Cricket turned to the crowd, and started saying some things that I’m sure neither Lin nor I understood – we were both under the haze of anxiety.

Lin took out an electric organizer (in the shape of a spoon, what else?) and started typing kanji into it.

“Hey!” I shouted across the table, waving my paddle furiously. “Put that down!”

If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under when she glared at me.

I instantly knew she was very, very mad. The last thing I (and Lin) wanted to do, was sit here and play in front of a crowd – which could turn into a mob, if Cricket was leading them…

Suddenly, spotlights (spotlights?!) illuminated the table between us, and Cricket walked forward as the crowd hushed.

He smiled crookedly at both of us, and put his hand deep into one of his cavernous pockets.

We both inched back, not knowing what to expect.

Then, Cricket’s hand moved out, and on the table he placed the queerest ball I have ever seen.