happened?” I asked.
“My son had one of the occasional diabetic fainting spells he’s suffered since his teens. I keep a special high-sugar drink in my office, and after I administered it, he regained consciousness. The paramedics took him to the hospital. I’m on my way to find my daughter to drive me there.”
Diabetes was serious. I thought of Nomu Ideta, the old man lying miserably in bed in Denen-Chofu. Abbot Mihori seemed extremely calm for someone who’d just seen his heir collapse.
“They want me to come back for a wild festival.” Angus interrupted my troubled thoughts.
“The Tanabata festival,” Abbot Mihori clarified. “Kamakura’s celebration is not as big as those celebrated elsewhere, but I think the atmosphere is considerably more scenic. We have a parade of floats along the sea, and archery and dancing at the Hachiman Shrine. . . .”
“Sounds okay, as long as there’s not too much religious mumbo-jumbo,” Angus commented.
I blushed, embarrassed at what he was saying, but Abbot Mihori took it in stride. “You will be happy that the festival is secular, a mix of Japanese and Chinese legends. It’s the story of two star lovers—”
“Do you mean star-crossed lovers?” Angus interrupted.
“That too,” Mr. Mihori said, smiling. “The story begins with the Princess Orihime, who lived on a star, where she worked as a weaver. Her father, the emperor of the heavens, arranged for her to meet a handsome cowherd who lived on a different star in the west coast of the Milky Way. When the two met, they fell so deeply in love that Princess Orihime neglected her weaving. The emperor was furious and did not let them see each other again. The exception is once a year, on the night of July seventh, when birds form a bridge over the river of heaven so the lovers can meet. But you will learn more about that on the festival evening. Will you stay with your brother in Tokyo through that time?”
“I’ll be here as long as Rei puts up with me.”
“Ah so desu ka?” Is that so? Mr. Mihori’s wise eyes studied me. I wondered how much Angus had told him about our communal living situation—and whether he’d approve of my exercising his daughter after all.
Chapter 10
On the train ride home I rested against the door, watching Angus sandwich himself between two pretty coeds from Sophia University who had been practicing English together. Within minutes they were telling Angus how fascinating he was, a world traveler who looked like Harrison Ford and the lead singer of Simply Red combined. Did he know that band? Did he know Tokyo nightlife?
“Simply Red’s a naff band,” Angus grumbled, but moved closer to get a look down their halter tops. I wasn’t surprised that when we reached Roppongi, Angus foisted his backpack on me and headed off with his new friends for what I guessed would be a night of revelry. I walked home, sweating and brooding. Passing a newsstand on Roppongi-dori, I was jarred by a tabloid with a front-page photograph of Jun Kuroi. Or rather, photographs. A montage had been made from various snapshots of Jun as a young high school graduate, as a smiling salesman at the Toyota dealership, and finally in a T-shirt and black leather jacket, his Elvis drag. I bought one and scanned the article for my name, one of the few Japanese things I could read.
Blessedly, my name was not there. But I was worried about Jun. What did the story say about him? Was he the victim of circumstances, as I’d insisted to Hugh? Or could Jun be tied to Nao Sakai in some other way? After all, both men were from Hita. They could have known each other and had a relationship that I knew nothing about.
In the apartment, I kept worrying about the situation. I started dinner, and the rice was just beginning to steam when Hugh arrived around seven.
“Where’s my brother?” Hugh asked when he found me in the kitchen alone.
“I took him to Kamakura, and on the way back he met two college girls. I’m
“My son had one of the occasional diabetic fainting spells he’s suffered since his teens. I keep a special high-sugar drink in my office, and after I administered it, he regained consciousness. The paramedics took him to the hospital. I’m on my way to find my daughter to drive me there.”
Diabetes was serious. I thought of Nomu Ideta, the old man lying miserably in bed in Denen-Chofu. Abbot Mihori seemed extremely calm for someone who’d just seen his heir collapse.
“They want me to come back for a wild festival.” Angus interrupted my troubled thoughts.
“The Tanabata festival,” Abbot Mihori clarified. “Kamakura’s celebration is not as big as those celebrated elsewhere, but I think the atmosphere is considerably more scenic. We have a parade of floats along the sea, and archery and dancing at the Hachiman Shrine. . . .”
“Sounds okay, as long as there’s not too much religious mumbo-jumbo,” Angus commented.
I blushed, embarrassed at what he was saying, but Abbot Mihori took it in stride. “You will be happy that the festival is secular, a mix of Japanese and Chinese legends. It’s the story of two star lovers—”
“Do you mean star-crossed lovers?” Angus interrupted.
“That too,” Mr. Mihori said, smiling. “The story begins with the Princess Orihime, who lived on a star, where she worked as a weaver. Her father, the emperor of the heavens, arranged for her to meet a handsome cowherd who lived on a different star in the west coast of the Milky Way. When the two met, they fell so deeply in love that Princess Orihime neglected her weaving. The emperor was furious and did not let them see each other again. The exception is once a year, on the night of July seventh, when birds form a bridge over the river of heaven so the lovers can meet. But you will learn more about that on the festival evening. Will you stay with your brother in Tokyo through that time?”
“I’ll be here as long as Rei puts up with me.”
“Ah so desu ka?” Is that so? Mr. Mihori’s wise eyes studied me. I wondered how much Angus had told him about our communal living situation—and whether he’d approve of my exercising his daughter after all.
Chapter 10
On the train ride home I rested against the door, watching Angus sandwich himself between two pretty coeds from Sophia University who had been practicing English together. Within minutes they were telling Angus how fascinating he was, a world traveler who looked like Harrison Ford and the lead singer of Simply Red combined. Did he know that band? Did he know Tokyo nightlife?
“Simply Red’s a naff band,” Angus grumbled, but moved closer to get a look down their halter tops. I wasn’t surprised that when we reached Roppongi, Angus foisted his backpack on me and headed off with his new friends for what I guessed would be a night of revelry. I walked home, sweating and brooding. Passing a newsstand on Roppongi-dori, I was jarred by a tabloid with a front-page photograph of Jun Kuroi. Or rather, photographs. A montage had been made from various snapshots of Jun as a young high school graduate, as a smiling salesman at the Toyota dealership, and finally in a T-shirt and black leather jacket, his Elvis drag. I bought one and scanned the article for my name, one of the few Japanese things I could read.
Blessedly, my name was not there. But I was worried about Jun. What did the story say about him? Was he the victim of circumstances, as I’d insisted to Hugh? Or could Jun be tied to Nao Sakai in some other way? After all, both men were from Hita. They could have known each other and had a relationship that I knew nothing about.
In the apartment, I kept worrying about the situation. I started dinner, and the rice was just beginning to steam when Hugh arrived around seven.
“Where’s my brother?” Hugh asked when he found me in the kitchen alone.
“I took him to Kamakura, and on the way back he met two college girls. I’m
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