The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 19

- The Mystery Of Cash Castle: Prologue
- The Mystery Of Cash Castle: Part 1
- The Mystery Of Cash Castle: Part 2
- The Mystery Of Cash Castle: Part 3
- The Mystery Of Cash Castle: Part 4
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 5
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 6
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 7
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 8
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 9
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 10
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 11
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 12
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 13
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 14
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 15
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 16
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 17
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 18
- The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 19
I was six when my mother took me to London, England. Mom had to attend a summit, so she left me with her friend, Mr. Cash. Mr. Cash was tall and wore an orange ascot. He didn’t want me locked up in our hotel room and decided we would explore London. Mr. Cash always asked what I fancied, which was odd. No other babysitter inquired about how I felt about things. I pointed to the London Eye, as I hoped to ride on it. While riding up, my face was glued to the window, amazed to see people appearing like ants down below. I looked to the other side and saw Mr. Cash doing the same thing! We both laughed at the funny faces we made.
After we got off the Eye for a lunch of bangers and mash, Mr. Cash took me to a toy store. He said I could pick out anything I wanted. My choice was a ballerina rabbit, and he chose a deck of cards. We had afternoon tea at the hotel’s café. I giggled at the clotted cream on Mr. Cash’s mustache, and he laughed too.
“Hikari, did you enjoy your tea?” He asked.
“Yep, it was super sweet.” I said. “Grandpa’s is bitter.”
“You don’t like his?”
“No, I do. But the kind we drink is different. It’s a green powder called matcha. Have you heard of it?”
“I have. Isn’t that the kind the Japanese use for tea ceremonies?”
“It is. My grandparents own a ceremonial shop in Osaka. It’s called ‘Kaze Chaya’ or Wind Teahouse.”
“Is it a nice place?”
“Of course it is. We wear traditional clothes and eat Odango dumplings. There’s one thing I dislike about it.”
“What is that, Hikari?”
“We must kneel all the time, and I get pins and needles.”
“Oh, it can’t be that bad,” he teased.
I pouted, “It is Mr. Cash. I’ll prove it to you by teaching you to sit like that.”
“If you say so. Let’s make a game out of it! We’ll play Go Fish with my new card deck. If you win, I’ll be your sitting student.”
“Bring it on.”
As he shuffled the deck, Mr. Cash had a twinkle in his eye.
“I’ve got another idea. Instead of collecting numbers, we collect the suits on the cards. Does that sound good?” He asked.
“Sure.”
“Good. We’ll pick out one symbol for each of us. My choice will be clubs. What’s yours?”
“I like diamonds.”
“It’s settled then. Time to play.”
We played for ten minutes, and to my dismay, Mr. Cash had three of the same suits, with only two for me. Another club would end the game. A tear ran down my cheek.
“Hikari, are you good to continue?” Mr. Cash asked kindly.
I brushed my face with a napkin. “Yes, let’s go on. I may lose, but it’d be worse to run away. You’ve been so nice to me all day. You’re a cool old guy. I aim to teach you about the Japanese tea ceremony, to kneel, and about my culture. Even if I don’t win, we can play again. I hope to spend more time with you! Now, do you have any diamonds?”
Mr. Cash revealed two of them in his hand.
We spent the rest of the afternoon practicing kneeling. Mr. Cash needed help from me and a hotel maid to pull him off the floor. That evening, my mother returned and thanked him for babysitting me.
“Your daughter is fun and strong, like a diamond.” He smiled at me and walked back to his room. From that day on, we’ve been good friends. He kept his word and visited my hometown for several years. But it was on this night, I hoped to see him again.
Editor: Lucy Cafiero