  ‘Can you play something for us?’

  Ivy held out the guitar to Tabby. He stared at Ivy with a slightly surprised look, then received the guitar without a word. He laid it across his thighs and caressed the surface. He plucked the strings, and a beautiful sound filled the air. The sound gradually turned into a melody. It was different from the lively tunes of the band at the festival—quiet and calm instead. He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, his heart filled with sadness. The sound of the reeds rustling in the wind harmonized with the guitar beneath the bridge, easing their tired bodies.

  The music stopped suddenly. Ivy opened his eyes and applauded. Tesus let out a whistle.

  ‘Don’t do that.’

  Tabby smiled shyly, his hand still holding the guitar’s neck.

  “That was beautiful. I wonder if it’s music from Mr. Lansberge’s hometown,” Alma said with a sigh.

  “I don’t know. He only taught me this one tune, and I don’t think he knows any others. Quiet and sad, but I kind of like it.”

  He stroked the surface again and held it out to Ivy.

  “This is yours.”

  “I don’t need it. It’s yours,” Ivy replied, his palms still resting on the grass.

  “We promised. You want it, don’t you?”

  Tabby didn’t withdraw his arm.

  “I don’t know how to play the guitar anyway. I’ll entrust it to you. So, play it for us sometimes.”

  Ivy said plainly, offering a grin. Tabby looked surprised.

  “Okay.”

  Holding back his hand, Tabby let the guitar settle on his lap.

  “I’ve finally got my ball back.”

  Ivy held up the ball with both hands, tossed it into the air, and caught it. The air came out of the ball, softening it slightly, but it still had that familiar smell.

  “Have you taken this doll too?”

  Alma picked up the doll from the grass.

  “Yes, it was placed right next to the guitar, so I took it without thinking much. I don’t even know whose doll this is.”

  “It’s cute, but it looks old.”

  Alma turned the doll over, gave a penetrating stare at its back, and let out a small cry.

  “There’s a name written on it!”

  On the back of the doll, beneath the dress, some letters were etched.

  “Rhea Cysat.”

  “That’s my sister!”

  As soon as Alma read the name, Tesus exclaimed.

  “Are you sure?”

  Alma handed the doll to Tesus.

  “Yes. And now I remember, I’ve seen this before. This was her favorite doll. Father bought it for her when he went on a business trip to the central city. When she lost it, she was really depressed.”

  He stroked the head of the doll gently and held it to his chest.

  “I never imagined this would return to her like this. Thank you; she’d be so happy.”

  “Thanks to you, and your smoke and sound.”

  They praised each other for their good work while sitting by the riverside.