Page 66 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
“You agree?” she asked. “Weagreeon something?”
“Not the first thing,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He smiled. “I’ll show you. Tomorrow.”
The next morning,Painter awoke eagerly and stretched. The floor was faintly warm from the wagon having been lowered to the ground for the night. He could imagine how comfortable it must be on a cold night to settle down into that heat: blanket on top, radiance beneath. Like an ember crumbling into the bed of a fire. Though he wasn’t ready to give up his soft futon yet, maybe therewassomething to Yumi’s way of doing things.
Well, some of the things she did.
As she was drowsily sitting up and arranging her sleeping gown, Painter strode over to the door. It opened on its own, Chaeyung standing outside with a table and Hwanji beside her with a small tray of food. They arrived early and waited there, listening for noise so they would know when to enter.
Painter took the tray of food. “Thanks!” he said. “I’ll eat alone today.” He winked at them, then shut the door.
Behind him, Yumi gasped.
He walked back to his blankets and sat. Then he dug in, using themaipon sticks for the rice, though the attendants always used a spoon. Which was odd, but perhaps it was a ritual thing.
He looked up at Yumi’s horrified stare.
“What?” he said, wiping his mouth. “Rice on my lips? Sorry. I was hungry.” He dug back in, picking at all the little bowls of savory delights they always brought to augment the rice. That was a nice touch—made him feel like he was eating a huge feast, even though each side dish contained only a bite or two. Enormous variety, but in microcosm.
“Painter!” she said. “I… What…” Evidently she was having trouble speaking. Almost hyperventilating.
He paused. He’d expected her to be upset. He hadn’t anticipated…well, this.
“Yumi,” he said. “Breathe. It’s all right. The world isn’t going to end because I decide to feed myself.”
She gasped more frantically. As if she thought, just maybe, the worldwouldend.
He reached for her, but stopped shy of touching her. “Yumi,” he said. “Look at what you’ve been doing in my world. Feeding yourself, moving around freely. The spiritsgavethat to you. They aren’t going to care if I eat on my own.”
She settled down nearby and held her head, not looking at him. That…really was a stronger reaction than he’d anticipated. Maybe…maybe he should call the attendants back. He turned to do so, but at that very moment the door swung open.
Liyun stood outside, immaculate as always, today in a bell-shaped maroon gown, her white bow tied tightly, not a hair on her head out of place. Though she appeared…more haggard than usual. Bags under her eyes. Had she not been sleeping well?
She stepped into the wagon, leaving her clogs outside, then kneltbefore Painter, studying him. “You look pale,” she said. “It seems you have not fully recovered from your…malady last week. Perhaps you should lie down, then rise again, starting this day over. After you remember who you are.”
“I remember,” Painter said, then took another bite, out of spite. This woman…“Tell me, Liyun. As a yoki-hijo, is it my prerogative to choose to feed myself?”
“You are blessed by the spirits,” Liyun said, enunciating each word precisely. “You are granted thewisdomto decide tofollowtheir dictates.”
“And if that wisdom leads me to eat on my own?” He took another bite. “I’m not on duty today; I’m just practicing. So if I feel that I should relax a little, what would you do?”
“I follow you,” she said, “as is my responsibility. Andhopethat you are not becomingunfit.”
Yumi’s breathing became gasps again.
Painter didn’t back down. Something about Liyun simply set him off. We’ve all had that experience with one human mosquito or another—if it’s not the buzzing, then the leeching of our blood will do it. He hated how Liyun never said what she wanted, but instead left her intent to drip from cold words. Condensation of the pure essence of patronization.
“Do you think I’m unfit?” he asked.
“I do not decide fitness,” Liyun said, bowing her head with what felt to him to be mock humility. “I only serve.”
“Great,” Painter said. “This is how you serve me today. Make sure I have peace and quiet as I eat. I want to consider the best way to recover.”
“If that is what you wish,” she said slowly, “and you arecertainthat you do notinsteadwish to followproperprotocol.”
