The Bridge To Nihon (BOOK ONE)

Chapter 21 - Meeting the Audience

At first, Sofia was timid like never before. She held out the wide-brimmed, floppy hat that Kaido had given her without uttering a single word or even looking people directly in the eye. She hoped that people would throw in money or other valuables without her having to open her mouth. She was afraid that with every word, with every gesture, she might give herself away. And though she didn't know what would happen then, Kaido and Mica's caution had instilled her with a sense of terror that only the unknown can spark.

She remembered Aunt Sybil's severe reaction to Orì, and the way her friend had acted towards her, deferential and distant, not at all like she usually was.

What was going on between her world and Nihon? Why was there an animosity that went so far that both sides all but ignored the existence of the other? The only thing that Sofia knew for sure was that she was not welcome in Nihon. If it came out that she was from the Other Side, as people referred to her world in Nihon, everything would change, and not for the better.

So, she was confused as to why Kaido seemed to have thrown caution to the wind and sent her out into the audience to interact with people.

"What a wonderful play, really, really wonderful," a man with a neck that was so short he didn't seem to have one, said to Sofia, and the others on his table agreed. He looked at her with a grin, and his friends laughed knowingly.

His neck elongated as if made from rubber. His head shot towards Sofia until he was almost nose to nose with her. His eyelids fluttered.

"You don't agree, hmm?"

Sofia stood stock-still with fright, and the table erupted in laughter.

The man bellowed, too. He turned to his friends, his neck snapping back to a normal length. "Didn't I tell you? Didn't I tell you?" he shouted, exceedingly pleased with his performance. Without giving Sofia another glance, he dropped a couple of coins into the hat, and when it became clear that nobody at the table returned their attention to her, she moved on.

At the next table, two women were engaged in deep conversation. One was moving her finger in expressive lines, and as Sofia came closer, she saw that there were animated images reflected on the smooth surface of the table. Figures were moving around, flat and two-dimensional, yet life-like, their mouths silently opening and closing like ventriloquist dolls. One of the figures had the exact likeness of the woman who was talking, and she was in the center of the picture.

The woman interrupted her account when Sofia approached. The picture froze on the table, and she looked up at Sofia with an expression of annoyance.

"Can't you see we are having a private conversation?"

Sofia kneaded the hat in her hands, hesitating.

"Uhm," she made.

"Go away," the other woman said, and Sofia quickly, and with relief, continued to the next table.

"Brutes," an elegant looking man with a tiny, neat grey moustache said. "This is a public place, and one should behave oneself accordingly. Publicly."

He opened his mouth as little as possible while speaking as if he was afraid that a fly would enter it. His gloved hands were lying on the table, one neatly crosse over the other. Without him moving in the slightest, the button on his breast pocket opened, the flap widened and a folded handkerchief came out as if pulled by an invisible string. It placed itself on the table, opened its four edges one after the other, and a perfectly round coin with the man's own face pressed onto it soared from the pile of others exactly like it. It transported itself into Sofia's hat, where it clinked as it touched the other pieces.