“I’m happy,” Marin said, voice barely audible above the rush of wind and the melodic drone of electric guitar.“I’m finally happy.”
Before Blake could inquire, Marin peered over his shoulder, gesturing to something beyond them with his chin.
“Hey,” he said, eyes bright.“Here’s what I wanted to show you.”
Blake turned around as they crested the hill.Below them was the dark expanse of the bay surrounding Alcatraz.The water glittered in jade waves below the thin, golden fingers of fog stretched out above.In the afternoon light, the clouds had melted into shades of orange and pink, turning the streets into a golden-flushed version of themselves.
“Aivazovsky.”Blake smiled, struck with recognition.He turned his grin down at Marin, excitement building.“It’s just likeThe Ninth Wave.”
Marin rolled up onto his tip toes, brushing his lips over Blake’s.“The sublime.”
Paused at the hilltop, he and Marin hung off the side of the cable car, entwined with one another, and Blakewanted.
Hewanted.
He selfishly, selfishly wanted these gilded days to go on and on, extending endlessly into the flushed light of the San Francisco Bay.
28
Blake stepped out of the car and onto Post Street, sucking in a breath of cool bay air.The fog that had encircled the city earlier in the day was being blown away by the evening breeze, the last dregs clinging to the streets in the distance.As Blake rounded the car and began to fuss with the credit card reader on the parking meter, Marin climbed out behind him, shedding his jean jacket.
“We’re lucky we didn’t have to mess with the parking garage,” Blake commented, glancing around the empty streets.He’d heard that the Japan Center malls had been suffering for business as of late, and it showed.“You can get trapped in there for hours on weekends.”
“Guess I’m your lucky charm today, then,” Marin teased, craning his neck to see something beyond the mall itself.
“What’s up?”Blake asked, peering down the sidewalk as well.He could see that some sort of structure had been erected in the plaza between the East and West Malls.“Wanna check it out?”
“Sure,” Marin smiled, leading the way.
As they approached, more of the arrangement materialized.There was a temporary shade structure built over a cluster of potted bamboo shoots festooned with leaf-like paper tags.Bead streamers dripped from huge, colorful orbs of paper carnations dangling from the awning.Over to one side was a set of standees of a princess and a farmer reaching out for one another, separated by an informative poster about the event.
“Oh, it’s Tanabata season, huh?”Blake mused as Marin approached the poster to read:
“Tanabata—also known as Hoshimatsuri, the Star Festival, or the Qixi Festival—is a Japanese and Chinese festival observed on the seventh day of the seventh month, either July 7thon the Gregorian calendar, or later on August 7thon the old Lunar calendar.
“Tanabata celebrates the tale of the weaving princess Orihime (the representation of the star Vega) and her cowherd husband Hikoboshi (the representation of the star Altair).For three hundred and sixty-four days out of the year, Orihime and Hikoboshi are kept apart by Orihime’s father, Tentei, and forced to attend to their duties, separated by the river of the Milky Way.However, once a year on July or August 7th, the couple is allowed to meet.
“To celebrate this occasion, wishes are written on slips of paper and hung on bamboo trees, later to either be burned or floated down a local river.”
Marin turned to Blake, asking with a bright smile.“Do you want to write down a wish?”
He gestured towards a nearby card table covered with loose wish slips and golf pencils.Blake smiled, his heart pinching.There was no doubting what he’d be wishing for.
“Sure,” he agreed, approaching the table alongside Marin.He grabbed a tag and pencil, glancing at the merman, who had a hand shielding his own paper.“Is yours a secret?”
“If you know my wish, then it won’t come true!”Marin responded with an impish jut of his tongue.Blake laughed in turn, covering up his slip of paper as well.
“Fine, then.”He grinned.“I can keep a secret, too.”
Once they were finished, they hung their wishes amongst the bamboo trees, careful to conceal them from one another, before heading into the East Mall in search of the gallery; a perusal of the area revealed that the windows of its shopfront were obscured with butcher paper.Behind the glass, Blake could hear people talking softly, preparing for the opening later that evening.Marin idled at the door, looking anxious.
“Would you like to knock?”Blake asked.“Your… well, Jessica is probably inside.”
“No.”Marin shook his head, taking a step back from the glass.“She’s probably busy… I don’t want to bother her.”
Blake reached out to take his hand, reassuring him: “You wouldn’t be a bother.”
Marin hung his head, his smile small and sad.“I’m nervous,” he admitted in a tiny voice.“I’m not ready yet.”
