by Arturo Silva
–Deed I do.
–What do we do today? Shall we at least get dressed?
–Nakedness is dressed.
–Nakedness is dressing.
–Nakedness is the full serving.
–Servicing?
–It’s a term, but not ours. What did Kazuko say? “We’re all lucky.” If only Gertrud had thought so.
–In the end, I think she did.
–Ya’ know, Carole did admit that Irene Bullock is tragic in a way, didn’t she? So maybe Carl Theodor is a humorist in some weird – tarpezoidal – way. Maybe.
–Maybe. Are there any films on?
–In this burg? Maybe. … No, don’t get dressed just yet. It’s a beautiful day – let’s linger.
–“Linger.” You’ve changed. A year or more ago I’d have had to fight to keep you in bed, indoors, doing nothing.
–People change. You have too. A year or more ago you’d already be out – wandering, doing all that stuff you used to do – you know, drinking with VZ and changing the world, sizing it up to your size, all that be modern or be a wallflower stuff … And me? Yes, I can stay in bed if I want. Home gets closer and closer. Even in Tokyo.
–Serenity?
–Oh, I don’t know that I’d call it that. But I’d call it something.
–Call it you.
–You call it.
–Roberta.
–Lang.
––
––
–Let’s go out?
–Where? It’s a big city.
–Oh, it’s not so big.
[Sounds of kissing, dressing, kissing, door closing, kissing. View of the city.]
***
Weary blues, Kazuko thinks to herself, recalling a song she’d once heard Lang singing to himself. Flophouses, cheap saké, weary friendly faces. Why aren’t they more hostile, she thought as she gazed at the men and women in Sanya, where she’d come with a friend who wanted to show her a part of Tokyo she’d been missing. They’d made her feel welcome, she did not feel herself the Kyoto lady here, but a part of something more, a part of their scene even here … and the larger scene that was Tokyo and all of her and their lives in it. She was leaving Kyoto – oh not completely, not forever, it was home, but now and forever, Tokyo would be home too.
–Kazuko?
–Oh, sorry, I was thinking about some friends. Is it time to go, what time is it?
***
AUGUST
–Here, look at this.
S
u
n
s
e
t
!
!
e
s
i
r
n
u
S
–Shouldn’t they be side by side? Your phallo-vaginal exclamation?
–Hmm, maybe you’re right. How about this:
sunr
eyes
–A new kanji maybe.
–Maybe.
[Much later.]
–Amazing.
–What is?
–Oh, that you’re still the same –
–but different, and –
–I’m different, but –
–the same.
–Talking in circles? No, spirals from now on. Dizzying –
–– Dazzying. Daffy –
–– Dames. The he and the she of we.
–Grand times.
–Splendors and miseries. But all grand.
[Sound of cicadas, crows.]
–Tofu seller? Knife sharpener?
–Before our time, Lang. You’ve been reading too much, it’s gotten to you.
–You’ve gotten to me. Never thought I’d like your old city so well. So, is this going to be an American happy ending?
–Oh, you Euros – just because we like one maybe too often enough doesn’t mean we believe in ’em. And besides, you could use one. They don’t all have to be so somber. Old, suffering world. It’s a young and sweet one, too.
–You’re probably right. – Ok, you are. But do you really think one can walk and talk too much, or that I do?
– Sometimes – sometimes I think so, that is. That is, if it’s at the neglect of … oh, of … of the … oh, you know – everything else, the mix, the hoopla ... the craziness at our doorstep, at our bedstep …
–At the all of it.
–At the all of it. Dizzying, spiralling. You know, I never thought I’d come to like your side of the city too – or either. I see your point. … We change sides – same but different. Maybe America’s an old world by now too. Maybe. But the new one’s here, now, you and me.
–“You and me” – isn’t that a clothing line? Or a café? Or a stationery company?
–Or a canned drink, or a magazine? – Or a couple even? You know, I’ve even picked up one of your habits. I’ve made a checklist of all the temples in the area – and believe me, there are plenty.
–I’ve noticed.
–And anyway, I’m trying to visit them all. Some Zen ones, too. Maybe you’d want to do some sitting with me some time. What do you think?
–Sure, I think so. But can couples sit together?
–We wouldn’t “sit together.” I’m sure there are no rules against it. No, you just sit. Turn off, everything. The all of it. Or try to. And then the gong clangs. Bang! Back in the world. Old and new, same but for a moment very different. Sitting, that stillness is also dizzying.
–I’m in.
–I thought you would be, I’m glad. So, anyway, what do you think? Want to visit a temple with me?
–Now?
–Why not?
–Yes.
[They kiss.]
[They kiss again.]
–August. August in Japan. What a time.
–August in – as you say it – Tokio.
–There oughta be a song.
–“August in Tokyo” – hmm, the title doesn’t really ring. What’s it like in Japanese? “Hachigatsu Tokyo”? “Tokyo Hachigatsu”? Hmm … “August in Japan”
–No, Tokio only.
–We met in August, remember?
–And you left in August.
–You didn’t have a plane ticket, remember?
–Negligent of me.
–Right.
–I know – “August, Tokyo” – like a date, a time and place.
–It opens with cicadas …
–No, that’s the happy sound.
–Cicadas are happy?
–I’m not sure. But all that energy –
–Beating their wings to death?
–Ok, ok, but they are August. And yes, energy.
–Ok. So what then, at the beginning?
–Crows. “Caw-caw!” It starts out somber –
–– and ends with the cicadas, wistful –
–– filled with promise. The heat burns into you, everything comes out, you just spill, drip –
–– this song’s getting a bit too graphic.
–No, you know what I mean.
–I know – I’m joking – I think.
–You know: the Sun! Even in the city, there’s only the Sun! You have to confront something elemental. It seems to attack, but then you realize it’s actually life-giving, invigorating. You’re down to essentials – and you love it. Memory, the body – the heat is on you.
–It’s getting on me. Come here a minute.
[They kiss.]
–Ok, so we have a sad beginning with crows, and at the end a sort of happy ending with cicadas – but are crows seasonal? And once the cicadas fade do we head into cold and darkness?
–No, no, we head into you and me: the heat, both of them, then the cool of Autumn; followed by Winter in Tokio – another great song we ought to write – you were the first to tell me how beautiful Winter is here
–Our “Winter’s Tale” – reborn.
–Yes. We’ll write that song too. “A Winter’s Tokio Tale.” But first, “August.�
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–Well, we have the sound effects for the beginning and end. What about the middle?
–Didn’t Buster say that the middle always took care of itself?
–So, we’re the middle?
–We’re the lyrics. You’re my middle.
–And you’re my –
–Let me get some paper – where’s the next temple?
–?
–Let’s go. We can write the lyrics as we go along.
–Tempura too?
–All of it. Looks like we’ve got work to do.
–This sounds like fun!
–Rhymes with –