She raised her heavy head, coiling her brown-and-green checkered body tightly, and squeaked in a surprisingly thin voice:
-I'm just a regular anaconda. Was napping in the jungle, wrapped around some kind of palm tree—coconut, maybe? I'm no florist, so don't quote me. Then I got a call: 'Cover for a sick host.' So here I am, doing an extra shift. Please don't judge too harshly.
Not willing to listen to her excuses, Pom-Pom tossed aside his popcorn, leapt up, and clicked his heels for emphasis:
-Anacond, Comic-Con, Marathon, Gong, what's going on? Dong… ding dong? He trailed off.
Silence. Then Mami sighed heavily:
-Musical ineptitude… but I'll admit, you caught the rhythm. And when the beat drops—I repeat!
Half the woodpeckers instantly began hammering, while the other half sang:
-I am a woodpecker and I will eat pepper.
Mami bounced on her hoverboard, singing ad-libs:
-Pepe, Pepe.
The coffee machine finished a macchiato, set a paper cup on the stage, and joined in:
-I'm a coffee machine, I wear blue jeans and sing Billie Jean. I'm coffee, oh-oh, coffee.
-Oh-oh! And I'm not coffee! their conductor shouted back, lost in her own ecstatic riffs. It wasn't that Mami had a great voice—but she was giving it everything she had.
And that alone made Yuki trace the number 5 in the sand. The grains dampened, clumped, and rose into the air so Mami could see how her effort was being scored.
The wooden stage split open, belching smoke and thunder. Someone had apparently hauled in their personal volcano for special effects. As the noise faded, a giant pack of pasta bounded toward the microphone, where the anaconda was still dozing. Jumping to reach the stand, it sang:
-And I'm a pack of pasta. My dreadlocks are like a Rasta's.
It burst open, releasing strands of dough that really did look like dreads.
Yuki applauded, whistled, and sang along—until her eyes slid sideways. She noticed another spectator she'd missed among the chaos. A girl in a simple red checkered dress sat nearby, watching the stage without a single expression, sadness plain on her face.
Dragging her brother away from the popcorn by his ear, Yuki sat down next to the quiet girl in the red dress. The girl traced patterns in the sand and muttered softly:
-They stole it. They stole her.
Lil C., with his usual delicate touch, commanded:
-I forbid you to be sad! Look around—this place has salty, crunchy popcorn, hippos that sing and dance, and Pom-Pom promised to teach me how to jump in puddles without getting wet. Nobody's allowed to mope here!
-Lil C., stop. You're pushing her too hard. Yuki shoved him aside and leaned toward the sad girl with more care. First she tried a joke:
-See? Your braids are way prettier than my brother's French braids.
-Hey! I just had mine redone at the barbershop, thank you very much. Don't drag me into this, Lil C. protested, proud of his hairstyle.
-I said it to help her calm down, Yuki hissed back at him, then softened her tone again for the girl. -So, what did they steal? Can you tell us anything?
-Far away. He's far away. Or close? … The girl kept mumbling to herself, not paying attention to them.
-Hmm. We came here to help the grandma singer, remember? And now you're totally about to drag me off chasing some mystery for this girl, Lil C. pointed out, sharper than usual.
-Don't you see? This is the grandma. Just a heavy memory of hers. We need to change it, to bring back her confidence.
-Whoa, you sound like a real detective. He was impressed. -All those logic games of yours—guess they finally paid off. I always thought they were boring.
-Oh, cut it out! Yuki blushed, secretly pleased. -Thanks though. Come on, let's find it.
The concert raged on. Pom-Pom was now dancing cheek-to-cheek with a sparking phone charger shouting, -Man, this vibe really recharges me! Meanwhile, Mami stood at the edge of the stage, ready to stage-dive into a crowd of fans that didn't exist. She nudged the drowsy anaconda and asked her to catch instead.
-Well, they're keeping busy. Yuki decided. -Let's go alone. The girl said the thing might be nearby.
-Yep. Like right there. Lil C. pointed. They spotted a lone aquarium, a tiny guppy flicking her fins and bubbling happily in her glass home.
-That aquarium has to mean something. No way it's just decoration, Lil C. reasoned.
-I think so too. Let's check.
As soon as they stepped closer, the sand erupted. A huge dresser burst out, spraying grit everywhere, and lifted the aquarium onto its top, towering over the children.
-Not bad! Lil C. admired the flourish.
-Meow!
The reply boomed so loud it gave them goosebumps.
They whirled around. A massive cat—three times taller than them—was prowling straight toward the dresser. Clearly, it planned to leap up.
-Shoo! Get back! they shouted in unison. -Don't touch the innocent fish!
The cat jumped in surprise, glaring at them as if they'd spoken unspeakable blasphemy. His ginger fur bristled, and with an offended snort he turned away.
-I was only going to sip the water. It's delicious—seaweed and other seasonings give it such an exotic flavor, I must say.
-You could knock it over! Yuki scolded—but her voice softened. -Please don't, okay?