by Jon McDonald
“They look like they’re going to be very hot today. I hope they have enough water,” Kazuko commented to her grand-nephew, Juro, about the horse dancers. She searched in her carrier for her water bottle and Haruki’s cap, and offered them to him. “Don’t get dehydrated,” she commanded, shaking the bottle at him. He took it without comment and took a deep swig. He refused the cap, however, waving it away.
Juro offered to buy them some ices, and ambled over towards the ice stall, having seen a very pretty young girl heading that way.
Haruki turned away slightly from Kazuko and tucked the white silk scarf tighter inside his kimono so that Kazuko would not see that he was wearing it today. Juro returned with three ices and the pretty young girl. He handed a mandarin orange ice to Kazuko, a watermelon ice to Haruki and shared a honeydew melon and lime ice with Choko, the young girl, who giggled when they both licked the ice at the same time.
Kazuko was enchanted with the dancing horses and threw the paper flowers that she had been making for weeks at them to show her appreciation. She bobbed in excitement as the parade of floats with ecstatic drummers thundered by.
Haruki glimpsed a tall, thin young man on the other side of the street. His handsome chiseled face flashed a smile and then he disappeared into the crowd. Haruki licked at the watermelon ice.
Haruki leaned back against Arashi’s naked chest. They were seated on the porch of Arashi’s family hunting lodge, high in the mountains. A waterfall and stream tumbled not more than twenty meters away. Both were naked and trying to cool themselves in this August heat by eating slices of iced watermelon that dribbled juice down their chests. They were playing a little game to see who could spit the watermelon seeds the farthest.
“Ah! The record so far,” Arashi crowed having ejected a seed a good three meters. The world record - or so he said. Haruki didn’t respond to the taunt and was very quiet. Arashi looked down at him. “You alright?” he asked, tilting Haruki’s head up so he could see his eyes.
“Oh yes,” Haruki replied looking up into Arashi’s face. “I just didn’t know.”
“What didn’t you know?”
“That I could be this happy.”
Arashi bent forward and leaned his chin on the top of Haruki’s head. “Yeah, I figured that.” He laughed, then thought for a moment and added, “Then why do you seem so sad?”
“Because I don’t know what happens next.”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know how to live this way. What do we do now? It’s very nice here – up in the mountains, far away, no people, just us - but what do we do when we get back? How can we be together – out there?” Haruki’s gesture embraced the whole world.
Arashi didn’t speak for a moment. He just nodded, thinking. “Yeah, I know. Not easy.”
“There’s no way for us to be alone at the barracks. And our families – I am to be married to a very sweet girl in the autumn. What about that?” Haruki was becoming agitated and he turned around to face Arashi. “And what you and your family? Don’t they want you to marry?”
“I’m not the eldest. And I have a lot of brothers and sisters. I could slip through the cracks without a lot of trouble.”
“But I’m an only child. You know what that means.”
“I do.”
“And the war? What if we get separated? I don’t know if I could bear that.”
Haruki became even more agitated and he threw his arms around Arashi and pulled him closely to him and started kissing him passionately. However, both being naked they soon became aroused and ended up making love on the porch covered in watermelon juice and other substances. When they were done they raced to the stream and threw themselves in the water like a couple of truant kids escaping school.
Juro closed the car doors after Kazuko and Haruki climbed out of their seats with a little effort. Juro supported Kazuko’s arm, and led her back to the house. He was a good kid – thoughtful and considerate. She patted his hand when he delivered her to the front door.
“Thank you my dear. It’s been a lovely outing.”
Choko was still in the front seat of the car, waiting for Juro to return so they could get back to his apartment for a little quality time alone.
Juro gave Kazuko a quick kiss on the top of her head and scurried back to his car without waving good-bye.
“Are you hungry?” Kazuko asked Haruki, who was standing at the windows looking out over the pond.
“Not yet,” he answered and slid open the door and walked out to inspect the garden, now in its full fruiting. He carried a basket and a pair of sheers, and gathered a few cucumbers, a handful of slender eggplants, and a dark purple and a yellow heirloom tomato. He put the basket on the porch and wandered down to the edge of the pond as the sun was just setting behind the trees on the far shore. The nail clipping of a new moon hung like a delicate smile just above the fading horizon.
Haruki pulled at the silk scarf still hidden by the folds of his kimono. He took it out, felt the silk against his cheek and then tied it around his neck as the landscape before him began to sink into darkness.
◘ ◘ ◘
The last golden leaf
Desperately clutches the mother branch.
But is no match for the icy wind.
The first frost had taken out the tomatoes, the basil and a few of the other less hardy garden plants. It always saddened Haruki to have to cut back the dead stalks. There was still some kale, brussel sprouts and cabbage that actually thrived in the colder weather. He cast a plastic sheet over a few of the other more tender plants that had been spared the first frost. It was going to be another freezing night tonight and he wanted to save as many plants as he could.
Kazuko had slipped getting out of the bathtub last week and was still in the hospital with a broken hip. He would be going there later, after lunch, to read to her for an hour or so. And it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to get around without his cane, even for a short period of time. He could not get out of any chair now without its assistance.
He put together a bouquet from the bed of chrysanthemums under the red maple tree by the front gate to take to Kazuko. He put them in a bucket of water by the back door and would tie them together with a nice ribbon from her sewing box just before he left for the hospital. Kazuko’s grand-niece, Emiko, was going to pick him up at two.
Haruki was not that hungry, but he sliced open a persimmon and squeezed a little lime juice on it. He went to his bedroom and sat at his desk to sort the mail and pay a few bills. He opened his desk drawer to take out the checkbook. Underneath was the letter. The only one he had ever received from Arashi. It had been a very long time since he last looked at it. He took it out of the envelope, opened it, and read.
Haruki, I know how you hate me for what I am about to do. But I have to do this for my country. Please forgive me. Know that I will be thinking of you when I strike. I will love you always. Arashi
Haruki bowed his head and let the letter fall onto his lap. He stared across the room to the small table with the faded photograph of Arashi hanging on the wall above. He pulled himself out of his chair, the letter falling to the floor, and hobbled over to the table. He took some incense out of the table drawer and lit it. The smoke rose up around his head, and languidly curled over towards the photo, wafting like a curtain, caressed by a surprisingly warm autumn afternoon breeze.
“How can you ever make me understand?” Haruki asked, tears streaming down his face. Smoke from a thousand sticks of incense filled the temple. Arashi turned from him and walked towards the entrance, his back to the golden reclining Buddha. Haruki raced after him and caught him by the shoulder, turning him sharply around, and taking Arashi’s white silk scarf in both of his hands - fighting a strong temptation to strangle him with it.
Arashi slapped Haruki in the face. “Get a hold on yourself. You’re making a scene. Is this how you want to remember our last day together?”
Haruki was so startled he let go of the sc
arf. Arashi turned and walked down the temple steps to the street. Haruki raced after. Arashi wouldn’t speak to him again till they were back in the hotel room, and then he turned to Haruki, took off his scarf, put it around Haruki’s neck and took him tightly in his arms, unable to speak and unable to let him go.
Haruki carefully picked up the letter from the floor and inserted it back into its envelope. He put it back in the drawer and closed it. He sat back in the desk chair and stared out across the pond. An apple fell from a tree down by the pond, rolled down the bank, and splashed into the still water by the dock. A goose swimming nearby scurried over, snapped it up, and downed it with one quick swallow.
It was a quarter till two. Haruki got out of his chair, went to Kazuko’s sewing box, took out a ribbon and went to the back door. He wrapped the ribbon around the mums, and went back inside to get his coat and hat. He locked up the house and stood by the front gate waiting for Kazuko’s grand-niece to pick him up and take him to the hospital. The leaves from the red maple fell in his hair and across the shoulders of his black coat.
The incense under Arashi’s photograph burned out, and sighed up the last little breath of smoke before going cold. Across the pond a bullfrog leapt off a lily pad to grab a low flying dragon fly, splashing gleefully into the water and sending a spray into the air. The splash was caught by the sun, which shot a ray of light across the pond into Haruki’s room, lighting up Arashi’s Kamikaze headband with the rising sun in the middle of his forehead.
Madam Macadam
Seth’s ma, Sally, was wondering what to do about her son’s sexual education. Here she had a sprightly boy, just sixteen, and already the man of the house - her husband lost at Vicksburg years ago. Her great aunt had left Sally a parcel of land and a cabin in Colorado not far from the mining towns. With no husband, one boy child, and no other prospects they had headed west from Kentucky where they had been staying with her parents during the war. Her Daddy had resisted her leaving, but she was resolute, and catching a train to Missouri they headed west along the Santa Fe Trail till they branched off towards Henderson with their newly purchased wagon, supplies, a cow, and a mule. Seth was only six-years-old at the time and not worth nothin’ when it came to working the land. But her great aunt had also left Sally a small inheritance which she used to hire a hand for plowing, and they had eked out a living till Seth grew and was able to contribute more to running of the farm. By then they had sheep, cattle and chickens as well as crops, and Seth grew big and strong and handsome, and was such a blessing to his Ma.
Sally knew it was a “man’s” job to educate a son in matters of the heart, but she had no one to turn to. She couldn’t ask the Reverend Kincaid. He would “tut tut” and pretend he didn’t hear her. No, she needed another source. The only one she felt safe turning to about this was Mr. Calder, the grocer.
She made a special effort to look nice when she went into his grocery store for her weekly shopping. She had sent Seth off to the livery stable to see if the harness they had ordered had come in yet. She obviously couldn’t have Seth around when she made her enquiry of Mr. Calder.
“Now then, will that be all, Mrs. Sherwin?” Calder asked, as he put the last items in Sally’s basket.
Sally hesitated, but finally leaned in and whispered, “Might I have a private word with you, Mr. Calder?”
“If it’s about your bill, you needn’t worry. Your credit is always good with me.”
“No sir,” she answered, “it’s about another, more personal matter, concerning my son.”
“I see. Of course, how can I help you?” he asked, shunting down the counter towards the back of the store where they could speak more privately.
“Well, this is really embarrassing, but you see Seth is sixteen now….and he’s…well, you know, almost a grown man. And as there’s no man in the house I feel it’s time for him to know a few things…. You understand?” She hoped Mr. Calder would get her inference.
“I see,” he said, stroking his chin and feeling very nervous. “You need someone to discuss the facts of life with the lad. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes, sir. That’s it exactly. And I was wondering if you might….” Mr. Calder looked startled. “Well you, or somebody you could refer me to. The Reverend Kincaid would be more than useless.”
Mr. Calder laughed. “Well, you certainly are right on that point, Mrs. Sherwin. Poor old dear would turn twenty shades of purple and red and have an attack of apoplexy. Sure as we both are standin’ right here.” They laughed.
Sally looked up pleadingly to the grocer. “Can you suggest anyone? I would be ever so grateful.”
Calder pondered for a moment, then suggested, “Well, there is one person I could think of, but it’s not a man. In fact it’s someone who could both instruct your son and also provide him with a very necessary service.”
Sally was puzzled. “What kind of service?”
“Well, let’s just say she could provide a comprehensive introduction to the mysteries of love and romance,” Calder hedged.
Sally was shocked. “You mean….?”
Calder nodded. “I do.”
“Oh, well. I don’t know…. That seems a bit unorthodox. I’m not sure we should go that far.”
“Well, you think about it. If you decide you would like to proceed just let me know and I will make the arrangements.”
“What is this person’s name, might I ask?”
“Madam Macadam - she runs an establishment over on the west edge of town. It is popularly frequented by some of the most upstanding members of our community and the very best of your traveling gentry.”
“I see. Well thank you, I shall consider your suggestion and get back to you. My, I never expected such a solution to my predicament.”
◘ ◘ ◘
Seth already knew all about reproduction. Hell, he’d been raising and breeding farm animals since he was ten. Now his ma was getting all up in his face about something she wanted him to do, but she would never really come out and honestly talk about it. He had a suspicion that she wanted to introduce him to some female or other. But she was just too embarrassed to proceed.
Seth was tall and strong. He kept his blond hair cut short and wore a straw hat he’d picked up in the feed store. He didn’t much mind how he dressed, as he always had a ton of chores and had to dress ready to work at all times. Only time he changed into his one nice shirt and put on a coat was for church at his mother’s insistence.
He couldn’t remember when he first started waking up in the morning with what he called his stiffy. It didn’t take him long, though, to figure out how to work on that. Oh man, he sure enjoyed rubbin’ one out. At first it was purely physical – just a way of releasing the tension. But then he began to visualize himself touching the Carter boy’s chest, or he’d find himself getting a stiffy when he was at the stables in town buying grain, and he’d see Cal Tolliver leaning over to pick up sacks to load onto the wagon. Heavens, that kid had a nice behind. When he did that in those tight pants of his, it drove poor Seth to distraction. One time Cal turned around quickly with two sacks in his arms for loading on the wagon. Cal caught Seth staring at him intently and smiled. Seth blushed and quickly shook out the mule’s reins, and headed towards home before the wagon was even fully loaded. That night when he worked his stiffy all Seth could see was Cal’s tight pants, and all he could think about was what it would be like to kiss that handsome smiling face – and those inviting lips.
That can’t be right, Seth pondered as he pitched feed to the cattle. He never saw two male animals goin’ at it. Well, except for the two rams. Oh yeah, he’d forgotten about them. He finally had to keep the rams separated. But he also knew all the young fellas in town were always moonin’ over some filly. And the girls were sighin’ and flutterin’ their eyes over some buck. Sure didn’t do nothing’ for him though. That Callie Jameson was always comin’ over to him in the grocers and pullin’ at his sleeve and leanin’ up against him when he was tryin�
� to concentrate on his mother’s shoppin’ list. She’d flutter her hands and all but bark in her efforts to get his attention. He couldn’t get outta there fast enough when she was around.
◘ ◘ ◘
Sally had thought long and hard about Mr. Calder’s suggestion. It went against all her church goin’ upbrigin’ to agree, but ultimately she felt she had no choice. Mr. Calder set a date for Sally to take Seth to Madam Macadam’s establishment on a Thursday night. That night was chosen as it would be less busy than the weekend, and Seth could be given more exacting, personal attention.
Seth sat working on his math figures at the table by the kerosene lamp. His ma gave him most of his learning, as he was needed on the farm, and couldn’t take time off to go into town for ordinary schoolin’. Seth looked up and saw his ma standing before him, silent, and with her hands nervously working her handkerchief. This, he knew, meant she had concerns. “Ma? You want sumpin’”
“Oh yes, Seth.” She hurriedly pulled up a chair and sat opposite him at the table.
“Oka-a-y…what?”
“We’re gonna be goin’ into town Thursday night.”
“Some church thing?”
“No dear, it’s sumpin’ for you.”
“What kind of sumpin’?”
Sally was working the handkerchief real hard now. “You ain’t got no pa, and it just seems time for you to get some instruction on matters that a ma just can’t broach to a son.” She leaned forward. “You understand?”
He did. Then he thought through the implications of this. It was pretty clear in his own mind that he was like the two rams, but he also knew that there seemed to be no place for him in this world if he was like that. He concluded it might be all right if someone knowledgeable about these matters could advise him. He sure couldn’t talk about these things to his ma.
“Where we goin’ then?”
“A place called Madam Macadam’s. You ever hear of it?” Seth nodded. “You ever been there?”
