tommy schmitz

Tokyo Twins - new link on scribd.com

2008-12-15T21:38:00.000-06:00

Tokyo Twins - new link on scribd.com

http://www.scribd.com/doc/3727131/Tokyo-Twins-Book-One

Tokyo Twins - Book One (on i-paper)

2008-07-08T10:40:00.001-05:00

Tokyo Twins Book One 18April2008 - Upload a Document to Scribd

Utah Phillips (1935-2008)

2008-05-25T18:42:00.000-05:00

Utah Phillips died last Saturday night. Although I never met him, I feel like I've just lost a brother and could write a book about it just to tell you why. But I won't.

You're welcome. : )

I'll just link over to this one song of his, "The Preacher and the Slave."

It was written to put focus on the mis-use of power (political and religious) in America many decades ago.

And here are the lyrics.
Perhaps they elicit something large and loving in the world
that all people have in common.

But please do just one thing...
Please do sing along and please do sing it loud:

"The Preacher and the Slave"

Long-haired preachers come out every night,
Try to tell you what's wrong and what's right;
But when asked how 'bout something to eat
They will answer in voices so sweet

You will eat, bye and bye,
In that glorious land above the sky;
Work and pray, live on hay,
You'll get pie in the sky when you die

And the Starvation Army they play,
And they sing and they clap and they pray,
Till they get all your coin on the drum,
Then they tell you when you're on the bum

Holy Rollers and Jumpers come out
And they holler, they jump and they shout
Give your money to Jesus, they say,
He will cure all diseases today

If you fight hard for children and wife-
Try to get something good in this life-
You're a sinner and bad man, they tell,
When you die you will sure go to hell.

Workingmen of all countries, unite
Side by side we for freedom will fight
When the world and its wealth we have gained
To the grafters we'll sing this refrain

You will eat, bye and bye,
When you've learned how to cook and how to fry;
Chop some wood, 'twill do you good
Then you'll eat in the sweet bye and bye

The chorus is sung in a call and response pattern.

You will eat [You will eat] bye and bye [bye and bye]
In that glorious land above the sky [Way up high]
Work and pray [Work and pray] live on hay [live on hay]
You'll get pie in the sky when you die [That's a lie!]

Thus the final verse becomes

You will eat [You will eat] bye and bye [bye and bye]
When you've learned how to cook and how to fry [How to fry]
Chop some wood [Chop some wood], 'twill do you good [do you good]
Then you'll eat in the sweet bye and bye [That's no lie]

...

Tokyo Twins - Audio - Chapters 01 through 07

2007-09-18T19:42:00.000-05:00

...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 01 mp3 audio
Tokyo Twins Chapter 02 mp3 audio
Tokyo Twins Chapter 03 mp3 audio
Tokyo Twins Chapters 4 & 5 mp3 audio

Tokyo Twins Chapters 6 & 7 coming Thursday, 20Sep07,
and each Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday
until completed.

...

Tokyo Twins Dedication

2007-05-14T17:11:00.000-05:00

Tokyo Twins Book 1

is dedicated . . .

to Erika, Monika and Tak

to Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

to Rev. Lyle Ball and Trudy Ball

*******

Dozens of people, mostly SU friends,
kept me encouraged writing Tokyo Twins
during the past ten and a half months.

Some gave the effort a life-force
the story needed to sustain its own.

Like Demi Ebrite who offered great editing and story guidance
and gave me the confidence to get this project started
and moving forward quickly.

Like Jackson Jackson who introduced me
to the tragic and beautiful world of East Timor.

Like my reader and lyricist Jan Covington.

Like UnbreakableMJ, my friend
who lives the mystery and the magic.

And like the Kansas City Twins -- you know who you are.

*******

Tokyo Twins Chapter 31 - How love goes. - (final chapter)

2007-05-13T18:52:00.000-05:00

The girls sat and stared at the floor
and felt an unbearable weight inside.
A long minute passed.
The window of the control room
filled up with officials
looking down at the girls,
and the girls looked back at once
with eye contact intentional, undaunted,
and scattered the gawkers clean away.
Another long minute passed.

“Can we leave now?” said Katie O'Brien.

The engineer looked up at the studio clock,
and then at the girls, “We're locked down for...”
he looked up at the clock again,
“another 25 minutes.” .

The two swallowed sighs,
sat wordless and waited
and held each other by hands and wrists,
and now and again cleared the window,
then lay their backs upon the floor.

Uncle Tetsuo was the first to enter
from a crowd waiting at the control room door.

“I'll be taking you girls home...”

Katie and Susan O'Brien didn't respond, didn't move,
and targeted the ceiling for eye contact.

Two women in dark suits
entered the room and knelt,
each beside a girl,
and stroked their foreheads and hair
and whispered words that soon had the girls
sitting up, then standing, then led away
by Uncle Tetsuo and a few police officers.

They sat still wordless in the backseat
of their uncle's limousine.
The uncle planned and plotted
as a passenger up front,
while directing his driver
to the Gotokuji area of Setagaya-ku.

A few minutes from their temporary home
they could see in street lamp and headlights
the frogs that still covered the streets.

“Where is our Obá-chan?” said Susan O'Brien,
“our Uncle Kenji, Uncle Takunosuke?”

“Well? You see. Girls.
There was nothing I could do...
They broke the law.
They were arrested.
They were taken into custody.”

“What?” said Susan.

“How? What law?!

I'm confident they'll soon be freed.

When?

“Soon I hope. I don't know. But tomorrow....” said Uncle Tetsuo

“I want to know why they were arrested,” said Katie,
“and we were not!?”

“Please. Girls.”

Susan spoke again and slowly,
“I want to know why you were not.”

“Now girls. Everything will turn out fine..
Listen to me... tomorrow... you get to perform,
again, before the world. Isn't that amazing?”

“Huh?” said Katie.

“What?” said Susan.

“Tonight... you performed... in a sense...
for the entire world, and tomorrow...” Susan interrupted now...

“We were not perfor....” she paused, to hold her anger....

“That was not a performance!” Katie screamed.

This'll do wonderful things for your career, and quickly.

“We don't care about...” Susan started...

...and Katie interrupted...
“We aren't thinking...”
she paused and rubbed her face in her hands...
“about our careers right now.”

“You should...” said Uncle Tetsuo. “You're famous.”

“Famous.” said Katie.

“Yes.” he said.

“Are you crazy?” said Katie.

Now Susan spoke quickly, “We wanna know...”
and stopped and looked at her Uncle,
then started slowly in whisper,
“...what happened to our parents.”

“Girls, you did your part.
We're all proud of you.
There is nothing more to do
about your parents except wait.
But tomorrow... there'll be television crews
from over 25 countries to broadcast
your competition to the world!
The world is pulling for you,
the whole world wants you to do well tomorrow.
You should think about that!

“I want to go home now.” said Susan.

And Katie sat and seethed.

“and later, if your parents are still...” he began to say.

Susan reared back her arm and hand
and fired a right fist into her uncle's face.

“Do not say 'if'' about our parents.” Susan said.

Katie lowered her head and darted her eyes
far to the right at Susan.

Susan said, “I am not apologizing,” and held her arms crossed.

The three remained quiet for the remainder of the drive.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦.

Susan and Katie O'Brien jumped out their uncle's limo, and without a word entered their foster home in Gotokuji, said “Tadaima” to the old couple, and scooted upstairs to their bedroom.

“How can everything be so messed up?!” said Susan.

“I wanna know what happened to Mom and Dad.” Katie said.

There was a knock on their door.

“Come in.” said Katie.

“What happened to you?!” said the girls.

“I hurt my neck. Pretty bad,” said Godotnova-sensei, “I have to wear this brace for a while,” the coach stood arranging it with both hands.”

The girls jumped up and hugged their coach.

“The world wants to watch us perform tomorrow.” Katie said with sarcastic formality.

“What are you talking about?” said the coach.

“After last night a circus train of television media from 25 countries is showing up to watch us perform.” Said Susan.
“Who says.” Said the coach.
“Uncle Tetsuo.”
“He wasn’t arrested?”
“On the contrary…” said Katie.
“…he now runs the company.” Susan said.
“And he wants to bat a thousand on his first day in office, huh?” said the coach.
“How could he…?” the girls said.
“It is not stretching for generalities to say there can be only two reasons for his behavior.”
“Which are?” said the girls.
“First, as always, money. Second, as always, power… Hmmm. I remember. Ten years ago...” the coach continued.
“When you won the Olympic Gold?” the girls said.
“Yeah… things with the media got pretty slimy.”
“Slimy? That’s exactly our word choice.” Said Katie.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do except ignore them and shu them away as needed.”
“Like flies.”
“Much more difficult to dispatch than flies. So, get your bath and try to get some sleep now.” said the coach, “if there's anything you need during the night, knock on my door. We’ll talk again in the morning.”

“We'll take our bath in the morning.” said Susan.

“Alright. Just for tonight. Now get some sleep.” said the coach.

Katie O'Brien lit two candles, and the girls put on pajamas, and collapsed on the two futons already prepared.

“She didn't look like a person who could kill someone.” said Katie.

“Does anybody?” said Susan.

The girls lay on their backs, put their hands behind their heads,
and watched candle glow flicker across the soft wood ceiling.

“Our Obá-chan is in jail.” Katie started.

“Uncle Takunosuke and Uncle Kenji are in jail...” Susan jumped in...

“...and the world wants to watch us perform tomorrow?” Katie continued, “these television crews from 25 countries, right now,
should be at the jail that holds Obá-chan asking why a grandmother was arrested for trying to save the lives of her children.”

“Let's just win this thing tomorrow.” said Susan.

“Yeah. I agree.” Katie said.

“For mother and father.” said Susan.

“For Obá-chan.” Katie said.

“For Uncle Takunosuke,” said Susan, “who probably sacrificed everything he is...”
“…and everything he has.” Katie said.
“And for Uncle Kenji.” Susan said.

“And for his friends from Shinjuku.” said Susan.

“I think Uncle Kenji's in more trouble than anyone,” said Katie.

“Yeah. Me too.” Susan said.

“Let's both of us be clear about our performance tomorrow...” the one said.

“all that training...” said the other.

“all those years...” the one said.

“and who cares?” said the other.

“Our family sits in jail!”
“Hey you’re famous!”

“You should be thinking about your careers.”

“I feel so slimy!”

“I know.”

“But we gotta get through this... and get through it well .”

“Yeah. Do well for ourselves, huh?”

“We can do that much.”

“Some thing's missing here.”

“What?”

“Uncle Kenji.”

'”He's been with us everyday since we found out about Mom and Dad.”

“Wonder what he'd say about all this?”

Susan was shaking her head, “Well, I do know
what Mom and Dad would say about all this,
and what Obá-chan would say about all this...”

“Do your best.” said Katie.

“Yeah. And that's not what we heard tonight.” said Susan.

“Not from Uncle Tetsuo.”

“He just said ‘get the money’.”

“That's what I heard.”

“Well. I wouldn't mind having a bunch a money.
“Who wouldn’t.”
“Sounds easy then.”

“What?”

“We do our best for Mom and Dad.”

“And Obá-chan.”

“And we get the money for Uncle Tetsuo.”

“And for us!”

“Okay… Now… what'll we do for Uncle Kenji?”

“Huh. He'd say...' I don't know...'”

“Yeah.” the two giggled.

“He'd say what we both already know, and what's making us feel so slimy.” the one said.

“Yeah, he'd say it.” said the other.

“We are being used.” the one said.

“Bingo.” said the other. “And badly.”
“What’ll we do?”
“Tomorrow’s the day we've been working for.

“Let's win tomorrow for Obá-chan...”

“Maybe we should just break Obá-chan outta jail.” Katie laughed.

“What raise an army and attack at dawn?” said Susan.

“Wait a second. Wait a second.”

“What.”

“I just thought of something.” said Katie.

“Uh oh.” Susan said.

“You're right, never mind.” Katie said.

“What?” said Susan.

“Nothing. Forget it. Was just something...”

“Oh now you have to tell me.”

“... we don't want to do anything stupid tomorrow. Never mind.”

“Katie, tonight, I think we already won the stupid prize.”

Katie laughed. “And that's why... never mind.”

“Katie, if you'd don't tell me right now,
we are going to have the biggest fight ever.”

“Okay. I warned you.”

“Excellent. Here we go, I'm all ears.”

“That'll be the day.”

“Hey!”

“We should just go to sleep, huh?” Katie said.

“Katie?”

“What.”

“Talk.”

“Okay.”

And Katie explained her thoughts to Susan.
And Susan added many of her own.
And the sisters talked into the night
for the next three and a half hours.
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

In the morning the girls were preparing for the day's competition,
checking their costumes, their apparatus,
applying make-up, fixing their hair.

“Morning.” said the coach.

“Sensei? Oh morning... did you watch… Sensei?... over the Internet… um…. what happened last night?” said Katie.

“At first, no. I couldn't. Then I did.”

“Thank you, sensei.” The girls said.

“Katie and Susan O'Brien, you are
the bravest human beings on the planet...
And the smartest...”

“Yes. Keep going?” said Susan.

“I'll never understand how you were able to do that.”

“Do what?” Said Katie.

“Love that much.”

“Can you do love?” said Susan.

“You did last night, Katie and Susan. You did love last night.”

“Hmmm.” said Katie.

“But... unfinished.” Susan said.

“How's that?” said the coach.

“What love does
remains incomplete, unfinished.
Kenji taught us that.” Katie said.

“I'll have to think about that one...
Love's a procrastinator, huh?” said the coach.

“Maybe. But it's also uncontainable. Katie said.

“Unmeasurable.” said Susan.

“That is... until, we have.” Katie said.

“Have what?” said the coach.

“Measured love.” the girls said.

“What happens when you measure love.” said the coach.

“You have a quantity, of course,
something to hang your hat on...” Katie said.

“but it's a quantity of something all together different.”

...not love, said Susan.

“He taught you that?” said the coach.

“Yes.” the girls said.

“We're almost ready, Sensei.” said Susan,
“just have to send out a quick E-mail.”

“Oh? I hope it's to a friend who shares your pain?”

“Might be.” said Susan.

“We'll see.” Katie said.

“Sounds mysterious.”

“Really? We were talking last night...” said Katie,
“...instead of sleeping...”

“I don't want to hear that...” said the coach.

“...and we looked at yesterday... what happened...
... we look at today ... what's gonna happen...
... and we put 'em together...” Katie went on.

“...might still call it a mystery...” Susan was nodding her head,
“but it's a mystery we now know.”

“And when you know...” said Katie,
nodding her head now, too, “you know.”

“Wonderful. I like that. Such confidence!” said Inga Godotnova.

And Katie and Susan O'Brien
grabbed their bags and gear
and walked quietly with Inga Godotnova
to Gotokuji Station, boarded the Odakyu Line,
and headed for the venue of their competition –
the Tokyo Olympic Coliseum in Shinjuku.
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

The girls saw Kamakura-san, their cab driver last night, walking toward the south gate of Shinjuku Station. He introduced the girls to Nikko-san, the organizer of the frog diversion, and a host of other friends of Uncle Kenji including Yamato-san, the girls guide to Daiba on the Yurikamome. She walked hiding her tears along side the girls.

Many of them asked, “May we walk with you to the Coliseum?”
And the girls and Godotnova-sensei at once stopped and bowed and expressed their feeling of honor to walk among such friends.
.......

Katie and Susan O'Brien once inside the Coliseum immediately spotted their Uncle Tetsuo.

“Are you ready?” he smiled, a bit too big for Katie and Susan.

“We are so ready. Aren't we Susan?”

“Ready?” Susan repeated. More ready than I ever imagined we could be.”

“That's the spirit...” he said hustling them to a quiet corner. “We are lucky Godotnova-sensei is fluent in many languages. She will help you talk to as many TV reporters from around the world as possible. “

“She said that?” said the girls looking around for their coach.

“Not just your performance today, Katie-san and Susan-san,”
lectured Uncle Tetsuo, “but every little thing you say and do, from now on, will quite frankly have an impact on how much wealth, from sponsorships alone, can soon be yours.”

“Ah. Okay.” said the girls. “We understand.”

“And isn't that a nice thought.” he smiled too big again.

“Yes sir,” said Katie nodding her head at Susan.

“Yes sir,” said Susan the same way.

“Girls, over here!” they heard their coach's voice and ran in that direction. “You've got 90 minutes to warm up and practice your competition routines... I want to see how you do. Now let's use the time wisely!”

Media from 25 countries filled what remained outside the tumbling mats on the Coliseum floor, running cable, setting up extra lights, trying to get Katie’s and Susan's attention.

The girls looked as cool and relaxed as Inga Godotnova had ever seen them. One after the other, they danced and tumbled with a carefree and flawless precision.

“You’re perfect.” she encouraged them while the girls toweled down and rested. “You can win this today.” she looked into their eyes.

Many reporters tried to corner the girls after their warm-ups,
and they slithered away and stood near their coach.

“We don't have anything to say to those reporters,” the girls explained.

“Good. Then don't.” said Inga Godotnova.

The competition began and Katie and Susan O'Brien waited about one hour to perform before the judges.

Katie was first. And now she stood – poised and posed – at the center of the mat while the world looked on through camera lenses.

Grandpa's Lullaby cued… Kenji’s theme blended in… and suddenly Susan ran to Katie and the two grabbed hands moving fast to the front rows of the audience, pulling young children up to the mat, and laughing the while and rolling and tumbling with the children making play time of Katie's performance.
Their was a moan from the judges and from many in the audience.
More and more children were streaming onto the mat, laughing and screaming, crashing and falling over and into Katie and Susan O'Brien who now lay on their backs buried in kids and looking up at the Coliseum lights with calm on their faces and tears running down their cheeks.

Competition officials came onto the mat now followed by a crush of reporters and cameras too.

Each reporter was receiving – via cell phone devices – identical urgent e-mails from their editors.

It was the text Katie and Susan O'Brien
e-mailed that morning to the editor
of the Tokyo Daily Yomiuri Newspaper:

“TODAY, BEFORE THE WORLD,
KATIE AND SUSAN O'BRIEN,
14 YEARS OLD,
LIVING AT FUDA, CHOFU-SHI
TOKYO, JAPAN,
REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE
IN TODAY'S SHINTAISO COMPETITION
AT THE TOKYO OLYMPIC COLISEUM IN SHINJUKU,
BECAUSE OF THE UNJUST ARREST AND JAILING
OF OUR GRANDMOTHER, OUR UNCLES AND OUR FRIENDS.”

Inga Godotnova-sensei was waving the girls down trying to make eye contact, side-winding and pushing her way through a hundred pens in hands working notebook pages, digital recorders held high in all directions and cameras doing camera things of every click and kind.

She caught Katie O'Brien's eye.

“This is ringing!” she held high Kenji's cell phone, and mouthed the words.

She could read Katie's nodding head and moving lips,
“Please answer it!”

Inga Godotnova held the phone to her ear.

Katie poked Susan's shoulder and pointed to their coach.

“Who am I speaking to?” said the caller, a woman's voice.

“Well. Um, this is not my phone, it actually belongs to a man who isn't here right now,” said Inga Godotnova.

“But who are you?” said the caller.

“I am just answering the phone for... oh, never mind, I am sorry, please allow me to take a message?”

“Godotnova-sensei?!,” said the woman calling, “It's you! I recognize your voice!”

“Yes ma-am, who am I speaking to, may I help you?”

Katie and Susan O'Brien watched their coach sink to the floor, and nearly climbed over the heads and shoulders of reporters to get to her...

“Are you alright, sensei? Are you alright?”

Inga Godotnova was on her knees, weeping and holding out
the phone.

“Hello,” Susan said grabbing the cell.

“Susan! Susan?!”

“Yes? Mother?! Mother?!” said Susan.

“We're okay—Jack, your father, me—we're safe now. Amazing to reach you.”

“What… what happened?” said Susan.

“Some old man... also a prisoner here... this is weird... gave us this Tokyo cell number to call. You alright, Susan? Is Katie with you?”

“Yes. What about the old man?” Susan heard herself say. “Is he there too?”

“He and our two captors disappeared hours ago. No one can find them anywhere.” said the girls mother. “We're being escorted to the Kashmir border and we'll be home in two days.... how was your performance?”

Susan pulled Katie down with a bear hug to the gymnasium floor, weeping and holding the phone to Katie's ear, “It's Mother,” she said.

The crowd of reporters took notice of their identical urgent e-mails, took notice of the pile of children and twins again tangled upon the mats, and began to spread out, little by little, more quiet now... watching... writing... making a growing circle.
More than a few were jotting down identical leads for their reports and editors:

“This is a story
about two Japanese girls
whose names are
Katie and Susan O'Brien."

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

And the old man with his covered head took quickly into hiding the woman called ‘A’ and her friend called ‘B’.
“Don’t worry,” the old man said, “we’re going to get you safely home to Timor-Leste.”
“How are you going to do that?” asked A-san.
The old man smiled and raised an eye brow, “I don’t know.” he said.
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦
The end.
Tokyo Twins, Book One.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Tokyo Twins, Book Two – Chapter 32,

coming soon.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

Tokyo Twins Chapter 30 - How love knows.

2007-05-13T18:46:00.000-05:00

The rainy season commenced early
for Tokyo mid-Tuesday morning,
a droning monsoonal downpour
greeted late afternoon
by uprisings of hydrangea – lavender and white,
ballooning, dancing around station platforms,
then spreading out thick,
up and down the hillsides,
along the rails and tracks.

Katie and Susan O'Brien were walking
from Gotokuji Station on the Setagaya Line
holding umbrellas, and did not notice a single flower,
focusing now on what hurt.

“We're nervous.” said Katie

“Never felt this nervous.” said Susan.

“Wish it were tomorrow morning.”

“I can deal with the nerves of performing.”

“Yeah, compared to...” said Katie.

“...the stuff with Mom and Dad is killing me.” said Susan.

“Let's not think about it.” said Katie.

“Yeah right.” Susan smirked.

“Well?” Katie countered.

“We are practicing well.” said Susan.

“Go figure.” said Katie.

“Isn't it strange...?” said Susan.

“...biggest competition in our lives...” said Katie.

“...has to be tomorrow...” said Susan.

“Um. Check out the frogs.” said Katie.

“What's up with that?” said Susan.

“Careful, don't step on 'em.”

“What is this?”

“Wait. What time is it?”

“Ten till five, something like that.”

“Let's get inside.”

“Oh, Uncle Kenji's coming.”

Susan and Katie O'Brien failed at nonchalance
dodging the invasion of wet and vocal bull frogs
laying claim to the perimeter of the property
of their elderly hosts who were outside
waving their arms and talking fast
at police and national guardsmen –
themselves confused and without a plan
to manage, explain, or respond to
this intensifying amphibian shock and awe.

The girls ran upstairs to their bedroom
where Godotnova-sensei stood
wringing her hands
and walking in place.

“Pack your stuff. He's already here
waiting at the back door.” she said.

“Good evening Katie-san, Susan-san,”
said Kenji suddenly standing
right behind the girls,
“Don't worry, I'll wait here.”

“Uncle Kenji!”

“Hurry on girls,” said the coach.

“Put on your hoodies, girls,” Kenji started giving direction,
“and leave, when I say go,
one at a time,
out the back door,
30 seconds apart.”

“Okay.” said the girls.

“Did you pack a change of clothing, just in case?” said Kenji.

“In case what?” said Katie.

“In case we're not back here tonight.” said Kenji

“Oh yeah.” the girls said.

They began shoving things into their training bags.

“I'm going with you.” said the coach.

“Got everything?” said Kenji to the girls.

“That might not be a good idea.” said Kenji to the coach.

“I'm ready, Uncle Kenji.” said Susan. “Got the music, Katie?”

“Yep...” said Katie, “... on a thumb drive, shoved inside my sock.”

“Good idea.” said Susan. “I got the lyrics. Same place.”

“I have to go with you.” said the coach to Uncle Kenji.

“Let's move down stairs now, girls. Back door.” said Kenji.

“Uncle Kenji, there must be a thousand bull frogs out there.” said Susan.

“More than that, actually.” he said.

“What's going on?” said the girls.

“It's Nikko-san and her friends to the rescue.” he said.

Nikko-san?” said the girls.

I'll explain later. Just watch you're step, ” said Kenji,

“Godotnova-sensei,” he continued to the coach,
and stood close to her, face-to-face,
“your role is important, right here.
It would be a good idea for you to stay.
The girls will need you when they arrive home tonight.”

“I thought you weren't sure if they were coming home tonight or not?”

“It would be better if you stayed here,” said Kenji.

“I'm going with you.” she said.

“Okay, then.” Kenji patted her on both shoulders
and looked her square in the eye. “Leave 30 seconds
after you see me go out the back door.” he said.

“To where?” said the coach.

“Okay everybody. Listen up.
Here's what we do:
Walk fast out the back door, but not too fast.
Two blocks in the direction away from the station.
Then one block south.
There will be a taxi waiting to meet us.
Ready? And remember. Do not run.”

Now all four, including Kenji, were running for the back door.

“Let's go, first one out,” said Kenji.

And Susan flew out running
with her hoody up over her head.

Katie counted off a long thirty seconds
moving up and down on her tip-toes,
and she too flew out the back door.

Then Kenji thirty seconds later.

Godotnova-sensei counted to infinity
and left at 18, took three steps,
and flew in quite the wrong direction,
her legs pointing up at rain clouds,
her head and shoulders falling to the ground.

“Ouch.” she screamed.

Several law enforcement officers
ran into the back yard and stood over her.

“Ouch, I slipped on a bullfrog. Landed on my neck” she cried.

“No, you slipped in the mud. Look.” the officer said.

“Where were you going in such a hurry?” said another officer.

“I was not in a hurry. I was on my way
to the convenient store,” she was grabbing the back of her head.

“For what?”

“For chocolate.” said the coach looking up with a stare.

“Where are Katie and Susan O'Brien?”

“I have not yet seen them this evening.”said the coach.

“Some of our men saw them running into the house.”

“Just ten minutes ago.” said another officer.

“I've been down stairs helping in the kitchen.” said Godotnova-sensei.

An officer in charge directed a team to search the house
for Katie and Susan O'Brien.

“They better be in there.” he said.

The coach sighed deeply
and closed her eyes in pain.
“I have not seen them.”

“Can you move?” an officer said.

“Um... wait a second... no. I can't move my legs.”

“Get an ambulance for her.” said another officer,
“and hurry up and find those two girls.”

*******

Katie and Susan O'Brien and their Uncle Kenji
waited in the taxi for Godotnova-sensei
and counted off seconds.

“I don't think she's coming,” said Susan.

“They must've seen her,” Katie said.

“Should we leave?” asked Kenji.

“Yeah, let's go.” said Katie. “Oh... but where're we going?”

Kenji leaned over the front seat,
“Oh, it's you, Kamakura-san . Well now,
you have camouflaged even your own camouflage.”

“What's the password?” said Katie to Kamakura-san.

He breathed out and chuckled and shook his head. “I don't know.”

“Bingo.” said Katie. And Susan stifled a smile.

“Since I was meeting you at Shinjuku Station
and taking “our package” to Shimbashi Station,
we are now simply driving, as fast as we can,
to Shimbashi Station
to meet Yamato-san
who will escort you
via the Yurikamome monorail
to Tokyo Bay and to the reclaimed,
man-made island of Daiba.

“Man-made?” said Susan.

“How come?” Katie said.

“It was created as a defense position,
for the Tokugawa Shogunate,
used to be full of cannons.”

“Huh? That was a long time ago.” Katie said.

“What'd they do,
have a gazillion shovels and barrows
attached to a gazillion people
wheeling dirt to the ocean,
and dumping it in?” Susan said.

“That's exactly what they did.” said Kamakura-san.

“Where did all the dirt come from?” the girls said.

“The mountains.” he said.

“That's 60 kilometers from here, easily.” said Susan.

“You girls catch on fast.” he said.

“I wish that were true.” said Katie.

“Yeah,” said Susan. She turned to Uncle Kenji
and became quiet for a moment
while she measured-up her words:
*******

“You remember, Uncle Kenji, on Sunday,
we road the train together to our gym?
And we asked you about the most important thing
there is to us right now.”

“Yes. You asked how you can stop one person from killing another.” said Kenji.

“Exactly,” said Katie, “and you told us a story about Buddha.”

“Yes.” said Kenji.

“All right,” said Susan, “will you help us understand something here?”

“Or at least confirm for us,” Katie jumped in,
“our total confusion over how anyone
could be so completely stupid
to think that such a thing could work?”

“Ah, then what is this thing...” Katie-chan,”
said Uncle Kenji, “... that one so completely stupid
actually thinks does?”

“I don't get it.” said Susan.

“What was it... that worked for Buddha?” Kenji said.

“He's Buddha.” said Katie.

“Yea. No problem.” Susan said.

“Okay. Yeah.” said Kenji. “So, Buddha was like...
showing off for his friends or something... ?”

“Yep.” the girls said.

“... making them feel small and powerless
compared to himself?” said Kenji.

“Well?” doubted Susan.

“Maybe not.” Katie said.

“Then what is this story about?” said Kenji.

“We have been talking about this, Katie and I,” Susan said.
“and to be honest...
it really does boil down
to the simple fact
that he is Buddha
and we are Katie and Susan O'Brien.”

“And that's good common sense.” Kenji said.

“Thank you.” said Katie.

“How could any human being
even dream of trying such a thing,
loving a mass murderer into complete helplessness,
and do so precisely at the very moment
of his bloody and lethal attack
against you... Hmm?” Kenji said.

“Yes.” said Katie

“So I think, said Susan, “our question
remains more urgently than ever.”

“Urgent yet unsolvable, huh?” said Kenji.

“Ah... yeah...” said the girls.

“... and good common sense,” said Kenji,
“as Katie just pointed out,
does not apparently allow
for this unsolvability, does it?”

The girls shook their heads.

“Have you reflected, a little bit,
upon our recent conversations?” said Kenji.

“Hmm. Some.”

“What did we say love is?”

“Um, it is who we are...” the one said.

“... and what everything else is, too?” said the other.

“Yes, and does that come
from anyone's intelligence
or even common sense?” Kenji said.

“I guess not.” the girls said.

“Then we know that Buddha
was not telling us a story about our stupidity...
... or about our good common sense, don't we?” continued Kenji,
... in this battle, this confrontation,
between Buddha and the mass murderer, Angulimala...
... what weapons were involved?”

“The strength and meanness of Angulimala.” said Susan.

“Uh ha.” said Kenji.

The girls were thinking.

“And what was Buddha's weapon.” Kenji said.

“Well, you can't say that love is a weapon, exactly...” said Susan.

“Why not,” said Kenji.

“Cause it doesn't make sense!” Katie said.

“Of course it doesn't...
but compare for a moment,
what you know love is,
to your biggest fear ever.” said Kenji.

“Okay...” the girls said.

“Which is bigger?” said Kenji.

“Okay. I see.” said the girls.

“Now compare for a moment
what you know love is,
with some weapon, any weapon...
sword, gun, missal, bomb...” said Kenji.

The girls were nodding their heads.

“... which is bigger?” said Kenji.

“yeah...” Susan said.

“Given the infinite power of love,” said Kenji,
“would it not make good common sense
that in a battle between this infinite power on one side
and the weapons of your choice on the other...
well...” and Kenji shrugged his shoulders, “Who wins?”

“Okay. Alright. I see. But..., said Susan,
“how can you know,
if the time comes,
how can you really know...
that love will be enough?”

“How could anything infinite not be enough?” said Kenji.

“That doesn't mean that 'I know'.” said Susan.

“You do know.” Kenji said.

“But how do you know.” said Susan.

“There is no how about it,” said Kenji slowly.

The girls looked into Kenji's eyes.

“You simply know.” he said.

“But how?” said the girls.

“Just look at it.” said Kenji.

“Toss it up on the table, huh?” said Katie.

“Yes.” he said.

“That's it?” said Susan.

“Just look at it.” he said.

“But, come on, how do you know?” Susan asked again.

“If you apply to this process
of seeing how love knows
any more know-how than looking at it,
chances are zilch you ever will.” said Kenji.

“So war continues, killing, revenge.” said Katie.

“Is there anyone who has ever known
the power of love?” said Susan.

“Ask yourselves,” said Kenji,
“what powerful leader
throughout the history of humankind
who controls the machines of war
has had the courage to see?”

There was quiet now in the cab.

“At Shimbashi Station?” said Kamakura-san,
I am turning the cab over to you, Satchitananda-san.”

“And I'll drive it to Fuji Television Headquarters.” said Kenji.

“just keep your busy light on,
and the meter running.” said Kamakura-san.

“And us?” said Susan.

“My dear friend, Yamato-san, will be waiting
for you and Kamakura-san,” said Kenji,
“and then take you to Daiba and the Fuji Building
on the Yurikamome Line.

“Oh. The robot monorail train.” said Susan.

“Huh?” said Kenji.

“It's a train without a driver.” said Katie.

“How perfect.” smiled Kenji.

*******

Kenji drove the taxi to Fuji Television Headquarters,
pulled in front of the main entrance
ahead of a line of other taxis now honking their horns.
Kenji kept the taxi lights and engine on, the meter running,
hopped out, and ran inside the building.

“I'm looking for Takunosuke Mori. This is an emergency.”

“Who are you,” said the guard.

“I'm his brother.”

“I don't think so. I know his brother.”

“He's got two brothers.” said Kenji.

“It's okay. I'll take it from here.” said Mori-san
standing now next to Kenji, with four guards,
two of whom grabbed Kenji's upper arms
and began walking him through an unmarked door in the lobby
where Mori-san casually followed,
and bowed and waved his gratitude to the guards.

“So you thought you would just drop in to say hello,
little brother?” said Mori-san.

“You know why I am here.” said Kenji.

“No, actually, I don't have a clue.”
he said lighting a cigarette,
“And I really don't care,” he continued
and exhaled a billow of smoke into Kenji,
“now, if you'll kindly allow these men
to accompany you to more secure quarters in the building,”
he said with another puff,
“I have,” he slowed the pace of his words
and blew more smoke at Kenji,
“more urgent matters to attend to.”

“I see.” said Kenji.

And his eldest brother nodded to the guards
and walked back into the lobby
and into an elevator to a top level floor
of the Fuji Television Headquarters Building
containing the main broadcast control room,
the corporation board room, and his own office.

The elevator doors opened
and there stood Kenji.

“Good evening.” said Kenji, bowing respectfully now,
“Allow me to assist you, my eldest brother,
in your more urgent matters?”

“How did you do that?” said Mori-san.

“I didn't do anything.” said Kenji.

The president of Fuji Television Network
ran passed his youngest brother,
into his office, and slammed and locked the door behind him.

“This is a nice office, eldest brother.”
Kenji said, standing in front of his brother's desk
and looking around,
“you've worked hard to deserve this.”

Mori-san lunged at his brother Kenji
only to realize he had disappeared.

Mori-san ran to a door,
his private entrance to the board room,
turned on the lights, and there,
seated at chairs around the table
were his sister, Obá-chan,
the foreign ministry agents, Taya-san and Kaneko-san,
his two grand nieces, Susan and Katie O'Brien,
his youngest brother Kenji,
and some man he fired, just a week ago.

“What are you doing here!?”
Mori-san pointed out this man.
“You quit this company last week!”

“I was fired.” said Nara-san.

“You quit!”

“I was fired without cause.” said Nara-san .

Obá-chan stood up and interrupted.

“Allow me, since nobody seems to know anything,
to direct this meeting if I may.” she said.

Mori-san was breathing heavily
and looking into everyone's faces,
the girls sat as students, silent, eyes in front,
Nara-san sat in defiance, his elbows on the table
Kenji sat a bit away from the table,
slouching into the back of his chair,
his arms holding up his neck,
his legs folded casually at the ankles,
and Obá-chan remained standing
looking at her brother.

“Takunosuke-san,” she said,
“I don't know all the reasons
why we are here, but we are.
So why don't we deal with
what ever those reasons are...
calmly, one at a time, right now.”

Everyone fidgeted.
Taya-san, the Foreign Ministry agent,
rose to his feet and spoke first,
“For starters, we have something
that belongs to you, Kenji-san.”

He reached into his bag,
and pulled out Kenji's flute
and holding it out in reverence with both hands
carried it to Kenji's hands.

Kenji stood and smiled
to his new friends, the agents
with gratitude and bows.

And as this happened,
Mori-san's middle brother, Tetsuo Mori,
walked into the boardroom
through the main door,
and sat in his brother's – the President's – chair.

“The issue here is this...”
continued the eldest brother, still standing,
“your daughter and son-in-law are about to lose their lives...”

He paused, trembling now.
And holding back tears.
“And I believe it's all his fault!” he said,
pointing his shaking right arm and hand at Kenji.

Kenji sat up. And there was silence in the room.

Obá-chan, also still on her feet,
some three meters from her brother, said,
“You might be the only person in this room
who actually believes that to be true, brother.”

“How can it not be true?!” said Mori-san.

“Dear brother, most of us here,
have heard Kenji's story, and what happened
from the time he left Tokyo Japan, until now.
Yes. Most of us here, except for you.”

“I don't need to hear his story.” he cried out.

“No, you don't.” said the older sister.
“But...” she continued, “their happens to be
a chapter we are all missing
from Kenji's own story.
and perhaps this is the time,
and this is the place.”

“Why are you looking at me?
You are wasting our time.” he said
and pounded his fist on the table.

“And perhaps it is you who are wasting ours, brother?” said Obá-chan,
“because the missing chapter of Kenji-san's story,
is actually part of your own,
and one that only you can tell.”

He fell back into a chair against the wall
of the board room and covered his face
and shook his head.

“No!” he began to mumble. It was not my fault!”

“What was not your fault, brother?” Obá-chan said.

“It was not my fault.” he said again more softly now, and weeping.

Kenji arose from his chair, walked over to his brother,
knelt down with two knees on the ground,
and held his brother around the shoulders.

“No, it was not your fault.” said Kenji.

And there was silence and crying in the room
and Kenji continued to lightly hold his brother
around the shoulders.

“There's not much time,” said Obá-chan.
“We have a full agenda tonight.
And I say again, Takunosuke-san,
perhaps this is the time and place
to reveal the missing chapter
that Kenji will not tell.”

Kenji arose, and took another seat
against the wall near his eldest brother,
and sat up and leaned forward
and looked down at the floor before him.

“It was my fault.” said Mori-san,
grabbing the arms of his chair.
“It was my fault!” he said again.

“Go on,” said Obá-chan.

“What happened to Kenji that night –
he was four years old –
returning home somehow, by himself,
hiding there alone in our home,
enduring, the terrible bombings and fires,
and noise and death that night,
it all happened to Kenji alone,
by himself,”
he began weeping loudly...
“because of me...”

“Yes.” said Obá-chan.

“We were miles away from home,
the five children, mother, father,
you remember, Oné-san,
the long walk to our aunt's house for safety.”

“I was afraid.
Bombings were said to begin that night,
especially in our village,
thick with shops of war-time production
in every direction from our home.

And... Kenji-chan was so much getting on my nerves
kilometer after kilometer, so far away from home,
our family running from the bombs,
and little Kenji would not stop getting on my nerves.

We were walking behind everyone, Kenji and I.
I don't know. I suddenly I began to beat him.
And I continued to beat him.
And not lightly.
And I scolded him, over and over,
about what a bad boy his was
and how his only salvation,
his only way to ever have respect from our family
was to find his way back home that night by himself
to protect our home from the bombs,
so we all could return soon and safely.

And he would not leave me alone.
And I would not stop scolding him and beating him.
Until...
Until I looked around.
Kenji was gone.

I didn't think he would take seriously what I was saying.
He found his way back home.
The next day we found him buried alive.
When we pulled him out,
I could tell by the look in his eyes
Kenji thought he failed his mission
because our home was destroyed.
And his failing meant he would never
earn the respect of anyone, ever, in our family.

“Yes, I was young,” Mori-san continued,
but what I did was vicious... unforgivable.
I do not know what else to say...
Kenji-san, brother, I am sorry.”

Mori-san was finished. His head still buried in his hands.

Kenji nodded his head,
moved his chair closer to his brother,
and put his arm around him.

There was noise outside the room.
An aide to Mori-san rushed in to report
hundreds of national guardsmen and policemen
were preparing to enter the building.

Obá-chan walked over to her brother,
and too, knelt down on both knees,
and hugged her brother, and sobbed with him.

“Thank you,” she said. And slowly stood up.
“And now for the next item on our agenda.”

Authorities will be here moments from now,” said Mori-san.
We have to do something.”

“We can go to the control room, all of us,” said Kenji,
lock ourselves down, negotiate with
those holding Mieko and Henry!”

“Yes. Let's get moving.
Everybody. Follow me.”

“There is not much time, eldest brother,”
Kenji walked alongside his eldest brother,
and Nara-san the ex-building engineer
came up beside Kenji,
“in case you are taken into custody –
and this is not unlikely, oh,
sometime in the next minute or two –
please write the pass code on my flute.”

The President of Fuji Television
looked at his youngest brother
and the building manager he fired last week,
“I don't get it.”

“In the confusion that may arise shortly
when authorities are in the act of taking custody,
at least one of us here,
carrying this baton ,” Kenji nodded at his flute,
“might slip into the control room
at the last second,
continue our mission
to engage the captor in conversation,
and save the lives
of Mieko and Henry O'Brien.”

“Won't work.
I have to deliver the pass code
to the engineer by mouth and face-to-face.”

“Yes, I see, but this is, for us all,
an exceptional moment in time,
wouldn't you agree?
Naturally, an exceptional action...
may be called for.”

They looked into each others eyes.

“Just in case, eldest brother.
It is simply plan B.”

“Who could suggest such an action,
or comply?” said the eldest brother.

“Who knows?” said Kenji.

“If my career is not cooked already,
this'll do the job nicely,” the eldest brother said.

Kenji nodded, raised an eyebrow,
“Yes, it will,” he said,
and handed his brother a marker and the flute.

Kenji then spoke quickly and quietly
to Nara-san, the ex-building engineer
about a suggested tactical maneuver.

Next Kenji motioned to the girls,
took them by the shoulders
and whispered instructions to them.

“Sounds like an army coming up the stairs!” said Takunosuke Mori.

“Ten seconds and they'll be in here!” said Mori-san's assistant.

He took Obá-chan by the shoulder and whispered to her.

Finally, to his new friends the Foreign Minister Agents,
Kenji offered his gratitude, and a plea
that when things begin to happen to play heads up.

“Where is our middle brother, Tetsuo? Mori-san asked Obá-chan.

“He's not here.”

Police, men in suites, and national guard
were now streaming through six elevator doors
and two emergency stairway exits,
and into the circular foyer
that gave way along its circumference
to the president's office, to the board room,
and to the main broadcast control room.

Takunosuke Mori was the first person the authorities targeted.

“Catch!” he said to Kenji,
and threw the flute
now winging hard, end over end,
diagonally across the room.

Kenji reached out, grabbed the flute,
ducked low and kept moving.

“Gambatte!” he cried out from somewhere.

Obá-chan screamed loudly and fell to the floor.

Katie and Susan O'Brien heard their cue,
took a fast, deep breath,
separated from each other
and kept low to the ground,
knowing the lights would all go out,
via the handiwork of Nara-san, the building engineer –
and click – with perfect timing they did,
even in the main broadcast control room.

Their was confusion in the blackness
and authorities yelled out rapid commands.

“We're not dead yet.” Katie mumbled to herself.
and Susan, not so oddly, mumbled to herself the same,
their feet moving now, in unison,
reversing and spinning in mirror images,
the first steps of their Shintaiso duet,
the one they'd been practicing for months,
for the competition tomorrow, Wednesday afternoon.

Muscle memory now took over,
as it does in the gym, as it did last week
in the bamboo black of Hebi-yama,
this precise vision of motion
burned inside their minds.

“Pivot inside-step,
pause-and back-spin away
one, two, three, spins
step, two, roll inside,
tumble-up and there's the mirror,
not of glass
but eyes and faces,
from one me to another.”

Katie and Susan O'Brien
intuitively let fly in formation
the motions and movements themselves:
pivot and spin,
arms-up and tumble,
head straight and roll,
And over the tumbling blackness
Kenji let fly the flute.

And it landed as envisioned,
between the knees of Susan O'Brien,
and Susan O'Brien landed as envisioned,
within the arms of Katie,
at the threshold of the control room door,
and using their flow and momentum,
they opened the door, rolled in, closed it,
jammed the flute for a temporary barrier
between the floor and the bottom of the door
and prayed nobody but the engineer
noticed what happened.

“What on earth is going on here?!”
he said moving in the black of the control room,
“who has entered!”

“We are Susan and Katie O'Brien
Susan said to the control room engineer,
“we are the nieces of Takunosuke Mori.”

The man knew, of course, all these names.

“I have a flute,” she said leaning back,
“that belonged to Gandhi,”
and she tooted on its open end to prove it.

“The president of your company,” Susan continued,
“has written directly on it
the code you need to lock us down
and broadcast under emergency power.
He is now in the custody of police,
our parents, as you are likely aware,
are about to be executed,
in a live broadcast, over the Internet,
you must act with exception in this case.”

The man stood breathing heavily,
staring into the pitch-black,

Several officers had their hands
on the handle of the door to the main control room,

“I'll dictate it to you.” said Susan.

“Huh?”said both Katie and the engineer.

“Do it now!” said Susan.

The girls heard him sit at his chair.
Susan somehow, out of the black,
rapidly dictated the code.
The control room engineer
tapped rapidly on his keyboard,
and activated the emergency lock-out and power system.

The lights went on.

The flute was still jammed under the door.

“Susan. Wow. Magic!” Katie said.

“Katie. Wow. I peeked and memorized it
as our Uncle wrote it down.” said Susan.

The time in Tokyo
on the Fuji Television Network
studio clock read exactly 8:00 pm.

The control room engineer
flipped switches, pushed levers,
and typed long strings of characters onto his keyboard.

Now standing at the window
Susan and Katie, watched the lights – there –
come back on outside the control room, – and there –
watched Obá-chan and Uncle Kenji and Uncle Takunosuke,
and the two Foreign Ministry Agents and Nara-san, the building engineer,
all now in hand-cuffs, being led away by authorities – and there –
watched these six turn at once their heads
and gaze upon the tears and panicked mouthing
of the unheard voices of Katie and Susan O'Brien.

“Why are they taking our Obá-chan away... and our uncles!”

“Your show is starting now.” said the engineer.

The image of A-san appeared in a large studio monitor,
and the girls continued standing at the window,
staring in the direction of their loved ones
already gone.

“Where is the Prime Minister of Japan!”

the girls turned around...

“who is that..”

“your parent's captor...”

“her?”

“huh? she looks like a mom.”

“Your show is now in progress,” the engineer whispered.

“She can see us?” Katie whispered back.

“Am I on the right channel here, or what?!” said A-san.

“She can,” said the engineer, “and she can hear you too.

“Where is the Prime Minister of Japan? Is this the right connection?”

“What should we say?” The girls were urging the engineer for guidance.

Again, he whispered, “tell her she's on the right connection.”

The girls grabbed each other tightly...

“Yes,” both said, “you are...
on the right connection.”

“This is being broadcast to the entire world, ma-am.” said Susan.
“Everyone can see us.”

“Where is the prime minister of Japan?!

The girls hugged each other more tightly,
“We are sorry, ma-am, we do not know anything
about the prime minister of Japan.”

Off camera, all could hear
the muffled sounds
of the gagged and hooded prisoners –
Henry O'Brien, Mieko O'Brien, and the old man.

“Are you the one...” Katie started,
“holding our parents hostage?”

“Your parents? “Your parents,” A-san repeated,
“Who are you?”

“We are Katie and Susan O'Brien.”
said Katie with Susan nodding her head.

“Oh for godsake,” said A-san. “This is wrong.”

“Can we talk to our mother and father?” said Susan.

“Oh no. This is so wrong.” said A-san.
“B, prepare the executions,
I am not playing this stupid game.”

“This is not a game, ma-am,
we just want to see and talk
to our mother and father. Please?” said Katie.

A-san slumped to the floor crying, and holding her face in her hands.

At least two minutes of silence passed by.

“Your parents have to die...
just as each and all
of my own five children...
died... unfairly...
...and people must know.
People must learn.

“Learn what?” said Susan.

“Learn what it is
to have one's family
horrifically murdered before your eyes,
without warning,
without cause.
There is never rest from the anger,
never rest from the grief.”

“We are so sorry.” said Susan.

“Yes. We are.
Yet, we do not know
about that, ma-am,
we just want to see and talk
to our mother and father.” said Katie.

A-san broke down again
and moved away from the camera lens,
that fed on nothing now except a blank wall,
yet the audio of her sobbing,
and the fears and whimpers
of her three prisoners
was coming through.

A-san popped up suddenly
in front of the camera,
with wild eyes and anger,
“B, remove their hoods and gags,
and turn the camera onto
the two prisoners from Japan,” A-san paused,
“Talk for two minutes...”
she said slowly to Katie and Susan O'Brien.
A-san was breathing heavily,
“Then they die.”

Katie and Susan O'Brien both tried to smile,
and sobbed loudly at the sight
of their fragile and exhausted parents...
their mother's hair was tangled
and drawn straight and covered in dust,
their father had facial hair and battered eyes,
and looked twenty years older.

The girls sank to the floor still in their own embrace.

The studio engineer moved the camera down and close to the girls' faces.

“Susan-chan, Katie-chan!” said Mieko O'Brien.

“Oh my God, girls, it is so good to see you,” said Henry O'Brien.

The girls were kneeling
holding each other
and looking at their parents,
heads and shoulders and arms shaking hard,
their young voices moaning
and crying with agony and grief.

“Girls.” said their mother.
“Girls.” she said again.
“Girls, look at me.”

The girls looked into the camera still crying and shaking.

“Girls. Tomorrow you have an important competition.”

“Yes. Girls.” said Henry O'Brien.
“Tomorrow is what
you have been living for
each and every day
for many many years.”

There was silence amidst the sobbing from both children and parents.

“B, get the brother and bring him here, quickly,”
said A-san off camera, “And you, the world out there,
I do so hope you are paying attention.”
she gazed closely into the camera lens now.

“Our brother, Jack!” cried Katie and Susan O'Brien.

“What is this!” said both Mieko and Henry O'Brien,
screaming now and struggling hard in their shackles.

A-san covered the camera lens with something
and blocked the view.

“Quickly B, she said.

Still off camera, Henry O'Brien began to speak.

“Jack is here? How in the world...” then he shifted gears,
“Girls. Tomorrow.” he gathered his words and breath,
“You have trained hard for this competition.
You have a good chance to earn
your places on the Japan National Team.”

“Yes,” said Mieko O'Brien, “and we know you will succeed.”

“Mother and father...?” said Katie.

We will succeed, said Susan.

“We have...” started Katie.
She began pulling a thumb-drive
from her pants leg,

“...we have our music with us
that tomorrow we will perform to.” said Susan.

“Can we play it for you?” said Katie,
and handed it to the engineer.

“Oh...” cried Mieko O'Brien.

“Yes, please play it,” said Henry O'Brien.

And then, over audio waves came the melody of the lullaby
written by the children's grandfather, in 1939,
himself, at 16 years old, still a child
growing up in Des Moines Iowa.

Henry broke down crying again. As did the girls. And they listened.

Grandpa's_Lullaby.mp3
*

“There are lyrics now,” said Susan over the music.

“Yes! Mother and Father, now there are lyrics
to our grandfather's song!” said Katie.

“Bring in the prisoner,” said A-san in an angry monotone.

B escorted Jack into the room,
shackled, hooded and gagged,
and B pushed Jack onto his knees
next to his father on camera.

“Jack!” the girls said.

“Let Jack talk!” said Susan.

“Do not remove his hood and gag,” said A-san to B.

Jack murmurered. And the girls
tried to continue talking over their sobbing...

“There are lyrics to grandfather's song now, said Susan.

“That's wonderful. How did this happen?” said Henry O'Brien.

“That's enough. Gag them all again,
and back on with their hoods.” said A-san.

The song continued in a loop
playing from from the main broadcast control room
of the corporate headquarters
of Fuji Television Network
in Tokyo Japan.

Susan picked up the beginning of the song,

“I'm going to read the lyrics to you.” she said,
“they came to me in a dream last night
through our grandfather in Des Moines, she said.

“Oh for God's sake,” said A-san still off camera.
“B, this is it, prepare the executions.”

All could hear off camera the sounds of automatic weapons being loaded.

And Susan began to read
to the meter of the melody
still playing:

"Close your eyes my sweet child,
rest your thoughts, my dear one,
it is time to go to dreamland now.

A place so safe
a place so warm.
a place where you can meet no harm,

Rest, my child ... ...
Rest, my child ... ...

Shut your eyes
and ease your mind
leave your troubles
all behind:
and let's see where your dreams may go.

Dance on clouds and swing on stars
Leap from moonbeams, land on Mars.
Let us slip away...
to dreamland now."**

“You have no idea.” said A-san.

“Correct!” said Katie,
“We have no idea.
We do not know you.
And we do not know
what has happened to you,
or to your family,
or to your friends...
We do not know
why you are so angry.” And Katie paused.

A-san growled and pounded her head against her knees.

“But we do know one thing,”
said Katie O'Brien softly, slowly,
sobbing and shaking even more,
“We do know,” and she held Susan tighter,
and looked into her sister's eyes,
“we do know...”
and the two cried loudly now,
pausing once again...
“you do have our permission...
to do whatever it is...
you have to do.”

And Susan was nodding and sobbing,
and softly said, “Yes.”

At once,
the arm of A-san
reached over the camera.
There was a sound of metal in the air.
And the broadcast connection stopped.

(end of chapter 30)

* melody, “Grandpa's Lullaby”- copyright©2007 by John B. Schmitz
** lyrics, “Grandpa's Lullaby”- copyright©2007 by Jan Covington

*******

Tokyo Twins Chapter 29 Part 5 - Underground lowdown.

2007-04-22T20:49:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

In the wee hours of Tuesday morning just before sunrise
Kenji found the turf-covered makeshift manhole in Shinjuku Park,
slipped inside and groped through
the secret passages of the underground
and found the plywood panel entrance
to the clubhouse of his friends:
the cavernous Tokyo Metropolitan Sewer System.

He knocked.

Yamato-san,, his usual subterranean tour guide,
was listening for his arrival on the other side
and slid the panel sideways
enough for Kenji to squeeze through.

"Good morning," Kenji smiled,
and he removed his shoes
and placed them along a row
of about 50 other pairs
belonging to those who awaited his arrival.

"Is your friend here?" Kenji asked her.

"Yes. He's looking forward to meeting you
and learning more about his role tonight." said Yamato-san.

"You are the best, Yamato-san." said Kenji smiling at her.

Yamato-san blushed and bowed
and Kenji walked to the center of the room
making small talk along the way
and paused looking calmly at all his friends
until he had their quiet attention.

"Tonight folks, we're having a party."
He grabbed his hands behind his back
and stood up straighter and paused again.

"Let's gather around a few moments to discuss it."

His friends sat quietly and with interest,
knee-to-knee,
forming a circle around him.

"Thank you for meeting here this morning," Kenji started,
"This will be the first time for any of you
to hear about the party plans
as a community, all at once,
though I trust each of you has discretely shared
with the others your own specific roles
and listened to their roles as well."

Kenji paused again and looked at each face around him.
"Correct?" he said.

"Well...." said a man hesitating,
"...We weren't sure if we were suppose to or not,
so, of course (he looked about at his friends)
we all took the liberty
of doing just that. Yes." he smiled and finished.

"Excellent. Then you know the plan better than I do," said Kenji,
But just for fun, let's go briefly group by group
and listen to your roles and how they fit together.

As you know, I'll be picking up our package,
at the alpha zone,
right here on the map,
near Gotokuji Station on the Odakyu Line...

(Chapter 29 - part 5 continued below.)

Apr 18, 9:16pm
"The package, again, Satchitananda-san?"
Someone spoke up. All knew him by his chosen name.

"Two sisters, fourteen years old." said Kenji.

"And they are aware of their journey to
the headquarters of Fuji Television?"
Someone else spoke up.

"Yes." said Kenji, "And this calls forth,
of course, the Diversion Team,
our first group to speak.
First group?
What have you cooked up
to divert the ever watchful eyes and ears
of our police and national guard
who have laid siege upon
the alpha zone."

A woman stood up.

"Yes, Nikko-san." Kenji said in welcome.

"We wanted to make this a community effort,
and so far, two hundred of our street-living friends
have agreed to participate
in the diversion's planning and execution," said Nikko-san.

That's some pretty slick organizing on a moments notice.
How did you do it?

"We are a tightly knit group of people."
she simply said.

"I see. And what's in store?" said Kenji.

"Each of our 200 friends is now collecting
two hundred and fifty bullfrogs
from park streams and rice paddies around town."

"Oh?" said Kenji.

"We believe the sudden appearance
of 50,000 bullfrogs on the streets
within a radius of 100 meters around the alpha zone
will create an effective diversion for you." said Nikko-san.

"Ambitious and creative, my friend.
But how will you
transport that many frogs? Said Kenji.

"Sir many of us collect tadpoles each spring,
raise 'em in discarded pvc trash bins
partially filled with water.
We each have a trash bin.
The trash bins are on wheels.
Pretty simple."

"What about the element of surprise, my friend...
how will you avoid detection?"

We'll be in and out of the alpha zone without notice, sir.

Really. I am impressed., but how, if I may ask?

By using the Tokyo metropolitan underground
Running beneath the train and subway systems,
Places that many of us call "the way home",
And just as many of us call "home" itself.

"Good work my friend." said Kenji,
"Second group?"

A man stood.

"Kamakura-san, how are you this morning?"

"Well and strong because of you, my friend." said Kamakura-san.

"I'll be handing off our package
to you this this evening, I believe?" said Kenji.

"Yes right here in Shinjuku, Satchitananda-san."

"Excellent," said Kenji, "And what is your plan?"

Kamakura-san spoke of a simple camouflage
that delighted Kenji,
and the next group spoke of disguise,
another group of secret compartments
inside subway cars,
and yet another of stealth
while moving about in plain sight.

The sixth group and final group was actually one person,
and new to this community.

Kenji stood up for the introduction:

"Finally, we have a new friend here today,
courtesy of Yamato-san - thank you -
someone who's agreed to be our relay anchor
and inside sleuth, someone who knows
the Fuji Television Headquarters building,
especially its power, mechanical and security systems.
Folks, let's take a moment to meet Nara-san.

Nara-san, would you stand up, please?

Nara-san smiled and took several relaxed bows
inside the various directions of the circle.

"We trust your years of operating
the facility and technical systems
at Fuji Television Headquarters
will serve to carry our package
all the way home inside the building?" said Kenji.

"And home is...?" said Nara-san.

"The main broadcast control room." said Kenji.

"Ah yes. Then you may be interested in knowing
that this control room has the ability
to lock itself down and operate fully
under emergency power." said Nara-san.

"Oh. This is good." said Kenji.

Nara-san explained:

"It's designed to securely allow broadcasting
during a national security crisis.
The president of Fuji Television Network
is the only one who can initiate
the activation of the emergency system."

"Did you say the president of Fuji?" said Kenji.

"Yes." said Nara-san.

"And how does the president of Fuji do this?" asked Kenji.

"With a password."

"And how is the password used?"

"The executive delivers the password
to the chief engineer of the control room
who knows where and how to employ the password
to power-up this security system." said Nara-san.

"Verbally or in writing?" said Kenji.

"Verbally. And face-to-face." said Nara-san.

"Ah. So the engineer knows everything
but the pass word?"

"Correct."

"Can he refuse a command from the president
to initiate the system for any reason?" said Kenji.

"He cannot, sir." said Nara-san.

Very good, Nara-san. Kenji said.

"Will I have the pleasure of seeing you," said Nara-san,
"this evening, Somewhere in the vicinity of the control room,
Satchitananda-san?"

Hmmm. I'm pretty sure it is where I'll be," said Kenji,
"awaiting with open arms the delivery of our package,
care of your expertise, Nara-san."

"Of course, Satchitananda-san. We only await
your own password to ensure all the stages
of this plan work seamlessly?" said Nara-san.

"Oh yes, and once again,
I don't know." said Kenji.

Kenji was stepping back now,
into the walls of the club house
to make his way above ground.

"When will you tell us?!? they said together.

But Kenji was already gone.

(End of Chapter 29 - Part 5
End of Chapter 29
Next: Chapter 30, complete, no parts)
...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 29 Part 4 - Why not?

2007-04-22T20:47:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

On Monday afternoon
Kenji made his way back to Hebiyama
for one more shot at finding his Gandhi flute.

He rummaged through the rubble of his camp to no avail again,
and considered inquiring about the flute one last time
to Taya-san and Kaneko-san,
the ever present Foreign Ministry Agents.

"Nope." he said to himself, "There's my oldest brother
arriving right now. Not good timing just yet for us to talk."

*******

On Monday night Katie and Susan O'Brien
were ostensibly doing homework,
in the bedroom of their temporary home-stay hosts
in the Setagaya Tokyo village of Gotokuji,
their bodies spread out over tatami mats,
books and papers scattered across the remaining floor space,
pens in their mouths chewing on some unspecified vigilance,
feet moving like windmills up and down and up and down,
in a restless working out of their restlessness.

Their coach, Godotnova-sensei, knocked on their door.

"Would you like tea, girls?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." the girls said.

The coach slid the door open with one hand
and carried in a tray of tea and rice crackers with the other.

"How can you study in the dark like this? Said their coach.

"We can't." Katie said.

"Right now, we like the candle light."

"Do you mind if I hang out with you for a while?" said the coach.

"Not at all," the girls said, "thank you for the tea."

"I feel obligated to be here
should your uncle Kenji make another appearance."

"Yeah." said Susan.

"I'm proud of the wonderful training you did this afternoon." said the coach.

"Thanks," said the girls.

But you've been unusually quiet today.

"Not much to say in the middle of a storm." said Susan.

"I noticed you've been writing in your journal since we woke up this morning." Katie said.

"Yeah." said Susan.

"Must be something to say?" said the coach.

"Yeah," said Susan, scooting into a sitting position,
"I guess I do, but..." she paused and searched for words to continue...
"You know how sometimes you dream in your second language?"

"Like in English?" said Katie.

"Like in Japanese for me?" said the coach.

"I had one of those dreams last night." Susan said.

"What happened?" said Katie.

"Our grandfather from Iowa was playing the piano
in our bedroom at home." Susan said.

"Cool." said Katie.

"He was playing his lullaby."

"You mean the one in your competition routine?" said the coach.

"Yeah." said Susan. "But the weirdest thing was happening...
he was singing to it."

"Huh. He always said there were no lyrics for it." said Katie.

"Exactly." Susan said. "but he was singing to it.

"Weird." said Katie.

"In English."

"Really weird."

"And this morning I could remember most of the words. Susan said.

"That's impossible." said Katie.

"Been writing them down, off and on, all day."

"From your dream?" Katie said.

"Yeah... or from grandfather, i don't know.
The words were so clear.
I could not have written these words, Katie."

"I wanna see." Katie said.

"Here. Wait! What's that?" said Susan.

"That's Uncle Kenji's cell phone ringing." Katie said.

"You girls have a cell phone?" said the coach.

"It's in my bag. Hold on." said Susan.
"Uh oh. It's Uncle Takunosuke!"

"He must be trying to reach Uncle Kenji." Katie said.

"Here, you answer it!" said Susan.

"No way." Katie said.

"Maybe it's about Mom and Dad!" said Susan.

"No way." Katie said.

"Katie come on!"

The phone stopped ringing.

"How did you get this cell phone?" said the coach.

"Uncle Kenji is letting us use it."

"In case of emergency."

But of course, he is not your real uncle, correct?

Uh. Oh. Yeah. Long story. He is our uncle, Sensei.

Did he leave a voice mail? Said Katie.

I am confused, said the coach.

Let's see. Yeah, he did. Said Susan to Katie

"Let's listen to it. Might be important." Katie said.

"That's not a good idea." the coach said.

"No it's not. And what better reason to check it." said Katie.

"Hold on. I'm checking it." said Susan. "Oh, he sounds very
angry with Uncle Kenji."

"Here. Lemme listen."

"Wait. He wants Uncle Kenji to leave Japan."

"Susan! Let me hear it!"

Katie took the cell phone and pressed repeat and listened.

"Whoa. He is angry. What's that all about?"

"Quiet." said the coach placing her hands on the girls' shoulders,
"You hear that? Perhaps you can ask Uncle Kenji yourself.
I believe he's outside the window." the coach said.

"Susan," said Katie, "blow the candles out. I'll get the window."

And with her back against the wall next to the window,
Katie extended one arm to slide it open.

And Kenji came sliding over the sill
like some unknown form of water
and moved to the center of the room and sat.

"Good evening." he said in the dark. "I'm glad you're all here."

"Uncle Kenji, your eldest brother just tried to call you on your cell phone."

"Oh? What did he have to say?"

"We didn't answer it." said Susan, "But..."

"...but we checked the voice mail he left." Katie finished,
with an embarrassment Kenji could feel in her voice.

"You're most helpful. Thank you." he said.

"Here. You listen." said Susan.

"It's okay. I'll just see him tomorrow."

"Really? He sounds so angry with you."

"Yes. He is."

"But why, Uncle Kenji?"

Perhaps tomorrow evening,
at Fuji Television's Headquarters
you'll find out.

"We'll see him there too?"

Yes. And your Oba-chan.

Oba-chan too?!

Oh, I'm not so scared now.

And you're invited, too, Sensei" Kenji smiled.

"Um, no thanks. I'll stay here and guard the fort."

"Good idea." Kenji said.

"Which means I'll miss out on
the big mystery of your brother's anger," the coach said,
"can't you tell us all now?"

"Hmm... it's something that happened a long time ago." said Kenji.

"What did you do to make him so mad." said Susan.

"And for so many years." said Katie.

"He is angry about something...
something that he did." Kenji said.

"I don't get it," said Katie.

"How can he be angry at you for something he did?" said Susan.

"Well... think back a moment into your own experience ...
perhaps there you will find some clue..." said Kenji.

"I get angry," said Susan, "especially at myself... but not like that."

"Oh I get it," Katie said, "Yeah. Okay." She
paused and inhaled sharply. "Okay..." she was
ready to go on... "Three years ago,
I forgot to catch Susan
while she was doing a tumbling run.
She was expecting me to catch her.
I don't know what happened.
I didn't forget to catch her.
I just blanked out.
She fell hard, and you could here a loud crack.
Her leg was broken below the knee
and her bone was sticking far out of her skin."

Susan pulled her legs up to her chest
and buried her head in her knees.

"And I began screaming at her," Katie continued,
"and I just kept screaming at her...
the coach had to escort me out of the gym
while Susan lay there broken."
Katie was shaking her head in disbelief.

"It's okay," Susan said.

There was quiet now in the room.

"Guilt." said Katie. "It felt so wretched
and evil that getting angry... eased my own pain."

Kenji was nodding his head now just a bit.
"Yes. You understand." he said.

"But what did Uncle Takunosuke do, Uncle Kenji, said Susan,
"It happened the night of the bombing
when you were children, didn't it?"

"Yeah," said Katie, "the night you were lost
and then found buried under the rubble of your house the next day."

Kenji continued nodding.
"Yet, it was nothing that warranted
62 years of beating up oneself.
So again, perhaps tomorrow night,
you will learn what happened."

"Now," he continued, "I'll retrieve you
"around 5:00 tomorrow evening,right here,
is that okay with everybody?"

"Yes." said the girls.

"Question." said the coach.
"How will they know these friends of yours."

"Excellent," Sensei. "Thank you for asking.
They will know them and also be known to them
by a password."

"And may we ask what the password is? Said Katie.

"I don't know." said Kenji.

"How simple." the girls smiled.

"What?" said the coach.

"That's a good one." said Susan.

"Thank you" Said Kenji. I have a rather simple mind.

"I think I missed something." the coach said.

"The girls will explain it to you.
And I must leave.
Thank you for this meeting."

"Hey, you find your flute?" Susan said.

Kenji just shook his head a bit
and slipped out the window,
and the girls finished their tea and crackers
and went on with their conversation with their coach
reading now and discussing
the lyrics to the lullaby
that Susan dreamed last night.

(End of chapter 29 part 4 - "Why not?")

Tokyo Twins Chapter 29 Part 3 - Why us?

2007-04-22T20:42:00.000-05:00

A serialized online story.

by Tommy Schmitz

Oba-chan sat on the floor with the agents around the kitchen table
and poured hot water over fresh green tea
while organizing her thoughts for the telling of Kenji's story.

"Boy, I could use some tea right about now." The voice was Kenji's. He walked in and sat with the others as if all were awaiting his arrival.

"I couldn't help overhearing someone announcing the telling of my story,
and I simply could not resist enjoying the occassion.

"Why am I not surprised you're here?" said Taya-san.

Oh, you just like me, both of you gentlemen.

If you're not too busy at the moment, Mori-san, perhaps you'd be willing to do the story telling yourself? Said Taya-san.

I would be honored, gentlemen.

And with his eyes a twinkle
his shoulders at rest
and both hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea,
Kenji related the story he told Oba--chan earlier.

"Welcome home, Mori-san. Fifty years is too long to be away from home." said Kaneko-san.

Kenji just nodded a bit and smiled.

So, tell us the situation as you see it. Said Taya-san.

Here's what we're faced with," Kenji began again... "we have a depressed, frightened, exhausted, angry woman...
and she's capable of executing her hostages
and then killing herself in a final stroke to escape her decades of
unimaginable suffering.

How do you know this about her? said the agents.
Yes. How little brother, didn't you tell me a few days ago
that you had no knowledge of the terrorists?

Yes, I did. And just now, a few minutes ago,
there appeared an Internet broadcast from Kashmir.

What was it? Said Oba-chan. Anxious.

It was your grandson, Jack, and his two friends from school.

Where are they?

Looked and sounded like somewhere
near the boarder of Kashmir and India.
But their broadcast was interrupted near its conclusion
by loud commanding voices that spoke alternately
in Hindi and Urdu.

"Why? What happened? Are they safe?" said Oba-chan.

I don't know. Said Kenji.

"How can we stop this woman from killing our loved ones."

I am not so sure we can, Big-sister. However,
we must try, don't you agree?
And we must make this attempt to convince the perpetrator
with all our resources at hand.

"Such as? What resources?" the agents said.

"The presence, during her broadcast tomorrow evening, of all who would be directly effected by the loss of Mieko and Henry O'Brien."

What presence and where? The agents said.

"The presence of the grandmother
and her two granddaughters
in a studio at Fuji Television Headquarters
where A-san can be confronted, via TV camera,
with your faces, your emotions, and your words.

That's hardly practical, little brother.
Besides your own predicament,
I am under house arrest, as you see.
And the girls are in protective custody and heavily guarded.

Big sister, is it not a bit crazy you are seeing me now,
during this crisis, for the first time in fifty years?
And gentlemen agents,
is it not a bit crazy you too are seeing me now,
and that in just a few moments,
I'll escape you once again?

There was silence and doubt among the three.

"I have two more things to say, Kenji said,
then I'll be off and running."

Kaneko-san shook his head and looked away,
but no one made a move.

"Number one, Kenji started,
"arrangements have been made
for the girls to be safely transported
and delivered tomorrow evening
from the house of their custodians
to inside the building,
indeed inside the broadcast studios,
of Fuji Television Network.

"That's impossible." Kaneko-san said.

"Please gentlemen, if I may?" Kenji paused
and poured his sister a cup of tea.
"Number two -
and here gentlemen, by the way, is your moment of truth -
your mission is to safely transport and deliver
my sister to the same studios.
The necessary delivery time is 1900 hours, or 7:00pm if you prefer."

Kaneko-san made a odd nervous laugh.
Taya-san sat staring and shaking his head.

The cell phones of both agents began ringing.

Let's take it outside. Said Taya-san

But... we can't let him get away again! Said Kaneko-san.

"This house has been surrounded for days
and he comes and goes anyway.
Do you have any suggestions?

"Handcuff him to a plumbing pipe."

"And you believe that'll work?"

Silence from Kaneko-san.

The men moved through the front door,
closed it shut behind them,
and flipped their cell phones on.
It was their boss delivering the urgent news of contact
made this morning from the terrorist in Kashmir
to the President of Fuji Television Network
by way of a cell phone that belonged to Mieko O'Brien.
The couple are still alive, joined now by their son,
and remain scheduled for execution
at 8:00pm Tokyo time on Tuesday evening.

Their boss finished by telling them to stay alert
and to stay put until further instructions.

Why us? Said Kaneko-san.

No, my partner and friend, the pertinent question is this:
Do we scatter our careers and futures to the wind
(a foregone conclusion perhaps),
or do we follow orders, do our jobs, get pats on the back,
and live quietly for the rest of our lives
with the blood of Mieko and Henry O'Brien on our hands
because we chose to do our jobs.

"This case, Taya-san, is cooking away your sanity.
We are Japan Foreign Ministry Agents.
There is no question here. There is only us.
We' re on a mission. And like it or not,
we are doing our jobs.

"You mean like we've been doing
these past several days,
with our incompetent heads up our clueless butts?"

"That's exactly what I mean." said Kaneko-san.

Taya-san looked carefully at his partner.
"This is our moment of truth, according to
this old Japanese Buddha inside.
And perhaps, my friend, he is right.

Taya-san opened up the front door. And stuck his head in.
"Don't even tell me." he said to Oba-chan.

"I am sorry, gentlemen. Little brother no longer seems to be here."

"You just had to rub it in, didn't you."
he moaned quietly back to her.

*******

"I'm listening," Takunosuke Mori responded slowly in his cell phone
to the woman who threatens to kill his loved ones.

"I have a surprise for you."

"Please continue." he said.

"Mr. And Mrs. O'Brien's son, Jack, has joined us this morning.
Say hello, please, Jack."

Jack and A-san were in another out building
to keep him away from his parents.

"Where are my friends?" Jack said.

"They've been returned to the border." she responded,
and motioned B-san to reapply Jack's gag and hood.

"I wasn't expecting a family reunion,"
she said into the cell phone
with faint pleasure in her voice.

"I am in transit and getting poor reception.
Can we continue this discussion
from my office?"

"No we cannot. Now think carefully." she said,
"and tell me the scheduled time for the execution
of your niece and her husband?"

"Is this a game?"

Answer the question, Mr. Mori.

"Eight o'clock in the evening, Tuesday... tomorrow." he said.

"And what have you done
to save the lives of your family?"

He remained silent in the onset of his rage.

"Are you still there, Mr. Mori?" she said,
making her way back to her main hostages.

He coughed and sat up straighter in the backseat of his limo.
"My government will do nothing.
The US government will do nothing.
Both governments also take the position
that Mr. And Mrs. O'Brien have no business in Kashmir."

"Yes," she said, "God forbid these countries would
send peace makers unarmed."

"Of course, my niece and her husband are unarmed." said Mori-san.

"As were each of my five children, murdered one by one over the years,
with US made and US subsidized guns and bullets."

Takunosuke Mori became silent again.

"You have not yet answered my question."

"Pardon me?" he said.

"What have you done? You, Mr. Mori.
To save the lives of your loved ones."

"In view of our likely failure to meet your demands,
what else can I do for you that will spare the lives
of Mieko and Henry O'Brien.

"And Jack, don't forget." she said.

"Please give me a chance to do something
that is both possible for me and beneficial for you." he said.

"Mr. Mori, it is too late for such shifting of my goals."

"which are..." he responded.

"Mr. Mori, do take time to review more carefully
the broadcast made around
the world last week by your niece and her husband."

"I could arrange for a large amount of money to be
transferred into a secret bank account for you." he said,
"within minutes of our knowing that Mieko and Henry O'Brien
are safe." said Mori-san.

She chuckled and raised the hood and the attention
of Mrs. O'Brien with a request.

"Let's respond to your uncle generous offer
by saying aloud, Mrs. O'Brien, what it is
I hold in my hand."

"A gun." Mieko said.

"No. The other hand, please." said A-san.

"You are holding a one hundred dollar bill."

"Did you hear that Mr. Mori?"

"Yes."

"Now say aloud, Mrs. O'Brien, what is happening
to this one hundred dollar bill."

"It is on fire."

"Did you hear that, Mr. Mori?"

"Yes."

"Then you have my answer to your offer."

"Please," he said. Please give us a chance to save our loved ones.

"I'll think about that a moment. Stay on the phone, Mr. Mori.

Moments passed and A-san spoke,
"What I have to say is a considerable acquiescience in my demands.
Are you listening?"

"Yes.

"Have your Prime Minister appear over worldwide
television from your studio tomorrow night at 8:00pm your time,
to read and acknowledge my demands,
and to make a formal public apology for Japan's atrocities
during the Pacific War."

"That is difficult," he responded.

"You asked me for another chance." she said,
"make it happen or the executions will take place
without a moments delay."

A-san then terminated the connect.

(End of Chapter 29 Part 3)

Tokyo Twins Chapter 29 Part 2 - Monday morning and the law of gravity.

2007-04-22T20:40:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Also on Monday morning

A-san paced the room...

"Things are not looking good for you,"

she said at her hooded

and handcuffed hostages --

three now --

Henry and Mieko O'Brien,

plus the old man who delivered them food,

one who'd be dead already

had A-san realized he could speak Japanese.

A-san's hands were nervous but locked behind her back

her teeth clenched, the muscles around her eyes pulled tight,

her mouth and face without color.

"We have heard from no one, anywhere," she went on,

"about anything regarding the demands we have made.

Not even the courtesy of an acknowledgment."

She stopped pacing to mumble and sigh,

sat down on her haunches

and thought out loud:

"We're not even showing up on the radar, are we?"

"I'm not so sure about that." said Mieko O'Brien.

"Perhaps you're right, Mrs. O'Brien, but

tomorrow afternoon at five o'clock

there'll be no doubt:

our mission here will show up on

everybody's radar. Well, for anyone who

cares to tune-in the live Internet broadcast

coming to the world from this very room

of your final moments and your executions.

"And by whose authority will these executions take place?" Mieko said,

"certainly not the groups mentioned in your demands."

"I beg your pardon!" Mrs. O'Brien.

"You don't even speak for your own people!" Mieko interrupted.

"And how would you know who I speak for, and why, Mrs. O'Brien?

Until you heard my story,

you could not in a million years

connect East Timor with the words sovereign-state

let alone the single word of genocide.

"Everyone suffers some times." Mieko said.

"Not like this" Mrs. O'Brien, "how could you be so..."

"...so maybe we can help you contact someone,"

Henry O'Brien was speaking up now,

"who can explain what is happening with your demands."

"Like who, Mr. O'Brien." said A-san.

"Perhaps we can connect you

with - um, I don't know -

the head of Japan's largest television network?" said Henry.

I doubt you can...

"He's my uncle, A-san, my mother's brother. Of course we can."

"What?"

"I believe I spoke plainly, A-san."

"How do I contact him?"

"You have my cell phone, A-san,

and my charger I presume. His number is in there.

"B? Bring me Mrs. O'Brien's cell phone and charger."

*******

Also on Monday morning

Obá-chan was standing with her left hand

on the hood of the agents car in front of her house.

leaning her head into the passenger window

and raising her left eye-brow at Kaneko-san,

and then at Taya-san.

"When was the last time

you two ate a meal, hmm? Please come in.

I'll feed you. And no, this is not the time

for polite refusals. Do come in now."

"Thank you, madam." said the agents.

"I'll accept your formality

since the girls aren't here to encourage your

bad manners." She held the door open

for the agents to enter.

"Tea is ready. Please sit down."

...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 29 Part 01 - The roots of love again.

2007-04-22T20:38:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 29 Part 1 - The roots of love again.

(Here is the link to Chapter 28.)

Godotnova-sensei had snuck into the bedroom
of Katie and Susan O'Brien
by moving in bits the soundless sliding door
and crouching beyond the candle glow.

"That was a lovely discussion, Satchitananda-san,"
she interrupted their contemplation,
"How did you get in here?
This house is surrounded by authorities."

"I came in through the bedroom window." he said.

"And no one saw you?"

"I don't know." he said.

"Wonderful." she said.

"But I am glad you're here." he said.

"Why?"

"We need your help."

"Who's `we'?" she said.

"Me. The girls. [pause] their mother and father."

The coach frowned and shut her eyes at a bare glow on the ceiling.

"We need your help," he said again.

"why me?" she said.

"why not you?"

"that was rhetorical." she said.

"even so." he said.

"I oughta just.... " she said.

"Yes you should." he said.

"Okay. dammit. how can I help you?" she said.

"This is Sunday night.
On Tuesday night, I'll return
At approximately the same time of day."

"Go on." she said.

"To pick up the girls."

"And for what for purpose?"

"To deliver them to friends...."

"What?" she raised her voice.

"Who will in turn deliver them to friends."

"You must think I'm..." she said.

"Who will in turn deliver them
To the headquarters of the Fuji Television Network."

"For what purpose?" she said.

"I am not quite certain, Sensei." he said.

"And if I say no to this rediculousness?" she said.

"Then you will say no."

"This is not good, sir.
what if you are taken while leaving here?
there will be an investigation.
do you expect these girls to lie,
to say you were not here,
to say this conversation did not occur
to say this plan of yours does not exist?"

"Hmm. Yes. A delicate matter.
We must address this:" he turned
to Katie and Susan O'Brien.

"Girls, if I am taken by authorities tonight,
you will tell them I was here, won't you,
and every thing we discussed,
all four of us, including Godotnova-sensei?"

"yes"

"good. matter settled. there'll be no lying."

The girls stifled grins.

"I don't see what's funny." said Godonova-sensei.

"I like the Fuji Television Network building?" Katie shrugs.

"It looks like a space ship!" said Susan.

"We know the building, Sensei."

"Our uncle works there."

"These girls have the most important athletic event of their lives
to perform the following noon!" said Godonova-sensei.

"I promise, they'll get their sleep
and show up in plenty of time on Wednesday for their performance."

"Are you saying you will not be returning them here Tuesday night?"

"Their return here Tuesday night, Sensei, is not a certainty."

"Why should I trust you?" she said.

"I don't know that you should." said Kenji.

"I have to lie down." she said.

"Please." the girls said.

"I mean right here, right now." said the coach.

"Please do. Katie and Susan and I will continue our conversation."

"What awaits us at the Fuji Television Network building, uncle?" said Katie.

"A moment of truth." he said.

"Is that all."

"Yeah. Pretty much. That's all." he said.

There was silence and eye contact among the three.

"What are you feeling now, my dear ones?" said Kenji.

More silence from the girls.

"Um. Fear." said the one.

"Fear," said the other.

"Fear is real, isn't it?" he began talking slowly.

"... and has its own taste, does it not?
As does love?
Hmmm?

"And here you are
sitting at love's banquet table
with myriad dishes of love,
and fear is ...?"

he shrugs his shoulders,

"the drippings fallen out of dishes,
declaring and insisting with great drama
to be the main course,
with a taste that is
sometimes quite attractive.
Or sometimes quite the opposite.
But it's only a drip!
It's okay to lap it up
or to simply let it be.

"Drips of fear are drips of fear.
And come from what, no less?

"Fear, in the scope of things,
so tiny,
requires the "who" of you
in order to survive.
Your attention, your awareness
is the only fuel on which it feeds.

Love feeds on nothing.
Nourishes its own "who",
is indeed its own "who",
and this "who",
this love,
is also who you are.

So enjoy with joy
each morsel of love's banquet.
You cannot tire of the taste,
a taste that strangely and wonderfully,
is pregnant with its own longing...
a longing for the taste of you.

"Hmmm. Yes." said Susan.
"Today. I felt something for the first time.
While performing my routine."

"Yes?" he said.

"My routine....
seemed to have some kind of longing for me."

"Yes... I felt this also." Katie said.

"Do you see what knowledge is,
and what love is?
Difficult to acquire by design.
But. By accident?
In the serendipity of one's self?
Divine knowledge and divine love
are who you are,
and always were,
and always will be,
no matter whatever
happens to you
or happens from you,
in the whole of your existence,
by accident or not.

"It is good to cherish this grace
of who you are,
revealed to you by accident or by fluke.

"Then - and not by accident -
will love wrap herself around you
and shower you with comfort
and tender intimacy
and knowingness...
ever increasing,
overflowing,
in all you sense and all you feel,
good or bad,
in every single moment.

"It's time for me to go.
I'll see you girls sometime tomorrow.
Lay your heads down my dear children.
Your minds and bodies
want to sleep now -
sleep now in the infinite comfort
of who you are
in your own vast and tender knowingness,
in your own boundless love.
Sleep."

*******

On Monday, the following morning in Kashmir
Farishta and Lilu and Jack O'Brien,
sat near their vehicle by a stream
under cover of tall thick trees.
They were packing and doing the washing up
of cookware and such
and Jack posed a question to his friends:

"Does the world know about East Timor?"

"The world is not paying attention," said Lilu.

"Well. That's going to change right now...
Farishta? Would you be so kind to set us up for video?"

"Why?" she said.

"Let's the three of us video blog the story." said Jack.

"What's that gonna do to help your parents?" said Lilu.

"Something's wrong somewhere in all of this.
Far too many lives continue to be dragged to stake.
And no one's paying attention?" Jack paused.

"Let's tell the bigger story." he said.

Tokyo Twins Chapter 28 - The name of the rose.*

2007-04-22T20:35:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 28 - The name of the rose.*

Susan blew out the two candles in the bedroom

and Katie scooted to the wall, right of the window

and pressed her back straight against it

and slid the window open, low along the sill

with an unseen outstretched arm.

"Satchitananda-san!"

"I'm here."

"Wait a sec. Stay down. They got roaming flash lights."

"I'm in no hurry."

"Okay, grab my hand!"

Kenji slithered low over the sash and sat on the floor in the dark.

"How did you get by the agents and police outside?

"I don't know. But here I am. How are my girls doing tonight?"

"I don't know." Katie said.

"Missing our Obá-chan," said Susan.

"But we can't call her. They took our cell phones," Katie said.

"She called 30 minutes ago. She's under suspicion

because of me, and now under house arrest. But here.

Take my cell phone. I won't need it any more.

No, we can't.

"Please." He rubbed his face in his hands and took a deep breath.

"Now," he said, tell me what you're feeling tonight."

"Scared," the one said.

"Stupid," said the other.

"We just want our mother and father back." The one said.

"We wanna go home," said the other.

"How was training today?" Kenji said.

"Oh yeah!" Susan said.

"You know, Uncle Kenji," said Katie, it was amazing what happened."

"Our performance in the gym was perfect," said Susan.

"Like a miracle, it was." Katie said.

"And now we're feeling determined about Wednesday," she added.

"And relieved, too." said Susan.

"Relieved? How's that?" Kenji said.

"Well." Susan said pausing, "It's a lucky thing you stayed on the train.

There were agents at the gym looking for you." Katie said.

"I see," said Kenji plainly..

"Did you find your flute?" said Susan.

"Not yet."

"That flute once belonged to Gandhi?" said Susan.

"What did Gandhi do?" Katie said.

Kenji struck a match, and a glow brought their six black eyes into view.

"Gandhi?" Kenji said and lit one of the candles.

"He was born in India in 1869, and grew up there,

and studied law at University College London

and then spent the early part of his law career

in South Africa. He wanted to do something

about the stranglehold that racism had on the non-white populations.

"Racism."

"That we do know a little something about."

Kenji nodded his head. "He became interested

in empowering these victims of racism

by spreading an interesting combination of knowledge among them.

One piece of this knowledge was the Hindu notion of ahimsa -

`Be the peace you seek in the world' -

another was the principle of non-violent civil disobedience.

"What's that?" Katie said.

It's taking some kind of personal action

to demonstrate your disagreement with an official wrong-doing,

a peaceful action, but performed with one's body

to stop the wrong-doing."

"Not just writing a letter to the editor..." said Susan.

"No." Kenji said.

"What kind of wrong-doing?" Katie asked.

"One that is favored by state authorities

but usually ignored to avoid trouble by people in general."

"Like what?"

"Good question. Gandhi asked the same thing,

and got his answer from the American, Henry David Thoreau,

who wrote a famous essay in America's early years,

called `On the Duty of Civil Disobedience'.

"Duty?" said Katie.

"Duty." said Kenji. Not for every wrongdoing you become aware of....

but certainly the wrongdoings you are somehow connected to,

directly or indirectly."

"Like what?" Katie said.

"Thoreau decided to quit paying the tax collector." said Kenji.

"How come?" Susan said.

"He realized some of this money was being used

in the perpetuation of slavery in America." Kenji said.

"What happened?" the girls asked.

"Thoreau was arrested. Went to jail." Kenji said.

"You mean he could have paid the tax collector,

but decided to go to jail instead?" Susan said.

"Correct. Gandhi combined the knowledge of ahimsa

and the duty of civil disobedience

and called it Satyagraha, or `truth in action'. Kenji said.

"Huh." the girls said at once.

"It's standing up and saying no to your participation

in something you know is wrong?" said Katie.

"Does it work?" said Susan.

"Whether it is one person or one million standing up,

yes, on some level, it does work."

"How?" said Susan.

Kenji shifted his sitting position a moment.

The girls stretched their legs out behind them

lying on their stomachs and holding their heads up with their hands.

"All goodness, Katie and Susan,

and all knowledge in creation

are interconnected and work together..."

"Do they play together, too?" Susan said with a raised eye-brow.

"Thank you, Susan-san." Kenji went on. "That's exactly what they do.

And any droplet of goodness anywhere

effects the whole."

"What about bad people and bad things?" said Katie.

"Ah. Human ignorance. That too

is tightly woven and works the same way." Kenji said.

"How come?" Katie said.

"Ignorance and knowledge, joy and suffering,

all come forth from one thing..." Kenji said.

"Which is..." Katie said.

"Which is something for you to ponder, Katie-san."

"Well then," said Katie, "knowledge and ignorance, joy and suffering...

if it's all connected and comes from one thing,

what's the difference?"

"The difference is in seeing the connections.

Knowledge sees them in their natural states.

Ignorance either doesn't see connections at all,

or confuses the connections in some unnatural way." said Kenji.

"Like how?" said Susan.

"Hmmm? Take the word, 'gaijin', or foreigner,

for example" said Kenji, "in Japanese,

'gaijin' implies something dirty and nasty."

"But few gaijin are actually dirty and nasty." said Katie.

"Exactly." said Kenji.

"And that's an unnatural connection..." Susan said.

"But it's one held fast by many here in Japan." Kenji said.

"You can say that again." said Katie.

"There must be billions of examples like that." Katie said.

"And ignorance is blind to them all." said Susan.

"Blind to the nature of their own connections, yes." said Kenji.

"So how come ignorance always seems to be winning?" said Katie.

"Ignorance is deeply rooted in us all.

It's not something good or bad,

it's how we're wired." Kenji said.

"Sounds like a design flaw." said Susan.

"Perhaps it is, Susan-san. But creation has integrity,

and provides for us an elegantly simple way

for seeing connections." Kenji said.

"If it's so simple why don't we see it?" said Katie.

"Because it is that which it does,

and cannot be seen directly." Kenji said.

"I'm lost." said Katie.

"Me too." Susan said.

"Okay. Let's follow this in steps." Kenji said.

Here's step one: Question. What allows you to see anything?

"My eyes." said Susan.

"Okay." Kenji said. "Then lay them on the table here

and tell me how that works."

"Well you can't..." Katie said.

"They have to be... oh... yeah...." Susan smiled.

"...connected," said Katie.

"True. You cannot directly see your own eyes." Kenji said.

"Unless you put them on the table, so to speak..." said Susan.

"...yes, to see them indirectly." Kenji said.

"Wait a sec, said Katie. Ignorance among human beings is winning

because we can't really see it directly?

"Ignorance, too, is a way of seeing." said Kenji.

"And instead of putting our ignorance up on the table and looking at it...." said Katie.

"... we try to connect it to something directly," said Susan.

"Or to some one, said Kenji, or some group, or some country, or some race."

"and form some unnatural connection..." said Katie.

"Yes, said Kenji, "we connect our own ignorance

to something completely unrelated to our ignorance."

"Such a simple thing." said Susan.

"And things get even simpler." said Kenji...

"Here's step two:

Put your eyes back on the table for a moment.

Question: "Whose eyes are these that are connected?"

Kenji reached and covered for a moment Susan's eyes.

"They're mine!" Susan said.

"Oh? And who is this "me" that claims them?" said Kenji.

Me! Susan O'Brien!

"Are you sure?" Kenji said.

"Of course!" said Susan.

"Then which one is doing most of the work, hmmm?" Kenji said.

These eyes? Or Susan O'Brien?"

"Neither. They work because of the connection." Susan said.

"And can you see this connection?" Kenji said.

"No." said Susan.

"Then how do you know it's there?" Kenji said.

"I don't know."

"Correct." Kenji smiled. "Which takes us to step three.

Let's close our eyes for a moment.

Question: Is there not someone inside you,

even with your eyes closed, that also sees?" Kenji said.

"Yes." said the girls.

And also hears? Kenji said.

"Yes." said the girls.

"And also feels, and tastes and smells?" Kenji said.

"Yes."

"And who is that someone? Hmmm?" Kenji said.

"It's me." Susan said.

"And where is your me?" said Kenji.

"In here!" said Susan.

"Then, your 'me', in there,

uses you external senses, if connected...

and your 'me' uses your internal senses, if.... what?" Kenji said.

"Connected." Said Katie

"And now step four." said Kenji,

"Question: Who is connecting our senses to who we are?"

"Sounds tricky." said Katie.

"Remember your initial question, Katie?

'If everything is connected, why is it hard to see'?" said Kenji.

"Yes, and you said because it is that which it does." Katie said.

"And what was our first example?" Kenji said.

"The eyes on the table." said Susan.

"Correct." said Kenji. "Now again,

who is connecting our senses to who we are?"

"Me?" Katie said.

"Then let's put your 'me'

up on the table and see how that works." Kenji said.

"So to speak." said Susan.

"Yes, look at your 'me' on the table for a moment.

and one more simple thing... feel your 'me'

on the table there as well." Kenji said.

"Look at and feel my 'me' on the table." said Katie.

"Yes." Kenji said.

The girls pulled their blankets again over their shoulders

and looked through their glowing cold breath

to the small table near by.

"There is something that happens," Kenji said,

"when we consciously gaze upon our own consciousness.

I can tell by the grins on your faces

how disturbed you are by this..."

"It feels quite good, actually." said Susan.

"Relaxing, quiet." Katie said.

"Warm inside." said Susan.

"The ancient sages,

call this experience 'ananda' or bliss." said Kenji.

" 'Ananda!' said Katie. "That's part of your name!"

"Yes." said Kenji,

"Consciousness or 'Sat',

gazed upon by Awareness or 'Chit',

creates Bliss or 'Ananda'."

Satchitananda! said Katie.

"You chose that for your name!" said Susan in wonder.

"It helps me remember who I am." Kenji softly smiled.

...

(End of Chapter 28 - The name of the rose.*)

*Another view of the same title of a greater work by you know who.

...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 27 - What in the hell is going on here?

2007-04-22T20:33:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 27 - What in the hell is going on here?

(Here is the link to Chapter 26.)

Katie and Susan O'Brien walked with their coach

and walked with confusion

from Gotokuji Station on the old Setagaya Line,

to where their coached had a home-stay arrangement

just three stations north of the gym.

An elderly couple welcomed them at the door,

a quiet, calm, half-smiling

man and woman in their late 70s

who offered Katie and Susan and their coach

the same tender presence and unconditional acceptance

they clearly had for each other.

They asked the three girls to be seated and

without query or comment

began bringing in steaming big bowls

of homemade soup and tempura and noodles

and salmon and rice and fresh ikura and pickles from Kyoto.

Katie and Susan and their coach hadn't noticed

until this moment how hungry they were.

And with bowing heads to the old couple,

and with gochisousamadeshita's of real gratitude

coming from all three,

they ate and enjoyed without speaking another word.

After dinner the girls cleared the table

and began the washing up,

and insisted the old couple sit down

and enjoy cups of hot green tea.

But the woman left the room and shortly returned

to pull Katie and Susan by the hands

to a huge hot bath she had awaiting them.

And now the girls sat tiredly and alone

on futons in candle light in a bedroom on the second floor

and pulled goose-down blankets over their shoulders and arms

and over their blue flannel jammies,

and exhaled glowing motions of condensation

through their teeth that chattered

on this unseasonably cold night

for Tokyo in spring.

"Are we nervous, Katie, or are we cold? said Susan.

"Too much of both, I think, right now." Katie said.

Today, the girls reflected,

was at once, the best of days,

and one of the worst as well.

"Welcome to our new life, Katie."

"What?" Katie said.

"Everything's the same

and everything is different.

And nothing of either

feels real any more." said Susan.

"It's like somebody just comes along

without our permission

and dumps a new batch of flavor and ingredients

into stew pots we've been tending to

each and every day of our lives."

"No fair." said Susan.

"And there is no removing

this stupid new flavor." Katie said.

"There is one thing we can do." Susan said.

"What's that?" said Katie.

"We can do well on Wednesday, at the national trials." Susan said.

"Yep, you know it. I really want to do well.

And maybe more so right now

with all this crap going on." Katie said.

"Yeah, me too. I want it even more right now." said Susan.

"Even if it doesn't make us feel any better." she added.

"Yeah. I never thought of that." said Katie.

"Just don't anybody talk to me

about Tuesday night in Kashmir." Susan said.

"Right."

I can't make myself... even imagine

thinking about that." said Susan.

"Hmmm. Yeah." Katie said.

"But I do wonder," Susan paused

and added with a tiny sneer of a smile,

"what our father would have to say

about all this?"

Katie recognized her cue

and sneared the smile back,

then coughed a moment to clear her voice box,

and sat up straight and pulled her chin down

close to her chest,

and in mock formality,

and low pitched voice

Katie put forth loudly, and in perfect English

her father's favorite phrase,

now famous and spoken with ease

among neighbors and local merchants,

among the milk and mail carriers,

and even more among their Tokyo middle school piers:

"what in the hell is going on here?"

"Oh!" Katie muffled her hand across her mouth, still talking:

"I said that too loud." The girls busted out laughing.

"Wait a sec, Katie. You hear that?" said Susan.

"What."

"There's someone at the window!" Susan said.

"It's Satchitananda-san!" Katie said.

"Wait! Shhh" said Susan. "There's someone also knocking

on our door."

"Yes, is that you, Sensei?" Katie said.

"Yes." the coach responded.

"Um, we're meditating, Sensei?

Could you please give us about ten more minutes?

"We're what?" whispered Susan.

"Shhh."

"Ten minutes, girls. Then we need to talk."

"Okay, Sensei!" Katie said, and motioned her head to Susan
in the direction of the window. "Let's get him inside."

(End of Chapter 27 - What the hell is going on here.)
...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 26 - Space and time and what's still missing.

2007-04-22T20:31:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Kenji sat on the curb
on Sunday afternoon
about two miles from Shinjuku Station
on a narrow village back street
crowded with village houses
of both modern and traditional Japanese design.

He hadn't seen this street since he left Japan in 1956,
nor this tiny parcel of real estate
deeded to his family centuries ago
for their service
to an early Tokugawa Shogunate.

He felt his cell phone vibrate
with a call
he'd been expecting
sooner or later.

He flipped it open
and said, "do I remember this correctly?
that our own great grandfather
was samurai?"

"You should leave Japan now." answered the other voice.
It was Takunosuke Mori, his eldest brother,
the president of Fuji Television Network.

"And was he not put to death?

"why are you in Japan?

"A samurai forced shamefully to drink poison?"

"what can you possibly hope to accomplish."

"in his very own house, right here, on this property?"

"where are you?"

for his opposition to war...?

"You must leave Japan"

"Do you remember..."

"I only telephoned to tell you to leave."

"what happened that night..."

"I am not discussing it."

"while our family was walking to safety..."

"this is not the time."

"to avoid the coming bombs."

"I said this is not the time!"

"in 1944"

"I don't remember."

"then why does your voice sound like it happened yesterday."

"Only because of you, our sister - a prominent attorney! -
is under house arrest."

"Would you like to know why I am here?"

"No."

"I wonder. Would this new Japan...

"Please stop."

"with all she has forgotten..."

"Please leave."

"listen to our great grandfather now..."

"What new Japan?"

"The one built upon this rubble."

"Where are you?"

"Sitting on the curb outside your house."

"I'm calling the police."

"And I am calling the frogs."

click.

*******

Fariishta and Lilu with their friend Jack O'Brien,
sat near their vehicle by a stream
under cover of tall thick trees
just within the boarder of Kashmir.

Lilu was relating some history of East Timor.
Fariishta was filling in details about the woman known as 'A'.
She had never chatted with 'A' directly on the Internet
early that school year,
but did so extensively
with several of her close followers.

Lilu flipped open her laptop,
and warned Jack that what he was about to see
would be quite painful.
And then she ran the video
from a YouTube downloaded file.

Jack sat quietly at the end of the footage.

"Is she serious?" he said.

"I think we can talk her out of it, Jack." Fariishta said.

Jack looked at the ground. "Where are they," he said.

*******

Taya-san and Kaneko, the Foreign Ministry agents,
sat as usual in their car parked
in front of Obá-chan's house
late Sunday afternoon,
and to an audience of each other
and to the blank exhaustion they both were feeling,
they discussed and worried about the day.

"We're just doing our jobs."
Taya-san was shaking his head and saying with a sigh.

"But you don't really know that, do you...?"
came a voice from the back seat.

There was Kenji, as he was that morning,
lounging with his legs stretched across the seat
and head against the window.

The agents quickly turned their heads,
and this time pulled out their fire arms and aimed.

"...that you are really doing your job?"

Kenji ignored the pointed weapons centimeters from his face,
and continued talking slowly and with eyes that smiled.

"Do you really know what you are here for,
what it means to do your job?
You guys go to the Shinto shrine on New Years day...
You go the Buddhist temple when a loved one dies.
But sometimes you find yourself in temple or shrine
when there's actually no reason to be there... Right?

"Somewhere inside you, sometimes,
you feel that life is bigger than who you are.
And you visit these places,
not because it's your job,
but because you feel connected
to some bigger picture, some bigger life,
and because perhaps you'd like to feel more connected,
and feel more peace of mind?

"Given the miracle, the feeling you have
from time to time of this bigger picture,
how do you know you are "just doing your job"?
how do you know your job is not much bigger than this?"

"Stop talking and don't move." Taya-san said slowly.

"I am not here to hide,
I am not even here to visit,
and I don't expect you to understand
because I'm not even sure I do,
but I am here to do what little I can
to help save the lives
of the mother and father
of Katie and Susan O'Brien.
So please. Give me until Tuesday night,
then both of you, Kaneko-san and Taya-san,
can personally take me into custody.

The agents continued staring at Kenji.

"Oh. Almost forgot. You guys seen my flute?" said Kenji.

And the agents looked at each other
and stepped from their car to talk privately
and while doing so kept their eyes on Kenji,
or so the evidence of their senses told them.
After a moment of talking,
they opened the back door
to formalize their arrest,
but Kenji was already gone.

(End of Chapter 26 - Space and time and what's still missing.)
...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 25 - The roots of love.

2007-04-22T20:28:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

"Uh oh," said Susan.

The girls were walking into the gym

after leaving their Uncle Kenji on the train.

"That's about us." Katie said.

Two men and two women, all in dark blue suits,

were speaking with Godotnova-sensei

who looked quickly at the girls

and quickly away again.

The girls flung down their gym gear bags

and sat with the little girls,

some serious and stretching,

some not so,

swinging socks and towels now

and giggling with Katie and Susan O'Brien.

The five adults stood over the girls

and giggling stopped,

and a twinge of panic

gripped the throats of the sisters,

and Godotnova-sensei said,

"Susan-san, Katie-san,

can you come with me for a moment, please?"

The seven walked in silence

into an office down a hallway

at the far end of the gym.

Drapes covered from top to bottom

the normally open glass office walls

where coaches would sometimes meet

or call a girl in for the most serious of reprimands.

And pausing for two or three seconds

after closing shut the office door,

the coach said, "Katie and Susan,

these gentlemen are from the Japan Foreign Ministry,

and these ladies are from Chofu-shi Child Services."

One of the ladies said,

"We are sorry for your situation, girls,

and we understand how hard this all must be,

with an important national qualifying competition

coming up on Wednesday morning."

One of the agents stepped out to take a call.

"So for at least the next few days

you will be under the care and living with

your coach and the family she is home-staying with."

"What about our Obá-chan,"

the girls stuttered out together,

their hands holding up their eyes and cheeks.

Your grandmother is fine

and is being asked to remain at home

for her own protection.

The agent who stepped out quietly came back into the room.

"Protection from what, from whom?" Susan said.

"We do not want you to meet any more

with this man known as

Kenji and Satchitananda-san.

"We've just come to realize he has a cell phone,"

said the agent who had briefly left the room,

"and, girls, we'll have to take away your cell phones too."

"But he's our un...!" Susan started...

"He's our unconditional friend!" Katie finished,

stepping on Susan's foot.

"Sorry Susan."

"Yes, he's our friend.

And Obá-chan trusts him." Susan said

with eyes that moved and stood still

and moved and stood still again

into the eyes of each of the five adults.

"We don't understand," said Katie,

whose eyes were doing the same.

"We're here to protect you,"

one of the ladies said, "And your grandmother,"

said the other lady.

"We need our Obá-chan!" the one said crying now.

"We need our mother and our father!" said the other crying too.

"You can stay with your coach, girls,
and attend school tomorrow and Tuesday
and train and compete on Wednesday morning,
or you can come with us
and live at the Foster Shelter.
That's the choice you have now." the same lady said.

"Your coach and her home-stay family
Are guaranteeing your safety," said the other lady,
"As are these two gentleman from the Japan Foreign Ministry
who will never be far away."

The meeting quickly ended in appropriate courtesies,
And the girls and their coach walked slowly together
Back to the gymnasium floor.
"I am so sorry, Katie-san, Susan-san,"
their coach stopped and grabbed the girls' hands
and crouched to one knee to speak.
"This was my idea, and I am sorry,
but they came here to take you away today,
and it took us an hour on cell phones -
them with their superiors,
and me with my home-stay family -
to allow you this alternative.

And Katie and Susan O'Brien let tears
flow once again
and hugged their coach and each other
for a long and needed embrace.

The coach stood up with her arms still around their shoulders,
"You've brought your new music?" she said trying to smile.

"Thank you, Godotnova-sensei." Katie said.
"Thank you very much," said Susan,
searching on her person for a bag that wasn't there.
"Oh," she caught herself. "Yes, we have it on cd."

"Good. Let's hear it.
But do your warm-ups first" said the coach,
with pats on the backs of the girls.

*******

In the belly of the Japan Foreign Ministry
in the heart of Tokyo
on the very same Sunday afternoon,
not long after the girls arrived at the gym
a pair of technicians seated at monitors
motioned their superior over.

One of them began explaining:
"We've been watching
what's been quietly handed down to watch,
you know, the cell phones...
of these executives... um, the Mori brothers,
at Fuji Television Network.
We just picked up this conversation
Between the oldest brother
And a man called Kenji."

"Well, let's hear it," the superior said.

*******

Katie grabbed her favorite hoop
and went first,
and Susan stood by the coach
who queued the music.
"We combined these two melodies
the way we first heard them
played together," said Susan,
"we're both going to use this."

Katie stood at the center of the performing mat
And the piano tones
from their grandfather's lullaby began,
And Katie went from pose to flow
With hoop and hands and feet that followed
with Kenji's theme blending in.
and the coach and Susan sat down to behold
an elegant vision of some new girl dancing
to elegant counter points of songs.

And like a new girl dancing
Is exactly what Katie was feeling
In a way familiar
And in a way she had never felt before.
The hoop, she could see,
Was not something other
Nor something attached to her somehow.
The hoop, she could see,
The hoop, she could feel,
was not a "what" but a "who",
as much of her as her hands and feet
as much of her, to her own quiet surprise,
as her own dancing breath,
her own dancing smile.

And touching the hoop or catching it,
or seeing it fly away in throw,
was not something she was doing
nor something she achieved
but something she watched bloom like a flower
in the increasing difficulty of her routine.
And finally at the end
with the impossible toss and tumble run,
flipping and turning and leaping,
and gliding to a stand-still on her hands,
Katie saw this flower opened in perfection:
looking up at the hoop
caught in her upside and pointed right foot
spinning effortlessly and without care.

"Wow," said Susan to her sister,
"where'd the spin at the end come from...
that an accident or real?"

"Your turn, Sis,
and don't ask me,
the whole thing
felt like a wonderful accident."

Then Susan with mallets
Repeated the magic
With a "wow" from Katie,
and sitting mouth-opened,
her head in wander in her hands
came tears of joy from Inga Godotnova.

Teammates and parents had gathered to watch,
now laughing and applauding,
sharing in the glow
of sisters who stood embraced.

"I've been doing this most of my life
As an athlete and a coach,
And I've never seen anything so ..." the coach was saying and paused.

"So what?" responded the girls.

"Do you think you can do that on Wednesday morning?" said the coach.

"Do what?" smiled the girls.

(end of Chapter 25.)

Tokyo Twins Chapter 24 - The roots of terrorism, part two.

2007-04-22T20:23:00.000-05:00

an online serialized story

by Tommy Schmitz

"Ah. Good tea." 'A' said.

"Would you like a cup?"

Three nods came from Henry and Mieko and the hooded old man.

" 'B', keep them in half hood, all three of them this time, and take off their hand cuffs, and make them tea, please.

"Now, shall we continue?

Let's go back in time seven years

before the massacre of Santa Cruz in 1991 I just described."

'A' sat on the floor now. Back slouched. Legs crossed.

In February 1984 my fourth child was born.

Yet another son, making four.

To my husband I met as a girl in our village,

and he, a boy I grew up with.

We married in 1974. Still children ourselves.

And one year after the other,

I bore three sons.

And each was abducted in their toddler years

and killed.

And now I was bearing a fourth.

But in the months of this pregnancy

he was under suspicion by militia in a neighboring village

and by the ever present secret police

that went where ever and when ever they pleased.

He was forced to hide in the hills.

But when I delivered the baby,

my husband decided to surrender.

And he lived in our house for one month

and then the ABRI, the Indonesian Armed Forces,

made him a TBO (Tenaga Bantuan Operasi, Operational Assistant).

On the day he reported for duty

he was executed.

Our new baby boy died at 14 months

because of illness and we had no medicine.

The ABRI then forced me

to join a women's night patrol

to guard the village, Lalerek Mutin"

from Falintil (the resistance) attack.

Sending out women to patrol the night

was only an excuse for raping us.

An ABRI Kopassus (special forces) officer

soon forced me to live with him as his wife.

He showed me off in public

and in private beat me mercilessly.

I escaped to my home village

and was confronted by the men

in my family and community

that for the sake of their lives

I should return to the officer.

'Better to sell your soul to save our necks.

No one will blame you.' they said.

And for these men I did so.

And I lived with the officer for one year

until his tour of duty was completed.

He left Timor Leste and I soon miscarried his child.

"Yet blame me they did.

Doing what humans beings do

finding fault with the victim

as cover for their cowardice

turned to shame.

"My father, Mrs. O'Brien,

labored for assistants to the ruling Japanese commander

of Timor Leste in 1942, Yuichi Tsuchihashi.

He learned enough Japanese in two years

to remember the phrase...

how does that go in English, Mr. O'Brien?

'if you see a stinking hole...?'

finish the phrase, please?"

"If you see a stinking hole, cover it." he said.

"Thank you." `A' said.

"And what stinks more," she went on,

"and curtained with more tedious care

by the best that man can build -

in wall or monument or church or skyscraper -

than the smoldering stink of shame.

I digress.

"I became the scapegoat of my village,

forced for many years

to appease the violent enemy

because I am a woman.

So the village men urged me again

to marry an Indonesian officer - a third time.

while the same men turned their backs

and condemned me

for association with the enemy.

My new husband was a Hindu from Jakarta.

His mother's side came from a Christian village

on the Indonesian island of Ambon -

and he had already experienced first hand,

the treachery of Indonesian armed forces.

His father's side came from Hindus here in Kashmir,

a family that over years made their way to Indonesia

when the faith they lived became detrimental.

And why? For religious purposes?

No. Because the vast majority of the population,

who had long been Muslim in Kashmir

wanted self-determination,

which, in this case, was their desire to be

integrated with the new state of Pakistan.

The self-determination of these Muslim people, of course,

was negated by the guns of Hindus,

and my husband's family wisely decided

not to get involved.

But I learned to love this Hindu man

and some time later bore our daughter,

my first daughter after bearing four sons,

the same baby girl I cuddled dead in my arms

at the massacre of Santa Cruz.

Excuse me, again please. I need a rest."

And 'A' stretched her legs

and spread her body on her back upon the floor

and stared blankly at the ceiling for a few moments,

then in a low voice, whined, and quickly sat up again.

"And before that... on December 7, 1975

there was the invasion of East Timor ...

Operation Lotus...

from Indonesian military primarily trained on Bali,

the only Hindu island in a vast Muslim land.

One third of us, of our entire population,

were slaughtered in the first several months.

Over 200,000 people.

A genocide unmatched in scale

by the death of Russians during the Second World War,

or according to western newspapers

even by the devil himself, Pol Pot,

doing his own work simultaneously.

And two days before the invasion -

with an irony so vast and hideous

it continues to this day

to mask itself in shame -

on December 5, 1975

US President Gerald Ford and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger

were wrapping up meetings in Jakarta, Indonesia

giving their blessings, their money, their weapons,

and their military expertise

for training their puppet Indonesian army

for the quick and dirty deed

of a secret genocide

of the people of East Timor.

And if there is a lesson to this story

it is, without a doubt, this:

Of course neither Ford nor Kissinger

are genocidal,

nor was their blessing to invade

ever described as such.

But they knew from

a wide range of their own intelligence,

and in their secret hearts,

that genocide would happen.

And it mattered,

compared to the expediency of capital markets,

not even the droppings of a mouse.

And before that

For all of two or three weeks

we had just begun to taste the freedom

we had long prayed and thirsted for

by democratically and peacefully gaining our independence

from centuries of Portuguese colonial rule.

Only days of freedom

viciously taken away from a kind and a deserving

and peace loving people.

And why?

For direct US control of strategic sea lanes for their ships and submarines,

for direct or indirect US control of newly found oil fields,

for the US to make nice with a monopolistic, capital-market dictator, Suharto,

who had already committed genocide among his own countrymen

ostensibly out of fear of Communism,

in reality out of fear of losing the unspeakable wealth

he had recently stolen from his very own people.

And finally, not to forget the icing on the cake,

the Ford-Kissinger team accomplished these objectives,

by sending this muscle bound,

American-armed Muslim crusade

to slaughter a virtually unarmed Christian people.

Each of us has a point, Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien,

where we will draw a line in the sand, do we not?

Here I draw the line.

And your people call this terrorism?

You asked me to tell my story.

As you know, Mr. O'Brien,

We Christians do not call holy

our unending train of wars.

We simply say they're justifiable,

validated by history

and by the will of God,

by virtue of the fruits of righteous nations

and the rule of canon law."

And here, 'A' stood up and left the room.

*******
(End of Chapter 24.)

Tokyo Twins Chapter 23 - The roots of terrorism, part one.

2007-04-22T20:19:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

"I am from East Timor..." 'A" continued her story...

"...or Timor Leste as we say in Portuguese, a free nation since May of 2002, saved from 27 years of relentless slaughter of US backed armed forces from Indonesia.

And yet today we have become something we never were before... a troubled and divided people. And why? Because of politics? Religion? Ethnic background?

No.

Because of this, Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien." and 'A' pulled more dollar bills from her vest pocket and lifted slightly the hoods of Henry and Mieko, and placed the them against their lips.

"Open your mouths." she said. "Now bite down. Thank you."

"This is the taste of money - an irresistible taste, wouldn't you say? And make no mistake about it, it's the taste of the US dollar, today, the formal currency of our free nation." 'A'-san spat at the knees of Henry and Mieko.

She removed the bills from their mouths, and grabbed a rifle from 'B' holding now one in each hand. And lifted up the rifles and placed them on the lips of the half hooded couple.

"Open your mouths." she said. "And this is the taste of a gun barrel.

Now let's do a little survey, shall we?

Which one, given the choice - the gun barrel or the money - would you rather consume right now?

"I'm awaiting your answers, please!" 'A' demanded.

"The money." Henry and Mieko said, mouths dry and voices cracked and shaking.

"Very good. Then you understand completely the two weapons used insidiously against our people for almost three decades in a rather well known imperial strategy called "life or death", "feast or famine", "divide and conquer".

"Many of our villages took the money. But more than many did not. The ones that took the money took up arms for Indonesia as militia. The ones that didn't were either killed in genocide, or somehow stayed alive. Yes I am using the word genocide. But I'm getting ahead of myself a bit.

The survivors secretly organized. Even after sixteen years, any hint of public criticism of the militia or the Indonesian regime meant instant death.

And it was indeed after sixteen years of this vicious domination, in the year 1991, that our old Imperial landlords announced with the United Nations a delegation to be sent to our land to investigate the possibility of infractions of human rights.

We the people of East Timor, the resistance, got word of this visit, and secretly, out of a hope that could not be slaughtered, began making banners to announce to this delegation our nightmare for an entire generation.

At the last minute, the delegation canceled their trip. And our hopes were trampled upon. There was no one in this world who would ever notice us, or the agony we endure.

A few hundred of these organizers, boys and young men mostly, were found out, and chased by secret police and Indonesian military and local militia into a Catholic church. Oh... I didn't mention? I am, like most of my people, and like you, Mr. O'Brien, a Roman Catholic.

But this was not the sanctuary they thought it would be. The Indonesian forces entered the church and after much chaos and many beatings of these boys, brought forth two young men. One, the informer - the plant - who identified our youth. Two, Sebastião Gomes, the leader of these young men.

Both were executed right there, inside the church, with gun shots to their bellies. A rather painful way to die, wouldn't you say, Mrs. O'Brien - your own courageous samurai would commit suicide by stabbing themselves in the gut, but usually accompanied by "a second" standing over them with a sword for quickly decapitating and ending the unimaginable pain of such a slow and deadly wound. No such mercy was granted in this case.

There was a funeral mass held for Sebastião , with burial in Santa Cruz cemetery. I was there with my constant companion, my one-year-old infant daughter. Two weeks later, a traditional mourning was held for Sebastião. It began with a small number in the center of town, but, gradually grew. This was a traditional mourning, not a public gathering, not a protest. But it gradually became one. Office workers, day laborers, old people and students began joining the procession in this beautiful sharing of the pain and suffering we had all endured for so so many years. The procession was peaceful and cleansing, and there was a healing sadness and joy among us. Some of the students brought forth the banners made for the canceled UN-Portuguese delegation announcing the unthinkable abuses put upon us.

And I stood with my baby girl wrapped snug on my back with hundreds of people at the cemetery wall outside the gates, waiting to enter. We hadn't realized until it was too late that hundreds of Indonesian soldiers, each carrying an American made automatic rifle, were marching in slow and deliberate progress, behind us, along the route we had just walked.

When they were so close, as you might say Mr. O'Brien, that we could see the whites of their eyes, they raised their rifles and began to fire upon us all. I was immediately hit in the left shoulder and my baby was on my back, and I twisted her around to my chest going to the ground to lie upon her, to protect her from being shot.

But it was too late. The bullet that pierced my shoulder, pierced her little heart and I knew at once that she was dead in my cradled body that was still trying to protect her.

I was trampled by people trying to flee. But there was no where for anyone to go. I was then trampled by soldiers who picked off at point blank those who dared to raise their heads or even cry out loud. I played dead... and prayed I soon would be. This slaughter went on for an hour, the soldiers streaming through the cemetery gate, jumping the walls, taking cover behind tomb stones to pick off at random any man, woman or child that moved.

Were it not for the presence of a couple courageous American reporters - who actually confronted the front line of this firing squad - and a cameraman inside the cemetery who got it all on tape - the world would have been, as in the prior sixteen years, oblivious to this carnage.

You know what? I forgot to finish making tea. Would you pardon me a moment?"

Tokyo Twins Chapter 22 - Shinjuku downunder again. A deadheat piano duet. A teching on losing your career in Japan. And a parable of Buddha.

2007-04-22T20:12:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 22 - Shinjuku downunder again. A dead heat piano duet. A teaching on losing your career in Japan. And a parable of Buddha.

(Here is the link to Chapter 21.)

"You're impossible." said Yamoto-san.

"What?" Kenji said.

"And amazing." she added.

"What?" he asked.

"You bring together people on the street

from all over Tokyo,

and for what?...

... mission improbable?

Satchitananda-san my friend, we don't even know what's going on?

Yet everybody's happy about it."

She moved in the night, still Saturday,

through low branches of plum trees

near Shinjuku Station.

And kept an eye on her friend, Kenji.

"Okay. This is it. This is the place we've chosen. It's outta the way. But it's pretty much a straight slip into the sink.

"Let's see," said Kenji.

And Yamoto-san lifted and swung off to one side

a sizeable section of turf

apparently fixed upon plywood,

and then grabbed her friend by the hand

and led him into the black interior of the earth

and she said, "Don't move

while I reach up and slide this board over,

humph, thank you, all done. I hope you know

what you're doing?"

she went on, leading him half in crawl and half in slide

into nothing at all but black.

"Well Yamoto-san, let's put it this way.

It is unquestionably what we are going to do,

and beyond that?

I don't have a clue."

"Would it bother you," she said,

"if I told you I think you are lying through your teeth?"

She could feel Kenji's smile in the dark.

"No. Not at all." he said.

*******

[In the Tokyo Metropolitan Sewer System below Shinjuku Station.]

"Let's go over the plan on Tuesday morning around 9:00?

That good for each of the nine coordinator?" Kenji said.

"Just the same old question for you, Satchitananda-san.

Who or what is being delivered?" asked one of the nine,

with the rest shaking their heads out of frustration.

"There will be two people," said Kenji. And you will know them by a password.

"Which is...?" another voice called out to him.

"Which is I still don't know yet."

"This is getting frustrating for us." said another.

"You're asking us to do a lot here.

And we really don't know what's going on."

"And I commend you for your patience and dedication.

If you'd like to know fully what this is all about,

here is what to do, after your mission:

go to the nearest TV and tune in Fuji Television Network."

"And if we don't?" someone asked.

"No sweat. Next morning, just consult any newspaper headline,

radio news broadcast, or morning television show.

It'll all be there.

No more questions?

Good. I must be on my way." Kenji said while already to the secret exist.

"Wait! What's the damn password!?"

"I still don't know yet!"

"How are we going to find these two people?!"

"I still don't know yet!"

"This guy's too much." a man said outload.

"Where are you going?" asked another.

"I have flute recital in the morning."

"A flute recital? Well, knock `em dead," Yamoto-san said in sarcasm.

*******

Katie and Susan O'Brien awoke early Sunday morning

And silently set up the computer, the microphone,

double checked the settings,

and told Oba-chan when she checked in on them

that they had already eaten breakfast and did the cleaning up.

Oba-chan headed back for the comfort of her futon.

And then they sat by the window,

watching and waiting

for their Uncle, the flautist, to arrive.

At nine o'clock there was no sign of him.

At five minutes after nine, there was still no sign,

Except for the complaints and worries

Of nervous and impatient fourteen year old twin sisters.

There was back and forth in whines and moans.

Until one of them

finally said, "Let's get started."

And the other said, "What if he doesn't show up?"

And the one said, "Let's not think about that."

And the other said, "Okay."

"Who's gonna play grandfather's lullaby?" said Susan.

"You play it, Susan. I'll watch the recording. And the window.

"I'm too nervous to play it right now." said Susan.

"Oh come on, Susan! Okay, I'll play it. No wait."

Now I'm too nervous." Katie said.

"Okay. Loser plays it." said Katie.

"Rock sissors paper." They both said allowed

and pumped their right hands three times.

Tie.

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie again.

"Rock scissors paper...

Oh come on with this tie crap." Said Susan.

Rock scissors paper.

Tie.

No use. Katie said.

"That was four times."

"Eew, four. Bad luck."

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"What's our record?"

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"Thirteen."

"Been a long time ago."

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"We were eight. Remember?"

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"Yeah, over the Pacific, right?"

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"Fifty thousand feet."

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

Yeah! We drew a crowd in coach class!"

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"That was fun."

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"Wait. How many was..."

"Ten." said Katie.

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

Eleven.

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

Twelve.

"Oh wow."

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"Thirteen."

Here we go.

"Rock scissors paper."

Tie.

"Fourteen."

They stopped.

"New record."

"That's weird."

"Ya know what?" Katie said.

"What?" said Susan.

"I think I can play it now."

"Me too!" said Susan laughing.

"I'll take the bass." said Katie.

"Good. I got the top, and let me just hit record button here on the screen. Ready?

"Just a sec." Katie said.

And Katie and Susan O'Brien sat at the piano

and stretched their arms and wrists and hands

and in syncopation, breathed and sighed aload and

nodded their heads in eye contact, and began to play

their American grandfather's lullaby at a slow and yearning pace.

And sat quietly a few moments when they finished.

"Grandpa calls it a 'Negro Spiritual'.

"Yeah."

"What black slaves might have sung.."

"..to sooth themselves at night."

"I think he did write lyrics for it." Katie said.

"I don't think so." said Susan.

"Doesn't need `em, does it." said Katie.

"It's soothing enough without words."

"Yeah."

"Still no Uncle Flautist."

And Susan began playing from memory

the melody from Satchitananda and his flute.

"That's it!" Katie said. "That's it. Good.

Keep it going. Don't stop the recording."

And Katie began filling in with a sparse and

And wondering and waltz-like bass line.

And the two continued playing Uncle Kenji's theme,

over and over,

moving their heads in slow motion up and down,

And losing track of time.

"You remembered," came a voice from behind them.

"Satchitananda-san!"

"Uncle! Where have you been?"

You remembered, girls. Very good."

"How did you..."

"I'm sorry, Katie and Susan...

I was outside listening the whole time,

wondering how you might solve this problem,

and then wondering if you'd remember the other melody or not?"

The girls gave Kenji big, serious frowns and angry eyes.

"Very good. I'm proud of you.

It's not easy to remember the things

we hardly know when we're under the gun, is it?" said Kenji.

"No, it's not easy." the girls said.

"But you did remember, and then you acted on it."

"Yeah." the girls said.

"Very good."

"What about your flute? Will you play for us?"

"Oh, um. Unfortunately for me, at least,

it's not easy to remember

even the things I know well

when I am under the gun.

You're way ahead of me on that, girls."

"Which means what about your flute?" Katie said.

"Which means I lost it." Kenji said. And paused.

"What's already recorded sounds wonderful, girls.

Perhaps that is enough?"

"Alright." said Katie. "Susan, let's get it edited and converted."

"Uncle Kenji, look!" Susan said. "People in Hebi-yama."

"And dogs!" said Katie.

"It's okay." Kenji said.

"They'll find you!" said Susan.

"It's okay. I'll go out the front door. I better go now."

"What if they...?"

"It's okay. I'll meet you on the train a bit later."

"How?" said Katie.

And their Uncle Kenji was already gone.

*******

"Our careers are sunk." Said Kaneko-san.

"That or tanshinfunin," added Taya-san.

"Tanshinfunin." Kaneko was shaking his head. "I'd rather be dead."

"What is tanshinfunin?" came a voice from the back seat.

The agents swung around their heads and shoulders

and there was Kenji lounging in the back seat,

feet up and head rested on the window.

"Good morning." Kenji said smiling. "What is tanshinfunin?"

The agents were opened-mouthed and stunned silent.

"Well?"

"How did you..." Kaneko-san started.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen. I asked first." said Kenji.

"Don't you move." said Taya-san.

"Do I look mobile? Now please. Do tell."

"We'll get transferred to the boondocks forever..."

Kaneko-san started saying, "that's tanshinfunin."

"What are you doing?" Taya barked at Kaneko.

"He's answering my question. Please continue."

"You get put away... from your family,

your friends, in some office far away from home...."

"Ouch." Said Kenji.

"At least six hours by bullet train away from home." Kaneko-san added.

"...for two, three years." said Taya-san.

"A punishment we may have nipped in the bud," he continued,

"thank you for turning yourself in."

"Thank you for the explanation, Kaneko-san.

Gentlemen, I'll be on my way.

Now, if you'll look for just a moment

at the chaos taking place in Hebi-yama..."

And behold, there was Oba-chan

in her robe and sneekers,

stomping through the bamboo stalks

and waving her arms

and screaming with profound articulation

at the agents and dogs

covering the bamboo jungle.

The agents in the car turned back around to look.

Then turned around once again to speak to Kenji,

But Kenji was already gone.

*******

"I don't see him." Katie said.

Come on, we either hop on this train,

or we'll be late for practice."

Katie and Susan slipped through

the closing doors of the train at Fuda Station,

and with their gear bags slung over their shoulders,

they leaned and bumped their way

in search of standing-room

through the crowded car

of Sunday shoppers headed for Shinjuku.

Each grabbed with one hand an empty handle from the ceiling

and each grabbed with the other,

her sister's palms and fingers,

weaving what they had into one.

And in and out of the clack and rhythm

and intermittent shuffles of the train,

upon the eyes of Katie and Susan

and on the muscles of their cheeks and foreheads,

fear and despair was quickly regaining lost ground.

"There you are," came the voice of Satchitananda.

"And there you are!" the girls said breaking into a smile.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." said Katie.

"No." Susan said.

"Okay. No." said Katie.

"What is it you're feeling?" Kenji said.

And at once the girls began to cry

in wordless sobbing and half-muttered agonies,

then gasping for a breath,

then sobbing.

Kenji looked at and put his arms around

and squeezed the shoulders and heads

of his two grand-nieces.

"Let's take a pit stop at Shimotakaido Station,

And get ourselves a drink,

and a tiny bit of rest." said Kenji.

And Katie and Susan O'Brien sat on a bench

without discretion and with great effort

to gain some control over the sobs

and began to settle down a bit,

whenKenji returned with hot green tea

for all.

"We can't really stop, Uncle Kenji. We're almost late.

"Katie and Susan, tell me now, what it is you're feeling."

"I don't know." said Susan.

"We're afraid." Katie said.

Yeah. Okay. No kiddin. We're afraid." Susan said.

"I understand," said Kenjji.

"Our mother and father may be killed in two days."

The girls squeezed harder on their hands.

Kenji remained silent.

"What can be done?" said Susan.

"How can you stop one person from taking the life of another person?"

They looked at Kenji's eyes

and could see some kind of understanding,

and could see his willingness to talk about it.

"Hmm. Good question." Kenji began.

"Let's get up and continue to the Setagaya Line,

and we'll talk along the way.

"Many years ago, I was lucky to hear a story

told to me by a young saint

traveling alone through the mountains of Nepal

where I was in silence for quite some time.

"Young saint?" the girls asked.

"He was sixteen or seventeen years old." said Kenji.

"How did you know he was a saint?" Katie asked.

Kenji chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't know. I just knew he was."

"And he told you a story...." Susan said.

"Yes. This young saint said that Buddha was once traveling alone through land that was new to him. And in this land there lived a vicious mass-murderer whose name was Angulimala,
and whose favorite target were those unfortunate individuals he happened to discover traveling alone.

Angulimalawas famous for collecting the thumbs of his victims
on a necklace he wore around his neck.

He was determined to collect one thousand pairs of thumbs on this necklace. And it just so happened that on the auspicious day when he was but a single pair of thumbs short of his dream of one-thousand, he met a lone traveler in this land. And this traveler happened to be Buddha.

Angulimala directly approached Buddha
and with a big display and loud voice
stood before him and proclaimed,
"I am the feared and vicious Angulimala ,
famous for murdering
nine hundred and ninety-nine people
and collecting their thumbs
on this necklace you see here.
All in a proud and glorious effort
to have a proud and glorious necklace
of one thousand pairs of thumbs,
and you, poor soul," Angulimala said,
drilling his intimidating stare
upon the eyes of Buddha,
"are at last my final victim."

"Is that a fact," responded Buddha,
not biting at the bait
that dangled before him
to capture his anger or his panic or his fear.

And Buddha continued with a calm and friendly voice,
"Isn't that interesting. Me. Your final victim."
The words were spoken quietly, directly,
and with compassion and respect:
"Now then, Angulimala-san,
I stand here patiently,
I stand here honored
to welcome you, and
to be delivered whatever it is
you wish to do to me.
You may attack me at your will."

And for the first time in his murderous life,
Angulimala was struck by the understanding,
and alas - the compassion! - of his murderous ways.

And from the power of Buddha's opening heart,
Angulimala fell to his knees
sobbing helplessly like a child
who was feeling loved
and feeling it all brand new.

Buddha comforted the murderer
until he was able to stand up again
and invited Angulimala to walk along with him.

Angulimala did so.
In fact, he did so for quite some time.
And after seven or eight years of walking with Buddha,
Angulimala became, like his teacher, enlightened.

And soon was sent away by Buddha
to walk alone
and to instruct those he might find along his own path.

And one day Angulimala happened unwittingly
upon a village he had forgotten had suffered
many deaths at his very own hands years before.

And the people of this village recognized him
as the murderer that had taken away
so many of their loved ones,
and they attacked him,
and Angulimala fell to his knees
in surrender to these people as they beat him.

And Angulimala remained surrendered
and curled upon the ground
during this vast and furious beating
brought down upon him
by a considerable majority of people in this village.

After a time, the people became exhausted
of their beating and their passion,
and then also became bewildered
at the surrender
of this vicious mass-murderer,
and his acquiescence toward them
and of their venting anger.

So the people of the village
stopped their beating of Angulimala.
And let him lay there in a great pool of blood
while their victim simply continued
to ask for nothing but their forgiveness.

Angulimala survived the beating
and resolved to remain in and serve
the people of this village.

Years later, many people from that town
became enlightened through Angulimala`s
patient and artful teachings.

And that is the story
of "Buddha and Angulimala"
told to me by this young saint
as he was walking through Nepal
many years ago.

"What was his name,

the name of this saint?" Katie asked.

"I only later heard some people

refer to him as "Punditji.

They say he was born and raised and lives now

in the city of Bangalore, India." Kenji said.

"Now?"

"Yes." said Kenji.

"Oh! And here you are, your destination.

And please forgive me, girls,

I will remain aboard

and will see you at home this evening."

"But... but....". the girls tried to speak.

"Have a good practice." Kenji said.

And the girls tripped out of the train car,

And the doors of the train car closed,

and the train itself was fading from view,

as was - in a disappearing window -

their uncle's smiling face,

and then the girls remembered

they forgot to lift their arms

or to raise their voices

to wave

or to say goodbye.

"We didn't even ..." Katie started saying,

shaking her head

and throwing up her hands.

"... no, we sure as hell didn't." said Susan.

And the two began kicking pebbles beneath them

Yet feeling better, and so noticing it in surprise,

neither, of course, had foreseen

the sudden "what-is-this?" emptying-out

Of something stuck inside,

something old and dark and dense.

And then creating "what-is-this?" anew,

some ancient and quiet and familiar vacancy

now expanding in a lively wakefulness

inside each of them.

*******

End of Chapter 22 - Shinjuku downunder again. A dead heat piano duet. A teaching on losing your career in Japan. And a parable of Buddha.

Note: The parable, above, is adapted from a talk given by Sri Sri Ravi Shankar years ago as part of a verbal commentary containing thirty public talks on the Bhakti Sutras. The parable, though not repeated verbatim from Sri Sri, does contain, imo, Sri Sri's own dash of knowledge often not apart of this ancient and often told parable.

...

Tokyo Twins Chapter 21 - East is not east, nor is west.

2007-04-22T19:35:00.000-05:00

a serialized online story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 21 - East is not east. Nor is west.

(Here is the link to Chapter 20.)

After their meal

inside the mountainous hideaway

near the border of Kashmir

there was a knock on the door.

'A' gave 'B' the nod

and 'B' found the old man

returning for the dishes.

"Let him in," 'A' said.

And the old man, his head still covered

began gathering the dishes on a board he carried in.

"Can we now, 'A'-san, hear your story?"

"Mrs. O'Brien, there is nothing for you to know now.

It's too late for that."

"Never too late," the old man mumbled to himself.

"Who is this old man who speaks up!?" 'A' ordered,

"Secure him, now. Next to those two. Put a hood on him, and

put theirs back on, too."

'A' stood watching the backs of her prisoners

and feeling, just now, more nervous than angry.

"Go find out the background on this man." 'A' said.

She had eaten behind her prisoners

to keep her anonymity.

And paced before them once again.

"What is the telling of a story, Mrs. O'Brien," she began saying,

"to one so close to death.

Will it carry on with you?

For the betterment -- or for the terror, perhaps --

of souls in another realm?"

Mieko O'Brien began crying under her hood.

And suddenly screamed out, "Why are you so angry?!"

'A' placed the end of an automatic rifle

against Mieko's forehead, and slowly leaned into the stock and barrel

until her prisoner nearly fell over backward.

"You have no idea what anger is, Mrs. O'Brien," she said,

pulling the barrel away.

"And you have no idea what causes it."

"Can I say... " Mieko began.

Quiet.

You want my story.

Here it is.

'A' stood quiet for a moment

and stared blankly at the back wall and shook her head.

"The name Pol Pot, is one that everybody knows, is it not?

The demon of Cambodia.

A committer of genocide.

But who made conditions ripe

for his crimes?

You know, Mr. O'Brien, don't you?"

Henry whispered the word and shook his head no.

"No. Of course not, Mr. O'Brien.

How many brain-washed Americans do?

"The United States quietly conducted

horrendous bombing in central Cambodia

during the early 1970s.

Tens of thousands were killed.

Many more than that

perished in the aftermath...

mostly children,

from hunger and disease.

And Pol Pot comes along

and organizes the surviving suffering masses

and continues killings of his own.

"The US news industry

siezed upon the demonizing of Pol Pot,

without a twinge of self-reflection

upon the desperate rivers of blood

let loose, unseen, from 20,000 feet.

Is there something more sanitary,

or more sporting perhaps, Mr. O'Brien,

about bombing from high altitudes

entire populations of children, women and men

compared to the manual slaughtering

of these human beings with a machete?

"Here we have a digusting set of facts

just a bit too sour for the delicate palatte of the American public,

and far too rotten for the capital market wolves

that guard the US Defense Industry

to ever taste outloud in a quarterly financial report.

"What's more disgusting

if you can imagine

the hideous possibility of such:

"As Pol Pot was doing his thing in Cambodia,

the US was quietly directing genocide

elsewhere in the world."

'A' began to boil water for tea over a make shift wood stove.

"I don't get the connections," said Henry O'Brien.

'A' clenched her teeth and poured water into a pot.

"I'm just getting started." she said.

(end of Chapter 21)

* * * * * * *

Tokyo Twins Chapter 20 - Meet up and meet downs.

2007-04-22T19:31:00.000-05:00

an online serialized story

by Tommy Schmitz

Chapter 20 - Meet ups and meet downs.

Kenji slipped out the window

and now and elsewhere upon the earth --

three and one half hours behind on Kenji's watch --

the boy named Jack O'Brien

was negotiating with his ambassadorial captors.

"Look guys, I haven't had a bowel movement in five days.

and I'm gonna need some privacy to make it happen,

and it's a good idea for it to happen now;

so do you mind...

I'm just gonna walk behind that brush over there,

and alone, please?"

His captors were holding Jack

on a hilly and scratchy-dry patch of land

about 200 meters from the checkpoint between India and Kashmir.

Jack was raising his eyebrows and smiling big and rapidly nodding his head.

The rifled soldiers surrounding Jack

looked up at the man in the sunglasses,

who nodded once his head in allowance.

And the captors, all five, watched Jack walk the 30 meters

and then behind the brush;

and they watched too an aging SUV

pop out of pure dust

and over a north ridge nearby

and make a lateral bee-line for Jack

and they heard the sounds of a car door that opened and closed,

and witnessed a semi-circle of dirt and dust clouds

spraying off all four wheels like some organic curtain.

And they looked then at one other with mouths agape

somehow knowing

that for the remainder of their lives,

they would never again

set eyes upon

the boy named Jack O'Brien.

* * * * * * *

"I like your timing." said Jack.

"Almost caught ya with your pants down, huh." said Lilu, Jack's friend from school

"You wish, Lilu."

"Nothing we ain't seen before, oh Jackie boy."

"Hey, Fariishta . Sooooo good to see you guys."

Jack was wiping with his shirt the sweat and dust off his face.

"Can't believe you're here." Jack said,

all eyes in shining, all voices cranked.

"It's our meet up, Jack."

"Yeah, we been watching ya."

"From where." Jack said.

"Just over ridge." said Lilu.

"Slipped the guys on the other side a bonus." Fariishta went on...

"Two hundred bucks."

"Made their day." said Lilu.

"Made mine too." said Jack. "So, what's on the agenda?"

"Ya mean besides you movin your bowels?" the girls laughed.

"Come on guys, give me a break." Jack said.

"Remember that group trying to recruit us --

over the net - several months ago?"

"That one from up around here? - secretive? - bunch a kids our age?"

"That's the one, Jackie boy." Fariishta said.

"and we thought they were just kiddin around?"

"they're not."

"how many of 'em are there?"

"thousands, my friend, thousands."

"What the hell is going on?" Jack said.

"they hooked up with some lady from the outside." Fariishta explained.

"...invited her up here."

"and she's now their leader." said Lilu.

"their leader. where's she from?"

"East Timor."

"Where the fuck is East Timor."

"You wouldn't remember, but Lilu actually did her 10th grade thesis

on East Timor." Fariishta said.

"You're right," said Jack, "I can't even remember my own 10th grade thesis."

Sure you wanna know, Jackie? said Fariishata/

"Lay it on me, Far-away-girl," Jack said,

using his pet nickname for his friend.

"Okay. Listen up."

"Wait a sec. What's the situation with my parents?"

"Um... they u-tubed a video in the wee hours."

"It went out over the news wires.

"Can I see it?"

"Ah. Yeah, but listen-up first." Lilu said.

* * * * * * *

Later that night, still Saturday, Kenji flipped open his cell phone

walking in the park near Shinjuku Station.

A woman tapped him from behind on the shoulder.

And Kenji turned and smiled.

"Who needs cell phones? Good evening, Yamato-san."

"We've been on the lookout for you, Sensei."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that." Kenji said.

"You seem like a teacher to us."

"Let's see if we can keep our relationship on the same level...

you know my name, Yamato-san." Kenji said.

"Follow-me, we're taking another path down under."

"Sounds right up my alley."

And she led him by the hand through darkness and to a covered man hole.

"Katie-Susan-chan. Come here, girls."

Katie and Susan O'Brien walked from their bedroom back into

the living room and wrapped their arms and legs

around their grandmother on the floor.

"Are you crying, Obá-chan?" said Susan.

"No." Obá-chan said, tears streaming down her cheeks faster than she can wipe them off.

"Why is all this happening, Obá-chan?

"Girls. Listen to me now.

Obá-chan may be taken away."

"Because of Satchitananda-san?"

"Yes." She paused and wiped her cheeks again.

"That's not fair." said Susan.

" Obá-chan ?" Katie said.

"What's going to happen to Mom and Dad?"

"Their message on the television cannot be serious, can it?" continued Katie.

"I don't... I hope not girls, but for now, just in case, I want you to promise me three things."

"We know, Obá-chan." Susan said.

"Okay. I trust you. You are good girls,

and you will do so well in your national trials meet on Wednesday."

"Somehow you know we will, Obá-chan." said Susan.

And Katie was nodding her head. "That's the one thing we can hang onto, Obá-chan."

"Besides you." said Susan.

* * * * * * *

Tokyo Twins Chapter 19 - The unseen route.

2007-04-22T19:21:00.000-05:00

by Tommy Schmitz

A stray cat took to stalking Kenji and the girls from the night,

on their brief hike home to finally eat dinner.

The croaking armies were just tuning up.

"A rice paddy on a Tokyo night in Spring... " Kenji began saying in mock formality...

"...plays host to a misplaced Alabama yearning."

"But not misguided." Katie extended the mock.

"Excellent point Katie. It does serve the purpose of life." said Kenji.

The cat raced in front of the three and stopped.

"And Mr. Cat, how are you doing this evening?"

The girls laughed.

Kenji crouched down and scratched under the cat's chin.

"You don't say? Adventure awaits us at home? Is that it?"

Kenji turned his face to the girls. "He is warning us... in a friendly way."

"Is there cause for alarm, Mr. Cat?" Kenji said.

"Hmmm. I see." he responded to the cat.

"No cause for alarm, girls."

"Well Mr. Cat, you've been most helpful. Is there anything we can do for you this evening,

Kenji looked at the cat.

"I see." he said.

Then to the girls, "He says he's hungry now, but under present circumstances, he can wait a couple hours.

"Then come to my hut this evening, Mr. Cat. And we'll dine together. About ten-ish then?

Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention , Mr. Cat. It's a pleasure to meet you.

The three continued walking and the cat ran off.

"Were you really talking to that cat, Satchitananda-san?"

"I don't think so", the other said.

Mr. Cat was talking to me more than I was talking to him.

"I'm hungry," said Katie.

And all three stepped up their pace.

From a distance they could see Obachan

standing outside with the two Foreign Ministry agents.

Another car then stopped in front, its lights turning off,

and another two men got out.

*******

The walkers could hear one of the them.

"Who are these men, O né-san...

and who is that man ahead walking with Katie-Susan-chan..."

Obá-chan spoke up. "Taya-san, Kaneko-san, these are my younger brothers.

Takanosuke Mori, president of Fuji Television Network and Tetsuo Mori, president of Fuji Sports Television.

Bows and name cards were quickly exchanged.

Takanosuke examined the cards of the agents. "What's the Foreign Ministry doing here at night?" he said.

Obá-chan grabbed the forearms of the agents. And walked them away from her brothers.

"Gentlemen, may I have a word with you for a moment in private....

My brothers are here,

and they haven't seen their cousin from Guam

in decades. Would you be so kind postponing your questioning

of Sachinosuke Mori-san for just one hour?"

"We merely want to check his passport mame.

It's an order from our Ministry's highest level. Taya-san said.

"We have no questions for him, and no further interest." Kaneko-san added.

"Gentleman. I appreciate your situation, but please understand mine as well.

This is a delicate and emotional family situation that is presently upon us.

Please. Give us an hour.

And then you can spend the rest of the evening

with our cousin if that's what you'd like."

And Obá-chan stepped away suddenly from the agents.

The girls were running now to greet their uncles.

"Hello Oooji" they both repeated.

"Cousin, welcome home, thank you for entertaining Katie and Susan this evening."

The brothers in suits stood still and silent and an unanticipated recognition hit them like a tsunami.

The girls hugged their great uncles tightly and pulled them by the hands inside.

And Obá-chan wrapped her arms around Kenji walking with him and speaking in a whisper,

"The agents want to see your passport, Kenji-san, I've bought us an hour delay. Your brothers are here."

"I see. Thank you, O né-san."

Obá-chan, her three brothers, and Katie and Susan

gathered standing up in the living room.

"Younger brothers?" she said looking at the two in suits.

"This is your younger brother."

The older brothers kept looking at the floor.

"Huh?!" Katie cried out, "We have never heard his name, Obá-chan! Why?

"His name is Kenji." Obá-chan barely whispered.

"His name is Satchitananda!" Susan cried.

"Why has this been a secret for so many years." said Katie.

"Do Mom and Dad know about Kenj-san? Susan said.

Obá-chan shook her head a bit.

"He is your younger brother? And your younger brother? And your younger brother?"

she said. And with an arm and hand extended, she pointed impolitely.

"Did you all think he was dead?" said Susan.

"Well aren't you happy to see each other, you brothers?!" Katie said.

The middle brother breaks into weeping and Kenji walks to him and hugs him....

The oldest brother says "I don't see why we're having to go through this now

and under these difficult circumstances."

Obá-chan cuts in, "Just a moment please... brother..."

"Why would you come here now," the older brother continues....

"this family buried this suffering long long ago.

... and today your timing is not good.

Kenji stood quietly and listened, relaxed and aware.

The girls leaned nervously on each other.

Obá-chan held back her tears.

"Excuse me," older brother continues, "I'm leaving. My apologies, Kenji-san, perhaps some other time."

"Some other time" Kenji says.

"Brother, are you coming?"

"I'll call a taxi later ... older brother.... thank you."

And Takanosuke Mori walked to his car

and drove away unaware of an extra dose of eye contact from the agents.

"I'll start some tea," said Susan.

"Me too." Katie said.

"I am sorry, my brothers, I am sorry.

I did not know any other way to do this. But I felt it necessary."

Tetsuo Mori was still breathing heavily from his now dissapating weep, and he spoke,

"I don't know what got into older brother..."

Obá-chan was shaking her head and staring at the floor, and she then spoke,

"Younger brother, please hear Kenji's story and how he came here to help us."

And with Obá-chan's urging and leading and filling-in here and there...

Kenji related his story to his brother.

*******

When he finished, the three sat in silence a few moments.

"And you're here without a passport?" became older brother's words.

"Yes." Kenji said.

"How did you get in?"

"I cannot explain that to you right now."

"But right now, Obá-chan says,

"Kenji needs to go into hiding somehow...

Kenji? I'm sorry. OR would it be easier

to turn yourself over right now. I am sorry."

"With your permission, O né-san, it is not quite time for me to be in custody." Kenji said.

"I'll go away from the neighborhood. ...Oh..." He looked at his watch.

"Right after my dinner appointment commencing a few moments from now."

"What's he talking about." Obá-chan said.

"He has a dinner appointment." the one said.

"He does." said the other.

"Who on earth with?"

Kenji stepped into the conversation. "With Mr. Cat from the neighborhood,

who was kind enough to make himself useful this evening,

now if you'll excuse me, sister, brother, Katie and Susan....

I'll just mosey-on to the back of the house and depart."

"Wait, Otouto-san, I have a question. You left out part of your story."

"You know..." Her pace slowed now.

"...about the night of the bombing?...

"...when someone else in the family..."

"also suffered and continues to suffer today."

Middle brother looked confused.

"Yes." said Kenji.

"Could that other person be ... ?" and her voice deleted at the breath,

the name she intended to say... and switched gears...

"... be connected to why your eldest brother just now stormed away...

...and is there something you'd like to tell us about that?"

"O né-san, you are a brilliant sister. And you ask a good question.... but..." Kenji was interrupted.

"Remember, you promised you'd explain...

maybe now is a perfect time?"

"I am sorry, I cannot relate the story at this time, O né-san.

But you will know it. And soon." said Kenji.

"You are still insufferable!" Obá-chan said.

"What about tomorrow morning Satchitananda-san!"

The girls stood ready - not to be left out.

"We have to record your flute tomorrow morning."

"Oh, that's right. Don't worry. I'll meet you in your room at 9:00a.m. sharp."

"I think I'll just disappear somewhere." said Obachan and rolled her eyes at hopelessness.

"We'll have everything ready." said Susan.

"Good. Until then?"

"Oyasuminasai, Oooji." said Katie.

And out of bows and hugs, Kenji left the room,

and snatched a can of tuna fish

from a cupboard along the way.

"My apologies gentleman... this is highly embarrassing to me I assure you,"

Oba-chan had stepped out to speak to the agents.

"...but our cousin seems to have disappeared.

And we're not sure why.

Perhaps there is some problem he has that we are not aware of?"

"You let him escape?" said Kaneko-san.

"Certainly not! He was here a moment ago... and now he's gone.... what else can I tell you?!"

"We're in trouble." said Taya-san, "We'll have to report it now..."

"he must be in the forest. where else could he hide?" said Kaneko-san and added,

"Is there a photo of this guy?"

Taya-san said nothing.

"No? There's no record of entry, no passport?"

"No we didn't photograph him...

....how were we suppose to know!?

we're in big trouble." and Taya-san

stepped back into the driver's seat of the government car.

(End of Chapter 19)

*******

Tokyo Twins Chapter 18 - The magic flute.

2007-04-20T19:30:00.000-05:00

by Tommy Schmitz

Katie and Susan O'Brien slid

between the closing doors of the Keio Line Train,

and went to school for the usual three hours on Saturday,

their minds, emotions and senses

shifting and tied up,

occupied and elsewhere,

claustrophic and vaporous.

Each felt a new texture of fear.

More real.

Neither would tell the other.

Their teachers,

friends,

other students --

none really understood why they showed up.

Nobody said anything.

The discomfort laid siege to the school,

and it somehow made the girls feel a little better.

The girls left school and walked by themselves to the station,

jumped on the Keio Line to Shimotakaido Station

and transfered to the Setagaya Line.

They talked for the first time in hours along the way.

"You know what?" Katie said.

"Mmm." said Susan.

"I wanna change the music for my routine."

"Mmm. I think I know what you're saying." Susan said.

They stepped off the train at Wakabayashi,

and once again

ran into their coach

walking to the gym.

There were the usual greetings and bows

and smiles, too, nearly took form,

but surfaced anyway

through their eyes.

They continued the three minute walk to the gym.

"I wanna do something different

for my music," Susan said to her.

"Me too," Katie said.

"I don't understand, girls." said the coach.

Susan explained that she wants to use her

grand father's lullaby for her routine.

Katie explained she wants to use Kenji's companion melody.

Inga Godotnova stopped walking.

"It's way too late for doing anything like that!" the coach said.

The girls objected.

They explained the music is not that much different

from what they were already using...

... it was beautiful... it was balletic...

... and it wouldn't change their routine

except for a few steps here and there.

Inga Godotnova objected now.

"This is simply not how things are done, girls.

"It'll take your focus away...

... we choose the music at the beginning

so that you concentrate on your routine...

... not the music."

"But we know this music already... at least the lullaby...." Susan said.

And Katie explained that Kenji's melody already

felt as though it had always been with her.

Inga objected again, "but there is nothing recorded!

"I have to submit these recordings,

along with your planned routines Monday morning!"

"We'll record them..." Katie said.

"We have a good microphone at home...

I'll hook it to my sound card... and record it... our house is very quiet..."

Susan said, "Yeah! and our friend Kenji can record

his flute melody too.... we'll do it tomorrow morning!

The coach objected again,

"This is simply not how things are done, girls!

I understand what you are saying and there are

other meets coming up soon. You know that.

Why not use this music for the meets in September!

"Please" "Please" "Please." the girls begged together.

"It may even help our performance!" Susan said.

"Yeah, it may improve our performance... make us feel more relaxed! Please!" Katie said.

Inga stood shakiing her head for several moments.

"Let me think about it..."

"I'm going to lose my job." Inga mumbled to herself. "Go and practice now!"

"Yea!" the girls said together smiling and running off..."

"I didn't say yes." Inga said, over her shoulder walking away.

"Yea!" Susan says again... "I mean, okay!, we understand!"

and Susan dove onto the floor

next to the five and six year old girls playing....

And Katie dove onto the floor too.

Warm-up began, practice started,

an hour passed, and the girls sat together

during a break and held towels and water.

in their hands.

One of their longtime teammates approached them.

She wasn't a friend, nor an enemy either.

But she looked tense,

and holding fast to some deep upset.

The coach discreetly watched and listened in.

"My mother says your parents have no business in that part of the world."

"Huh?"

"What did you say?"

"My mother says your parents

don't have any business

trying to solve problems so far away.

She's not surprised about what happened."

The girls faces drained of blood in shock.

"Can you believe this?" Katie said out loud to no one.

"I'm gonna knock the crap outta you."

And Katie jumps up and lunges for the girl who quickly moved away.

"Girls! Stop! Come over here right away, you."

The coach stood staring down the teammate now.

"My routines are slipping away as it is." Katie shook her head

and was talking to Susan now.

"I know. I'm not hitting anything today.

Feels like I'm two years behind."

"Why would anyone say something like that?" Katie said.

"Come on." Susan said. "Let's finish training and get outta here."

The girls didn't even wipe off at the end of practice.

They dressed, packed-up and made a bee-line for the door.

"Katie and Susan!" Inga Godotnova yelled out.

The girls stopped with their hands on the door.

The coach ran to them and knelt down.

"I am worried..." the coach paused... "...that you are deciding this music change

because of the tremendous stress on you right now."

"This is not about stress, Sensei."

Katie was nodding her head a bit and slowly in affirmation.

"Okay. Then do it." the coach responded.

"Bring me the recordings tomorrow afternoon. At practice."

And eye contact all around sealed the deal.

********

Thank you, Satchitananda-san, for letting us bring your flute

They were walking to the river

under a gloaming sky and late rising moon.

They didn't feel like eating when they had arrived home,

and told Oba-chan so,

and retired to their room

in silence

and sat on the floor.

An hour or so passed

and both began hearing the soft tones of the flute.

"I think we're being called." said Susan.

And off they went, outside their bedroom window.

"How long have you had it?" said Susan.

"It looks old." Katie said,

and examined the flute more closely with her hands and eyes.

"Somebody said this once belonged to Mahandas Ghandi." Kenji explained,

"It was given to me by my first teacher

at Ghandi's ashram near Amedabhad . . .

it was my sixteenth birthday.

It must be very special to you.

He smiled. "I enjoy playing it."

"You play it well."

"Thank you."

"How was your training today?" Kenji said.

And the girls both began talking rapidly about what their teammate had told them about what her mother had said.

They were crying loudly now, half screaming, half trying to talk.

They arrived at the top of the river levy now,

the girls paying little attention to where they were.

Kenji continued listening until the girls settled down a bit.

And he quietly and slowly began to talk. "Perhaps your teammate, too,

is afraid. Hmmm? If she didn't care,

she'd be feeling nothing about your situation,

like some stranger standing next to you on the train."

"But it's mean!" Katie said.

"Yes, it is." said Kenji.

"It's not fair." Katie continued.

"No, it's not." said Kenji.

And Katie swung her arms up in frustration

and out of her hand flew Kenji's flute high into the air and into the river.

Katie made a bending motion with her knees to dive in and fetch it.

Kenji grabbed her shoulder.

"No. I'll get it." he said.

And like that, Kenji dove straight into the water.

The girls watched with mouths wide open and were screaming and wringing their hands.

And watched.

And watched.

And watched.

Bubbles were coming up and off the moonlight.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh...." the girls were screaming...

"where did he go!"

"ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...."

"I'm going in," Katie cried.

Susan grabbed her from behind in a bear hug.

"No... wait a second... just wait..." Susan insisted.

"No! We have to get him."

Wait. Please.. just a few more seconds....

"I can't wait." Katie said.

Susan held onto Katie.

Katie hands were still wringing,

eyes lasered to the river where Kenji dove in.

They suddenly heard the sound of Kenji's flute.

"huh?" they said together, and spun themselves around.

There was Kenji sitting down at the bottom of the river levy behind them

playing their grandfather's lullaby on the flute.

The girls at once fell to the ground out of breath.

And sat a moment

and continued hearing the flute,

got up, and ran down the hill.

"That was not nice!" Katie yelled.

"How did you do that!" Susan was excited now.

"Do what?" Kenji paused his playing.

"We didn't see you get out of the water!" Katie said.

Kenji continued playing then paused again.

"I didn't do anthing." he said and continued playing.

"How did you get back here?" the one said.

"We would have seen you." said the other.

Once again, he paused. "I dove into the water.

And now I'm here." Kenji said smiling and laughing and continued his playing.

The girls began laughing now too.

"you're a magician!" Susan cried.

"No, I'm not."

"You scared us!" cried Katie.

"I am sorry, Susan and Katie... Are you okay now?"

"Yeah... we're okay." they said together, still trying to catch their breaths.

"How do you feel about what happened today?

"What?" the girls said.

"With your teammate?" said Kenji.

"Huh?" the girls said.

"Oh..." they were laughing again...

"I almost forgot. said Susan.

"Me too." Katie said, still laughing a bit

The girls sat down on either side of Kenji.

And they all rested a moment or two.

"Good. good. good." Kenji then said. "Let's go back up the hill."

"You hold onto the flute." Katie said smiling at Kenji.

Kenji laughed.

"Can we do that thing with the moon and the stars? Susan said as they climbed the hill.

"Sure." said Kenji as they reached the top.

"Let's sit down... and close our eyes."

And take a couple of deep breaths.

"That won't be hard to do." Katie said laughing.

"Let's easily close our eyes." said Kenji.

And he guided them in similar meditation as before by the river.

At the end of meditation Kenji said,

"Let's take a few minutes and slowly,

when you are ready,

open the eyes.

"It was nice?" Kenji asked.

"Yes." the girls said.

"Good. That's something you can do anytime. Together. Alone. Anytime."

"I still wanna know how you did that." said Susan.

"Did what?" smiled Kenji.

Kenji pulled a long piece of grass from the ground

and put the end of it between his lips and teeth.

"You know!" Katie said.

Kenji sat a moment or two, slowly working the stalk of grass

in his mouth....

then began to talk.

"When you meditate, and feel yourself expanded

into the earth,

into the sky

beyond the moon,

through out the heavens..."

"Yes..." the girls responded, following his sentence.

"Who is it..." Kenji continued, "who is it... that is expanded. Hmmm?"

The girls just looked at each other.

"I dont get it." Katie said.

Susan was shaking her head slightly.

"hmmm?" Kenji continued, "who is expanded?

who are you feeling is expanded?

The girls just sat. Relaxed. Puzzled a bit. But no answer.

"hmmm?" Kenji removed the grass now and worked it... massaging it,

between the pads of his fingers.

"Is it your coach who is expanded?

your grandmother? your mother? ... he pauses... father?" asked Kenji.

"No. No." said Susan.

Kenji continued taking time between comments.

Continued with the stalk of grass.

"Then who are you feeling is expanded?" he asked again.

"Oh!" Katie said.

"Me?" Susan said.

"Oh yeah. I guess I am!" Katie said.

Unaware the girls also picked

stalks of grass and held them between their lips and teeth.

Kenji looked at the girls.

"Do you mean I really am this feeling?

I really am where ever it is I am expanded?" Katie asked.

Kenji laid the blade of grass upon the ground in front of him

and began getting up.

"This question, Susan and Katie, is your food to chew....

"... allow yourself to experience this feeling whenever you like ...

... look into it... don't let me, or anyone,

chew your own food for you. hmmm?"

The girls looked at each other and started laughing loudly

pulling the stalks from their own mouths

and comparing the chewed up ends.

And then put them back into their mouths

still laughing.

"Let's eat!" said Kenji.

"Yeah!" the girls said together.

"Oh." Katie interrupted the moment.

"Would you help us tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"We have to record new music for our routines." Susan said.

"And give the recordings to our teacher tomorrow afternoon at training." said Katie.

"We need you to play your flute... and we'll record it... "

"Hmmm?" Kenji responds.

"You know, that melody you play when Susan or I

play our grandfather's lullaby on the piano?"

"Is that what it is? Your grandfather wrote that?"

"yes... our American grandfather." the one said.

"In Des Moines, Iowa." said the other.

"It's beautiful." Kenji said.

"It's our favorite song." the girls responded.

"Especially now... with your melody." said Susan.

"The melody you play along with it." Katie said.

"Oh..! Very nice. Does your Grandfather's melody have lyrics?

"I guess not." Susan said. "I've never really thought about that."

"Somehow... It doesn't need lyrics." Katie added.

"Ah... I see. The melody speaks it's own message?

"Yeah. Yeah." the girls said smiling.

"Well then, mine too, I guess." Kenji said.

"I guess so!" the girls said together.

"Let's go eat." Kenji said.

Tokyo Twins Chapter 17 - Things unthinkable and carpe diem.

2007-04-20T19:25:00.000-05:00

by Tommy Schmitz

Mieko and Henry O'Brien,

hoods returned

to their heads,

continued in kneeling positions

after the broadcast.

"Well done." she said.

Whoever she was,

known only by the name of 'A'

her partner, 'B', would call her.

Mieko and Henry O'Brien

had yet to see her face.

Mieko and Henry had been taken

by a small band of gun toting thieves,

or so they thought,

fifteen days before

driving alone

along the border of Jammu and Kashmir.

"I found this in your belongings." she said

and walked behind Henry and Mieko.

She looked to her partner

and handed him a photograph.

" 'B', remove their hoods please."

"And you two, do not turn around."

'B' removed the hoods.

They are yours I presume?" 'A' said.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Henry and Mieko had difficulty adjusting their eyes.

Then at once broke into sobbing.

"They must be, what, six months old here. Hmm?" 'A' said.

No response.

"And by the date on the photo? Hmm." 'A' continued.

"Now fourteen."

The sobbing continued.

"Almost as old as mine would have..." and 'A' stopped herself,

and pursed her lips and stood still.

"Do you know how many children like this," she continued,

"have been killed savagely,

and willfully,

without remorse,

without remembrance,

without the barest awareness of the crimes

by the citizens - virtually every single one of them -

of the wealthy and perpetrating nations of these crimes?

Namely your country, Henry O'Brien,

for the last sixty years.

And for sixty years prior,

yours, Mieko Mori O'Brien.

The Japanese wanted to colonize India!

Imagine that --

just as they had

the rest of Asia.

But now what, Mrs. O'Brien?

You hide behind behind their flag.

And why.

This.

She pulls a fifty dollar bill from her pocket

then a yen note of five thousand.

and tosses them from behind

and over the heads and faces of Mieko and Henry

and the bills fluttered to their knees.

"That's why we're here," said Henry.

'A' shook her head,

got up and walked around the room.

"Heroes, huh?"

"No." said Henry.

"Quiet." 'A' said and continued,

"Tell me what is here?!" her arms were waving now,

"in this part of the world"

Couple of warring people?

Hindus. Muslims."

The two kneeling

were silent now of their sobbing

and breathing heavily

and remaining quiet, too, of words.

"Guess what isn't here?" 'A' continued.

"Inanimate finite resources.

To claim, to hoard, to waste

and most importantly of all,

to convert

into another form

of an inanimate finite resource."

And she throws

another few bills of currency

over their heads and faces.

"And why?

to make the world safe for freedom and democracy?

No!

to make things better

for the few

who say

they alone have earned it.

"That's why we are here." Mieko said.

"We are here to help." said Henry.

"I don't think so." 'A' rebutted, "you think people

who have fought a thousand years

are going to stop fighting

because you show up

with your handshakes,

your calling cards

and your smiles?

How can you help?

How can you even begin

to solve a problem

you can't even put into words.

"You have no idea why you are here,

Mieko and Henry O'Brien."

She had her hands on her hips now,

and stood straight.

"And neither do you know why I am here."

"May I ask a question, 'A'-san?"

'A' paused a few moments and gathered herself.

"Yes." she responded.

"Well, I am sorry, I have two questions." said Mieko.

"Go ahead."

"May we sit please to take the weight off our knees?" said Mieko.

'A' stood silent and folded her fingers together

like an awning of grief

on top of her head and exhaled. "'B'. Help them to sit."

'A' tilted her head back and was staring at the ceiling now.

"What is your second question?" she continued staring at the ceiling.

"Would you be so kind to tell us your story, 'A'-san?"

There was a knock on the door.

and 'B' looked at 'A'

who gave him a nod.

"It's our food, 'A'."

"Bring it in please." said 'A'.

An old man wearing

a torn and filthy cloak

and a head-covering

entered the room.

"Why isn't the child delivering our food?" 'A' said sharply.

"How did you get passed our guards?"

The old man walked to a table.

and rested the large board he carried

and removed slowly

dishes of curry and bread

and glasses of tea

and set forth two bowls

and filled them

with steaming curry

and placed the bread on top

and turned and handed them to 'A' and 'B'.

"Her mother sent her on an errand.

I am a friend and neighbor."

He then prepared two more bowls

and walked toward Henry and Mieko O'Brien,

and knelt and set the bowls before them

and Mieko, using Japanese out of habit

for thanking one who brings you food

said, "gouchisou-sama deshita."

["I thank God within you, who feed me.]

And the old man

pulled his head covering away from his face a bit,

and bowed slightly

and smiled

and Mieko's eyes grew suddenly big

and the old man mumbled

in a whisper in her language,

"o somatsu-sama deshita."

[I thank God within you, who thank me.]

*******

Katie and Susan O'Brien

after hearing the broadcast

continued sitting on the bench

they suddenly found empty

on the commuter platform

headed toward Shinjuku

and paid no attention to the trains

coming and going every few minutes,

and paid no attention to the old man

who sat quietly beside them

with his eyes closed

and with a half smile upon his face.

"Katie-Susan-chan! Katie-Susan-chan!"

They did, however, turn their heads

when they heard Oba-chan's voice

and suddenly became aware

it was Satchitananda sitting beside them.

The girls stood and hugged their grandmother

and she put a hand

on her youngest brother's shoulder.

"I am sorry." she said.

"I am sorry." he said.

"Girls, I'm so happy I found you,

let's go home, I'll telephone your school."

The girls looked at Oba-chan and Satchitananda

and shook their heads together.

"We're going to school." the one said.

"We'll be okay." said the other.

"We'll see you after practice tonight." the one said.

"We'll be okay." said the other.

Another train packed with commuters

was approaching.

The girls hugged their grandmother again,

and waved goodbye to Satchitananda,

and after taking several steps toward

the train door now opening,

the girls at once ran back

and grabbed the hands of Satchitananda.

"Can we go down to the river tonight?" the one said.

"And do that thing with the moon and the stars?" said the other.

Kenji stood and softly smiled.

And Oba-chan nodded her head in approval.

Tokyo Twins Chapter 16 - Chaos and demands - unanticipated - come forth.

2007-04-19T06:08:00.000-05:00

by Tommy Schmitz

The girls reached Fuda Station moments later

and froze suddenly in their tracks

to see their father Henry O'Brien

on a large flat panel television screen

affixed above the entrance of the station.

He was kneeling in a position

with hands behind his back.

He looked worried and tired and unshaven and thin.

He read a message in English aloud.

"We are the humiliated

the stomped upon

and the hated.

Even as we simply live

upon the land

our ancestors nurtured

for a thousand years,

or ten thousand.

From Palestine to Chiapas to North Carolina

from Tibet to Kosovo to Kashmir

from Cheshnya to East Timor

from Basque to Northern Ireland

from the Ainu of Hokkaido and of Honshu before that,

and from a thousand - at least -

more populations of people

who's cultures are no longer endangered,

because the people themselves are extinct.

In our own homes

we are homeless.

We are strangers and scapegoats,

or simply and wholly forgotten.

In our efforts

to live and to raise our children

and to honor the spirits of our ancestors,

upon these mere spots-on-the-rug

of planet earth,

drenched in the blood and the tears,

and the smiles and celebrations

of who we are

and always have been,

we are called "the terrorists"

for not disappearing

for not allowing

the ubiquitous and self-proclaiming-to-be-enlightened,

capital-market, finite-resource, political-boundary bullies,

to cage us in,

to abduct our children,

and to kill our entire people

however decrementally

however slowly

and then to belch unaware

and to sleep it all off

over decades

between the sheets

of our very own beds

as if nothing in the world

ever happened."

And then their mother appeared

before the camera

situated in the same position

looking equally as worn

continuing to read

the message:

"The lives of Mieko and Henry O'Brien

are at stake,

and will come to an end

one hundred hours from now

unless those who are accountable -

you leaders of the big eight -

step forward

to take their place."

A local news commentator

then appeared on the screen

with words that went unheard

by Katie and Susan O'Brien.

"I have to sit down." said Susan.

"Let's sit down." Katie said too.

And people they knew

and who knew them -

at least from sight -

moved on in avoidance,

ostensibly concerned

about disturbing

the sudden disturbance,

and looking down or away

and quickly walking by

Katie and Susan O'Brien.

When the girls left the house minutes before

Taya-san's cell phone went off,

and listening for a moment

he replaced it in his pocket

and walked to the television nearby

and turned it on.

It was an unscheduled broadcast

by the television networks of Japan.

A moment later he motioned for Kaneko-san,

and the two walked silently out the door to their car.

Oba-chan and Kenji stood up and watched

what the girls

and perhaps the world

were seeing.

"These people are nothing but savages and terrorists!"

Oba-chan said when it was finished.

"Their approach is one of ignorance," Kenji said and continued slowly,

"But how much more ignorant,

it is difficult to say

compared to the crimes put upon them."

"How can you take their side!"

"I'm not sure I am taking their side.

You wouldn't allow your own government

to conduct a simple search

for your daughters

on the land next door you deem sacred,

and for all the same good reasons.

What if they were Chinese or Koreans or Taiwanese or Americans,

who not only wanted to search Hebi-yama,

but to stake there a claim forever?"

"This is different." Oba-chan said.

"Please tell me how so?" Kenji continued slowly.

Oba-chan buried her head

in the palms of her hands

and wept aloud

and cried "it isn't fair".

And Kenji, aware he was pushing,

his older sister to the edge,

said more softly and slowly,

"Tell me this, O-ne-san,

what if it were the Ainu returning here next door,

who called Hebi-yama their own home

for ages longer than the Japanese?"

He paused and continued.

"From the soil of this bamboo forest,

whose generations of ancestors

are crying out now?"

"Get out!" Oba-chan screamed,

and ran into her bedroom.

And Kenji left the house,

not unnoticed by the agents

sitting outside in their car.