Then they decided to practice their English on me. One brave boy stepped forward. “Hello. My name is Yuki. What is your name?”
“My name is Sam.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, very seriously, ignoring the fact that his friends behind him erupted in giggles. “Have a nice day. Peace.”
He held up two fingers and grinned at me. “Peace,” I said back, trying not to laugh.
A different guard stood by the gate. “Mr. Ando would like to see you,” he said, speaking in Japanese and using honorific language. “He is waiting.”
I looked at him in surprise. Japanese was actually comprised of three separate languages. One for speaking to people who are your equal, one for speaking to people below your station, and one for speaking to or about people above your station. The guard used honorifics when speaking about Mr. Ando. A guard was probably above a janitor on the whole social scale of things, but perhaps Mr. Ando’s advanced age made him earn the honorific title. Not Ando-san, but Ando-sama. Interesting.
He led me to the back of the complex and through a door that said “Do Not Enter” in several languages. I looked around, surprised to discover a hidden world of monks in dark robes with shaved heads and beads in their hands. The guard, in his perfectly pressed uniform, helmet, and pristine white gloves, took me through a maze of pathways until we reached a large building in the far corner of the complex. He gently rapped on the sliding door.
“Andosama. Gaijin no okyakusama ga irrasyamasu.” Honorable Mr. Ando. Your foreign visitor is here.
“Dozo, dozo.”
I heard Mr. Ando’s voice coming from inside. The guard opened the door for me, indicated I should remove my shoes, and pointed to one of the rooms inside. Then he bowed and left, shutting the door softly behind him.
I took off my shoes, putting them in one of the wooden cubbies off to the side, and ignored the slippers set out on the floor for visitors. My feet, a size nine, were huge by Japanese standards. The slippers never seemed to fit me. I was better off in my stocking feet.
I walked through the simple, elegant building, past quiet alcoves filled with paintings and flower arrangements. I heard soft murmurs of conversation coming from one of the back rooms, so I followed the sounds.
Mr. Ando lay on a bed, his head elevated, a nurse by his side. Several monks sat in seiza, the upright kneeling position used in meditation, on the tatami mat floor. I stared at Mr. Ando in shock. A few days ago, he’d been pruning a tree, and now he looked too tired to even lift his head. But when he smiled at me, it lit up the room.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “What happened?”
I approached him, trying very hard not to cry. This wasn’t old age. He was dying and I knew it.
“It’s cancer, and there is nothing to be done about it. Don’t be sad, Sami-chan. Don’t weep for me like you did your friend. There is no sadness in my passing, only joy.”
I knelt by his bed. “You’ve been sick a long time, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“There was no need. Knowing or not knowing, the outcome would be the same.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You aren’t a janitor are you?”
The monks behind me giggled and so did Mr. Ando, a twinkle in his eyes. “No, I am not, but being a janitor is an honorable profession. We should all strive to do whatever job is assigned to us with humility and diligence, even the smallest task.”
“I feel like I’ve been hanging out with Yoda for the last few months and just realized it.”
“Yoda from Star Wars? He is like a monk. Like me.”
“You are more than just a monk, Ando-sama,” said one of the monks from behind me. I turned to look at him.
“Who exactly is this guy?”
The monk laughed, probably at my ignorance. “He is the head monk of Ryoanji Temple. He has been for many, many years, and he is also one of the world’s most influential Zen Buddhism scholars.”
I turned back to Mr. Ando. “No way.”
He shrugged. “You saw me in my simplest form. As I prefer to be. As a janitor. Or a gardener. But we cannot change what we are. We must accept it. Gentlemen, you can leave us for now. Sami-chan and I would like to talk.”
The men got up and shuffled out of the room. “So you’re the boss around here, huh?”
He nodded. “For now at least. How have you been? Did you make your peace with your ikigai? With Thomas MacGregor?”
I couldn’t believe I’d been discussing my boyfriend problems with one of the world’s leading scholars of Zen Buddhism. “I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”
“Your problems do not bore me. They entertain me, like the tsukubai puzzle. You are my puzzle.”
I took a deep breath and told him all about Jake and my sister’s visit, about the letter, about Thomas and how mean he’d been lately, about Malcolm and what he’d told me about the rugby team. Mr. Ando got very excited about the rugby part, surprisingly.
“He plays rugby? I love rugby.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yes. And Japan has a good team this year. It is unfortunate I will not get to see the World Cup.”
I sniffed, trying to hold back tears. “How long do you have?”
He reached out and patted my hand. “Not much longer. I will spend another week here, and then return to my home in Aichi-ken so my sister can fuss over me. She likes to fuss over me, and I prefer to die in the house where I was born. A full circle. I want it to end that way.”
“I’ll miss you,” I said, not about to stop the tears. “You helped me so much. More than I can ever express. You were a friend to me when I needed it most.”
Mr. Ando gave me a gentle smile. “Friendship is a beautiful thing. I’m happy I am your friend, Sami-chan. Love is a beautiful thing, too. What will you do about Thomas?”
I let out a long, shaky breath, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. “I don’t know. I don’t want to mess things up for him.”
“His path is already set. It is destiny. It is not your job to control his fate. Thomas might regret it forever if he doesn’t play rugby, but that is not certain. What is certain is you will regret it forever if you don’t tell him how you feel.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right,” he said, giving me a wink. “I’m one of the world’s leading experts on Zen Buddhism. I know everything.”
“What should I do? How can I make him understand?”
“First of all, don’t listen to me. Don’t listen to Malcolm or Hana or anyone else. Listen to your heart. Speak from your heart. Tell him the words he most needs to hear. Tell him the truth.”
“If you weren’t like the head monk around here, you could have been an awfully good matchmaker.”
He chuckled, leaning back on his pillows. “Maybe so. But I have one last very important question for you.”
“What?”
“What position does Thomas play? Is he a center?”
I laughed. “I have no idea.”
He looked disappointed. “Can you bring him here to meet me next week? After you get back from the onsen?”
“Sure,” I said. “Why are you so sure I’m going to the onsen?”
He closed his eyes. “Because the cherry blossoms are beautiful right now. Very romantic. A good time for new beginnings.”
I said goodbye, but he was already fast asleep. I pulled his blanket up so it covered him to his shoulders, thanked the monks who sat outside his door, and sprinted back to my room. I had a train to catch.
I made the late train with only minutes to spare and texted Hana that I was on my way. She promised not to tell Thomas. The train ride took an hour, and I needed every minute of it. I frantically worked on what I wanted to say, writing it out so I wouldn’t mess it up. By the time I reached the onsen, I was a ball of nerves.
Hana met me at the entrance, dressed in a kimono. “You look awesome,” I said.
“I have one for you, too. The guys are all wearing yukata. It’s kind of hilarious. Thomas’ is about three sizes too small for him.”
The cherry blossom viewing party, or hanami, started after dark. Hana insisted I shower and take a long soak in the hot spring bath. “There is one for females only and one that is unisex. The Japanese people are pretty comfortable with it, but foreigners often wear bathing suits.”
I nodded. “I brought mine, but I don’t need it for the female bath, right?”
“Of course not.”
It was close to dinner, so the bath was empty. Located in a secluded courtyard, I showered and then stepped into the hot, inviting water. I sighed in pleasure, feeling my muscles relax. I leaned back, still not believing I’d decided to come here, but Mr. Ando had been right. If I didn’t tell Thomas how I felt, I’d regret it forever.
Hana helped me to dress, wrapping me in a pink kimono decorated with cherry blossoms. Although my arms stuck out, making the owner of the onsen laugh, I still liked the way it looked. Hana tied the middle with a red obi, or sash, and she even found wooden clogs in the right size for my ginormous foreign feet.
I pulled my hair up into a bun, put on a touch of makeup, and looked at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were pink from the hot bath, and my eyes glowed with excitement. Hana added some decorative combs to my hair, completing the outfit.
“The moment of truth,” I said, linking my arm through Hana’s as we walked to the party. She had on a kimono the same pale blue as the sky in spring. Hers fit perfectly, of course. No super long arms or huge feet, Hana, for once, looked very Japanese. She didn’t sound very Japanese however.
“Go big or go home, hoaloha.”
“Did you just call me a ‘ho’ and say ‘aloha’?”
She laughed so hard she snorted. “It’s Hawaiian for beloved friend. You’re my hoaloha.”
“Aw. You’re my aloha ho, too.”
We were still laughing when we reached the grove of cherry trees down by the river, but as soon as we saw them we both grew quiet and still. The blossoms fell like pink snow from the trees, covering the ground beneath and silencing our footsteps. Paper lanterns had been strung through the trees, adding a magical glow. Music played and people sang, danced, and picnicked under the fragrant blossoms. We searched the area for our group. Malcolm saw us and waved. Thomas, who sat surrounded by a bunch of Japanese girls, froze, a piece of sushi halfway to his mouth. He did not look happy to see me. He looked pissed off, in fact. He stared at me a long moment, then his eyes went back to his food.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…”
Hana pulled my arm. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
We sat down and Thomas ignored me. Completely. He laughed and joked and drank and flirted with every other female there, but he never even glanced my way. Not once.
We had been given bento boxes filled with savory meats and flavorful sushi, but I barely picked at mine. I was in the most beautiful place I could imagine, sitting only a few feet away from the man I loved, but I’d never been so miserable. I felt like the chasm between us had become miles wide. But it was time to take one last chance.
I stood up and stared at Thomas, speaking in a loud voice that quavered only slightly. “I have something I’d like to say.”
Hana handed me a small cup of sake. “You might need this,” she said softly. I drank it like a shot. It warmed my belly, making me feel slightly better.
“What’s this about?” asked Thomas, his brows furrowing. He was ticked off I came, and ticked off I wanted to speak. He’d be even more ticked off once he heard what I had to say.
I took out the note I had tucked into the sleeve of my kimono, unfolded it, and stared at the words for a moment, my hands shaking. When I looked up at Thomas and his angry face, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“Are you going to talk or are you going to stand there?” he asked.
I looked down, tears filling my eyes. I’d made a mistake. I couldn’t do this. But then I remembered what Mr. Ando told me, and I knew I had to be brave or I’d regret it forever.
“Tha gaol agam ort, Thomas.” I love you, Thomas.
He looked up at me in surprise, and I kept my eyes on him, continuing in my awful, stilted, halting Gaelic.
“I love your face. I love your eyes. I love your laugh. I love everything. I love you even when you are a big, stubborn ox. Maybe I love you then most of all. I love you even when you are mad at me. And you should be mad at me. You have that right.”
I took a deep breath and glanced down at my notes. Everyone had grown very quiet, although only Thomas had any idea what I was trying to say. “I’m sorry I lied. The night we were together was the best night of my life. I was in pain and acted like a complete and total idiot. None of it was your fault, and I love you. I will love you always. Forgive me.”
I folded the paper up and put it into my sleeve. The silence was deafening. I waited for Thomas to speak, but he didn’t say a word.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I turned and ran away blindly, not sure where I was going. Only knowing I had to get away from Thomas and the whole group. I’d just humiliated myself in public, in a kimono, in Gaelic, and now I wanted to hide from everyone.
I ran down the path by the water, sliding in my stupid wooden clogs, until I found a quiet spot under one of the cherry trees, right where a low stone wall bordered the meandering river. I decided it was the perfect place for me to sit down and have a good cry. I scooted to the edge of the wall, letting my feet dangle over the side. I pulled out the decorative combs Hana had put in my hair, took off the painful clogs, and removed the tight white stockings from my feet. They were designed for the clogs, with a split between my big and second toe. They made me look like I had goat feet.
I yanked up the bottom of my kimono and tucked it under me so it wouldn’t get wet, and then I dipped my toes into the river. The cold water felt good on my sore feet. I sat there, tears pouring down my cheeks, without any clue what I should do next.
I’d failed. Horribly. Miserably. I’d lost the last chance I had with Thomas, and I’d made a public spectacle of myself in the process.
I tried to find a more comfortable spot on the rocky wall and let out a squeak as I nearly fell into the river. The only way this night could possibly get worse would be if I landed on my butt in the shallow water. It probably wasn’t deep enough for me to drown, but it would ruin my borrowed kimono. And I’d have to walk back to the onsen, dripping wet and bedraggled. If that happened, it would be the perfect ending to a perfectly miserable evening. I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide, and I never wanted to see Thomas MacGregor or any of his friends ever again.
“Are you planning to take a swim, lass?”
He stood right behind me, making me jump. I almost fell into the river. Again.
“What do you want?”
“Judging by the removal of clothing, and the way you’re precariously balanced on that wall, I’d say you plan to go skinny dipping, but the water seems a mite cold for that.”
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. My hair fell in tangles around my face, my mascara had smeared, and I probably looked like a swollen lobster.
“If you’re planning to torture me, just go back to the party.”
“I don’t want to torture you. Not much anyway.”
“Then what do you want?”
He sat down next to me, his massive, muscular thighs only inches from mine. “Well, you just swore your undying love to me, in Gaelic no less, and then ran away as fast as you could in that get up. What were you thinking?”
“I made a complete fool of myself once again. And it was all for nothing. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t even look at me.”
He stuck his bare feet into the water. I thought my feet were big, but his made mine seem petite and dainty.
“I was stunned speechless. It may have been the first time.”
“Stranger things have happened, I
guess.”
“You learned Gaelic for me.”
“Yes.”
“And you called me a fat cow.”
I stared at him. “No. I called you a big ox. Reamhar bo.”
“Which means fat cow, or a fat female ox. Either way it’s a bit of an insult.”
“Crap. I even messed up my love speech.”
He frowned at me. “You should have spent that time studying kanji. You only have a few days left before your test. You can’t afford to waste it.”
My heart sank in my chest. “I see.” I pulled my feet out of the water and tried to stand up, not easy with a kimono practically wadded around my waist.
Thomas grabbed my arm. “Where in the blazes are you going now?”
I tried to straighten the kimono, but it refused to cooperate. My eyes flooded with a fresh rush of tears. “You’re right. Learning Gaelic was a waste of time. I wanted to know if you could f-f-forgive me. I guess I got my answer.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, bloody hell.”
He grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the inn. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept tugging. I dug in my heels. “I left shoes and combs and a pair of socks by the river. They aren’t mine.”
He muttered a curse, gathered everything up, handed the items to me without saying another word, and then lifted me over his shoulder, my head bouncing against his back. I tried to look up to see where we were going, and he gave me a smack on the bottom.
“Mind your head,” he said, his voice a growl. “I don’t want you banging it off a cherry tree.”
I put my head back down, clutching my things in my hands. Not the most comfortable way to travel, nor the most dignified. He set me on my feet once we were inside the tatami covered rooms of the inn. I glared at him.
“Very Neanderthal of you,” I said with a huff, pushing the hair off my face.
He shrugged. “The quickest way to get you here and the quietest. Now, come with me.”
He led me down the hall to his room. Once inside, he turned to me. I still had the wooden shoes, socks and combs in my hands and my kimono was askew. My pretty red obi had twisted around, and I now had a giant bow in front of my belly button. I stared down at my feet, still sniffing from my crying jag and not wanting him to see my face. He put a finger under my chin and tilted it up so I had to look at him.
Saying Goodbye, Part Two (Passports and Promises Book 1) Page 14
