The boy band were sitting together on the sofa in their dressing room with stunned looks on their faces. The biggest one, whose expression was the most forlorn, was fumbling distractedly with a piece of paper, folding it and tapping it.
Molly, Micky, and Gerry edged into the room.
“Hi, guys. Great show,” said Micky gently.
“You were brilliant,” added Molly.
“The best band I’ve ever seen live,” enthused Gerry, pushing from behind. “Well, actually the first band I’ve ever seen live, but still, you were A-MAZIN’.”
“Glad someone thought so.” Hiroyuki, the boy with the paper in his hands, smiled. “My keyboards weren’t good. Apparently we were sucking.”
“You were sucking what?” asked Gerry.
“He means we sucked,” explained Chokichi. “His English is sometimes a bit wrong.”
“You didn’t,” said Molly, stepping closer. “You were really good. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Is he your dad?” asked Gerry.
“No,” Chokichi replied, half laughing. “He’s our manager.”
“He’s putting you down,” said Molly, “so that you think you’re so bad that no one else will ever manage you. It’s because you’re so good that he’s doing it. He doesn’t want you to leave him.”
“Ya think so?” said Toka, the small, muscular one. “Because he real mean just then. I don’t like performing anyway. An’ his meanness make me want to kit.”
“To kit?”
“He means quit,” explained Chokichi.
“Well, he’s wrong,” Molly assured Toka.
The band boys looked at one another and perked up a little.
“Thanks for coming, Micky,” said Hiroyuki. “And this your sister, Molly?”
Micky nodded. “And this is Gerry.”
“Hi, guys,” said Hiroyuki.
Chokichi and Toka got up and shook hands with their guests formally. “Hi,” they echoed.
To break the embarrassed silence, Hiroyuki passed Gerry the paper he was holding. It was cleverly folded into the shape of a small elephant. “Here, for you. It baku. Special Japanese spirit creature. It have trunk and tusk of elephant but feet of tiger. It eat bad dreams.”
“Wow!” said Gerry. “Thanks. Does it work?”
“Work for me.”
“That lady said the word baku after your manager thumped her. What does it mean?”
Hiroyuki laughed. “No, she said baka, means ‘idiot.’ Poor Miss Sny. Mr. Proila is so mean to her.”
“You’re really good at folding paper!” Gerry said.
“It called origami in Japan. That nothing,” said Chokichi. “Look there.” He pointed to Hiroyuki’s dressing table where an array of little animals stood. The children went over to admire them.
“Wow, they must have taken ages,” Micky said admiringly.
“Not so long.” Hiroyuki laughed. “They magic animals—called henge. I make before show tonight. Calm my nerves.”
“I’ll order up some drinks and more snacks,” said Toka, slapping his knees. He went over to the phone.
“Nice room you’ve got here,” said Molly, walking across to one of the pinball machines. She felt in her pocket for some change. Her fingers closed around the gold coin in its black pouch and she couldn’t resist pulling it out to have a look at it.
“Oh, you don’t need money for them.” Chokichi laughed, joining Molly. “You just press that button.” His eyes fell upon the gold coin. “Wow! What’s that?”
Molly showed the coin to him, tossing it lightly in the air so that he saw both its sides but not letting him touch it. The coin landed in her hand, musical note up. A very strong feeling suddenly gripped her. She really, really did not want Chokichi to touch her coin.
“It’s nothing,” she said nonchalantly.
“Looks like it’s for people who love music, with that note etched on it,” said Chokichi.
“I suppose it is.” Molly put the coin in its black pouch and quickly slipped it back into her pocket. “Is this the thing to pull?” she said to Chokichi to change the subject, pointing at the pinball machine. She pulled back the starter mechanism and let it go.
A small steel ball ricocheted around the obstacle course inside the machine. Gerry came over to see what they were doing.
Molly stood aside to let him take over the paddles. “So how long are you here?” she asked Hiroyuki.
“Till midday tomorrow. Then long flight back to Japan. And you?”
“Not sure yet.” There was a pause. “How come that horrible man is your manager?” Molly asked.
Hiroyuki sighed. “Mr. Proila discover us when we young. Our parents are poor.” Absentmindedly he picked up a piece of brown paper and began folding it. Molly watched his fingers move dextrously. “They signed contract with him. We sing and our parents and our family have better life because of contract. Mr. Proila manage us—make sure we rehearse, book our tours, get our CDs in shops. He deaf, you know. He mean. But he also very rich and powerful. Very successful.” He paused as he finished the little origami sculpture. “This is shishi lion. See open mouth? That to scare off evil spirits.” At an incredible speed he made another. “This his twin. This shishi have closed mouth to keep good spirits safe.” He put the lions together. “So, what you doing here?”
Molly wondered whether to tell Hiroyuki about what they’d been doing in Ecuador. “We’re on a break, a mini-holiday.” Molly sipped some more of her tea.
“So now you go home?”
“Yes, but I really don’t want to!” Molly confided.
“Come to Japan with us! Plenty of room on plane.”
Molly nodded. “Wow. Wish I could. But I can’t.”
The rest of the evening was spent in the adjoining game room. There was a mini shooting gallery, a Ping-Pong table, and a roulette wheel. The hours rolled by. Fueled with sugary fizzy drinks and snacks, they played past midnight.
“I can hardly keep my eyes open, and no wonder—it’s one o’clock,” said Molly, looking at her watch.
Micky yawned. “I suppose we should go.”
“That was the best fun,” said Gerry, giving Toka a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I could play all night.”
“Have a good trip home,” Chokichi said as everyone gathered their things.
“And remember,” said Hiroyuki at the door, “you’re welcome to join us and come to Japan. We have private plane, so it really easy. All you need do”—he handed Molly a piece of paper with a name and number on it—“is call this number. Speak to Miss Yjuko. She air hostess of plane. She tell you where plane leaves and what time.”
Molly smiled. “I think we’ll more likely see you when you come on tour to London. But thanks, Hiroyuki. A nice idea.”
Back at the hotel, Micky and Gerry went to bed.
“Do you think baku really eats the bad dreams?” Molly heard Gerry asking as the door shut.
Molly stayed up for a bit. She walked out onto the balcony and sat down. She put the black pouch on the table and absentmindedly pulled out her gold coin. She wound it between her fingers. Then she looked at the card Hiroyuki had given her. It would be really fun to go to Tokyo in a private jet with him and his brothers. Instead she had to go back to England, to school.
She looked out across the city square. The old buildings of Quito stood before her, their facades lit up. They looked like an audience waiting for something.
In her pocket was the harmonica that Gerry had given her. Molly pulled it out and put it to her lips. She was surprised to find that the sound she made wasn’t bad at all. Amazingly she found that she was playing a tune that she didn’t even realize she knew.
Below, a tramp in the square pulled his blanket around himself and listened to Molly’s music. He took his woolly hat off to hear better. When the music finished, he clapped. “Bravo! Bravo!” he shouted enthusiastically.
Molly stood up and nodded to him and waved. The music she’d played had been remarkable, she thought, for a beginner. Then she noticed an even older man in a tweed suit who had appeared suddenly beside the tramp on the bench. She wondered who he was and where he’d come from. His clothes were strange for the city he was in, and old-fashioned, too. Not wanting an audience, Molly sat back down out of sight.
She rolled her golden coin between her thumb and forefinger. The musical note engraved on it stared back at her. Molly had the peculiar sensation that the coin was actually trying to speak to her, telling her what to do. She thought again about Japan, all the time looking at the golden coin.
“That’s decided then,” she said. “I am going to Japan.”