A JOURNEY TO THE EAST
By Richard Rivers

Day 7, Saturday:
 
 
 

The sound of her voice fought against the heavy night air; blocked, dead and
un-resonant, as if no one had heard it.  The last tolling of the midnight bell
faded slowly away, the sound dissipating to silence as it receded from the
present, the irrevocable moment when clapper and bell had came together to send
outward waves of sound now dwindling, as the present, once clear and sharp to
the mind slowly fades, blurring into distant memory.

"I have to go back now," Satomi whispered.  "If I am not back in the house soon
my parents will find out about it."

"But Satomi..."  I grasped her hand, not wanting her to go, as if  by letting
her get away I would allow her to carry off a part of myself.  "I've got to talk
to you...about tonight.  I leave tomorrow."

Her hand, already sliding out of mine, faltered.  She paused for a moment, then
turning her wrist let the tips of her fingers slide softly across the palm of my
hand as she broke the contact between us.  I felt a resurgence of arousal: those
delicate fingers had innocently explored me not long before, and although I knew
what I had to say-that I was sorry for what happened, that I shouldn't have let
it happen at all-I still longed for her gentle touch, the silky yet firm curl of
her fingers around me.

"You can walk with me as far as the house then," she said softly.

Even though we walked slowly, I felt hurried.  The house was not far away and
every step closer we took made me feel more uneasy, as if I shouldn't let her
get away from me, having done to me what she had done, knowing what she knew.

"Satomi, listen."  I had to force the words out.  "I am sorry about what
happened.  It shouldn't have.  I mean I shouldn't have let it happen.  I'm
supposed to be the adult here...but I let things get out of control.  It's just
that...well...Megumi...and everything that was happening, everything that we
saw..."  My voice faded.  I felt even more embarrassed than before: I hadn't
said what I wanted, or at least not the way I wanted it to come out.

Satomi walked on a few paced beside me, looking straight ahead.  "What is it you
want anyway Mr Sato?  I don't think you know yourself."  Her soft voice held a
bitter edge.

I dropped my head, looking at my feet swishing out from under my robe.  "You're
right," I said finally, "but I think we should talk about this.  I mean, are you
OK about it, about what happened?  Do you regret it?"

"Ah!"  She stopped and turned to me.  "You are so obvious Mr Sato!  It isn't me
at all you are worrying about: it is yourself.  You are scared that I will tell
someone, my father, Megumi...anyone.  You just want to make sure that I don't do
anything to expose you, isn't that it?"  She turned away.

She was right, I realized, and I stood beside her with no reply.

"Well, you don't have to worry about anything.  I will never tell my father
about this.  He will never be able to use it against you.  Is that good enough
for you? Have I lessened the weight of that guilt you seem to carry around with
you all the time?"  She whirled around and made off down the path much faster
than before.

I tried to keep pace with her.  We were practically running.  "Satomi,
please..."  I tried to rally some self defense but the words would not come.  I
knew morally my position was empty, bankrupt.

"Mr Sato," she stopped abruptly to face me again:  "You have to stop doing
things you regret all the time."  She paused.  "Or maybe it is that you need to
stop regretting the things you do."

She turned and left me standing alone in the night.
 

***
 

Mr Ogawa summoned me in the mid morning.  As I knocked on the door I realized I
had not seen him in this office since the day of our first meeting.  Answering,
Megumi greeted me with a fleeting smile.  She ushered me to a chair while taking
up a position standing over Mr Ogawa's left shoulder.  She seemed nervous, her
motions lacking their usual grace; her hands absently smoothed the front of her
robe as we waited for Mr Ogawa to speak.

He sat idly leafing through a sheaf of papers in a manila folder, hardly
acknowledging either of us as we waited for him to finish.  At length he looked
up.

"Thank you for coming Mr Sato," he said, his eyes still buried in his papers.  I
recognized some of the things Megumi and I had sent over to him the night
before.

"I would also like to thank you for a fine job," he continued.  "Your work on
the project was most satisfactory.  I will certainly give a favorable report to
your employers back in America."  He finally looked up, glancing at me then
quickly over his shoulder at Megumi, as if becoming aware of her presence for
the first time.  He snapped the folder shut and lay it on the desk before him,
giving it a light tap with his fingers.  "I think all that remains is for me to
compensate you for your work and wish you a pleasant journey home."  He drew an
envelope from a drawer and slid it across the desk towards me.  "You will find a
considerable bonus included in this: for work excellently performed."  He smiled
and, clasping his hands together, leaned back in his chair.

I was taken completely by surprise, so much so that it took me a moment to
finally blurt out: "But Mr Ogawa, nothing is finished yet! At least not
completely!  I haven't compiled yet...the final editing needs touching up.  If
you want to actually use anything I've done I will need several more hours,
maybe half a day, to clean things up for you."

He waited patiently for me to finish, as if he knew what I would say and had
prepared his reply ahead of time.  "That won't be necessary," he said evenly.

"But...I don't think you understand."   His calm demeanor had me flustered.
"It's not finished," was all I could think of to say at first.  Then regaining
some composure:  "Excuse me for saying so, but I don't think you realize the
complexity of what remains to be done here.  I would be happy to finish it up
for you.  I couldn't accept payment for it until I did in fact."

He continued to look at me as if I hadn't said anything.  I glanced up at
Megumi: she had lowered her eyes to her hands resting on the front of her
thighs.

"Mr Sato," Mr Ogawa said quietly, "as I have said, no further work on the
project will be needed.  Thank you."  The finality of his tone indicated he had
finished and that he wished for me to leave.  He leaned forward, looking as if
he might get up.

"May I ask why," I asked more calmly.  A feeling of unexplainable dread rose in
me.  I felt cornered.  His tone of voice, while still friendly, now had an edge
to it.  "Is something wrong?  Are you displeased?"

He sighed.  "No Mr Sato.  I assure you, your work was excellent: better than we
could have hoped for.  It is just that our plans have changed.  You might say
that as of today the project is canceled.  I have paid you well after all.
That's business: accept the fact."  He shrugged, a gesture so uncharacteristic
for the little that I knew of him that it made me shiver involuntarily.

I felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment, and of betrayal.  He had finally
put me in my place in the most definitive way: by showing me that even my best
efforts were worthless to him.  He had paid me off, leaving no doubt that he
considered the money I had worked so hard for as a mere trifle, something he
could throw away on a worthless project, and that I personally was expendable,
my feelings of no consequence to him.  At that moment I realized how much I had
craved his approval and spurred myself on when he had withheld it.

I grew angry, as much at myself as with him.  "Forgive me Mr Ogawa," I said in
as even a tone as I could manage.  "When I first arrived here you chided me, as
an American, for being only conscious of money and profit.  I have to tell you
now that I feel extremely disappointed.  I consider what I do to have a certain
level of craft.  I won't go so far as to call it an art, but it is a skill, and
a highly personal one.  I put a lot of myself, my heart and soul, into the work
I did for you.  I am proud of what I accomplished, and to have you simply throw
it away is painful to me.  I am sorry."  I pushed the envelope back towards him.
"You asked me to do a certain job, for which you would pay me an agreed amount.
Well, as far as I am concerned, the job isn't finished.  I can not accept
payment for it."  I started to get up from my chair.

"Ok, ok, Mr Sato," he said, pressing his palms together.  He had a pained
expression on his face.  "You are right, of course," he continued more softly as
I let myself fall back into the chair.  "You are right to feel the way you do.
It is I who should apologize.  I only wanted to spare your feelings.  This will
be more difficult."  His eyes flitted towards Megumi.  "For all of us."

"Mr Sato," he took a deep breath,  "I assure you the project is finished in so
much as you have accomplished for me everything I desired of you at the outset.
You see, in the climate I operate in, I mean the business climate, it is often
not enough to simply move forward with one's own ideas and projects blindly,
without regard for potential competitors.  In fact the competition is
everything.  The markets are small, the pool of useful, workable ideas even
smaller, so that much of what I do is directed towards fending off others who
would have access to the same opportunities as I have rather than to actually
moving forward with anything productive.  The waste is built into the system
because of all the competitiveness.  I often wish it weren't so, but I alone am
powerless to change it."  He turned his palms upward.

"Now, certain of my competitors have launched projects which directly impact
plans of my own.  These rivals, like myself, are out to protect their own
interests by taking certain actions, and I in turn have taken actions to thwart
them.  In a word, what I am talking about here, is spying.  Industrial espionage
is I believe the term for it.  My competitors spy on me, Mr Sato, and I spy on
them as well; but as additional protection I also engage in a bit of counter
espionage, or disinformation, if you will."

"Without revealing too many details I can tell you that my competitors have
attempted to infiltrate my organization for quite some time.  Eventually I
realized that the most effective way to combat their attempts would be to allow
them to succeed, or at least think that they had succeeded, so long as I could
tightly control the information they had access to.  The project you have worked
on is merely an effort to pass along some misleading information to one of those
competitors."

"Your work has been passed along to a certain courier who believes he has access
to my inner circle.  All of the many changes and contradictory instructions I
have given over the last week were merely for show, to simulate the appearance
of a project in development.  The courier has to believe he is getting raw
information, from very close to the source.  Do you understand what I am talking
about?" He fixed me with a pointed stare.

"Yes, I think so," I said slowly.  I found his explanation fascinating, to the
point where it momentarily overshadowed my anger and disappointment at having
been used as a pawn in his scheme.

Then I spoke without thinking, knowing the answer to my own question before the
words had even left my mouth:  "But how does the information get passed along,
so that it seems as if it had really been stolen?"

He looked away, and for the first time I saw him appear truly uncomfortable.
"Megumi handles that," he answered softly.  "To keep the ruse effective I do not
involve myself in that level of it.  She handles it.  Personally."

Their was a long uncomfortable silence, and a horrible sinking feeling of
realization came over me. Megumi and her mysterious lover: now I understood.  I
tried to resist the urge to look over at her but couldn't.  I dreaded that she
might be looking back at me: I had put my foot in my mouth so badly by blurting
what should have never been spoken.  My eyes made a roundabout trip across the
desk and up the far wall before finally came to rest on her.  She seemed not to
have moved a muscle during the entire conversation.  Her eyes remained fixed on
some indefinite point before her.

Mr Ogawa regained his composure and continued: "Of course we have our own
sources to make certain the information is getting across.  Everything has its
checks and balances.  To maintain the guise of authenticity everything must be
approached with the utmost sincerity by the individuals involved to minimize the
risk of discovery..."

He went on a some length about how he had constructed the 'operation' involving
me but I had tuned him out.  I felt sick.  Completely betrayed and upset by what
I he had told me I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the two of
them as I could.  At last I took my leave of them, although I hardly remember
doing so.
 

***
 

The day seemed to drag on endlessly.  I looked at my watch: 11:30; four more
hours before Mr Ogawa's driver would arrive to take me back to Tokyo.  My bags
were already packed and I sat alone in my room fidgeting, not wanting to go out,
dreading that I might meet Megumi or Mr Ogawa.

 Sleeping with someone just to advance a business interest: I suppose it happens
all the time, in all sorts of ways, I thought, but Megumi?  Why would she do
such a thing?  I had begun to believe that maybe I had come to some insights
about her over the past week, only to have all my assumptions come crashing down
about me like a house of cards.  How sordid this all turned out to be, I
thought.

Mr Ogawa: had he demanded she do it?  In so many words, or directly?  I didn't
believe him when he said he knew nothing of how she did it.  It couldn't be
true, and Satomi had already told me her father knew all about the strangers who
secretly came into the house at night, that he even had something to do with
arranging it all.  Then again, perhaps Megumi had volunteered.  Maybe it was her
idea in the first place.  I kept telling myself to drop it, forget them, I was
leaving after all, but my mind always turned back to the unsolvable riddle.

I looked at my watch again: 11:35.
 

***
 

The weather had grown cooler.  A soft breeze blew across the pond, rustling the
trees around me where I walked, well away from the path.  My western clothes,
unworn in a week, felt odd, rough and confining on my body.  When I couldn't
stand being cooped up in my room any longer I had dressed and set off stealthily
on a walk with the slight hope that I might come across Satomi somehow.  She was
the only one I wanted to see before I left, even at the risk of having to face
Megumi or Mr Ogawa again.

Something, either the magic of the place, or as I began to think of it, its
curse always seemed to bring me face to face with the person I least wanted to
meet at any particular moment:  I stood stock still, noticing Megumi striding
purposefully along the path at the edge of the pond.  She had seen me and was
making her way through the grove of trees to where I waited.

"Mr Sato," she said upon reaching me.  "You are hiding I see."  Then, glancing
away:  "I cannot say I blame you."

"What do you want?"  My words sounded harsh: I had meant it simply as a
question, but I saw her flinch ever so slightly at my tone of voice.

"I'm sorry," she said turning away.  "Nothing.  To say good-bye perhaps, that is
all."

"No.  Wait," I said hurriedly.  "I mean why are you here?  What is it you wanted
to say?"

She drew herself up to her full height, straightening.  She appeared to regain
some of her customary poise.  Her eyes met mine and did not waver.

"I really did want to say farewell to you Mr Sato.  That is all.  I have enjoyed
your company this past week and, whether you know it or not, seeing you at work
has been an inspiration to me.  I could not simply let you walk away because of
what Mr Ogawa said this morning."

"But Megumi!"  She had pricked the surface of all the emotions boiling within
me.  "You can't expect me to accept that, can you?  I mean, forgive me for
saying so, but I find the whole thing so sordid, awful, repugnant in fact!  I
don't know what to say, what to think even!  It's such a surprise; and it goes
against everything I believe in!  To have all my work thrown away like that, and
the way you did it!"

I had angered her.  Her eyes narrowed and I could feel the tension wash over her
then dissipate, like a wave breaking.  She waited a long time before speaking:

"Mr Sato," her voice was calm, deadly, unnaturally calm.  "You have no right to
judge me or anything that I do."  A gust of wind rustled the trees as she
waited, letting her words sink in.

"I thought we might become friends when you first arrived.  Friends.  Nothing
more.  But I felt I was constantly battling against you, your preconceived
notions of me, of what I should be to you, of what you wanted me to be.  You
have no place in calling what I do sordid, or awful, or whatever.  Not after
some of the things you yourself have done."

I closed my eyes, feeling ashamed.

"You came here with a whole load of ideas about what you would find, about what
you wanted to find here; and, finding me, you thought you had found what you
wanted.  Only you never bothered to see what was really before your eyes.  You
were blinded by your own dreams, your fantasy world.  I offered you my
friendship, I truly did, but wanting something else you could not see it.
Perhaps you would not let yourself, I cannot say, but that is your problem, not
mine."

"How quick to judgment you are!  I noticed it from the first time we spoke.
Everything has to be put in its place for you to understand, doesn't it?  You
were so quick to interpret my actions as fulfilling your desires.  And now that
you have been disappointed you are equally quick to condemn me."

She waited.  "That man is really my lover, nothing more.  He has nothing to do
with my work, he isn't a spy or anything like that: he's just my boyfriend."

I couldn't contain my surprise:  "But Mr Ogawa!"

"Mr Ogawa lied to you, Mr Sato, and if he knew what I was telling you now it
would not go well for me with him.  There is no spying going on here.  The only
disinformation is what he told you.  I am not telling you this to defend myself,
my honor, or my reputation, but simply out of friendship.  For your own sake.  I
hope you can accept it."

"But why Megumi?  Why would he make up such a thing?" I could not contain myself
any longer.

"He actually values your work highly," she answered.  "You have done him a great
service.  But by accepting your work he has placed himself in your debt.  He has
to trust you Mr Sato.  Knowing what you know, you could hurt him, and he really
does fear that you may give away some of his secrets, maybe inadvertently, but
his fear and the possibility is real.  What he said this morning was merely an
effort on his part to plant a seed of doubt in your mind, to taint the value of
what you know.  Even now you are wondering if what I am telling you is the truth
or just another lie.  He is shrewd: he knows that once planted the seed of doubt
needs little cultivation.  It grows on its own.  That is all he hoped to
accomplish."

"You still are letting him use you, even if what you say is true," I said, my
mind reeling, trying to keep up with the twists and turns of what I was hearing.

"Yes, to a point," she replied.  "He does use me.  The lure of me, really.  I
live my personal life the way I wish and he capitalizes on it.  He knows about
my lovers, their comings and goings, and he tolerates it.  I have no desire to
control what others think of me so that, for the most part, if someone is laid
low because of what he says about me it is no concern of mine.  When it affects
me personally, as in this case, I take action.  You know this morning all you
needed to do was ask me if what he said was true.  I would have denied it."

"In front of him, really?"  I felt stupid.

"That is why I was there at all," she answered.  "He really did not care either
way.  The two of us discussed it.  All he wanted to do was plant the seed.  Once
done it was of no concern to him what I said.  At other times I might have
simply let it go, let whomever it was believe what they chose: but you I liked.
I feel a glimmer of familiarity between us.  I think you felt it too, from the
start, but you jumped to a conclusion: that we should be lovers, that I wanted
what you wanted.  Still, even so, there is something about you that I like."
She reached out to pat my arm.

"Mr Sato, you look so glum.  What did you expect from your week here anyway?  I
would say you have gotten more than you could have ever wished for.  Perhaps not
exactly what you wanted, but something stimulating in its own way."  She
laughed, gently.

"Megumi, I don't know what to think, what to believe any more," I said, shaking
my head.

She was still smiling.  "Don't think.  For once just be."

"I feel badly, whatever the truth is," I said.

She sighed in mock exasperation.  "You just will not let go, will you?  What is
it you feel badly about?"

"Well, Satomi for one thing,"  I said.  "I feel guilty about..."

"She confides in me, you know," Megumi broke in.  "Yes, I know about her little
hiding place and all that.  I would not allow it if we were not as close as we
are, if I could not keep an eye out for her.  I know she gets jealous of me
sometimes, but only because she is a young girl and frustrated. You can think
what you will about our relationship; I am not about to justify it to you."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Megumi continued: "Besides, we had an
interesting discussion this morning."

"Well, that's what I feel badly about Megumi," I stammered.  "I should have
behaved better, shown a little more self control.  I don't like the way I acted.
That's not who I am."

"Really?"  Megumi seemed to barely containing her mirth.  "Poor Ken Sato," she
said.  "Forever wracked by guilt.  When are you going to shake that off?  Who
cares who you are anyway?  Do you really think you can be something other than
the sum of your actions?"

"But..."  I sputtered to a halt.  She was running rings around me, deftly
exposing my weaknesses, yet her tone was gentle, cajoling rather than putting me
down.

"Let me tell you one last thing Mr Sato.  Satomi is strong.  She will take care
of herself.  She will be just fine without you worrying about her.  You might
think about this too on your long trip home: she's dying for it, you know."

I looked at her, puzzled.

" I mean to have sex."  She laughed.  Don't look so surprised!  "She was ready
and willing Mr Sato.  Now, how many men could spend a week in this place,
pursued by such a nymph, and not be seduced?  Your eyes were closed Mr Sato.
You fixed yourself with one idea and wouldn't entertain any other, even when it
came begging to your door."

She cocked her head sideways, showing her amusement.  "To my mind what happened
here is simple Mr Sato: you went down the wrong garden path, too blind see what
lay around you, too stubborn to turn back."

Megumi looked over her shoulder, towards the garden, as if she had heard some
distant sound.

"Farewell, and have a safe journey home!" she said, turning to face me one last
time.

She  brought her face close and kissed my cheek.  Her eyes sparkled with
mischief as she turned from me and began walking though the grove towards the
path.  I stood watching as she emerged from the trees and continued on her way,
skirting the edge of the pond.  She disappeared from view several times, only to
reappear again farther away and I wondered about her, the things she had done,
the things that she had said, unable to fathom what I had experienced.  At last
she eemerged from the trees on the stone bridge.  The wind had quieted and
Megumi paused to look down at the water.  Her perfect reflection stared back at
her from below until a small ripple blurred her outline into a mottled patch of
moving water.  Captivated by the patterns of light and color my eyes lingered
there for an instant before looking up, only to discover she had gone.
 

Fin

Part 7 of 7

Richard Rivers
4/98

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Richard Rivers