Читать книгу Samurai Awakening - Ben Martin - Страница 8

The Matsumoto Estate

April,

What is nothing? If you really think about it, can you imagine nothingness? Not black, white, or any other void, but complete non-existence? If you are one of the rare ones, if you can grasp that slippery idea, then maybe you will begin to understand what it was like…

He was still not sure how it had happened. Even when his sister got in trouble, David had been able to avoid fighting. Bleeding from at least five different injuries was a wholly new experience, and with the broken bones in his hand, he was having an absurdly bad day at the end of an incomprehensibly bad month.

From the front seat of the black Mercedes, Yukiko passed another critical eye over him as he pulled at his uniform collar. His Japanese clothes never fit him quite right. With a slam that rocked the whole car, Masao Matsumoto closed the driver’s door. As usual, his host father was impeccably dressed in a traditional kimono and the sleek sedan came to life with a quiet purr.

Within seconds, the car was tearing along a maintenance road through the forest behind Nakano Junior High. Masao bit off a string of quick Japanese as they raced through the blind turns of the darkening forest road.

“Masao would like to know what happened,” Yukiko said in perfect English. His host mother sat as serenely and composed as ever in her brightly colored clothing despite the high speed driving. Unlike Masao, her kimono was bright and colorful, with an array of light flowers that enhanced her delicate features. To either side of him, his host siblings Rie and Takumi slid into him with each turn. He was sure he looked strange plopped down between the stunning pair. David was bruised, bloody, and stuffed between two diminutive thirteen-year-olds that could have been on the cover of any sports magazine.

“Uh,” David said. Masao turned around to look at David, which was extremely frightening given the trees rushing by. In a desperate attempt to get Masao’s eyes back on the road, David spoke quickly. “I ran into a couple of third years.”

Rie leaned over him, unleashing a quick stream of Japanese at Takumi, who merely shrugged in reply. Yukiko smiled, encouraging David to continue. Luckily, he knew the twins would have no idea what he was saying. Their grasp of English, even after a year of studying it, was about as good as his nonexistent Japanese.

David told her about the fight. He had caused the third years’ team to lose, again. They had not picked him, instead, their teacher Mr. Shima, had assigned him to the team as a kind of handicap. David had done his job a little too well. His chronic lack of coordination was something he had almost considered a blessing back in the Phoenix desert, where the hot summers made running any distance painful. In Japan though, his apathy towards sports had become a liability.

They had found him behind the gym after school. The three boys were older than David’s thirteen years, and full of hard-coiled muscle. He had smiled weakly and looked for the twins, but somehow they had been separated on the way to meet up after school. He was sure it was no accident.

The anger and hate on the oldest boy’s face had been easy enough for him to understand. He tried to bolt, but they surrounded him in a close circle almost instantly. Then the pushing began.

As usual, he did not retaliate as they bounced him from bully to bully. He had tried to stay calm, to take it. He hoped that if he did not give them a reaction, they would soon grow bored and leave him alone.

In a lull, the oldest boy, Koji, caught David’s eye. He stood there for a minute as two of his friends closed in behind. When Koji smiled, it was a smile he had seen before in Arizona. It reminded him of a boy who liked to pull the tails off lizards. Koji held up the picture that David had brought in for a report on his family. The one picture he had of his whole family, still together. Though David could not understand his words, Koji’s eyes were clear enough.

It was like a switch, they had found the one thing that could set him off. The chance Koji could ruin the one picture he had of his mother released a torrent of fire with him. He broke. The weeks of frustration, loneliness, and rage blurred in his mind as his body reacted without thought. Screaming, David had lashed out, his hand striking Koji square in the chin.

Pain had washed through his hand and arm as he fell to his knees in agony. Koji, unfazed, took the opportunity to throw a few quick punches of his own before kicking him the rest of the way to the ground. The boys had laughed, then rolled him down the hill to the forest’s edge and left him there, curled in a ball around his broken hand.

Takumi and Rie had found him a few minutes later, still crumpled on the ground, crying like some elementary student. The shame was almost worse than the pain. He wanted to disappear. Rie helped him up, and the pity in her deep almond eyes had been almost more unbearable than his hand. Takumi had stood apart. It was a first to see his host brother so calm at school, and then David saw his eyes. A new and dangerous element in them made David shudder.

It took a while for Masao and Yukiko to get there after Takumi’s call. They had driven in through the forest. David was not sure if they had done it to save him the embarrassment of having to walk through the school, or if they simply wanted to avoid creating an incident. Whatever the reason, he was glad.

David stopped talking and the car skidded out of the forest onto a much larger main road. Yukiko had already set his hand. From her serene and formal dress, you would never know she had been a nurse. David tried to remember his own mother, but his memories of her had faded into a distant shadow. He was a toddler in the picture. Jessica was a newborn. The images of her faded even as he tried to grasp at them. In the front, Yukiko began translating David’s story into Japanese.

David recognized the road as the main street between Nakano and Himeji. Not far from Japan’s inland sea, the Matsumotos lived on an estate just outside of Nakano town, which was in a valley surrounded by tall mountains. It reminded David of a smaller, greener version of home.

He had left his sister Jessica, and his father Dr. Matthews, nearly a month before on a whim to study in Japan. A last minute opening in the exchange program had had him hustling to prepare in time to leave for the beginning of the Japanese school year in April. A month ago, David had driven down the road with excitement. Now he felt defeated, not just by the boys, but by Japan. He had tried, but nothing he did had helped him worm his way into any group. Most of his classmates had written him off when they discovered he only snowboarded, poorly. At the Estate, the Matsumotos had been welcoming and friendly, but only Yukiko spoke English and the rest of them kept to themselves.

Masao turned the car onto a narrow, but well maintained dirt road. They had arrived at the Estate. Without the spring sun, the trees were old and foreboding. The forest seemed more of a barrier to David than the ancient stone wall that came into view when the car skidded around the long drive’s final curve. Sliding along the seat brought David back to the present. He was in an alien land and could barely say hello.

The Estate’s wall rose like a dark cliff. Rough in design and old with lichen, it was still elegant in its own way. A huge gate stood in the center of the road. Wide enough to let two cars through simultaneously, it was welcoming and imposing at the same time. Two huge wooden doors covered the road, while stone and wood supported the overhanging roof above. Tiered eaves with elegant curves and dark clay tiles bespoke their ancient purpose to repel rain and arrows alike.

As the car approached the gate, Masao finally slowed. Although he had seen it many times over the last month, he was still struck by the view as the heavy doors parted.

Beyond the gate, the main house rose before them, a single level with a tiled roof. As with the outside gate, the Matsumotos’ main house followed traditional Japanese design. With both wood and modern materials, it was a seamless combination of functionality and art.

Behind the House was the Estate’s jewel, a Japanese garden complete with brook, pond, and stone bridge. Each miniature tree had been shaped into specific, asymmetric designs. Rocks and boulders were strategically located along with grasses and flowers. The pond wove through it all, fed by the brook, tying the separate elements of the garden together. It was both more beautiful and yet more alien than anything David had seen before.

The garden was flanked by the Estate’s other two main buildings, creating a kind of open-ended square. When he had first arrived, Yukiko had shown David the dojo and workshop. She had explained that the Matsumotos were both sword makers and masters of kendo—the Japanese martial art focusing the use of swords. The Estate also contained a few other odd buildings, sheds, and mysteries David had yet to explore.

He spent hours of his free time sitting among the garden’s trees, trying not to worry about his little sister and father. Jessica was probably busy keeping their eccentric father from blowing himself up with his latest experiment.

‘But I’m not there to keep her out of trouble. Maybe that’s why I swung at that bastard Koji.’ David thought as the gate’s doors closed behind him.

As the car pulled around the front of the house, the old man David knew only as Grandpa came out to meet them. He stood tall despite his advanced age. His jet-black hair lightly streaked with gray, Grandpa had a ready smile and an energy that made him seem far younger than his eighty-five years. When they had first met, David had thought him only in his early fifties. It had taken him nearly two weeks to figure out that ojiisan was not a title or even his name. It was Grandpa in Japanese. The old man smiled, radiating gentleness and a deep but secret wisdom as he walked forward to meet the car.

“よかった、おじいさんは ちょうど 準備が終わったところだ,” Masao said in his usual fast Japanese. As usual, David struggled and failed to comprehend a word. Masao tended to be clipped and direct, his words aimed with precision, especially when at his children. To David’s surprise, Masao turned around again in his seat and stared at David. Beside him, the twins froze. “ダビッド君は日本のこと分からないな. 明日か ら 手ほどきしよう.”

Luckily, Yukiko was nearly always ready to interpret. As a nurse and she had been required to study foreign languages and her English was impeccable. She was constantly trying to make David feel more comfortable. After a few more words between her and Masao, she turned to David.

“David, do you want to see something special tomorrow?” Yukiko asked.

“Sure,” he answered. It was not often that the Matsumotos extended invitations to him, and he had noticed extra work going on around the Estate the last few days.

“Grandpa has just finished his preparations to begin a new sword. As part of that process, tomorrow morning we will have a ceremony at the Matsumoto shrine. Please come.” Yukiko smiled as warmly as ever. “It’s nice to be able to invite you to a family event few outsiders have ever seen.”

David smiled. The pain from his hand and bruises momentarily forgotten, he looked out at the lively old man. David never knew if Grandpa understood him. He always stared until David broke down and attempted Japanese. Although he had only known him for a short time, and did not speak the same language, Grandpa made him feel like part of the family.

“とても 面白いですよ. 君はこの儀式を見る初めての外国人だよ,” Takumi said. Takumi occasionally tried to use the English he had picked up during his first year of junior high, but normally just settled for speaking his usual quick Japanese. When David gave one of his usual stares of incomprehension, Takumi added a lot of gesturing. Rie was a bit more helpful as she generally tried to speak more slowly.

“ダビッド君、 いっしょに 行こうか,” Rie added, opening the car door. The twins were interesting. Unfortunately, the language and cultural barriers had kept David from getting to know them. As they got out of the car, David felt another twinge of loneliness. He missed having his sister around. She was two years younger and often annoying, but Jessica knew him better than anyone else did.

Rie reminded him of her a little bit. Shorter than David, she was thin and willowy, yet had a grace and strength born from constant competition with Takumi in both martial arts and school. With long black hair and deep brown eyes, Rie had her mother’s looks and poise, yet giggled at the strangest moments. Takumi, with jagged short black hair and wearing a badminton shirt, looked like he had just stepped out of a sports wear commercial. Strongly muscled yet still lean and lithe, Takumi was a study in contradictions. Serious at the Estate, he remained confident and driven at school, but was also as entertaining as any of their classmates.

David slowly slid out behind Takumi. He was taller and wider than the twins, with skin that had never tanned since he had preferred staying indoors in Arizona. In school and town, his skin, hair, and lack of Japanese were all obvious signs that singled him out as a gaijin, a foreigner. In Japan, being a gaijin literally meant you were an “outside person.” It was not only David’s looks that set him apart. David hated how he seemed to lumber along, his lack of coordination all the more apparent next to the twins.

As heirs to the Matsumoto name and Estate, Rie and Takumi both practiced kendo every morning. As junior high school students in Japan, they were expected to participate in afterschool activities as well. Since Nakano was a relatively small town that meant sports. Both Rie and Takumi played on the school badminton team. The confidence and ability they possessed from their martial arts and sports activities came out in every step they took. Takumi had invited David to both activities, but David preferred sleeping in as late as possible.

After a week of David replying, “Maybe tomorrow,” Takumi had given up. Rie had more luck, introducing David to badminton with an almost grim determination on weekend afternoons. With plenty of time to sleep in, David was far more willing to go outside and hit a shuttle around behind the dojo.

“ちょっと待ってダビッド君,” Rie called from the car as David limped for the house. His own name at least, though “Japanized” David understood. Stopping to think, Rie screwed up her face into a mask of concentration, until, giving up she turned to her mother. Yukiko hefted her shopping bag and a quick stream of Japanese flowed between them before an elegant pivot of her head brought him back into their conversation.

“The day before a ceremony, Rie and Takumi must help prepare,” Yukiko said. “Unfortunately, only the Matsumotos and their apprentices may do these things. Rie says she is sorry that they were unable to stop the students who hurt you. Shall we go have a better look at your wounds before I start dinner?”

Guiding David to the main door, Yukiko stopped to give an elegantly low bow to Grandpa. Smiling warmly, Grandpa seemed to ignore David’s disheveled state as he slapped his shoulder, jostling David’s hand. With a laugh as David blinked through the pain, Grandpa joined Masao and the twins as they walked around the left side of the house for the workshop.

That night David lay awake for a long time. He looked around his darkened room, considering his life.

‘I can’t believe how strange the Matsumoto’s reactions always are,’ he thought as sleep eluded him. ‘They all but ignored the fight. I wasn’t grounded or in any trouble. Back in the States, I probably would have been expelled.’

Anger surged again within him. David had recovered his picture, but it was dirty and scratched. Koji would pay for that.

‘Not with my family,’ he thought. Even as his rage solidified into a hard knot of determination in his chest, the shame of his injury froze it to a brittle shell.

Alone in the back corner of the main house, David was in the only four-walled bedroom. His refuge and island of western culture now seemed an isolated prison cell.

‘And the twins would probably rather die than be seen with me,’ he thought as sleep finally claimed him.