A JOURNEY TO THE EAST
By Richard Rivers
Day 2, Monday:
The night before, when we had stood side by side to each other and experienced a
moment of closeness, Megumi's manner had changed abruptly, as if she had
suddenly come to her senses. She quietly took her leave of me, almost before I
knew what she was saying, and I found myself standing alone on the bridge
watching the sun set, wishing she were still beside me.In the morning she had been all business, smiling and friendly but somehow
distant, as if a shadowy veil had fallen between us; it was nothing I could pin
down: I had only known her for two days. Now I sat on the low stone bench
letting the sun warm me, resting my eyes after several hours work. Megumi was
reviewing my progress as I waited. She would deliver my results to Mr Ogawa
that afternoon and report back to me his opinions so I had no choice but to sit
back and relax until that had taken place.Japan, I thought: how strange after thirty years to finally come here and not
be able to see any of it outside this estate. As an American of Japanese
descent, Japan had tantalized me all my life, yet I had never come.
Opportunities had presented themselves many times but something always held me
back: the time was never quite right, the trips were always deferred. The
mythic quality of Japan grew out of the idyllic stories my father told me in
childhood. They had been embellished in my imagination until the place came to
represent everything that was unattainable and remote, at once desirable and
hopelessly incomprehensible. Refusing to consummate my desire only strengthened
it, like an erotic longing, becoming more poignant as its object receded before
me as if in a dream.The day I arrived in Tokyo--only two nights ago--exhausted from the long flight
but too excited to sleep I had simply wandered the city aimlessly, boarding the
subway and getting off at random, losing myself in the crowds. How odd for the
first time in my life to be surrounded by people the same race as myself, yet
here I was truly the foreigner, out of place. Back home I thought of myself as
an American, nothing more, and it bothered me when people assumed that I was a
foreigner, asking me if I knew English, or where I came from. I felt as if I
lived behind a mask, this Asian face, which hid a person underneath who was just
like everybody else, or at least wanted to be. As I walked the crowded streets
of Tokyo I felt like an impostor, a spy behind enemy lines with an almost
perfect disguise. My only flaw is I don't speak a word of Japanese; it worried
me that someone might stop and speak to me, ask for directions and expose me.
My father had warned me too: not being able to speak the language was a great
disadvantage to me, much greater than if I looked like a westerner; as an
Americanized Japanese I would be regarded with scorn, as less than zero.***
Megumi made her way down the path towards where I sat; in her hand the briefcase
she carried looked so out of place with her flowing robe and wooden sandals."Good afternoon Mr Sato," she said as she sat beside me on the bench and lay the
case on the ground. Folding her hands in her lap she drew in a deep breath.
"You have made a very good start. I am just now on my way to Mr Ogawa to
discuss your morning's work."She had her hair up. Escaping, a few downy wisps trailed against the white skin
around her ears and along the side of her neck. I scarcely listened to her as
she summarized my work, letting my attention wander over her body, down her
graceful throat, delicate as a swan's, to the opening at the front of her robe
where the two small collar bones peeked out at me, rising and falling as she
spoke."Mr Ogawa will surely be pleased," she said at length, bending to retrieve the
briefcase. "Will you walk with me to the far end of the garden while I take
this to him?""Of course," I said. Rising, I offered her my hand. The touch of her warm soft
skin against mine made me shiver.We took a different path from the one we had walked the evening before, one that
skirted the far edge of the large pond and passed into a deeply shaded grove.
After walking silently for some time Megumi stopped and held up her hand."Look!" she whispered. I followed the direction of her gaze back through the
trees towards the water. A young girl was slowly walking along the edge of the
pond. Seemingly unaware of our presence she was looking the other way, out over
the water. We watched her secretly, as if noticing us might send her scampering
back into the forest like a wild fawn. She wore a dazzling white robe and her
hair hung down the middle of her back in one long braid. "It is Satomi, Mr
Ogawa's daughter," Megumi whispered.When the young girl had passed from our sight Megumi set off along the path
again. "She is very shy," she said still in a half whisper. "She knows a
stranger is here. Notice how she was not walking along the regular pathways:
she is afraid of running into you. Only sixteen: in another year or two she
will not be avoiding strange men in the garden any more, she will be seeking
them out." She gave me a sideways glance and laughed.When we emerged from the shaded grove Megumi stopped. "I will go on alone from
here Mr Sato. Mr Ogawa's house is just down the hill. When I have discussed
your findings with him I will return to the library later this afternoon." She
walked a few paces away before turning back to me. "Beware of the garden
Nymph!" she laughed.I stood enjoying the sight of Megumi's form disappearing down the hill before
turning back. Entering the shaded grove I slowed my pace, attentively searching
for a sign of the young girl, afraid that I might easily miss her, but also
nervous about meeting her suddenly face to face and startling her. The path
drew near to the pond, still densely shaded by trees; when I was deepest in
shadow I saw her again. With her back to me she knelt at the water's edge.
Leaning out she was gathering the lilies which floated close to the shore. I
watched as she grasped several of the plants and lay them on the ground beside
her. Each time she leaned over the water the robe pulled more tightly about her
lithe young body; the soft white bottoms of her bare feet emerged from below the
curve of her hips, her small toes laying on the green grass like a string of
pearls.I felt deeply aroused watching the girl, as if catching her in some secret,
forbidden act. Her motions were delicate and purposeful, sensual in their
femininity; as I saw her young hands curl and grasp the plants I imagined their
softness, the feel of them on my own body, grasping, tugging, gently uprooting.
Holding my breath I watched her gather as many of the lilies as she could reach
before she rose and carried them away, back in the direction of her house.***
That evening the moon rose over the pond; its soft reflection danced on the
rippling water. I leaned on the stone bridge looking down, thinking about my
day's work: Mr Ogawa was an exacting employer. He had sent Megumi back with
pages of revisions for me to do and I had worked long past supper time
incorporating his new ideas. Megumi's demeanor had changed when she returned.
Once again she seemed more distant, formal, not the same woman who had laughed
with me in the garden earlier; I wondered if I had displeased her in some way,
or if Mr Ogawa had spoken badly of me in their meeting.Without looking up I became aware of her beside me.
"You are up late Mr Sato," she said.
"Yes," I sighed. "I find it difficult to rest after hard work sometimes.
Strange, isn't it?""No, I don't think so," she answered. "The mind becomes agitated, entangled in
the problems of the day. It is best to seek some peace before sleeping.""I hope I haven't displeased Mr Ogawa...or you...in any way," I said, looking
away, embarrassed by my own words."Not at all," she said, touching my arm, bringing my attention back to her.
"Actually he was very pleased with your work so far, impressed even, and he is a
difficult man to impress, or to please." She looked down at the water flowing
beneath us. "Do not be troubled by all his changes and revisions to your work
Mr Sato: that is simply his way. The more he respects you the more he will push
you, test you. I know from personal experience how difficult he can be, how
frustrating he can make things. You are only here for a week. I have been with
him for years.""How do you manage?" I asked.
"Oh, I manage," she smiled. "I never let him dominate me. He is a powerful
man, and stubborn. He is used to getting what he wants, controlling whatever he
sees; he scrutinizes meticulously whatever he notices. My secret is just that I
don't let him see me, the real me, that is. I hide myself from his notice very
carefully so that he thinks he knows me, thinks he controls me, and he is happy.
I too am happy that way.""But who gets to see the real you?" I asked.
She laughed. "Ah, Mr Sato, the American. How fast everything in America goes!
You are...what do you call it...fishing, I believe."Suddenly the playful side of her had come the fore. I wondered which was really
her; the serious businesswoman who had spent two hours leaning over my shoulder
instructing me in the changes Mr Ogawa wanted implemented; or was it the serene
one who spoke of beauty, peacefulness, breathing deeply the scents of the
garden; or the playful creature who stood beside me now: perhaps all three,
perhaps none. I longed to know her better, and I began to wonder if her real
secret was that she hid nothing, living an honest and simple life, rising above
the petty the deceits afflicting the rest of the world. Suddenly I felt
foolish, like a child, unworthy of her."You fascinate me Mr Sato," she said. "Americans do. They always have, but you
even more so; you are so like us in some ways, when I look at you...but your
thoughts, your actions are not quite of this place. Somehow your Americanness
comes through. I don't know how to describe it." She looked at me intensely
for an instant before returning her gaze to the water below. "I've never met
such an un-Japanese Japanese person before."I had nothing to say to that: was she laughing at me? I wasn't sure.
"I'm sorry she said," placing her hand on my shoulder, "I didn't mean to offend.
I shouldn't make jokes like that." Her voiced dropped and she became serious.
"Forgive me, Mr Sato."Her hand slid down my arm and I grasped it in mine, desperately hoping to
maintain the tenuous contact we had established. I had glimpsed her, the real
person, I thought, if only I was clever enough to figure her out. She had laid
herself out in front of me; I only needed more time, a few minutes more with
her and I might pull back the veil and understand something of who she was."Megumi," I said. "Will you stay here with me? Just a little while longer."
Her hand slipped from mine and she turned away. "No Mr Sato," she whispered.
"I cannot. Not tonight, or any other night. I am sorry." Turning in my
direction she brushed passed me leaving in her wake only her sweet fragrance,
the soft rustling sounds of her robe, and the memory of her musical laughter.In my desolation I knew I was not worthy of her, too far beneath her to even
hope. The words of my father came back to me at that moment and I was powerless
to stop them from inundating my consciousness, repeating themselves over and
over again: you will be less than zero.***
Fin, Part 2 of 7
Richard Rivers 12/97