“I will indeed, Steven. I will not risk Katie’s wrath by stopping by and then leaving before seeing her, and Gilberto, for that matter,” Benjiro replied, getting up to turn in.
Breakfast and Philosophy
Benjiro was up early the next morning. He left a note on the table saying he was going to chase the sunrise. In reality, he was chasing the solitude. That was the one thing he didn’t get enough of in his work. Cruise ships were not known for being places of peace and solitude. The people that traveled on them, and most of the people that worked them, were uncomfortable if they didn’t have a completely full schedule all the time.
He wandered up the street, farther away from Steven’s tiny resort home and Katie’s Sari-Sari store, until he found a path to the side that didn’t look like someone’s driveway. He turned into the path and started uphill, heading generally to the east. As he crested the little hill a sliver of deep orange was starting to show along the horizon. This was as good a place as any.
He spread the woven meditation mat he carried, bamboo side to the ground, on an area that had an unobstructed view to the east. Arranging himself cross-legged, back in yoga plank position and arms entwined, he opened his mind to the day’s new energy pouring into him at the speed of light.
Forty-five minutes later Benjiro was smiling, whistling and carrying his rolled mat under his arm thinking, This is as good as it gets. And even he didn’t know if he meant the sunrise, the solitude, the acceptance and company of old friends, or the anticipation of a Filipino home-cooked breakfast instead of a cruise ship buffet.
He met Katie’s husband, Orlan, on the road walking from his shop to their house. It had been a while since they’d seen each other, and Orlan recognized Benjiro first. “Benji, great to see you!” Orlan said, taking him in a skinny bear-hug.
Returning the hug, Benjiro replied, “Orlan, sorry I didn’t recognize you. Have you already been to work?” Orlan was a talented artist with metal: a welder, and also very capable with many other materials and tools, but he started his mornings in his shop in order to smoke his morning cigarette. Katie had never relented on letting him smoke around the house, so he popped down to his shop each day before breakfast and before putting in his false teeth.
“Yeah, sorry, had to have a stick before breakfast and I never wear my teeth when I smoke. Lighting those sticks with my welding torch took my first set of teeth; I’m not letting anything take the second set,” Orlan chucked.
When they entered the house, Katie gave Benji a hug while Orlan went to get his teeth.
“Benji, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you. When Kuya said you were coming I couldn’t believe it,” Katie told him. She was finishing up frying some rice and had to step back to the pan to make sure it didn’t stick and burn. “Steven said you were only here for a couple days?”
“Yeah, I’m heading to Gao, India to meet a friend,” Benjiro answered.
“Same friend you told Kuya about yesterday?” Katie asked.
Word traveled fast. Her back was to him, but the smile in her voice was apparent. Benjiro decided to accept the smile as happiness for him and an invitation to share more. “Yes, I will meet Tomakita there after some personal business he has in Mumbai.”
“Well what he’s doing in India looking for medical treatment is beyond me. You know the Philippines supplies the world’s nursing staff, right?” Katie said.
Man, this family was tight. If you tell one of them, you’ve told them all, Benjiro thought. Well, except for the sibling, no one, as far as he knew, had spoken to in quite a while. Where the hell was Boris, anyway?
Having finished the rice, Katie put the bowl on the kitchen table. “Do you want some coffee, Benjiro?” she offered.
“I’d love some hot water, Katie. I’m pretty much drinking green tea these days. Since it’s not as popular as coffee, I generally travel with my own,” he replied, and brought a tea bag filled with tea out of one of his pockets.
Orlan walked back into the kitchen just as Gilberto and Orlan’s brother, Jazper, came to the door. The Gilberto just walked up to Benjiro and took him in a bear hug. After a moment he said, “I’m glad to see you, Benji. You look really good and I hope this means life is treating you well.”
After Gilberto released him, Jazper stuck out his hand in an awkward greeting. Benjiro took it and drew the younger gay man in for a hug. He said nothing, patting him on the back, but Benjiro rather used the physical closeness to pass brainwaves of calm and acceptance to the man that likely felt isolated and different in this strongly religious country.
“Okay, enough with the touchy-feely stuff. It’s not every day I make eggs and sausage for breakfast, or at least it’s not every day I get this many breakfast guests. Let’s eat,” Katie said. The group laughed, caught up on old times, and chatted about the future as they munched through Katie’s tasty breakfast.
Benjiro remembered many years ago being a sad young man that had stumbled upon Steven, whom he now understood to be a member of his family of choice, drawing maps on the beach, and warmth radiated from his soul into the smile on his face.
India Palace
It had taken Benjiro the better part of twenty-four hours to travel by bus from the second-class municipality of San Antonio in Zambales province to Manila, fly from there to Mumbai, where he was swept up in a limo and swiftly, or at least persistently, driven out of the sprawling, noise-polluted city to the quiet haven that was the resort Tomakita chose for them. Benjiro couldn’t quite fathom the disparity between the atmosphere of noise, crowds and pollution that was both Manila and Mumbai, with the vast grandeur of the luxury retreat glimpsed beyond the gate his limousine passed through on the way into the resort. He knew Tomakita was wealthy. He’d visited a home in Japan, where it had been hinted there were other properties, and seen some pictures of a place Tomakita had hinted he owned in Geneva. But having worked pretty hard to build his life around one carry-on and a roller bag, he wasn’t easily impressed by material possessions.
“This is not Mr. Hayashi’s regular location, but he specifically requested it for this visit. He told us that you, Mr. Takata, his honored guest, would arrive before him for this visit and that we should do our best to make you comfortable in this tree-top villa,” the private concierge told him as they pulled up to the huge treehouse.
Benjiro didn’t say anything, but he stepped out of the resort’s Range Rover, which had whisked him from the front of the resort, nearly without letting his feet touch the ground, to the canopy of this enormous tree. The tree did not stand alone, but it was the largest, by far, in his sight. There was a luxurious-looking basket, the size of a small bedroom in many of the cruise ships he sailed, sitting on the ground. Four ropes, as big around as his forearms, disappeared up into the branches and finally into the underbelly of what Benjiro could only think was a huge treehouse, nearly fifty feet in the air.
One side of the treehouse faced the mountains in the distance, while the other faced the water. The lake was much closer than were the mountains but still probably a mile or more away. The sun was starting to set and the golden hour was nearly upon them, turning the browns in the tree to fire.
“Do not worry about dinner; it has been arranged and will be served when you are ready, in your villa,” the concierge continued, indicating the building fifty feet above them. “Let us go up now and I’ll introduce you to the staff.”
“I’d rather watch the sun set. I’ll return later,” Benjiro said, turning his face to the lake and starting to walk in that direction. He sensed hesitancy in the concierge, but clearly this was a place where the guest was in charge, and he kept walking.
The trail was wide enough for a vehicle, but it was maintained such as to blend into the surroundings. He quickly found that the thin forest of trees opened onto fields of dried grasses undulating in the breeze, hues deepening into mystery the closer the sun crept toward the horizon. When he reached the edge of the lower scrub brush he walked a few more yards, crossed his
legs, and slowly sank to a relaxation pose.
His senses told him that he was not alone. That he might not be totally alone as long as he stayed at this luxurious resort. It didn’t matter; he was a yoga master and knew how to bring peace and calm to himself within a crowd. Having a person or two hanging back in order to act on any whim that might come to his mind wasn’t going to stop him.
Closing his eyes, Benjiro submerged deep inside himself, letting his spirit rise from the lotus position, leaving his physical shell marking the spot. His spirit self continued the relaxing walk toward the lake. He felt the grasses underfoot, still warm from the heat of the day’s bright sun, massaging the bottoms of his naked feet. The same breeze that moved the grasses now swept the loose hairs back from his face, in line with his ponytail, worn when he traveled and when he worked, to keep his mass of hair from becoming unkempt.
As his spirit self came to the edge of the lake, slowly being washed by the rippling waves, he anchored his thoughts by watching the sun make its final dip below the horizon on its continual path. He moved his eyes until they were looking almost directly over him and watched as the stars started to blink on, responding to the mood lighting change created by one of their own. The sky filling with stars always tugged him back to two different memories.
The first memory was of his father, who, even given his many faults, was fascinated with stars and space and passed that enthusiasm on to many of his students. The stars, the solar system, the Milky Way…they were the basis for Benjiro’s wanderlust and maybe the basis for many of his feelings of loneliness and isolation, as well.
The second memory was of meeting the boy on the beach during one of his childhood visits to his mother’s country of origin. The friendship he’d forged with Steven, and most of Steven’s family, that summer had apparently become a tether. It was a lifeline that stayed with him as he aged. It hadn’t kept him out of trouble, hadn’t kept him from making mistakes, but it was there when he’d finally realized he wanted to remedy some of the mistakes. Hand over hand, being drawn from both ends of the lifeline, Benjiro resurfaced and rebuilt his life.
And now here he was.
The stars were bright. A crescent moon was starting to come up. It was time to return to his body and investigate that treehouse.
He walked back to the lift, as big as many rooms he’d lived in, and let the staff bring him up into the waiting luxury.
Tomakita Returns
The next day Benjiro met the sunrise, as was his custom. He stayed in the treehouse to do it, rather than going to meet it as it came over the mountains, because the main buildings of the resort were between his treehouse and the bottom of the mountain. He always found it more difficult to create the feeling of spirit-walking when he was inside, but he still felt grounded for the day when he started this way.
The routine with the Land Rover and the concierge was repeated before lunch, this time culminating in Tomakita’s delivery to the treetop villa. The basket elevator was quiet but not so silent that Benjiro didn’t meet it as it arrived at the villa in the tree.
“Toma-san, I’m glad you’re here. How was your…meeting?” Benjiro realized he didn’t know exactly what to call it because he didn’t know exactly what it had been. Medical appointment? Procedure? Consultation?
“It was as I expected, Benji-san. In fact, better than I expected,” Tomakita answered, seeming pleased as he settled into a very comfortable chair in the sitting room.
“I’m very glad, sukina Toma-san. Will we be staying to complete…what is needed? Or will we be coming back soon?” Benjiro asked.
“I will be staying for an extended time, Benji-san. I wish you to stay until the medical procedures start, but then you must go and meet me later, when I am recovered,” Tomakita answered.
“I wouldn’t normally want to leave while you recover, Toma-san. Why would you suggest that?” Benjiro asked.
“My company is cutting-edge. I am the sharp sword. Until recently I never owned a desk. As it is now, it was then,” Tomakita said in answer.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand, sukina Toma-san,” Benjiro said, kneeling in front of his beloved.
Tomakita sighed. The age difference between the two never seemed to make a difference. Tomakita was an old man only in years, but in vitality, intelligence and understanding, he always seemed slightly ahead of Benjiro. Now, as Tomakita answered, Benjiro heard a tiredness in his spirit that he’d never encountered before.
“You know I had an important role in the big war, Benji-san. You also know I have never been one to sit behind a desk or to inform others of what they should do from afar.” Tomakita took a sip of the delicate jasmine phoenix pearl tea that the villa’s personal butler had placed quietly beside him. “The things we did…the things that were done to us…who is to say now if they were right or wrong? I, for one, will not. However, as you are very well aware, the universe requires balance, Benji-san. Energy comes and energy goes and the universe is the ultimate mathematician. She never forgets, and her interest rates are sometimes exorbitant.”
Benjiro listened to Tomakita’s explanation. He understood the words, he understood the philosophy and he understood much of what it was meant to convey. The story was not meant to convey the detail. The sordid, gruesome, maybe even shameful detail behind what was ultimately responsible for causing Tomakita to come to this place.
“I’ve suspected it for several years and known it for a short while,” Tomakita said.
“Know what, Toma-san?” Benjiro asked again. “What are you here to do?”
“My body is slowly failing me, Benji-san. I’m here to look into the cutting edge of organ replacements,” Tomakita finally told him.
It was a difficult thing to hear, especially coming from someone with whom he’d had so little time and wanted to spend so much more time with. Now it was Benjiro’s turn to let out a slow sigh. At least now he understood better. India was one country that had developed a luxury medical industry to serve the highest bidder, generally none of them Indians. If the potential patient had the money, and wanted to try a treatment that was new, maybe hadn’t been approved via the rigors of quantitative testing, or maybe just wanted to jump to the head of the line, India was one place to do it.
“What are you looking at replacing, Toma-san?” Benjiro asked.
“It will be a process, Benji-san,” Tomakita answered.
“But which organ will the process start with?” Benjiro pushed for an actual answer.
“I have asked to begin with my liver,” Tomakita finally answered.
“And after that, what, Toma?” Benjiro asked.
“My pancreas and then my eyes,” Tomakita answered quietly.
Chasing a Phantom
“What’s the matter, Daddy?”
“It’s nothing, Konnor,” Steven replied. Apparently his frustration with anther trail being lost as effectively as a one-manned outrigger in a dense morning fog had been unknowingly communicated to his son in the form of a deep sigh. After so many years of chasing rumors about his sister’s death he knew he should be used to it, but the sense of loss and frustration never went away. Somehow he always thought the next puzzle piece would be the one to make it all fall into place. Then Steven would shine a bright light on the responsible party and get the law to make them pay.
“You shouldn’t be sad about nothing, Daddy.”
“I’m not sad, buddy.”
Konnor leaned in, put his hand to his mouth conspiratorially and said, “Were you chasing whispers again?”
“What makes you say that, buddy?”
“Well, Mommy says that sometimes when you’re studying at your desk I should go and get your attention because you’re just chasing whispers and it’s not good to live in the past.”
“Oh, so now you and Mommy are ganging up on me, are you?” Steven chuckled and swiped at the top of Konnor’s head.
Konnor ducked out of the way and ran from the room, yelling, “Mommy, get the ice cream out; Da
ddy needs to be cheered up.”
I need to be cheered up… right. That kid is going to be smarter than either of us soon, thought Steven as he got up to join his son in a treat.
Bettina looked up from her book when Steven entered the room shortly after Konnor. “So it wasn’t just another ploy for ice cream, then?” she asked.
“It’s always a ploy for ice cream with that one,” answered Steven. “However, sometimes he makes a point and the ploy becomes an excuse for his old dad to step away. I guess I’ve chased enough whispers for one day.”
When Bettina colored at the remark Steven knew Konnor didn’t pull his mother’s comments out of thin air. “Why do you tell him things like that, Betts?” Steven asked.
“Why do you spend so much time anguishing over the past?” Bettina answered. “The past holds nothing but lost moments, guilt and broken hearts for you and Julia, Steven.”
Steven couldn’t argue with that logic. But since logic had nothing to do with why he continued his scrutiny of the details surrounding Julia’s death, all he could do was sigh and follow Konnor to the icebox to help him dish up ice cream for the three of them.
“I’ve decided to stay awhile the next time I hit port in Shanghai, Betts,” Steven said.
“You’re kidding, right?” she said as she looked up.
Ignoring the irritation in Bettina’s voice, Steven continued, “I know I was there shortly after she…after what happened…but I wasn’t asking the questions then, I was being asked. And now the standard channels have gone completely cold. They aren’t even pretending they’re going to answer any of my inquiries anymore. I haven’t gotten a response in almost two years.”
“But that’s my point exactly with the whispers, Steven. It’s been almost fourteen years now. Let her rest in peace, why don’t you?”
“Betts, what if she can’t rest in peace until I find out who did this to her?”
One Fish, Two Fish, Big Fish, Little Fish: Silver Dawn (Smugglers In Paradise Book 2) Page 3
