The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 37: That Cursed Chicken Coop

As the wintry days passed, Honeysuckle Croft and its inhabitants started to edge towards presentability. And by presentable, I mean that they no longer bedded down with the livestock, ate with one boot propped on the bench, or butchered the Serican language quite so often. I hadn't succeeded in getting them off the floor and into proper beds yet, but that was mostly because they lacked the supplies, the carpentry skills, and the money required to hire someone with aforementioned supplies and carpentry skills.

Still, overall, things were looking up for all of us – the Jeks because they no longer slouched along with their eyes on the ground, and me because just look at how much I was improving these humans' lives! Think of all the karma I was earning! Reincarnee of the Decade, here I come!

As the New Year approached, I was feeling optimistic.

And not just because of my career in home improvement, but also because the Kitchen God was due to leave Earth on the twenty-third of the Bitter Moon, return to the Bureau of Reincarnation for a week, and make sure Cassius wasn't trying to wrest power away from him. No matter how incompetent a bureau head the absentee Kitchen God was, I guaranteed that Cassius would be worse. He held a deep and personal grudge against me. As for the Kitchen God, well, I doubted that he was even aware of my existence. He was too busy flitting from kitchen to kitchen across the length and breadth of Serica, spying on families for his end-of-the-year report to Heaven and scrounging for offerings (a.k.a. bribes) from his worshippers. The zeal with which he tackled that portion of his responsibilities suggested that he wouldn't have much power in Heaven otherwise.

Always good to have a supervisor who doesn't bother to supervise you.

So anyway, I was in a good mood when that cat spirit carpenter, Master Gravitas, dropped by for a visit one morning. It wasn't too long after dawn, so I was still dragging my exhausted, danced-out self across the fields from Caltrop Pond when I heard Taila's squeal of delight.

"Uncle Tasy! Uncle Tasy!"

The cat's voice drifted to me on the wind. "Hullo, Taila. Mornin', Master Jek, Mistress Jek. Ailus, Cailus, Nailus."

"Master Gravitas!" exclaimed Mistress Jek in the second-most respectful tone I'd heard from her. (First place went to the one she reserved for me and Flicker.) "What a pleasure to see you!"

At the polite phrasing, I nodded to myself in congratulations. Just look at what a good teacher I was!

Her next sentence partially spoiled the effect, though. "What brings you here so early in the mornin'?"

Ugh, sigh. I rolled my eyes. She was still dropping her "ing"s. We'd have to work on it more.

The cat, however, didn't register her faux pas. In even worse Serican, he said, "I was hopin' t'catch both o' you afore Master Jek goes out t'check on the fields."

"Oh, fer real?" asked Master Jek, who didn't learn nearly as fast as his wife.

At the same time, Mistress Jek inquired, "What about?" Then, recalling her manners, she invited, "Won't you come in, please? Have you eaten yet? You should have breakfast with us. Rice porridge and pickled greens. Ailus! Go get Master Gravitas an egg! Master Gravitas, how d'you like your eggs cooked?"

"Oh no no no, no need, I ate before comin'. I'll just have some tea."

Their voices moved indoors as I finally plodded to the edge of the yard. Circling around it, I found an angle that let me see through the doorway and make out their vague shapes inside the dark cottage. Then I hid in a clump of dead grasses so neither Master Gravitas nor Taila would catch sight of me. No amount of berating or biting had ever taught her not to introduce her turtle friend to everyone she met.