Tea song

Eleven.

My mother took me. I remember we had to take the bus for a while - we even had lunch at one of those rest stops. There were mountains all around, and everyone was quiet, but there were so many Songs. It was amazing.  

I can't remember who did the ceremony, unfortunately. I've been trying to find out for years now. 

I'm fairly certain it was Stone Tree River style. I can’t remember the tea itself, but there were chimes and I certainly remember the smell of morning glories in the air...

Very shortly after. I begged my mom for lessons before we got back on the bus. 

No, it was just something I did on the weekends. I didn’t even know that tea specialist schools existed until high school. 

(laugh) I think the guidance counselor was more shocked than I was! 

*

It’s not cold in the main tea room but it’s also not what I’d call warm.  Everyone warned me not to, but I can’t help but contrast it to other tea rooms I’ve sat in. The lack of a fire pit is unnerving, not to mention how quiet it is without any machines. It doesn’t feel like a place made for tea.  

*

Right after high school, yes. 

Two years. 

On my graduation certificate, it says Orange Osmanthus style, but to be honest, I didn’t really have a specialty.  

Administrative assistant, actually.  I thought that tea wasn’t anything serious to me at the time, but looking back, that admin job and the jobs I took afterward were all so I could take lessons and participate in ceremonies.  

No, not really because of the pay, more for the schedule.  For example, that admin job ended early in the afternoon.  There was a sales assistant job I took that let me make my own hours, which was really convenient. 

*

Master Suzuki brings out a plain, paper-covered canister of tea for me to inspect.  I took it in my hands and handed it back.   I’d only seen a Gold Cosmos style tea ceremony twice before, but at this point, I don’t really care.  There was a vending machine down the street that had a limited edition orange flavored tea.  I’ll probably get one on my way home.

*

It was during that 100 days of rain. I remember because Madame Asuka had these beautiful white rain boots. 

(laugh) Yes, she always made a memorable first impression. 

We had tea, she talked about this tea garden.  When she asked though, I declined.

I didn’t feel like I was ready.   

Well, Madame Asuka wasn’t one to take no for an answer (laugh).  I was between jobs at the time so we agreed that I would work at the Sokuda tea house part-time to help her out.  

(laugh) Yes, all part of her plan. 

*

It was like being underwater, after jumping off Rainbow Cliff in Blue Turtle Bay. Back when we were kids, we’d try to see who could go the deepest before coming back up for air.  Sometimes I felt like my lungs would burst before I got to the surface, the bright sun shimmering just out of reach and then suddenly I could breathe again, everything sparkling and beautiful. So loud, so sharp, so alive. I hadn’t remembered that in ages. 

*

It wasn’t Madame at all, no.  The stories always make her out to be some kind of demon, but she taught me quite a bit.  The machines in her kitchen were top of the line and she treated all of her staff well.  

Well, it was Pearl Waterfall style, so you had to work fast.  And working with the machines, it’s different.  But it also made sense, to me anyway.  

I don’t think I’ve ever thought of it that way.  Studying the parallels between the use of Song and machine in tea would be an interesting study. 

I hope so.  I certainly don’t want to be the last. 

*

It was the bushes by the shore.  When we dragged ourselves from the water, we’d flop onto our backs and dry ourselves there under the sun.  If anyone fell asleep, we’d see how many ribbon roses we could braid into their hair.  The most they ever got on me was five. I didn’t know it could be made into tea.  

*

(laughs) Well, Madame wouldn’t let me stay.  

So, while I was working at Sokuda, I had decided to take some evening classes at the local college.  I’d heard that they’d started offering a course on Song so I decided to see what it was like.  

No, my mother did teach me some basic melodies but there wasn’t any sort of formal study back then. At least none that I knew of. Which might not be saying much considering how I didn’t know about tea specialist schools (laugh).

A little bit.  For example, if I was in a rush to get to work and I noticed my plants were drooping, I used Song to water it. Very small things.  

Exactly, there’s all sorts of gadgets that can be used nowadays that are more convenient than any magic, really. 

Yes, well, during breaks at Sokuda,I would take a teapot with me and study in the back of the kitchen. Just going over notes, or reviewing for the evening’s quiz, that sort of thing.  I tried not to go into the kitchen because I knew if I did, I’d just go back to working, so I just used Song to keep my tea warm.  

No, I didn’t think anything of it.  I didn’t realize that until Madame Asuka found me one day. And then she told me I couldn’t work there anymore. 

I still remember, of course.  She said, “You must show the world what your Song can do with tea.”

(laughs) Yes, and then she kicked me out.  

*

The teacup fits into my palm like any other cup. The liquor inside is nothing surprising either.  How did she know to make this tea?  Her voice didn’t seem anything special but her Song …  Song magic doesn’t make you a mind reader. … Right? 

*

Oh, absolutely.  I was terrified.  But Madame would send someone my way every now and then.  Later, a friend of that someone would visit, who would then send their friend, and so on.  

Not at the beginning.  I had to take side jobs for the first three years.  

Eleven. 

(laughs) It really doesn’t feel that long.  

Yes, that’s true.

That’s very kind of you to say.  I’m grateful for this time together as well. 

I insist, please. 

Certainly.  Please be safe going home. 

* 

The world seems to have burst into a golden hue since I last stepped out into it. Every step takes me further away from the tea house, from Master Suzuki’s voice. The hum of the vending machine melds with my own as I walk home, trying to decide which of the plain, paper-covered canisters I should open first.