“That would be awkward. And besides, I want to remember this.”
They finished tossing in the last few donuts, stood up and brushed off the crumbs and frosting.
“Plum-colored,” Lan said softly.
“What?”
“Our true forms,” Lan said. “We are plum-colored.”
“Plum-colored?”
“Yes. And our hair can be any color from orange to green. Though some of us have blue—mostly from the southern quadrant. My original hair is green.”
“I … see.”
“And we have two elbow joints. They would be here … and here.”
“What about your knees?”
“They are the same. Our patellar ligaments are more robust, however. Actually, all our ligaments are.”
“I see. And what else?”
“What else? You’re not horrified?”
Shizuka tried not to smile. “I’ll manage.”
“Yours must be a very open-minded species,” Lan said admiringly.
Whatever Shizuka intended to say next would have to wait.
A girl was running to them in tears.
Eventually, Shizuka and Lan pieced together what happened.
“We should call your authorities?” Lan asked.
Shizuka shook her head. The police would only make this worse. “But we need to visit that pawnshop.”
Lan nodded. She pulled out her phone to message Shirley that she’d be late.
Shizuka turned to the girl.
“What’s your name?”
“K-Katrina Nguyen.”
“Okay, Katrina Nguyen, let’s get your violin.”
* * *
Pawnshops and musicians have a long history. Within so many pawnshops lay dreams lost, broken, never realized. Usually, a musician of Shizuka’s stature would have nothing to do with these places.
But Shizuka had never been overly concerned with the usual.
As Shizuka pulled up to the shop, Katrina pointed at the front window.
“That’s mine!” she cried. “Please get it back. I don’t have the money, but I’ll pay you back a little at a time, I swear…”
“Don’t worry,” Shizuka said. “Everything will be fine.”
No doubt, that was the same violin Shizuka had seen that day in El Molino Park. But while that instrument had been in perfect condition, this one had its E and A strings missing, as well as its tuning peg.
And the price tag read $450.
Katrina rushed to the owner and pointed to the window.
“That violin was stolen!”
“That’s what they all say,” the man behind the counter said, not looking up from his computer. “It’s a bit loved, but it’s a good violin. Four hundred fifty dollars.”
Before Katrina could reply, Lan cleared her throat.
“It’s damaged. Lower the price,” Lan said commandingly.
Shizuka was startled—so that was what a starship captain sounded like.
The owner blinked. “Maybe I can do four twenty-five, but that’s it. I believe the instrument was made in Germany.”
“You believe wrong,” Lan said. “Two hundred. Cash. It costs me at least two hundred to repair, and it’s still fair profit for you.”
“Three hundred.”
“Two hundred dollars. And a good Yelp review.”
She did not have to add that she could also write a bad one.
“Make it a good review,” he finally said.
Lan reached for her purse, but Shizuka held her arm and put her finger to her lips.
“I don’t think you understood what this girl said,” Shizuka said innocently. “This violin was stolen.”
“Of course she did. People say that all the—” The pawnshop owner looked at Shizuka and stopped cold.
Now it was Lan’s turn to be startled—the pawnshop owner was terrified.
“Surely, you’re not implying that she would lie to you?” Shizuka said sweetly.
“Uh, of course not.”
“The girl should have her violin back.”
“Y-yes, of course,” he stammered.
“And her case.”
“Yeah, sure. Case too.”
Katrina and Lan watched wordlessly as Shizuka inspected the violin.
“A peg is missing. Strings are missing. The bridge … what happened? Was it you?” Shizuka glared at the owner. “I can find out, you know.”
“No! I didn’t do anything! I swear it was like that when I got it!” He was in near hysterics. He pulled out a roll of cash and peeled off some bills. “This should pay for the damages. Please. J-just take it.”