After finishing a delicious meal, my creative mind demanded a sightseeing tour, or at least a walk. Paying my bill, I smiled and thanked the waitress and asked her to send my compliments to the cook on a delicious soup. Once on my way, I tried not to think too much about anything, just let my feet take me where they would. It was a nice day, warm for an August afternoon. Though I did sigh in relief as I found my way under some trees and into the shaded sidewalk.
A while later, I came to a corner with a fire station. Impulse made me turn right to follow the road through a corridor of trees. The musical sound of songbirds accompanied my footsteps into the lengthening shadows. I paused a moment to take some pictures of the scenery for my own pleasure. Even the scent of the forest was an enticing experience. Intoxicating, actually, for someone who lives in a city where exhaust fumes ruled the skies.
Branches from the trees arched up and over creating a majestic green tunnel ending at the first steps. Ancient and worn stone seemed to have withstood the eternal march of time and nature. I knelt down to take a picture of the stairs that led up the steep slope of the hillside, before starting the long climb up the terraced steps. At each landing, I took a moment or two to relax and let myself soak up the atmosphere. Everywhere on the hillside, something new revealed itself to my eyes. The sound of air rushing through the trees, and the feathers of a bird searching for food, contributed to the aura of peace in the wilderness. After about fifteen minutes of climbing, I reached the top, and stood in awe of the structure before me. Only the roofs of the structure had that new, just put on, look.
The aura of the building felt incredibly old. I knew the history of the place because I’d retrieved the information from the internet while on the flight over from Seattle. I knew by the location and by the photos on my laptop, this majestic building could be none other than the Amanawa Jinja Shrine. A very old Shinto temple dedicated to the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu. It held me in awe. It’s one thing to see the pictures of it on websites, but purely another to view it up close and in person. Like all things in Japan, they are more amazing if you can view them with your own eyes instead of through the eyes of someone else. I moved slowly towards the structure and knelt in the traditional Japanese manner on the ancient stones. A glance at my watch told me what I needed to know. A half-hour time limit before heading back down the stairway and to the beach. Satisfied, my eyes closed while the silence of the place seeped into my soul. My mind became peacefully blank, free of any thoughts.
It seemed like an eternity, but only fifteen minutes passed according to my watch, before I came back to myself. With the sun descending on the horizon, getting back to Kamakura in time for the dance seemed like a good idea. Just the thought of Cosar dancing shook me out of the peaceful lethargy that descended upon me. Shifting slightly in preparation to get the circulation back into my legs, I looked down and gaped in shock. There, where it could easily be seen, a tiny origami crane made of snow white paper. Only a delicate half an inch long, if that. Yet positioned in such a way that my eyes would be drawn to it the moment they opened.
No one had ever gotten that close to me without me sensing them. You know how it is. If someone steps into your personal area, no matter what you’re doing at the moment, you can sense them. Well, for some odd reason, I never sensed who put that crane there. It wasn’t there at my arrival, the paper looked too new. I picked up the small figurine and inhaled the faint scent of Sandalwood. It tickled my nose, just faint enough to not be overpowering. My favorite scent. Turning, I gently placed the origami piece into my bag before glancing at the time. Five minutes to get my legs working and walk back down the hill.
Grimacing, I managed to straighten enough to convince the lower half of my legs they needed to wake up and smell the coffee. The hated pins and needles effect manifested itself as my effort to wake them up succeeded. It’s a necessary evil if you want to walk again without breaking your ankles. When my legs finally cooperated with me, I turned slowly toward the darkened entrance of the Shinto shrine before me and bowed respectfully, smiling softly to myself as I honored the kami, or spirits, of the Temple. Turning away, I began the slow decent down the stairway into the coolness of the tree line at the bottom of the steps. Thankfully, enough light from the sunset illuminated the pathway, lighting up the places to put my feet so as not to trip or wrench an ankle on the ancient stones.
Once back in town, I managed to get down to the village early enough to grab a bite to eat before heading to the beach, pausing along the street to help an elderly grandmother carry paper lanterns along the way. Since she and her family were headed in the same direction, why not help out. I knew I would be late and Cosar pissed, but the smiles and happy sounds from the children of the family were enough of a reward for me.
Chapter Three
>A smooth stretch of beach, and a wooden stage erected in the center, defined the O-Bon dancing area. On the stage, three large Taiko drums were arranged to get the best resonance out of them, yet also remain in complete harmony with the waves crashing against the rocks. I noticed everything had been set up far enough from the water so the high tide wouldn’t reach the celebration. I smiled, such a good night for a celebration like this. Everything felt good until I caught sight of Sara and Cosar. She did not look happy and he looked way too smug for me. Something definitely went wrong in paradise sometime between leaving The Great Buddha and arriving here at the dance.
After placing the lanterns where the small family wanted them, I asked if it was all right to photograph the family. Everyone lined up around their colorful lanterns and smiled for me. One of the children had a sparkle, which she waved about. The digital got the family and the interesting patterns of the sparkler in front of everyone. They loved that one and made me promise to have the picture sent to them the moment it came back, printed and framed. The grandmother patted me on the arm and bowed formally to me. I returned the bow and would’ve said something, but the drums started the moment the last light of the sun left the sky, leaving it awash in darkness. Soon, however, the clouds receded and left it looking like a velvet tablecloth with a million tiny diamonds scattered over it. Over it all glowed a giant pearl of a full moon. All in all, a glorious night for a dance. The first deep bass tones of the Taiko drums set the tempo for the rest of the night.
Everyone gathered around a small pile of wood in the center of the dancing area. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, someone lit the wood, making the flames leap to the sky. I stood rooted to the spot just outside the circle of people. I couldn’t look away from the bonfire as a cold sweat broke out on my skin. Backing up into the darkness so as not to be seen, my body began to shake uncontrollably. The cries of joy coming from the crowds became screams of pain and suffering from the past. Phantom pain shot through my chest where the brand lay etched in my skin. Fire. It was too much. Turning my head to a small depression in the sand, my stomach emptied itself onto the ground until only dry heaves held me in its grip. Dammit! Will I ever be free of this? I mentally cursed.
When I could stand and pull off something near to normal function, I looked around for my sis and her fiancé, and found him drinking from a sake cup. Sara stood on the other side of the dancing ground, moving in time with the music. Swiftly falling back into a professional mode, I took photos of the notable political people in the group, knowing the more photos delivered to my boss, the more money in the paycheck. Included in the shots were pictures of the Taiko drummers, the stage, the people around it, anything to make the photo-spread more appealing to the general masses. Fortunately, while my mind remained on business, it didn’t think about the fire. The benefits of being so focused on my job. I paused at one point, startled. Staring across the vast expanse of dancers was the man that bumped my elbow earlier in the day. My gaze apparently surprised him because he quickly looked away. Bringing my camera up for a shot, intending to capture his face for later perusal, but a group of brightly dressed dancers blocked my view, spoiling the shot. When they moved on, the myst
ery man had disappeared.
I started to reload my camera with a fresh roll of film when a hand descended on my shoulder and the strong scent of Sake permeated the air around me. The stench of the rice wine invaded my nostrils, causing me to breathe through my mouth, making my empty stomach rebel. Shrugging off the hand, I turned to face the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of Cosar Mentari. Arrayed behind him, the rest of his Japanese cohorts appeared to be in the same condition. “Enough pictures. Dance!” His words slurred, one into another, making me wonder how many bottles of Sake or other alcohol he had imbibed since this morning.
I looked him in the eye, “Cosar, I got hired to do a job. If I don’t do my job, I don’t get paid...” A shove on my shoulder interrupted my explanation.
“You’ll do as I say, woman. You will dance, now!” Anger tinged his drunken words. “Because you won’t be taking any more pictures on this trip!”
I lowered my voice, as it always happens when I’m about to tell someone to perform unnatural acts on themselves without the benefit of KY jelly, “Cosar, you don’t sign my paycheck. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do when it concerns my job.” I took a step backwards, out of his reach, but I didn’t count on his quickness. His hand snaked out and snagged my thirty-five mm from my hand, threw it on the ground, then stomped on it. Silly me, assuming that alcohol would make him slow. “I said no more pictures!” He ground his boot into the telephoto lens, breaking the glass and grinding the broken fragments of my favorite camera into the sand.
As adrenaline rushed to my brain, my eyes targeted which body parts to hit first. One good thing about having a cop for a father, you learn a lot about how to defend yourself. Another one is learning really fast, how to take the good parts of many martial arts forms. The parts that work for you, at least, and make them into a unique fighting form all your own. Something must have shown in my eyes, because his circle of friends immediately started dragging him off into the swirl of dancing. “Asshole,” I muttered under my breath, then knelt to clean up the pieces of my broken camera. “At least it only had a new roll of film in it.”
After disposing of the shattered remains, I decided to use this time to get some dancing in. No use making a fuss about the camera until later. Besides, the beat of the Taiko began matching time with my heartbeat, sinking into my skin as if it were a soothing balm to the soul. My final thoughts before my feet touched the moonlight kissed sand were of my digital camera, safely tucked in a hip pouch. I paused to look at the ebb and flow of the dance, and tried to get the dance steps down in my mind. My rescue came in the form of a group of small children. They came out of the crowds to lead me in the steps to the delight of onlookers and the parents. I smiled and laughed as their small voices added encouragement to my feet. Fortunately, the children led me away from the bonfire. Their laughter at my fumbling steps loosened some of the tension that rode my shoulders.
The children left about the time the moon rose high in the sky, and I found myself dancing with the crowds around the stand. Or, for me, it became an inward moving spiral that moved closer and closer to the wooden stage. My good mood ended after bumping into my sister. She moved in the dance, only it looked more like an unsteady shuffle to a broken tune. My hands reached out to grab her before she fell. Thankfully, she had removed her stiletto heels for the dance. Moving in soft sand is a bitch when you try to do it in high heels. I turned her slowly so she faced me with her back to the stage. “Sara, what has... “I stopped because the look on her face left me speechless. The firelight illuminated a mass of nasty bruises decorating her face while her eyes wore a glazed look of someone stoned on drugs, or too much to drink. As there wasn’t any odor of alcohol clinging to her clothing, I knew it had to be drugs.
She raised one hand to her hair and blinked several times, “Terri?” she tried to focus. “Terri, I’m not feeling too good. I need to sit down for a bit.”
My blood started to boil. “Sis, let’s sit you down right here.” I helped her to sit on the stairs leading up to the drumming stage and my hand went for the digital camera. “Who… who did this to you?” my voice came out in a harsh growl as the camera focused on her face and got visual evidence for the local authorities.
At the first flash of the camera she hid her face. “No… don’t,” she pleaded in a broken voice that I had never heard her use before. “Don’t. It’s my fault. I… I made Cosar angry. I said things that I shouldn’t have. I embarrassed him! Please, don’t… just don’t say or do anything.”
I lowered the camera, and looked around for the sadistic bastard. “Sara, I have to know. Did he give you anything? Any drugs?”
An angry shout made me turn just as she whispered, “Yes.” My eyes spotted Cosar bullying his way through the crowds, eyes shining bright with rage. “Sara, get out of here, now. Because if he’s forcing you into drugs, he’s not worth it.”
She stood quickly and placed a hand on my shoulder just as he reached me and put a fist in my face. I heard the soft crunch of my nose collapsing in on itself and felt the salty tears of pain as they rolled down my face. The punch, and my staggering backwards, clinging to my camera, saved my life. Cosar grabbed Sara and turned her away from the crowds of people who had stopped dancing to stare in curiosity. We were both facing the stage when the whole thing erupted into a massive fireball, sending pieces of wood, drum, flesh and bone into the closely packed dancers. It seemed as if time itself had slowed to a crawl.
The last vision burned in my mind while flying backwards. The image of my sister’s face, shredded and melting by the ensuing blast and the flying splinters would haunt my nightmares for the years to come. For Cosar, a very large piece of wood entered his back and exploded out the front of his chest, covered in blood. As he fell forward, the rest of it pointed straight up out of his back as if someone had pounded it through him, then into the ground. Darkness crept over my conscious mind as the impact of sharp objects hitting my body and the pain drove all other thoughts from my head.
Then the peaceful dark of nothingness sucked me away before my body hit the ground.
****
Consciousness returned in a confusing flurry of sensations. At first, the scent of burning flesh and the acrid tang of freshly spilled blood reached my broken nose. Then the sound of screams and sirens. I opened my eyes, or tried to. One refused to open. I had a weight on my chest. I didn’t want to look, yet I knew if I didn’t it would only add to the anguish of the moment. There, on my chest, I saw the top of a child’s head. I moaned. “Please no.” Images of the mountain village flashed before my eye until I recognized the torn kimono she wore. The girl with a sparkler in the family photo.
Trying to move my left arm brought blinding agony racing up and down that limb. My right, however, was movable, though covered in blood. I reached up to move her hair out of the way, almost passing out with relief as the little girl whimpered and moved. Turning her head, she looked at me with eyes filled with pain and shock. I managed a passable question in Japanese while pain ravaged my body, making it hard to think, let alone speak. “Are you okay?” The little girl gasped as she tried to move. Looking down, I saw her leg twisted oddly and bone showed through a hideous tear in the skin. It made my own pain fade a little bit. Concentrate on the little girl, I thought, don’t think of your own injuries. Stay conscious and keep her talking. Putting my own pain aside, I looked her in the eyes. “What is your name? I never got to ask after I took the photo. My name is Terri.” Sirens screamed in the distance, each moment of sound brought it nearer to where we were. Each moment gave a little more hope to getting this girl some help.
“I’m Michiko.” Her voice tearful as she continued. “You were dancing very well before it happened.”
I nodded slowly, mindful of the pain to the left side of my face. “And I remember you as one of the group of mischief makers helping to keep me from embarrassing myself by tripping over my own two feet.” The sirens were almost on top of us, at least that’s how it sounded. “Te
ll me, Michiko. Where is your family?” Please... Oh please, let them be all right, I prayed silently.
Michiko looked up behind me and smiled, “They’re all right!” she waved frantically at them, then cried out as her movements jarred the leg. “They’re coming over. Grandmother is staying where she is.”
Quickly, I put a hand over Michiko’s leg wound to prevent it from doing any more damage to the skin and muscle, then laid back just as the flashing lights of emergency vehicles arrived. “How old are you, Michiko?” Don’t black out just yet. Make sure she’s safe, I told my body.
Her family finally arrived just as she said, “I’m ten.” She beamed a smile, half a grimace of pain and half grin. The firelight from the bonfire behind her cast her black hair in a halo of light, making her look more like an angel, than an injured little girl.
The firemen arrived and took one look at me before spouting out instructions way too fast for my fading consciousness to follow. They totally ignored Michiko, which pissed me off to no end. I looked at the emergency team and demanded. “Take her first! She needs it more than I do.” Moving my hand just enough to show them the extent of the damage, I stared deep into the man’s eyes. “Please… Get her out of here. She’s suffered enough.”
He finally looked away, to the parent’s relief, gently took the girl, and wrapped her leg. Once stable, they took her away from what should have been a celebration to welcome the spirits of the dead back to the land of the living. Instead, the dead started to welcome new spirits into their world.
Taylor, Diane Page 2