Chapter 12: 11.i The Peach Festival

~ Ham Song ~

“Before we start discussing things, I need to know,” Ham Song anchored his hooves on the table and leaned forward, “are you a man or woman?”

The monk scrutinized the pig for a moment. Ritsu munched on his pork bun, glancing curiously back and forth between the two. 

With a wry smile, the monk said, “That depends. Are you really a pig?”

Ham Song’s throat immediately clamped up. He fought to find a way to answer the question without really answering it, but it only made each one of his respiratory muscles constrict more. 

Amused, the monk chuckled, “I’m waiting.”

Ritsu took a curious bite out of his pork bun while Ham Song continued to gag on his own cursed tongue. A few agonizing seconds slipped by before the monkey looked around the depot and then back at Ham Song. He swallowed his food and cleared his throat. “Uh, Ham Song? Could you keep it down? I think you’re making a scene.”

Ham Song strained to glare at him. Damn this miserable bi-ped!

The monk took his/her time folding his/her hands over the table. Finally, as if releasing Ham Song from his temporary torture, he/she said, “I will say this once. And afterwards, if either of you question my biological nature again, I will drop-kick your asses so conclusively, that you will wake up in the Lake of Ninefold Darkness. Do I make myself clear?”

Together Ham Song and Ritsu vigorously nodded their heads in understanding. Now that Ham Song was free of having to come up with a response to the monk’s first question, the curse ebbed and his throat relaxed. He took in a grateful inhale.

The monk said, “I am they. Depending on a variety of factors of which I have almost no control, you might look at me and be inclined to call me she or he. You may not know the difference. With that being said, no matter what you feel when you look upon me, I am and will forever be they. Now, let’s move on to more important things.”

Ham Song didn’t really feel like the monk had properly answered his question, but he kept his confusion to himself. If the monk wished to be confounding and alien, who was he to say otherwise?

They stabbed the air with their chopsticks. “Since it goes against my moral code, I don’t carry around money any longer than I need to. Therefore, I’m completely broke.” 

Ritsu cocked his head to the side. “Wouldn’t eating meat go against your moral code though?”

Under normal circumstances, Ham Song would have chimed in, but he feared the consequences of angering the monk. So he kept his snout shut for the time being. 

The monk pointed to Ritsu as if they hadn’t heard his question. “Like you told us earlier, Sun, you recently spent your last dime on a pork bun. So now you’re broke.” Then they aimed their chopsticks at Ham Song. “And you, pig.” 

Ham Song gulped. 

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“Judging by your lack of glamour and any other personal effects, I’m going to assume that you also are not currently holding onto any funds.”

Ham Song scraped his hoof against the surface of the table. “Listen here, monk! It’s not my fault I’ve been tied up in the pantry of a noodle house for the past month.”

The monk spared no sympathy for the hog. They chuckled, “Something tells me you’re lying about that too, pig.”

Ham Song gritted his teeth. “I told you already, monk. It’s Ham Song.”

“By the way,” Ritsu cut in, his natural speaking volume sounding like a whisper against Ham Song’s shrieking, “we never got your name.” He looked at the monk as he said it.

The monk rolled their eyes. “Why should I give you my name when it appears that we are of no use to each other in any capacity?”

Ritsu took another bite of his bun. “What do you mean?”

Once again, the monk gestured among the three of them. “You need a job. Ham Song here needs life insurance. And I,” they looked at the bottom of their empty styrofoam ramen container, “desperately need a drink.”

Ham Song’s ears perked at the monk’s respectful usage of his name. He said, “You’ve been unconscious for some time, monk, and you’ve missed a few things.”

They stopped gazing at the cup and arched a well groomed eyebrow. “Oh, have I, my dear Ham Song?”

The pig leaned forward. “Indeed. You see,” he gestured to Ritsu on his right, “this is no ordinary Sun. And I am no ordinary pig. I have Luck, understand? Luck like you would not believe.”

The monk relaxed their eyebrow and leaned back. “Go on.”

Hoping this would win them over, Ham Song said, “Come with us. My Luck may be low at the moment, but it’ll come back. I guarantee it. Help us make a little money and when it does, you can have as much of it as you want.”

The look on the monk’s face was one of keen interest. Were monks even capable of greed, Ham Song wondered. It went against his instincts to trust a drunkard claiming to be a student of enlightenment. And yet, here he was. All because the benevolent monkey spirit beside him proved time and time again to be lacking the basic foundation of a typical brain.  

Yes, it seemed that they were going to need all the help they could get.

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