The Compass

by Deborah Radwan

  Frederick interrupted his thoughts, continuing. “I suppose my daddy’s death was just one example of the injustice those three men were fighting against. I see my daddy as being part of the struggle and coming out the victor, not that rich, white mill owner. During that time, listening to Dr. King and his message, I came to a reconcilement of what happened; not approval, not acquiescence, not apathy, mind you—never those things. Oh, I can tell you that at one time or another I did feel hatred, wanted to take revenge, considered violence, and had such deep sorrow, but I wanted desperately to be better than those men that killed my daddy. I did not want to become one of them. I wanted to be an instrument for good. God knows I’d seen enough evil in this world. So I prayed and prayed, and He heard me. At some point, a deeper understanding of humanity’s weaknesses and fears took hold, and I was able to turn that energy into something positive. I wanted to make a difference in the next generations’ lives through teaching, and I hope I influenced the young people in my classes. I did my best.”

  With that, everyone was silent. Rudy sat there a bit uneasy, processing everything he had heard. Jacob seemed uncomfortable too, but Yoshito had that peaceful look of understanding written across his face.

  After a time, Rudy asked, “What happened to your wife?”

  “Ah, my dear Estelle. You think this garden is beautiful? Estelle would have put those roses over there to shame. She was the light of my life. We were married for thirty-three years. She died six years ago. She was a good woman; kept me sane and positive when I was down, encouraged me to work in the garden, and didn’t think I was crazy when I told her I heard my ancestors singing. Well, maybe at first she did, but when she saw I was serious, she just told me to get out in the garden and lift my voice with theirs and make a beautiful noise to heaven!” Frederick looked at Rudy, his seriousness turning to a smile.

  “And there was no one, and I mean no one, who could make an apple rhubarb pie like her. Remember, fellas?” he asked, looking at Jacob and Yoshito for confirmation.

  “You knew Estelle?” Rudy asked, somehow being surprised and feeling a bit left out.

  Jacob and Yoshito nodded, smiling to themselves.

  “Estelle was a wonderful woman. She could cook like you wouldn’t believe. Had us over for the holidays all the time—any excuse to feed us,” Jacob replied, smiling at Frederick.

  “She and my wife, Grace, were very close. We always thought Estelle was very elegant,” Yoshito added.

  Yoshito was married too? Rudy thought. He wondered about any surprise Jacob might have.

  “Grace was a beautiful woman. Her name suited her,” Frederick added gently.

  Yoshito nodded, and for the first time, Rudy thought he saw tears in Yoshito’s eyes. Seeing Rudy looking at him, Yoshito said, “I will tell you about Grace one day but not today. Today we must get back to work. My plants are waiting for me to satiate their thirst, and I can see you are making good progress on pulling down the fence.” Yoshito moved to get up.

  “Well, here we go, eh, Rudy? Are you finished eating?” Jacob asked.

  “Sure, thanks for lunch. It was really good.”

  “Domo arigatou gozaimasu. That means thank you very much,” Yoshito replied with a slight bow.

  “Come on, Rudy. Frederick returns to his singing, and Yoshito seeks better conversation with the ferns. Our work waits for no one but us,” Jacob said as he hoisted his body from the chair.

  And so together they continued to pull down the fence inch by inch.

  Chapter 7

  Rudy let the screen door slam behind him when he went home that night, the same as he did every night.

  “Rudy! How many times do I need to ask you not to slam doors around here?” Rudy’s mother stepped out from the kitchen to see her son walking past.

  “Sorry, Mama.”

  “How’s that fence coming?” She was hesitant to ask about it after all the fights they had had about him taking that job, but it had been several weeks now and she had to know. How he had resisted. She absolutely knew that she needed to get him away from those boys he had been hanging out with before school ended. They were up to no good; she could feel it in her bones.

  “It’s okay.” That was a better response than she was expecting from her quiet and resistant son. How she worried about him, especially at this age, with no father figure to guide him.

  She considered herself a good Christian woman, but lately, now that Rudy was becoming a teenager, she began to feel the same anger toward Rudy’s father that she had felt when he first left. This boy needed his father, although she was entirely sure that he would not be the role model she had believed him to be when she met and married him. How he had swept her off her feet with his sweet talking; “baby” this and “sweetheart” that. He was a big talker too. Made grandiose plans that she hung her hat on that never amounted to anything. He just liked to have fun, keep everything light, everybody laughing. She had loved that about him in the beginning.

  But everything changed when she unexpectedly became pregnant. He became distant, stayed out and drank. He stuck it out for a while, and then one day, he was gone. Just like that. She didn’t have to wonder why. He had no patience for a baby or toddler and hated feeling weighed down with the responsibilities of fatherhood. How she could curse him! She didn’t even know if he was alive or dead after he moved away. He never bothered to keep in touch with his own flesh and blood. What kind of a man could just walk away like that?

  She couldn’t count the number of times she had gotten down on her knees and begged the Lord to watch over and protect her son from bad influences, to make him a better man than his father. Yet, she wondered if it was possible with no examples to show him the way.

  “Frederick and Jacob, are they nice, treating you okay?” she pushed.

  “Yeah, they’re… they’re nice. Yoshito, too.”

  Rudy’s mama was more than satisfied with that answer. The fights appeared to be over. She breathed a sigh of relief to herself.

  Reluctantly she added, “Those boys were over here looking for you again today. I keep telling them you have a summer job, but they seem persistent.” She hated telling him. She didn’t want him to hang around with those kids, but she knew he would find out directly from them. “Said they would be over at the park tonight. I don’t think you should go out tonight, Rudy. Those boys are bound to be looking for trouble.”

  “That’s okay. I think I’ll stay home. I don’t feel like going out tonight,” Rudy replied. He couldn’t go back to the park and couldn’t tell his mama why.

  Rudy’s mama tried to control her shock. She had been waiting for an argument. Concerned, she asked, “You feeling okay? Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m just tired tonight. I worked really hard today, Mama.” That at least was the truth, even if it wasn’t the entire reason. But he had dug out five feet of fence today—a new record for him—and he felt it in muscles he didn’t even know he had.

  “Okay, Rudy. Well, go take a shower, and I’ll have some dinner for you when you get out.”

  “Okay.” Rudy began walking in the direction of his room but stopped as he was turning the corner into the hallway. “Mama? You ever heard of a book called Killing Mockingbirds?”

  “You mean, To Kill a Mockingbird?” she asked confused. “Yes, I read it in high school. Why?”

  “Just thought I might like to try to read it. Frederick mentioned it. No big deal.”

  “I’ll pick up a copy at the library tomorrow. Now go on and take your shower.”

  Rudy’s mama stared at the doorway where her son had stood a minute ago. She didn’t know what was happening to her son, where the combative young man had gone, and now he wanted to read for fun, out of curiosity? Whatever was happening, she liked it, and yes, it was a very big deal.

  Chapter 8

  The
first month of summer had come and gone and nearly half of the fence was out. The work had seemed so hard at first, that fence fighting Rudy like a warrior. He didn’t know if he was getting stronger or just used to the job, but things seemed a bit easier. He was getting along with everyone better now too, although that Jacob was one tough old guy. On this particular day, Rudy showed up to find Jacob waiting for him.

  “You have a reprieve today, my young Goliath. Yoshito needs some assistance with a new project in his garden. Do you think you are up for a bit of a change today?” Jacob asked.

  “Sure, not a problem,” Rudy said, grateful to have something new to do. Pulling out that fence was strenuous work, and he was sure this new project would be too if they needed his help, but at least it was something different.

  “Very good. Maybe if you are lucky, you will hear Yoshito’s plants talking up a storm,” Jacob replied straight-faced but in good humor.

  “Go ahead and go over to his house. Maybe I’ll be by later, or maybe just see you tomorrow. We’ll see how this old body feels as the day goes along.” Jacob waved Rudy off with his hand.

  “Okay. See ya, Jacob,” Rudy said as he walked down the driveway, not yet wanting to climb over the drooping fence through Frederick’s yard to Yoshito’s.

  Heading toward the street, he realized as he did nearly every day that he left Jacob’s, what a difference there was between the drab street scene as compared to the life, greenery, and color in these three backyards. He looked more closely at the homes now, with new eyes. Mostly clean, but a bit run down; the paint was chipping off some, new roofs were needed on others that could not be afforded, metal screen doors needed to protect the inside from the outside. Then there was the house with the cars on the lawn. Everyone in the neighborhood knew it was a crack house, even the police knew—they were there often enough—yet nothing seemed to change. The people going in and out were not people you’d want to cross. He lived up around the corner and knew his mother hated her small house that needed more repairs than they had money.

  Funny, but Rudy felt freer being outside than he had before he started to work in the garden. He felt privileged in a way—like he was in on a secret. He’d told his mama that the backyard was unbelievable, beautiful beyond what could be imagined. Unless you had been in it, smelled the air, heard the birds, seen the color and the abundance, he didn’t think she could comprehend the beauty hidden behind those three nondescript houses.

  Rudy had even come to love the feel of mulched soil running through his fingers. He was learning a lot too. Before this summer, he would not have known the difference between a perennial and an annual. He never knew some flowers grew from a bulb, and he certainly could have never imagined how much he would enjoy watching vegetables grow. Sometimes Frederick would call him away from the fence to assist in preparing a bed for a new vegetable, feeding ones already on their way to maturity, or tying up tomato or bean plants that were getting big and gangly and having a mind of their own. It was actually fun.

  Still, Rudy had said nothing to his friends about it. They knew he had a summer job during the day that his mama had fixed up through church, but they had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t want them to know, didn’t want them putting down Jacob, Frederick, and Yoshito, and didn’t want them making fun of him. Truthfully, he rarely saw them anymore; they had lost their appeal. Rudy was beginning to understand that they were narrow-minded and their beliefs too closely resembled those of the people that killed Frederick’s daddy. He saw that more clearly now that he had been away from them working for Jacob. If they asked him to go out at night, maybe pull another shoplift, he just told them he couldn’t; he said he had to get up early or his mama needed him for something. Rudy was sure that they were saying bad things about him, but it didn’t seem to matter as much as it used to—he just wasn’t interested in that kind of trouble anymore, kind of like Frederick’s daddy. He liked imagining himself like Frederick’s daddy; maybe because he didn’t have a father of his own, or maybe he was just growing up. Even Jacob, Frederick, and Yoshito had turned out to be nicer—cooler—than he thought they would be. Jacob was a bit more aloof, but each of them treated him like he was special, like they had all come to like him. They treated him like he was one of them, and he liked it. It was a funny turn of events, but he couldn’t spend any more time wondering about it.

  As Rudy walked up Yoshito’s drive and entered his backyard, he could now see up close what he had only seen from Jacob’s backyard two doors away. Yoshito’s garden had an entirely different feel than Jacob’s. Both were wonderful, but Yoshito’s felt almost like going into a church. It was very peaceful and quiet, very shaded, the prominent sound coming from water running through bamboo into a hollowed-out stone spilling into small pebbles underneath. Around the stone basin, there were lush, low trees and ferns of every variety. At an elevated level farther back, Rudy saw some kind of gazebo. He wondered what it was for.

  The back screen door slammed behind Yoshito as he came out of the house and walked over to where Rudy stood. Rudy wondered if his mother would scold Yoshito as she did him.

  A gray and white stocky cat followed Yoshito and then cautiously approached Rudy to sniff his pant leg and investigate this new visitor. Rudy stood still, and as the cat deemed him safe, began to rub against his jeans, moving in figure eights in and out between his legs. “Hey boy,” Rudy said gently as he bent over to pet what was becoming a new friend. In response, the cat purred loudly, arching his back to meet Rudy’s hand.

  “Rudy, this is Ling; Ling, this is Rudy,” Yoshito said smiling, enjoying watching a new softness flow out of Rudy. “Ling has a very keen sense of people. He must find your spirit to be a gentle one.”

  Rudy smiled and stood, enjoying being described as gentle. “This is the first time I’ve seen your garden up close. It’s so peaceful and restful, really beautiful.”

  “Thank you. It is in this space that I let go of the worries of this world and where I dream of the next. You are too young to think of such things yet, but as you get older, you begin to wonder about the place where you will spend eternity.” He smiled at Rudy and then continued. “Let me give you a tour before we give ourselves over to our project for the day.” Rudy followed Yoshito down the path toward the flowing water.

  “You will find that while my garden is harmonious with Frederick’s and Jacob’s gardens, it has certain elements from my culture that you will not find in the others. First, you will notice this stone mosaic path. You can see the shape of the stones and the manner in which they are laid gives an illusion of movement, as if a river was flowing and leading us toward the water source.” Stepping closer to the rustic stone bowl, he continued. “This type of water basin is called a tsukubai. Can you say that?”

  Rudy attempted to mimic Yoshito. “Tsukubai.”

  “Yes, that’s it. The tsukubai is known as a crouching basin. In order to use it, one must adopt a position of humility. One must remember that he is only a small part of the world, not the world itself. You will see the larger and smaller pebbles surrounding it in a definite pattern. This is all part of the desired arrangement. I have devised the water to flow like a fountain so one can always hear the sound of trickling water. Behind it and to the side is a stone lantern called ishi toro, which contains the three basic shapes, the square, the circle and the triangle. Long ago, lanterns would be lit to provide lighting for tea ceremonies that took place after dark or first thing in the early morning hours. I will occasionally put a candle out here, but I am afraid I have adopted technology by using electrical lighting for night time. It highlights this area very nicely.”

  Walking along pathways of stone, Rudy noticed that most all the plantings were evergreen. Here and there was a splash of color, and he was proud that he could identify many by their names, like the Japanese maple and hydrangeas, the orchids he saw in pots situated at random, the long iris leaves, and the azaleas a
nd camellia bushes that in late winter and early spring would provide some color. Mostly though, there was this carpet of green textures—mosses, grasses, trees, ferns, bushes—everything lush. As they worked their way along an upward path, they approached the wood gazebo that Rudy had noticed earlier.

  “What is that?” Rudy questioned, pointing to the small retreat.

  In the corner of the yard, a bit elevated, was a small structure surrounded by maple trees. Its four corner posts and the cross beams were in dark wood with open walls and bamboo covering the roof. The floor was large, flat stones with some color; maybe slate with bamboo mats thrown about. It was a simple but serene place. Rudy felt like whispering as if it was a holy place and he was on hallowed ground.

  “This is where I come to meditate, to pray… where I come to open my mind to positive experience and energy. See how the sunlight is filtered through the delicate leaves of the maple? It is a beautiful setting. I come here to gain strength each day to face the hardships of life and to forgive past wrongs and prepare myself for my existence on the next plane.”

  “Hardships? You seem to have it made here,” Rudy said, clearly confused. Yoshito appeared to have a calm existence, didn’t seem to have many hardships. What past wrongs was he talking about? Rudy wanted to know.

  “Everyone must endure hardships, Rudy; no one is exempt. I think you have already discovered that at a young age. For you it may be not having a father or financial hardships.” Rudy almost visibly winced. Yoshito had zeroed in on his greatest pain. “For me, it is the loss of Grace, my wife. I miss her terribly. One does not easily recover from a loss like that. Her loss opened a great space for loneliness and bitterness to take hold. I must work to not let those negative energies move into that space but fill it up with other things.” They continued to walk on.