A Snow, on Cherry Blossoms - 7
A novella
3
There are some moments which tell a person, going through such an event as this was one of them. No amount of explanation can explain the grip that it had. A normal man might never experience anything so sustained or intense and is probably the most he will encounter, and that is over quickly. For a military man or merchant, it is very different – times like these are all too frequent, and they hammer a different kind of personality. There is a blackness which cannot be erased. Looking back upon the storm and what took place, it seems a different person went through that – the man of diplomacy is very different than the man of adventure. This needs to be understood, or else nothing will make any sense at all.
Staring at my mate, I did not know what was going on in his mind – I had a different picture entirely. I tried to creak forth a greeting – but nothing came out but a low murmuring. Realized that my posture had been kneeling, so I straightened it – it was impolite. he spoke:
“It must have taken a great deal of skill. Doom was designed.” It was not empty rhetoric.
The words loosed my lips: “I made a quick decision, probably because of the Russian vessel turning right. It was a bad decision, so it reduced the odds to forward, or to the left. I saw that it was better to go to the left. I am sorry that I did not have any way to tell you over the noise.”
He straightened up as I had, then looked around at the embankment, seeing if any people were coming to find out what had happened. We were whipped by the breeze, which came and went – it was no longer the steady wind of the turning mass on the bay – looking at each other, our uniforms bedraggled, and torn in places. His eyes stared at me – intensely, longingly – as if he was in love. And then I realized that he was in love, and had gained entrance to the raft because of that. The intensity of his wishes had been the factor that gave him the edge. I would use this. Everything has a place in the world, once it is perceived – and by being made perceptible can be utilized for other means.
Houses of Russian design were stirring – it seemed likely that in a few minutes, the constabulary would arrive. could not say what we were doing, our main objective was to bring us to their superiors – which we could gently explain why we could not discuss our operations – that it was from high in the government. And hope that someone who was much more able to make a decision. We were 3 levels below where we needed to be to explain why we did not need to explain.
“We are going to be taken to jail – in all probability.” He nodded.
“You are in charge – not I.” The obeisance was almost the equivalent of a formal bow.
“Then you are going to have to follow my lead.” Again, he nodded, which again was his way of saying that he was inferior. However, I noted that he did not talk as he should – which was suspicious in itself. This dissonance was disconcerting – he said that he was beneath me, but his manner suggested otherwise.
Ellipse, as we waited, caused me to think about Haiku, and the richness of function – as anyone who was trained in poetic sociality would be – after all to be a samurai was not only to fight but to practice the peaceful arts as well. Along one wall in my youth, was the calligraphy of a great uncle who was renowned for the masculinity and harmonizing the poetic dialogue. I thought of the poem I would write just then to explain my death – because it was not certain that we would survive the waiting. We had no weapons, and the police officers might well decide to just dispatch us without a 2nd thought. After all, this was a period of war and a place of war – that had only recently been captured. In my mind, the writings of Shiki, of the new haiku, jostled – though I preferred older forms. But his style, which often imitated the newspapers of the day, had a certain attraction. Though many of the new haiku admitted that they made a distinction between personal and commercial, they stood up for commercial as being worthy of respect. Thus, I thought:
Order of the Earth,
Is presupposed by heaven
And a glimpse Zen.
It was not good, and I wished that I could master the delicacies of Noboru and Issa – though it was not what I preferred, it was the poetry of my age. Noboru was young, but in his, he made an explosion of color, such as green, red, or mulberry. It was a gift, which unfortunately I did not have. But my attention was forced present because police officers were coming down the dune. There were seagrasses that were tying themselves around the uniform, and slowing them down. It was clear that they had worked the entire night shift, and were bleary-eyed in the blue attire because of that.
Policemen scurried down from on high, knocking chunks of the sand as they did so. These were the town was occupied, it would be some time before regular police officers would take over the job. By then the city would be under Imperial control, having been ripped apart from the Middle grasp – the Chinese still thought of themselves as the middle of the world, though that would be ridiculous to any European power – and soon would be ridiculous to the Empire of the Sun. The 2 police officers were down at our level and had truncheons out, the younger one raised his weapon and thought to strike us, out of mere habit one would suppose. But the older man blocked this idea, and instead said with a rough voice:
“Who are you to, and what are you doing here?”
Blocking my mate, and pulling myself up to my full height: “We came here in a trawler and were ambushed by a Russian small vessel, your commander will want to hear from me. I have a secret message that would not be welcome scattered to the winds.” the voice that it was spoken in was of a type of command – through my outward appearance did not look like it, my demeanor said otherwise.
Hoping that the sharpness of carriage carried the day, rather than the sorry appearance – we were wrong. We waited and watched the stare on the elder police officer’s face. I could think about the decision that he was making: whether to trust. Because if it were a lie, there would be consequences – and they would fall on his back. However, if it were the truth, and we were killed – it might not be so bad. So it was not just appearance but the machinations of command that weighed against us. At 1st he was going to dismiss my utterance and take us in – with some heavy bruising to show who was in command. But he stopped – he stopped because my height was much larger than it was expected. I may have looked like I was in a merchant's vessel, but there was something wrong. Finally, he said:
“We will take you in, but if this is a lie – there will be consequences.” And grimaced – almost to the point of being a leer. The younger one was blunter and wielded his truncheon with a kind of masterful élan – which was rather silly from my viewpoint because it was the uniform, not he in particular, which had an impact. But such was the purpose of having uniforms, they make the small seam so much larger.
March, March, March, March. They, of course, bound wrists to elbows behind our backs and pushed his forward along the narrow trail which they had come down upon. The only good point was that the river of water was trickling off. Then we were up on what looked like a road – with buildings on either side. We knew that our next stop was the gaol. We walked in silence towards one of the satellite stations – and we helped that we would be carried to the main military police force. It turned out to be a forlorn hope.