“You probably say that to all the women.” She blushed, but he couldn’t see that. “I’m glad you like my cooking.”
He seemed so perfect to her all of a sudden. She was blinded by her feelings. For a moment, she forgot that he was there for treatment. It all seemed to make sense—Ben sitting opposite her, his eyes blindfolded and his arms tied behind his back, as if it were his natural state. She reached her hand to caress his cheek. Her hand was soft and warm, and he leaned his head against it.
She went on feeding him the risotto. She didn’t feel as hungry and ate less than him.
“So, you usually only date models, don’t you?” she asked, and then regretted the stupid question.
He shrugged and shook his head.
“Oh, really? Have you ever dated a real woman?” She didn’t think before she continued. “Eh, I mean a woman who didn’t just step out of a fashion catalog?” She felt like she was getting more and more tangled in this topic. “Eh… You don’t have to answer this question. I’m sorry I asked it… Unless you want to.” She didn’t know what had gotten into her.
But he nodded in reply.
“Someone I can look up on the Internet?”
He shook his head because he knew she wouldn’t find anything about that imaginary woman.
Shira was happy, and Ben felt satisfied with how things were going lately. He felt like he was back in his own court, allowing her to continue to make her small innuendos. They both went to bed feeling good.
As he lay on his mattress, like he did every night that week, his memories from Japan resurfaced in his mind. The situation he was in reminded him of that time, and he wanted very much to relive it.
❧
His studies with the sensei had begun, and he was in the middle of his first year of study. He didn’t get along with the other young men at school. They realized very quickly that he was a spoiled, rich, and ruthless youth, even though he tried to act differently for the first time in his life. He longed to please the sensei so that the teacher would not throw him out. He knew it was his very last chance before his father sent him to a military academy.
The other boys knew Ben’s language as well as Japanese. He hadn’t yet practiced his Japanese and didn’t understand them when they whispered behind his back or spoke about him in his presence.
One day, before morning practice, he was walking down the school hallway toward the studio when he noticed a beautiful girl standing near the wall and waiting. A large framed picture of an old man with lots of Japanese scripture hung next to her.
His heart beat fast as he approached her. “Hi. I’m Ben. What’s your name?”
The girl giggled.
Katsuo, the school’s top student, appeared around the corner and approached them. He drew close to the girl and whispered something to her in Japanese. Ben realized she was either his girlfriend or a very close friend.
“My name Kiyoko,” she said with a Japanese accent. “Nice to meet you.” She shook Ben’s hand.
Her eyes were fixed on his face. During his time in Japan, he had turned into a handsome, striking man. Katsuo didn’t like his friend’s gesture, especially because she didn’t know Ben and his character. He tried to explain to her in Japanese to stay away from Ben, and that he was no good for her, but she lingered on.
“Are you starting to study with us?” Ben asked jokingly, ignoring Katsuo’s behavior.
“Not today.” Kiyoko giggled again. He smiled at her and she melted. Katsuo tried to leave and pull her by the hand, but she insisted on staying. Katsuo looked angry. He muttered something in Japanese, turned, and punched the wall opposite him with incredible force. The picture hanging there swung, fell off the wall, and shattered. The glass fragments scattered on the floor. The three of them ran off in a fright.
“I want to know who is responsible for the damage done in the hallway today,” The sensei demanded sternly. All four students sat on the mattress in the studio, waiting for the practice to begin. They sat in a straight line opposite the teacher, with Ben and Katsuo on either end of the line.
“Someone must take responsibility for it!” he continued.
They realized the practice would not begin until the matter was settled.
“It’s impossible that I handpicked you one by one, like kernels of rice, yet none of you will take responsibility!” His voice registered disappointment. Katsuo turned his head to take a quick peek at Ben. The sensei noticed him and turned to look at Ben suspiciously.
“What? It wasn’t me!” Ben said when he saw the accusatory look he knew so well.
The instructor sighed. “Well, we’re not continuing our practice until the responsible person comes forward,” he said calmly. “I’ll be in my office.” He left the studio.
After he was gone, all eyes turned to Ben.
“We know it’s you!” said Tomo angrily. “Who else could it be?”
“Yes. Ever since you arrived, you’ve been getting us in trouble with the sensei,” Masato said self-righteously. He remembered the last incident in which Ben got them into trouble with the sensei by breaking a clay pot while fighting them. The sensei claimed they were teasing him, and as punishment, he sent all of the students to pull weeds in the backyard all afternoon.
“But it wasn’t me!” Ben tried to defend himself again.
“I don’t understand why you were accepted to our school; you only cause trouble.” Tomo jumped in again. Ben realized no one was listening to him. He looked at Katsuo, who remained seated and quiet.
“Katsuo, maybe you should speak up?” Ben was angry.
Katsuo felt guilty, but he kept silent. He thought it was better that way, and maybe the sensei would finally expel Ben from the school for everyone’s benefit. Otherwise, he would have definitely taken the blame.
“It’s all your fault anyway!” Katsuo put the blame on Ben.
“Why you little loser.” Ben raged and attacked Katsuo. They wrestled with punches and kicks like they learned from their master, but not according to the rules. Katsuo had the upper hand, and he nearly broke Ben’s arm.
“That’s enough!” The sensei’s voice roared as he returned to the studio. The two opponents stopped, winded and gasping.
“Ben, come with me,” the teacher said quietly.
Katsuo released his grip on Ben.
“But… But…” Ben tried to explain while following the instructor outside.
The sensei began speaking after they sat down in his office. “Ben, how long have you been with us?”
The teen shrugged.
“Half a year?” The sensei said.
The youth nodded.
“In this half a year, you have improved your technique in aikido and in martial arts as a whole. But the only important lesson you managed to learn was on the day I accepted you into the school. That day you learned something important—you realized it was okay to admit your struggle and ask for help. I saw you willing to change for the better, and I accepted you into the school. But you haven’t really made any progress ever since. You are very aggressive, especially during partner practice, the most important practice of all. You can’t control your anger and you aren’t focused. You still allow emotions to guide you—anger, fear, and anxiety.”
“But I didn’t break the picture!” The boy couldn’t understand and tried to convince his teacher that he was behaving better.
“We’re going to take a break from studying,” The sensei decided. “I will teach you self-control and focus privately. You will have to pass a test, and only then will I let you back in school.”
Ben couldn’t change the instructor’s mind, but he was happy that the sensei would continue teaching him instead of getting fed up with him like they had at the other schools he had attended.
DAY 44
“Ugh, I can’t seem to write anything today.” Shira’s frust
rated voice was heard during Ben’s after-lunch introspection time. “I have no ideas. The hero is stuck on some remote beach, and I can’t think of a way to get him out of there. Do you have any thoughts?” She turned to him in desperation.
He shook his head. What a stupid question. He thought. But her query continued to ring in his head, and he felt as if he were the stranded character. The sound of the waves began to play in his ears, and he conjured up a vague memory from the beach in Japan, where the sensei had taught him a few lessons.
❧
“Now, Ben, we’re going to meditate,” said Sensei. They sat along a quiet, deserted coastline, where only the sound of the waves could be heard. “Sit cross-legged and relax your body like we did in the relaxation lessons. Think about your anger; try to understand where it comes from and why. Feel it…”
Ben tried to think of the times when he had experienced rage. The fury began to rise and become a tangible emotion.
“Now allow yourself to release it.” Said the sensei.
“What?” The indignation was taking over.
“Let it go,” the teacher said. “Stop it, subdue it—anything; just don’t let it overpower you. Take deep breaths and tell yourself that you are the one to decide, not the anger inside you.”
The teen found the exercise very difficult; he couldn’t stop thinking about those who’d upset him, nor could he find a reason to forgive them and forgo his anger.
Later, the same difficulty came up when they worked on fear and anxiety.
“Okay. That’s enough for today. Try to continue on your own, and we will meet here again tomorrow.” The sensei closed the first lesson after some time.
After a few days, during which Ben continued practicing relaxation with the sensei, it was time for his test. They met at the same spot on the beach, and the instructor led him to a more secluded spot.
Immersed halfway in the water, there was a large, rusty fish cage—a kind of memorial for the poor fishermen who’d lost their lives while trying to hunt food for their families many years before.
“Okay, enter the cage. When the tide comes, the water will slowly rise. You must remain inside until I tell you to come out,” said the sensei.
Ben did as instructed. Anxiety began to take hold of him. How long was he supposed to stay inside?
The tide started to come in and the water began to rise. Ben had to wiggle his head between the top bars so he could breathe.
“Excellent; that’s the technique,” said the sensei, standing on top of the cage, barefoot, with his pants rolled up. “Don’t worry; the water covers you for a moment and then you’ll be able to breathe again in between waves.”
Ben freaked out. He inhaled quickly, swallowed a lot of water, and choked. He felt like he was going to drown any minute. He dived inside and left the cage before his time was up.
“Good start!” The sensei noted. “It’s also your test. When you pass it, you can go back to school.”
They kept meeting every day, and Ben tried to remain inside the cage for longer each time. The test was very hard. He tried to disconnect from his body, not think about the water, the paralyzing fear of drowning, the burning muscles of his arms, or the difficulty in keeping his body and head close to the top bars.
“Don’t do that!” The sensei called out to him. “You must stay here, in the present and in your body.”
“But it hurts!” Ben was mad at his teacher’s irrational requests—asking him to control his breathing without swallowing water while experiencing prolonged pain.
“You should be happy it hurts—it means you’re still alive! If you disconnect, you’ll drown!”
Ben didn’t listen to the sensei and tried to disconnect from the horrible situation; he imagined a warm bed to sleep in. Another wave crashed over his head and he began to drown.
Ben woke up lying on the beach—his instructor had saved him.
“I think we should give up; you should go home,” The sensei suggested. His face registered his fear for his student’s life.
“No, no. Give me one more chance,” Ben requested weakly.
The sensei found it hard to refuse. “Okay. Practice the relaxation again, and we will meet here tomorrow for a final attempt.” The sensei sounded decisive.
The following day, Ben entered the cage again. The water began to rise.
“The idea is to disconnect from the emotions that are limiting you—disconnect from anger and fear. Stay centered in your body; control it with logic instead of fear. You know that after each wave comes a breath of air. You can swallow a little water here and there. Trust your body—it will know what to do.”
Ben took a deep breath and released the fear. The first wave came and covered his face. After it had passed, he inhaled fully. A little bit of water entered his mouth, but he spit it out. Another wave arrived, but this time he didn’t let panic paralyze him. He took another gulp of air once the water receded. His muscles didn’t hurt as much as they had the previous time, since he didn’t struggle to stay so close to the cage roof. As the water entered the enclosure again, he didn’t let terror overtake him; he trusted his body to know what to do.
He was afraid, but he didn’t let the emotion take control, thus the degree of difficulty decreased. He stayed in the cage until the water completely covered his face.
And he waited.
The sensei put his hand in the water, through the cage, and signaled him to come out.
As Ben swam out of the cage, he finally understood the lesson the sensei was teaching him about his true abilities and the power he had when he was calm and in control.
Ben was allowed back into school and continued practicing self-control exercises. Over time, he became a better student; he was calmer and started performing at an equal level to Katsuo—and then even better.
Katsuo and the rest of the students still resented him and fought him, but he managed to restrain himself and refrain from a physical confrontation with them. Nevertheless, he remained very aggressive in his technique. He unleashed his anger in the partner practices, especially on Katsuo, and the latter would always leave their joint practice with blue marks on his body.
The sensei was not happy about that.
DAY 51
After about a week, in one of their evening conversations, Shira happily told Ben that she’d made progress with her book.
“I had writer’s block, and all of a sudden I managed to make a lot of progress in one week,” she reported. “The hero of my book reached a pinnacle and is expecting to discover a new world there, but instead, he finds himself on a small, crowded piece of land. He finally realizes that the journey and anticipation of reaching the pinnacle were his source of happiness. Isn’t that genius?”
He smiled. He didn’t think it was genius. He thought her book handled a subject matter that had been chewed and spitted out one too many times.
“I shouldn’t have sent the agent the first chapter on its own—it doesn’t reflect anything. He probably didn’t understand what I was after.” She sighed. She was determined to write that book no matter what.
“Anyway…” Shira changed subjects. “…tomorrow is your thirtieth birthday!”
He had forgotten about it. He wasn’t able to keep track of dates, but he believed her, because he knew more or less how much time had passed.
“I think it’s a cause for celebration—your behavior has improved and you’re changing decades!” she said happily. “I have a present for you; I’m going to surprise you tomorrow.”
He nodded and smiled.
“Aside from what I planned, is there anything you’d like?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Except for being released.”
Ben thought for a moment, but he couldn’t come up with anything else he really wanted. He shook his head.
“All right. You’ll
still enjoy yourself, you’ll see,” she said in excitement.
DAY 52
The following day brought the usual routine until the evening. They sat down to eat a festive dinner Shira had prepared—Norwegian salmon with red potato, snow peas, and caramel martinis. She’d run around the city to find all the ingredients.
When they finished eating, she carried in a modest chocolate birthday cake sprinkled with colorful sweets and bearing candles.
“Blow out the candles,” she said.
Ben blew out some of the candles. Shira blew out the rest of them. She gave him a slice of the cake. The cake tasted great to him even though it was a simple homemade dessert.
“Wine?” she asked.
He nodded happily—he hadn’t touched alcohol since he began his treatment.
“Come to the living room, birthday boy. Your surprise is waiting there.” She put a party hat on his head and took him into the other room.
“Sit here on the beanbag in front of the TV. You’re going to listen to a stand-up I really like and I hope you do too.” She revealed the surprise. “I’ll join you in a minute; I’ll just make us some popcorn. Would you like some?”
He nodded. Ben hadn’t listened to TV, radio, or any other media during his stay.
Soft fluffy fur suddenly rubbed against him. It was Panda; he’d been left in the living room ever since that unpleasant incident. He felt the cat near his leg. He rubbed his foot against the animal’s soft fur. Panda purred.
Shira came back, popcorn in hand, happy to find Ben petting Panda. “I’m glad my two boys are finally getting along.”
She sat down next to him on a separate beanbag, and the show began. A woman on TV was talking humorously about daily issues and about relationships between men and women. Ben laughed every so often, and Shira was glad he was enjoying himself. She offered him popcorn and he munched on some.
After the show was over, she led him back to his spot. “Good night, birthday boy,” she said, and kissed his forehead.
The Light Between The Shadows Page 15