by Eiko Kadono
Before long, the clockmaker climbed up the clock tower’s 2,358 stairs carrying his big tool bag. His family had cared for this clock for five generations. Thanks to their hard work, it had never stopped once. But now the clockmaker wondered whether he had made a mistake during the pre–New Year’s maintenance round last week. His heart began ticking as loudly as the clock did when it was in working order. Though pale in the face, he got straight to work on the repairs. He used a little mallet to tap on every screw and gear. Almost immediately, he was relieved. “Oh, I figured it out. The biggest gear is broken. This makes it an easy-peasy fix. We just need to swap out the gear. It’ll only take three minutes.”
“Really?” The mayor started stamping his feet—one, two, one, two—but then asked, “Will the time be adjusted as well?”
“Yes, once the new gear is in, it’ll be fixed in the blink of an eye.”
“And the bell will ring properly at midnight?”
“Of course.” The clockmaker was bursting with confidence, his earlier worries gone. Humming a little tune, he looked into his bag—at which point his face went pale again, and his hands began to shake. “B-but…I don’t have a spare…g-gear….”
“Wh-what? Then hurry up and go get one!” The mayor went pale, too, and his voice quavered.
“B-but…I don’t have one at the shop, either. I—I’d have to order it.”
“Then h-hurry! Do it!”
“B-but…it takes fifty-three d-days.”
The mayor staggered backward. He groaned painfully before finally speaking. “There’s nowhere you can get one?”
“I—I heard that the town across three mountains to the west has a clock with the same type of gear. So if we borrowed that gear—”
“Borrowed?”
“Yes, you know, without telling anyone—”
“You mean we’d steal it?”
“Yes, but…”
“But what?”
“But we don’t have a thief.”
“What are you talking about? You’ll do it!”
“What? Ah, a-all right. B-but the time…Well, maybe if I go in a police car with the siren on I’ll make it—”
“You idiot. Are you really going to go steal something in a police car? Isn’t there some other way?”
“Uhh, hmm, well, oh, yes! There is, there is! That service in this town everyone likes so much….”
* * *
Ring-a-ling-a-ling, ring-a-ling-a-ling!
The phone in Kiki’s shop sounded, interrupting her preparation for the race. When she picked up, she did a little bow and said, “Listen, can you hear it?”
The voice on the other end was shrill in her ears. “I’m not worried about listening or hearing right now! This is the mayor. I’m told you deliver things, but I wonder if you can pick things up as well?”
“There’s no need to snap. My business is deliveries, so if I can take something from here to there, I can certainly bring something from there to here,” Kiki replied in annoyance.
This time, the mayor spoke a bit more politely. “Oh? That’ll be a big help. In that case, would you come as fast as you can to the top of the clock tower?”
Kiki grabbed Jiji and flew into the sky, grumbling. This was the one night she didn’t want to be flying. She wanted to run on the ground with everyone else. When she looked below, masses of people were already waiting outside town hall for the clock to strike midnight.
“To leap straight into business,” the mayor said hurriedly the moment she arrived, “the biggest gear in this clock is broken. Do you think you could go to the town across three mountains to the west and—and, well, swipe one? As soon as possible, if you please?”
“Swipe?” Kiki’s eyes grew wide.
The mayor slumped his shoulders and said in a low voice, “In other words, I mean, to just borrow their gear in secret for a little while so the bell can ring at midnight—”
“You mean steal it?”
“Shhh, that’s not a very nice way to put it. We only want to borrow it. We’ll give it back after.”
“If that’s all, then couldn’t we just ring the bell? The clock is so high up no one can see it very well, anyhow.”
But the clockmaker replied regretfully, “It was made so the bell won’t ring unless the hands move to the twelve o’clock position, as troublesome as that is.”
“Then what if you just clapped your hands to announce the midnight hour, Mayor?”
“That’s no good.” He shook his head firmly. “We can’t simply change such a long-standing tradition. If we do that, who knows what could happen! People might twist their ankles or break out in hives! I’m begging—won’t you please go? We’re running out of time,” the mayor said, his face blushing red and going pale in turn. Then he furrowed his eyebrows and practically sobbed as he looked at Kiki.
This guy…, thought Kiki, pursing her lips. The next moment, she flew off without a word.
When Kiki flew west of Koriko and over the three mountains in a neat row, she found a town whose lights looked like a diamond necklace laid along the valley.
“Hey, Kiki, are you sure this is a good idea?” Jiji asked, clinging to her back. “We’re not going to get caught?”
“We don’t know unless we try. Maybe if we explain the situation, they’ll actually let us borrow it for a little while,” Kiki replied, mostly to convince herself.
The town was tiny, so she spotted the clock tower right away. She landed on the top and crouched to avoid being spotted. Looking down, she was surprised to see a group of people waiting in the square below, just like in Koriko. On top of that, they all seemed to be watching the clock. Kiki quietly made her way down the roof and landed on the ground. The people were chatting excitedly, but while they did, they all stretched and bent the fingers of their right hand.
In this town, do they exercise their fingers instead of their legs?
Just then an older man next to her smiled and said in a singsong voice, “At midnight—don’t forget!”
It sounded just like Koriko’s New Year greeting, Listen, can you hear it?
“What is everyone gathered here for?” Kiki asked.
“What? You don’t know? At midnight, we pinkie-promise to have a good new year. That’s been the tradition in this town for ages.” He held up his pinkie finger with a smile. “Get ready. It’s almost time. And, oh, I see you’re carrying a broom. Still working on your New Year cleaning? Better hurry!” he said, playfully pushing her shoulder.
Stumbling slightly, Kiki made her way through the crowd and told Jiji, “Let’s go back.”
“What about the gear?” Jiji looked up at her, anxious.
“Never mind that. Let’s just go,” she said bluntly.
“But we were only going to borrow it for a little while. You’re not going to ask?”
“No, how could I?” Kiki said sadly. “If I borrowed the gear, this clock wouldn’t strike twelve. Then the people of this town wouldn’t be able to make their pinkie promises. What if everyone ends up fighting for the rest of the year because of me?”
“But Koriko is in trouble, too. What’ll we do?”
“I’ll try to think of something.” Kiki took off from the shadows and zoomed into the sky.
When she returned to the clock tower in Koriko, the mayor and the clockmaker practically pounced on her.
“How’d it go?”
“Hurry, the gear!”
Kiki showed her empty hands. “I don’t have it, but don’t worry. I’ll make it happen. You two go wait down below.”
“But…” The pair just looked at her and didn’t budge.
“I’m telling you, it’ll be all right. I’m a witch. I can handle it,” Kiki declared. After herding the men toward the stairs, she spread her arms and took a deep breath.
; “Okay, Jiji,” she said. “Help me out. Hold on tight and push me with all your strength.” With that, she mounted her broom and flew off at a tremendous speed.
Kiki went to the edge of town, spun back around, and went hurtling toward the face of the clock, accelerating even more. Then, just as she was about to crash, she grabbed the big hand with both of hers and used her momentum to push it toward the top of the face. And in the blink of an eye, her one push made one hour and twenty-four minutes go by. The two hands met beautifully at twelve.
Bong, bong, bong…
The bell echoed throughout Koriko, and a cheer exploded from the front of the town hall. Then feet could be heard pounding the street as the race began.
Meanwhile, having let go of the clock’s hand, Kiki was flung all the way to the outskirts of town. When she finally coaxed her broom to a stop and returned to the clock tower, she plunked down, exhausted. Her hair stood on end, and the contents of her brain felt as though they had shifted to one side. When she shook her head and looked below, everyone was running in good spirits. The people whirled and eddied, and it almost seemed as though the street was moving. At the front of the pack, sticking out with his extra springy gait, was the mayor.
“That was wild. I thought my tail was going to come off,” said Jiji, stretching flat as a pressed flower.
“I thought my eyes and mouth would fly off and I’d end up a faceless monster!” With a sigh of relief, Kiki looked at her watch. Oops—it was still five minutes before twelve!
“Ha, ha, ha!” She cracked up and bent over with laughter. “I guess we were a tad too good at our job. But at least we weren’t late, so it’s fine, right?”
“How sneaky of you,” Jiji said. He was looking around, upset, when suddenly he yelped, “Agh! It’s gone! My belly band’s missing!”
“It must have blown away. Well, if that’s the worst thing that happens tonight, I think that’s all right—isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. I was taking good care of that thing. Without it, I go back to being a normal old black cat. Instead of give-and-take, all I’m getting for my hard work in this town is a huge loss.”
Kiki consoled him. “But we delivered the new year. How many delivery services have done that? Only we could pull off something that spectacular. You think any old black cat could do it? C’mon! Cheer up, and let’s run with everyone. We’ll have to cheat a little, but we’ll fly to catch up to Osono and her family and run with them. We’ll have to look for Tombo and Mimi, too. Hurry, let’s go!” She scooped Jiji up, and they took off on her broom.
* * *
After the new year started, strangers would see Kiki in the street and say Nice work. She assumed everyone was simply in a better mood since it was the beginning of the year, but one day Osono explained it to her.
“The clockmaker has been going around spreading the word about you—saying things like ‘Kiki fixed the clock and made sure it struck at twelve,’ and ‘It’s pretty handy to have a witch who can use magic like that in our town.’ I’m proud, too, because I’ve thought that all along.”
It was still cold every day.
Jiji was curled up on a chair complaining. “What a long winter. If it gets any colder, I think I’m going to quit being a cat. I can’t take it.”
“What would you be instead? You have such a nice fur coat.” Kiki patted his back. “You keep saying you’re cold, but the sound of the wind is already different. It sounds like spring now, I’m sure of it. Yes, spring—I’ll be able to see Mom soon. But those who complain too much can’t hear nice noises like that.”
Jiji pouted and hid his face between his front paws. But his cute black ears stuck straight up and twitched slightly.
* * *
Ring-a-ling-a-ling, ring-a-ling-a-ling, the phone rang. The moment Kiki picked up, a flustered voice came over the line.
“Umm, he-hello? Please hurry! Hurry! Come to the station, please—Koriko Central Station!” Abruptly, the call ended.
“Why is every job that comes my way such a crisis?” Kiki said.
When she arrived in the sky over the station, the stationmaster waved her down, shouting, “Here, over here! Hurry!” Next to him were eight men, thin like withered trees, in matching black outfits. When she landed her broom in front of them, they weren’t surprised in the slightest. They simply continued glaring at the stationmaster with frightening looks on their faces.
“These gentlemen are musicians, and—” the stationmaster started to explain, but a man with flashing eyes cut him off.
“Professional musicians.”
“Oh, right. These esteemed professionals will be performing this afternoon at the outdoor auditorium—”
“But it’s so cold!” Kiki exclaimed. “Outdoor means outside, right?”
The man cleared his throat—“Ahem”—and puffed out his chest. “That’s the whole point, because our music will warm your heart. It’s called ‘A Concert to Beckon Spring.’ Well, it will depend on whether the ears of the people in your town are any good. But we’re worried because we’re missing something important.”
“Y-yes, that’s right. Miss, the thing is, the porters forgot to take their precious instruments off the train. It’s quite a pickle.”
The stationmaster removed his hat and used it to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
Nearby, Kiki noticed two young men, who must have been the porters, hanging their heads.
“Oh no!” She hopped up and down to look in the direction the train must have disappeared in.
“Yes, exactly. The train left with their instruments on board.”
“Then please hurry and phone the next station. I’ll go pick them up.”
“The thing is, that train is an express, and after leaving here, it doesn’t stop until the end of the line,” the stationmaster said, even more upset.
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“Would it be impossible for you to take them from a window of the moving train? It’s the car at the very end.”
“Oh, there’s no chance of that!” Kiki said, a little louder than she meant to.
“But it’s been done before. One time, someone crept in through a window and stole a bundle of money.”
“Well, isn’t that awful! Why not borrow some instruments instead? We must have some in town.”
“I thought of that, but—” The stationmaster looked at the men.
“That’s unacceptable!” one of them yelled. “The mere idea is outrageous. We’re not just any professional musicians. We can’t make do with just any instruments. How could we perform with the kind of crude instruments that play if even a breeze so much as blows?”
The other seven men scowled even harder with their narrowed eyes and nodded in agreement.
“They have eyes as icy as the north wind, but they say they’re going to give a concert to beckon spring?” Kiki grumbled under her breath. “I’m not sure I like these guys.”
“I feel bad for the north wind,” Jiji murmured into her ear in a similar spirit.
“It’s your fault for not removing them in the first place,” one skinny man said. “We wrote ‘To Koriko Station’ on them clearly, so it wasn’t our mistake. All the blame lies squarely on you, Mr. Stationmaster.”
The stationmaster looked at Kiki as if she were his only hope. The porters were also watching her with desperation. She spread her arms and shrugged. If someone was counting on her, she couldn’t say no.
“I don’t know if I can do it or not, but I’ll at least try catching up to the train.”
“Hurry!” the man ordered her. “There’s no time. We’ll be waiting at the outdoor auditorium. Bring them by three o’clock. Got that?”
Kiki purposely flew off without a reply.
* * *
After quickly ascending, Kiki flew along the tracks. For a while,
she soared through the northern part of town, but after she passed the fields and forests, the scenery became mountain after mountain and tunnel after tunnel.
“Hey, can you really pull off a stunt like this?” Jiji sounded concerned.
“Don’t worry. Those guys were so arrogant, I just wanted to make them sweat.”
“But we’re talking about boarding a moving train!”
“It’s okay. You’re with me, Jiji. We’ll figure it out.”
“Huh?” Jiji shouted.
“Oh, there it is!” Kiki lifted herself off the broom for a moment and yelped. Ahead, the last car of the train slipped into a tunnel, like the tail of a lizard. “I’ve got this!” she shouted, and zoomed over the mountain to the tunnel’s exit. “Jiji, he said it’s the last car. So I’ll land on the roof, and then you go in through an open window and unlock the back door for me.”
Soon the train appeared with a choo-choo. Kiki angled her broom and prepared to descend.
“You’re landing on that tiny spot?” Jiji sounded like he was going to cry.
Kiki didn’t need him to tell her how tricky this would be; as she tried to aim for it, the train’s roof looked like a flying leaf.
Agh, I’m a witch, and I don’t even have a spell to make this train stop!
“There’s no other way!” Kiki shook the jittery thoughts out of her head and began her descent. Wind whooshed past her ears, and both her hair and Jiji’s tail stood straight up as if the sky were tugging at them.
“Ah! We’re going to crash!” Jiji shrieked, but that was the moment Kiki went gliding down, body and broom, and clung to the roof. The train continued running as if nothing had happened. Kiki scooted along bit by bit, hanging on to the roof of the swaying car, and peered into a cracked window.