Chapter 4: I Don't Drink... Anymore

Sumi shakes her head without a word.

Franklin's gaze shifted to Goh, who was hastily packing bags behind the tea shop's counter. The old man's movements were frantic but methodical, preparing for the journey ahead.

"Hey, is your daughter deaf? She hasn't spoken a word since—" Franklin began, his tone laced with concern, but he was abruptly cut off.

"Mute, sir... she's mute," Goh interjected sharply, the single word hitting the air with a mix of correction and protection.

Franklin looked towards Sumi, who averted her gaze, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment. The realization of his mistake weighed heavily on him, and he palmed his face, shaking his head in a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

"Oh, I didn't mean to..." he stammered, struggling to recover from the faux pas. Regaining some composure, he quickly changed the subject, "Hey, we should get going. It's only three days, no need to pack heavy. It'll take longer to travel if you—" His voice trailed off as a new scent caught his attention.

"Is that mint tea?" Franklin asked, sniffing the air curiously, the herbal aroma cutting through the momentary awkwardness.

"Yes, sir. Just brewing some before we head out. What type of tea do you like? It's on the house," Goh offered, eager to smooth over the earlier discomfort and extend a gesture of hospitality.

"Oh, I never liked tea. My wife did," Franklin replied, a hint of nostalgia softening his voice as he mentioned his late wife.

"Was mint her favorite?" Goh asked, catching onto the sentimental value of the beverage.

"Yes," Franklin answered simply, his mind momentarily wandering to memories of his wife, her preferences and habits a lingering presence in his heart.

Goh poured three cups of tea, handing two to Sumi, who carefully carried them over to Franklin, offering one with a shy but sincere gesture.

"That's a great choice. Did your wife have indigestion?" Goh asked, trying to make conversation but perhaps stepping into too personal territory once again.

"Excuse me?" Franklin's response was quick, a touch of defensiveness in his tone, taken aback by the personal nature of the question.

Realizing his misstep, Goh hurried to explain, "Oh, I apologize for the personal question. Mint is often used for soothing stomachs, and I thought maybe that was why your wife favored it," he clarified quickly, his voice a mixture of apology and explanation, hoping to convey his intentions were from a place of caring, not prying.

Goh's question lingered in the air, reflective of his genuine curiosity and his intent to connect with Franklin on a deeper level. "Your wife. Did she have trouble eating certain foods?" he asked, his voice low, his demeanor one of someone who's spent years learning to read the subtleties of human nature over a cup of tea.

"Yeah... she did actually... How did you know?" Franklin replied, his guard momentarily lowered, intrigued and slightly puzzled by Goh's perceptiveness.

Goh took a sip of his tea, mirroring his daughter who did the same, and then he responded with a warmth that filled the small space of the tea shop. "I opened this place up to open up to others. Getting to know people. That's my favorite part about sharing a drink with someone. What do you drink?" he asked, inviting Franklin into the fold of his small world.

"Beer," Franklin answered briefly, a hint of a smile touching the corners of his mouth at the memory of lighter times.

"I have some out back," Goh offered, eager to accommodate.

"I don't drink anymore," Franklin said, his tone final, as if closing a chapter of his life that no longer fit with the man he was trying to become.

Goh nodded in understanding and his eyes briefly flicked to the dog tags that peeked out from Franklin's shirt. Sensing the glance, Franklin quickly tucked them back in, a clear sign of his discomfort with the topic they represented.

"We should get going, hand me your bags, I'll carry them," Franklin said, rising to his feet and brushing off the lingering awkwardness.

As Franklin hefted a particularly heavy bag over his shoulder, he staggered slightly under its unexpected weight. "What do you have in this bag that's making it so heavy?" he asked, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of annoyance.

"Tea," Goh confessed, his cheeks coloring with a mix of embarrassment and apology.

Franklin rolled his eyes and, with a sigh, dropped the bag to the ground. He unzipped it and began to unpack the tea, his movements sharp with frustration. Sumi rushed to his side, placing her hands over his in a gentle plea. He paused, looking into her eyes, which were wide with concern and a silent plea to understand. 

Franklin gave a heavy sigh as he looked down at the overstuffed bag, then back up at Sumi who maintained a gentle hold on his hand. With her other hand, she swiftly pulled out some clothes and other miscellaneous supplies, redistributing the contents to make the load more manageable. After a quick reorganization, she zipped the bag back up.

"You guys really love your tea, huh?" Franklin asked, a half-smile playing on his lips as he adjusted to the quirky priorities of his new companions.

Sumi's smile broadened, and she nodded enthusiastically, her actions speaking volumes in the absence of her voice. With a resigned grunt, Franklin slung the bag over his shoulder again. It was still heavy, but he bore the weight with a newfound patience, stepping out the door into the fresh air.

Outside, the Guardian Angel leaned casually against the wall, unnoticed by Franklin until he spoke. "Awww, you're so sweet. Carrying their tea. Helping them go places. You know, I think you've really changed for the better. No need to end your life anymore, am I right?" the angel teased, a playful tone underpinning the words.

Startled, Franklin jumped, his surprise quickly morphing into annoyance as he recognized the voice. His expression soured, and in a moment of frustration, he dropped the bag onto the ground with a thud.

"Sir, there are fragile tea cups in the bag, if you wouldn't mind being gentle with it—" Goh started, his concern for the contents overshadowing the sudden tension.

Franklin, still glaring at the Guardian Angel, snapped, "Great, just when things are going well you decide to show up and make crude remarks."

Goh and Sumi exchanged confused glances, unsure of to whom Franklin was speaking.

"Sir, I didn't mean to—" Goh began again, trying to soothe the situation.

Cutting off Goh, the Guardian Angel chimed in with a lighthearted complaint, "Oh well, I just wanted to ask if I could take some much-needed time off. I've been talking to my angel friends and they don't have to do half as much as I do. You're a handful. Yesterday was enough guardian-ing for a year's worth."

Franklin's frustration boiled over as he confronted the sheer absurdity of his situation, his voice rising in incredulity. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. I'm about to traverse a war-torn country littered with soldiers who will hunt me down for being a deserter. What happened to our deal?"

Goh, ever the peacemaker, stepped forward, his voice steady and calming. "Sir, you don't have to feel that way. Our deal still stands. We'll lead you to her right now."

The Guardian Angel, leaning against nothing, shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not responsible for you dying to other causes. Just make sure you're not suicidal for a couple days, honor our deal okay?"

Unable to contain his anger, Franklin began pacing, his eyes darting around for something to vent his frustration on. His gaze landed on the heavy bag of tea. Goh's expression fell, and Sumi, sensing the impending outburst, covered her eyes. In a fit of rage, Franklin kicked the bag repeatedly, muttering curses under his breath.

"Oh, you make me so mad! You realize how—" He cut off mid-sentence, looking up to find that the angel had vanished. Silence fell over the scene, leaving him alone with his anger and the witnesses to his outburst. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he picked up the bag, now even heavier with the broken contents inside, and turned to Goh and Sumi who had huddled together, perhaps out of fear or discomfort.

"I uh... had to let off a little steam. Lead the way," he said, his voice softening, an attempt to bridge the chasm his anger had created.

Sumi took the initiative, pushing Goh's wheelchair down the street, with Franklin following behind. Every step he took, the broken pieces of the tea kettle within the bag clinked, a continuous reminder of his fit of rage. Each clink seemed to deepen Goh's frown—a nonverbal expression of disappointment and concern.

Franklin cast a look over his shoulder to where the angel had been, shaking his head as if to dispel the lingering frustration and confusion the celestial being had left in his wake.