The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 147: The Kitchen God Finally Gets His Festival

"Pull left! Pull left! He's telling us to go left!" bellowed one of the bears on the left side of the palanquin that held the Kitchen God's image.

The bears on that side yanked on their carrying pole, making the palanquin tip precariously. Its silk hangings, beaded and embroidered by Lodia, flapped like war banners.

"No, he wants us to go right!" a bear on the right side of the palanquin yelled back. "He tugged on the pole! I felt it!"

"I felt a stronger tug to the left!"

"Left! Left! Left!" chanted the crowd of Goldhill residents on the left side of the palanquin.

"Right! Right! Right!" shouted the residents on the right.

To laughter and whoops and applause, the bears tussled furiously. I had most definitely not told them to do that, but the Goldhill residents were having so much fun that I decided not to stop them.

Eventually, the bears on the left won out, and the palanquin zigzagged on its merry path down the street.

Good thing they tied down the image, Stripey observed. The two of us were flying after the palanquin, supervising its progress from the air.

Good thing the South Sericans remember how to make paper, was my response.

This procession wouldn't have been nearly as festive without the firecrackers. Worshippers lit them and hurled them into the Kitchen God's path, carpeting the ground with shredded red paper. The dragon and lion dancers bounded through the smoke, their colors flashing.

I spotted a man who was heating a plow over an open fire. He swiped the fuses of a handful of firecrackers across the hot metal and flung them into the street. Idiot. If he blew off his own hands, I was not going to be responsible.

Except I probably was.

Note to self: Next year, make sure the healers are on alert.

What are those people doing?! Stripey's alarm yanked me out of thoughts of next year's karma-earning festival.

Down in the street, an elderly human couple hobbled right in front of the palanquin and slowly got down on their hands and knees, prostrating themselves. I could see the bears' consternation: Were they supposed to detour around the couple? If so, in which direction?

One of the bears shouted, "He's not pulling in either direction! He wants us to go straight!"

Straight? As in, right over the old man and woman? I could have pecked his eyes out!

"Yes!" agreed the crowd. "Straight! Straight!"

I couldn't peck all of their eyes out, and yet....

The bears stepped outward to open up more space under the palanquin. Then they marched forward again, carrying the image over the couple. Once they had passed, onlookers helped the old humans to their feet. Tears streamed down their cheeks, and the old woman sobbed, "I felt his divine presence. He is here. He is watching over us."

"They were blessed by the Kitchen God!" rose the shout, and the crowd swarmed the couple to pepper them with questions about how it had felt to be blessed by the god.

One, then two, then a dozen people chased after the palanquin, darted in front of it, and flung themselves to the ground one after another. The bears' shoulders rippled with shrugs, and they carried the palanquin over those people too.