Page 34 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

How, though? He didn’t have a phone—those required expensive dedicated hion lines and were beyond a mere nightmare painter’s wages. So to get information from the foreman, they’d have to find a public phone and wait in line, or—since the office was so close—simply walk over. Both would require them to leave the apartment, however.

Yumi was talking again. “To properly stack, one needs years of training.”

“And you just expected me to do it with none?”

“I…hoped you would have natural talent,” she admitted. “I was wrong, obviously. The only solution remaining is a difficult one. Wemustcontact the spirits, which means you’re going to have to learn. We’ll come up with some excuse to Liyun, then train you, like I was as a child. Until you’re good enough to draw spirits.”

Delightful. Training under her sounded about as much fun as a hornet-eating competition. And these spirits? Were they even real? Everyone on her world seemed to think so, and shehadshown him some kind of goblinlike statues underneath her wagon that made it float. Those came from somewhere.

Regardless, he had his own troubles. “I want to go talk to the foreman,” he said. “And check in. Make sure I still have a job…”

“No,” she said. “We’re going to stay in here and I’m going to start training you. Your education begins now.”

“My education? My training? To do what? Stack?” He sat up and waved his hand through the table. “Wow. That’s going to besoeffective, Yumi.”

“I can demonstrate,” she said. “Instruct.”

“No,” he said, standing. “This is my world. I should get to make the rules. There’s a dangerous nightmare out there, and I want to be certain it’s been dealt with. Foreman doesn’t always…think the most highly of me—”

“I wonder why.”

“Yumi,” he said. “That nightmare is dangerous. It could be fully stable by now, and violently murderous! It could kill dozens or more if not stopped, and no regular painter is equipped to deal with one so strong. It requires talent beyond what someone like me has.

“We are going to go make sure the foreman understood my warning, then get him to check on a family I helped. Who knows—maybe thosespirits sentyoutome, not the other way around! Maybe they needyouto do something here! You ever consider that?”

She huffed, arms still folded, but then glanced away. “Fine,” she said softly. “But…I can’t go out like this. I look, and feel, grimy. I don’t think bathing when I’m a spirit cleans this body.”

“Well, we can fix that,” he said, walking across his living room to the small bathroom. He waved to it, and she sullenly stepped over and pulled open the door. He showed her the knobs on the shower, which she turned. Then she yelped, her eyes wide as the water sprayed down.

“You have a geyser,” she said. “But…the water seems cold?”

“It will warm,” he said. “Unless Mrs. Shinja used it all up again—avoid showering at nine in the morning, unless you like to freeze. Also, warning, she gets very possessive over the water. Be careful not to use too much yourself.”

“Shower,” she said softly, letting the water run over her hand.

“Soap here,” he said, pointing. “Shampoo and conditioner here. Clean towel there.” He nodded to her, then stepped toward the door.

“Wait,” Yumi said, then turned, looking at him.

“What?”

“I’m…supposed to do it myself?” she asked. “You don’t have any…attendants I can call?”

“Uh, no. Not a thing in my world.”

“Right,” she said, and appeared strangely daunted. How could you be intimidated by something likeshowering? He smiled, finding it cathartic to see her, the tyrant, suddenly terrified of something so trivial. It was like finding out that a fearsome tiger was scared of getting its nails done.

He shut the door, but then—because he couldn’t get too far from her—leaned against it. He did so absently, but then was shocked todiscover he didn’t fall straight through. Just like he didn’t fall through the floor. So…why did he sometimes pass through things, but not always?

(I could have explained. Unfortunately, at that moment I was being used to hold a large overstuffed coat, three bags, a puppy in a carrying case, andthreeboiled eggs. Don’t ask.)

The sound of the water grew louder in the bathroom, then the telltale noise of splashing followed as Yumi stepped in. A few moments later, Painter was pretty sure he heard her sigh in satisfaction.

“Nice, eh?” he said.

“It’s warm,” Yumi’s voice said, echoing in the small bathroom. “I’d begun to think you people had no idea what it was to feel properly warm.” She paused. “Um…what is shampoo?”

“For your hair,” he said. “Lather it up in your hair to clean it. Then use the conditioner to…uh… It’s good for the hair somehow. Trust me. It, um, moisturizes?”

---