The Laugh in the Tag — Every evening, Quen tapped the little wooden tag at his belt before crossing the bamboo bridge: tik-tak, tik-tak, two beats for courage, two for home. Read the full story →
Every evening, Quen tapped the little wooden tag at his belt before crossing the bamboo bridge: tik-tak, tik-tak, two beats for courage, two for home. He wanted to reach the hill pavilion before moonrise and play the tag’s rhythm on the festival drum, just as Master Oda had done. The river smelled of wet stone and minty reeds, and Quen’s swords clicked softly on his shell as he hurried.
Until one day, the bridge ropes snapped loose with a whip-crack, and the festival lanterns on both banks went dark. Because of that, Quen could not cross safely; because of THAT, the drummers on the hill began the wrong signal, a slow boom meant for storms. People rushed for cover, geese honked, and bamboo leaves hissed like shaken paper.
Quen grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. He struck the tag against the bridge rail: tik-tak, tik-tak! The bamboo answered hollow and bright. Children clapped from the reeds, then lantern keepers clapped, then the drummers heard and changed their beat. “Pass it on!” Quen shouted. The whole river became one bouncing song, and by moonrise, every foot on both banks knew two beats for courage, two for home. If you spot Quen on the bridge, see whether that little tag is still ready to start the tik-tak.
