*

Falling in love again

*

(Warning for language (in the beginning) and controversial political
opinions.)

*

Chapter 3: Somewhere over the Rainbow

Tokyo, years 36/37 of Meiji (1904/5)

*

A peaceful day, a precious moment
Today we made a little walk along the river. The cherry trees were in
full bloom, and the air smelled sweet. The way was harder for me than I
thought, but I do not regret it. Sometimes we have to let behind us the
sorrows about our son and the rest of the family, the noise of the dojo
and the students. To share a single part of happiness.
Time will never stop, taking my force with it. To keep my courage in
this already lost fight, I collect such moments of closeness. And I need
this courage, not only for me, but for her.
Until my very end, I will give all my heart to be a good husband, though
I?ve never been a perfect one.

*

 

New York, May 9, 1965

*

The little diner in southern Chelsea was their usual meeting point. And
as usual, they met at lunchtime. Smoking, Henry Shatner was sitting with
coffee and the remains of a rather frugal meal at a table near the
window, looking at some papers, when the other man arrived.

The ashtray was stuffed with cigarettes.

"Do you understand the meaning of Sundays as days of rest, boss?" Jasper
Cagney greeted him, settling himself across his boss. He was a lanky man
from the South with blond hair, still cut in a sort of Army haircut.
Although, the Korean war had been for since twelve years, Jasper Cagney,
who had participated at this war in its last year, had a certain
attraction to his cut.

"No." Shatner didn?t even rise his head.

"Do you never spend days off?"

"No." Shatner dropped the paper he had been looking at and glanced at
his very special agent. "So what did you learn?"

"Very funny coincidence! There was really something special with his
papers. This man asked the permission to import an ancient sword."

Jasper took a folded paper out of his own pocket and laid it on the table.

"A sword?"

The special agent had never seen this grade of stupefaction in the
features of his boss. He had been very surprised too, to really find out
something this interesting. An ancient sword! The collection of old
swords was Jasper Cagney?s principal and very expensive hobby.

"What the heck does he want to do with a sword?"

"I don?t know, but he explained that it was an heritage. Do you want me
to do some more research?"

They were interrupted by the waitress, and Jasper ordered beer and fried
chicken with chips.

"Yes," Shatner handed him the bundle of papers. "Here you can find basic
information, addresses, family connections and so on. That could help
you to find him in this city. Just keep an eye on him!"

"What about my other investigation?"

"If your relation to them is strong enough, they will contact you. Don?t
overdo it!"

"Okay." Jasper read the first page of the report. "A faggot with
communist sympathies? As if one of theses things were not disgusting
enough. Honestly."

The waitress brought the meal.

"Do you have no photos?"

Jasper laid down the papers and started to eat.

"I have already asked for more information of another place. They will
send photos too, but they are some years old, anyway. I think, the best
way to approach him is the woman, Kumiko Techaco, his aunt. She is under
observation since ... ."

Shatner interrupted his speech, a slight hint of surprise in his eyes.

"What?" Jasper asked chewing.

"More funny coincidences!" Jasper pointed the papers with the chicken he
held in his hand, rising his brow. "Indeed. He just came in with some
people, most of them women." Slowly, Shatner lighted a new cigarette, a
sardonic grin covered his face. Jasper was not sure, but he believed to
hear him mumbling. "Damned queer. How can he always pick up so many
females?"

"What will we do now?"

"I will finish my cigarette, and then I will go very calmly. He hasn?t
seen me yet, but if I start to hurry now, I will certainly attract his
attention."

"When did you meet him?" The blond man queried, still eating, but he
didn?t believe that his boss would satisfy his curiosity.

To his surprise, Shatner answered: "First? London, eight years ago." The
very special agent Jasper Cagney had heard rumors of a top secret affair
in London. Something about a phantom assassin. A very mysterious affair.
He watched his boss, but the features didn?t reveal anything, and this
time, Jasper decided to keep his mouth shut. He would not have any
answer apart ironic comments. "I will go now." Shatner had finished his
cigarette, laid a few bucks on the table and took his cloak. "It?s the
red-head, with long hair, quite womanish. Don?t let your eyes betray you
and take him too lightly. He might look queer, and indeed he has grown
worse than before, but for playing tag, you will hardly find someone to
match him. I expect your first report at Wednesday."

Having said this, he left. The blond special agent finished his meal and
drank his beer. After having wiped his hands a bit, he glanced at the
second leave of the papers Shatner had given him. A name popped in his
eyes, a surprising discovery. Provoking almost a laughter.

Jasper Cagney folded the leaves and putted them in the inside pocket of
his jacket. Then he paid his meal and headed for the exit.

It was unbelievable easy.

"Good afternoon, Mister Cagney!"

The friendly voice of the familiar dark-haired girl greeted him, and it
was just courtesy to look at her. Her left arm hung in a bandage, and
she seemed a bit tired, but her warm smile revealed her good mood as
always.

"Good afternoon, Miss Kaszowiz!"

Jasper said, nodding politely to her company and they greeted back: the
insolent little boy, her brother, the other two woman, a little Latino
vamp and a Nigger girl, and the faggot who?s looks inspired his
immediate disgust. They had been in the middle of a rather violent
discussion.

"What happened to your arm, Miss Kaszowiz?"

He asked, noting that the red-head had indeed some Asian features,
although his strange eyes and hair were not quite what you expected.

"Thank you for your concern, Mister Cagney! I got hurt in a nightly
hold-up, but it?s not half as bad as it looks."

"I hope you will recover fast."

He meant what he said. Despite her stubbornness, he had always cherished
the girl and didn?t like the idea that she might get hurt.

"Thank you, Mister Cagney!"

"See you later, Miss Kaszowiz!"

"See you later, Mister Cagney!"

He left the café. It was really too easy and, by that, without the
knowledge of his boss, the new occupation had a connection with his
previous investigations.

***

/

The dream is so sweet. We are dancing. In the famous Opera of Paris, a
dream of gold and red, and colored marble. It?s the dance of the Prince
and the Princess of "The Sleeping Beauty". Yes, I can hear the music,
can feel his hands, the strength of his arms. It?s so beautiful. ...

/

Infernal noise is shattering my dream. I try to reach out with my left
arm to grip the alarm-clock, to throw it far away from my tortured ears.
It would not be the first clock to be destroyed in this way. The pain
flashing through my body is strong enough to wake me up completely. I
come to realize that it?s not my clock that is ringing, but the phone.

In the very same moment, I notice that I fell asleep fully dressed.

"Yacko! The phone." I yell, trying to get up, but no sign of life from
my little brother. Before, I can force my still limp body all the way to
the phone in the hall, the ringing stops suddenly. I fall back on my
bed. For the closed curtains, it is still dim in my room. A glance at
the silent alarm-clock shows me something past ten. No doubt, Yacko has
already left the apartment to stray in the streets with his bunch of
so-called friends.

Slowly, I get up again, hating my body for being so weak. They had even
to send me home last night, before my shift was over. Dropping two
tablets with filled glasses was not what they wanted a waitress to do.
But I couldn?t really move the arm. I didn?t expect that the wound would
be so annoying. In the night of the hold-up, I didn?t feel it as much as
now. Perhaps, I should visit a doctor, but doctors just want money what
I haven?t. Besides, yesterday, when Yacko changed the bandage, he told
me that the wound didn?t look so bad.

I open the curtains. The light of a clear day floating in the room lifts
my mood. You are just too impatient, I tell myself. Wounds need time to
heal, and sometimes healing provokes pain and weariness. Searching for
fresh clothes, I remember the time when my right ankle was distorted. It
was just the same, and I drove all people around me crazy with my
impatience and my bad moods.

Oh god! Thinking about my bad moods makes me embarrassed immediately. I
have been such a stupid thing in that night. Remembering myself whining,
complaining and yelling like I did. I had no reason for it, but I
couldn?t help it. Perhaps, it was all caused by the shock, however, I?m
worried. What would they think about me?

Especially Kenneth Farrel. Of course, I didn?t want him to patronize me
like he did. I could see it very clearly. He took me for the little girl
I was when we saw each other the last time. Nevertheless, I have
overreacted, perhaps even scared him away from me. However, now I cannot
do anything about it. The best is to concentrate me on more urgent problems.

Just at the moment I enter the bathroom, the phone starts to ring again.
Sighing, I walk back in the little hall and take the receiver.

"Karen Kaszowiz. What can I do for you?"

"Here?s Deputy Malcolm Kelly ..."

When I hear the calm and familiar voice, I have no doubt what he will
tell me. One more time. Normally, I would have been polite, waiting for
him to finish his sentence, but today I feel too bad for courtesy and
conventions.

"Is it about my brother? Must I come to fetch him?"

"I?m sorry, Miss Kaszowiz, but, yes, he has been arrested for stealing
again. It?s the fifth time, Miss Kaszowiz, we cannot release him so
easily this time. It?s possible that he has to go for the juvenile ..."

"Stop! We will not discuss this matter on the phone, Deputy Kelly. I
will come to the police station as fast as I can."

I hear him sigh in desperation, although he tries to swallow it
immediately. It?s my very special triumph, that members of the New York
City Police Department have somewhat afraid of a nineteen-years-old
girl. But, it?s not enough to make me feel at ease.

"Yes, I think this might be better, Miss Kaszowiz."

The deputy says calmly again, before he interrupts the communication. I
stand frozen a moment. The juvenile tribunal! It?s horror just to think
about it. Imaging my brother in jail. The last thing to disintegrate my
world completely, the last thing I had to lose besides this rooms. Don?t
think about it, stupid girl!

Yacko! He is so selfish, making me this worrying about him. For his
stupid boyish pride. He had explained me the last time why he has to do
such idiotic things: The other kids in the streets called him queer or
faggot, because this stupid dance school had his name. Everyone knew
that queers are cowards. For not to be coward, he had to prove his value.

This time I will not accept such an excuse.

*

Getting washed and dressed was rather difficult with my hurt arm. I
needed almost thirty minutes, before I was satisfied. Then I had to take
an analgesic, although I don?t like to depend on it. But I needed it to
keep my wits together.

Every time I have to deal with the police, I take care to be dressed
more femininely. It?s unbelievable how polite policemen can be, when you
comport yourself like a lady. I never hear as much compliments as when I
come to the police station like now. My cheeks are heated, but I?m
somewhat pleased.

Luckily, they haven?t put Yacko in an arrest cell. He is sitting beside
Deputy Kelly?s desk. When I arrive, he doesn?t even lift his head. The
deputy searches a chair for me, and I sit down.

"What was it?" I don?t wait for the exchange of courtesies, but start
altogether straightforward.

"Three wallets, fif- ...."

"Three wallets? Please, forgive me, Deputy Kelly, but I thought it was a
serious affair. But three wallets are no reason enough to drag someone
for the tribunal."

I don?t feel as reckless as I speak with the deputy. My hands are
covered with sweat, and my heart beats unbelievable fast. But, come on,
Karen, don?t be afraid to do a little performance.

"Why don?t you let me pay the amendment? I will take care that it was
the last time you saw this boy before your eyes."

Yacko has lifted his head now. The mention of tribunal obviously has
some effects of his conscience. He is chewing his lower lip, as he does
every time, he is really embarrassed.

"Miss Kaszowiz, you said this every time when we meet here.
Unmistakably, that boy is a hard case, and perhaps, you are too young to
take care of him."

My breath is trapped in my throat for a moment. It?s evident what his
remark implies. They could take my brother away from me, even if they
don?t put him in jail. But I will not let it happen easily. Why should I
give in to this people who were not even able to protect us. No, I won?t
let it happen. Not against my will, not without fight.

"Will you inform the welfare about our situation, deputy?" I won?t sneak
uselessly around the matter.

"Perhaps, it would be wiser."

Ah, he is already uncertain, because he knows me. That?s my advantage.

"I know, you just want to do your duty, Deputy Kelly, but you can trust
me. And even believing that you have to inform the welfare you can still
let me take my brother home."

I need some more time to convince him that he should better not keep
Yacko. Not if he didn?t wanted me staying at the station all day and
annoying him. But, in the end, I can pick up my stupid little brother
and leave.

"Don?t even open your mouth, before we are home, idiot!" I say, slapping
his head when we are in the streets. "I?m really pissed off."

Of course, he doesn?t keep his mouth shut. "I just wanted to say, I?m
sorry. It?s your own fault if you don?t want to hear it." He is hopping
out of my reach now. "Besides, I did it for you. We need money, you
said, because of this debts. We need money, you said, to pay these
bastards who bought the house. And we need money, that you could go
visit a doctor and we haven?t."

His words make me angry and touch me strangely at the same time.

"I didn?t ask you to steal, Yacko. All what you should do, is being
helpful."

We make most of our way in silence, and finally, we are back home.

"How is your arm?" Yacko asks when we are mounting the stairs.

"I need to change the bandage, because I couldn?t do it, before I left."

"Okay."

His voice tells me that he wants me not to be angry with him.

I don?t know why we lost the closeness we shared in the years before
father died. Someone told me, it might be the age. Changes, inexplicable
moods and ideas. And it would growing worse until fifteen or sixteen,
then, perhaps, the handling would be easier. What a perspective! Two or
three years of constant trouble.

"What are you doing here? Aren?t you the girl from Saturday morning?" I
hear Yacko?s stunned question.

He has climbed the last stairs faster than me.

"Indeed. My name is Mimi. Mimi Melville."

And there she is, wearing a giant dark cloak, smiling a bit embarrassed.
Mimi hadn?t been in the club at all last night. And I heard the manager
complaining that time has been too short to find a good replacement for
her.

"I ... just ... just wanted to know how you feel." Her hands are
kneading the fabric of the cloak. "The grand-pa ? well, he isn?t my real
grand-pa, just an old storekeeper who permits me to live with his family
... The grand-pa didn?t want me to keep my job, and I wasn?t there last
night. But I thought, for the love of Jesus, I have to look after you.
Because we have fought together."

I have always wondered why her family could let her go work so far away
from her home. She always waited for the first subway when the club had
closed. Alone, in the night. A girl who was younger than me and looked
even younger than she was. When I knew that, I decided to wait with her.
After all, my way wasn?t so far, and I knew more people in this corner.
First she hadn?t noted it, but then she got very angry. Her pride was
even more difficult to support than Yacko?s. Perhaps, she needed it all
her life, because of the problems a black girl could have. My
grand-parents had had some black acquaintances, most of them musicians,
but the relations were always difficult. Friendship was very rare.

The familiar smile is returning in her face when she said the last
words. That?s the Mimi I know, always cheerful and not this shy. But
then I think that, certainly, she had never visited a white person just
for concern and sympathy.

But now, we are comrades who had fought together.

"Do you want to come in?"

Yacko looks at me with this glance saying: /You are always too
trustful/, while unlocking the apartment door and opening.

"Yes."

Mimi is following us in the apartment.

We go in the kitchen. It?s far more than a simple kitchen. Rather a
living room with a corner for cooking, separated by a counter. Yacko who
is unbelievable obedient now proposes to make coffee and eggs, because:

"You cannot cook when you are not hurt, raccoon. You will make a
complete mess out of the eggs with this arm."

Mimi forgetting about being polite yells at him: "Shrimp! Don?t talk
like this!"

I?m too slow to give him the deserved slap. I sit down at the table,
because my legs feel very wobbly now. I always have unlimited energy
when I need it, but later I?m almost crushed by exhaustion.

"I regret somewhat that you have to quit that job. It was always so
animating, hearing you play when I had to work."

Mimi sighs dramatically: "Yes, it?s a pity. For the money, but more for
the piano. It was one of the best pianos I know. I will participate at
the examination for the Manhattan School of Music, you know."

Yacko and me change a glance, sharing the same thought. An unique situation.

"If you have problems to find a good piano, we can help you." She
glances skeptically. "Come, I will show you."

We leave the apartment to go over in the school.

It?s the same, every time, I open it, knowing that I would find behind
the large dancing room with his mirrors and large windows, the bars and
the photos, the grand piano and the old chairs. Every time, I think, I
would find grand-ma speaking or explaining something, while grand-dad is
waiting at the grand piano that he could continue to play. I forget in
the moment I enter the room that they have been dead for four years now.

Sometimes, I believe that death has only affected their bodies, while
their spirit, courage and love are still present. And that?s the
ultimate and most important reason why I will never let someone destroy
what they have built, for no money in the world.

Mimi?s delightful shriek makes me almost jump. I have been so absorbed
in my reflection that I have forgotten her presence for a moment.
Though, she has bounced to the grand piano, caressing the black cover,
settling herself on the seat.

DI-DI-DI-BAAM ... DI-DI-DI-BAAM ... A piano version of Beethoven?s
famous symphony fills the room like thunder. The glass in the windows is
vibrating and I fear they might break. I?m almost glad, that the other
people have already left this house. The sudden break-out of loud music
would have disturbed their Sunday leisure. People get not only angry
because of playing loudly Rock ?n? Roll, but also of playing loudly
classical music. I know this, because they sometimes came to complain
about the school. Back then. In the times of happiness.

A look at the door tells me that Yacko is standing there, eating the
eggs. His face has an expression I see rarely on him. Interest and
contentment. Even if he was still little when the grand-parents lived, I
know that he remembers. Even if he complains very often about the stupid
school and what bad reputation it causes him, I know that he is old
enough to understand what it meant for grand-ma and grand-dad.

Suddenly, the thunder stops and after a short break, accompanied by a
funny grimace, Mimi is playing one of the tunes I know from her
performances in the bar. And she sings, revealing the rich timbre of her
voice.

Then she changes the genre again, playing a little piece of Eric Satie.
I need to take a deep breath, because for my dance diploma ? one year
ago ? I created and performed a solo choreography for this piece of
music. I called it The Wooden Puppet. Even now, one year later, every
step is still buried in my memory. For a moment, I forget the world
around me. Although the hurt arm, I start to move a bit. Just making the
footsteps, the turns and the movements without using my arms.

It?s the dance of a wooden marionette, controlled by strings. When I
created this choreography, I thought not to find the courage to keep on
with my life. After father?s dead, I felt like the puppet, unable to
move freely, bound by the strings of financial worries, the shame being
the daughter of an alcoholic, the shame about his behavior in the last
years and about his final suicide, the trouble and constant fights with
my brother. I believed that all these strings were stronger than my
courage. But I was wrong. One year later, I still keep on going despite
our problems. I have become aware that grand-ma?s sweet little girl
could have an explosive temper if necessary. The puppet is free, and the
dance turns out to be another one.

Finally, I have to take a break. I don?t wear the right clothes anyway,
and at last, my arm is protesting against my treatment. Of course, lost
in the dance I forgot to care about my wound.

"If you can dance you must be fine, Miss Karen."

The voice of my dream.

Foolish girl! Against all reason, my heart is beating fast, sending heat
in my cheeks, even before I turn to look at him. Today, Kenneth Farrel
is wearing a simple dark brown jacket and normal clothes, not the
exotic, but beautiful costume he wore in that night. He looked so pretty
and nice in that night. Like a fairy tale creature. Except his hands. I
have been so shocked, seeing the burn scars on them when he was holding
the steering wheel.

"Hi, Farrel!" Mimi exclaims, stopping her play. "Now when I have seen
it, I think dancing is more like gymnastics."

"Good afternoon, Miss Mimi!" Kenneth answers smiling warmly.

As usual, when we meet. As usual? How many times were this? It was only
Friday, that I saw him the first time since thirteen years. But ?

Not only I?m sure that he had seen me in nappy pants, right after my
birth or crawling through these rooms, but there were those six month,
he had stayed here with my grand-parents. Before he had gone to Europe.
I had never known, and they had never told me why they had given Kenneth
shelter for those months. They just did it, while I was living with my
grand-parents too. Because of the so-called illness of my father which
was, as I know now, a disguised description of his alcohol problem. Mama
feared that he might hurt me.

I have a lot of memories of that time. While Kenneth wasn?t going to
school, we passed very much time together. Oh yes, I was as much
infatuated with him as a six-years-old girl could be infatuated with a
teenage boy ? nine years older than her.

And later, I could look at photos, thus seeing him every day because
they are still suspended to the wall behind the piano with other
pictures of grand-ma?s students. Though, I was quite shocked about his
long hair and the things the other girls had said about him during the
competition. And yet, when he spoke with me, not knowing who I was, I
discovered the same person as in his letters. Those letters he wrote my
grand-ma, unconsciously of her death, were so charming and lively. They
painted vivid images of cities I had never seen. London, Paris, Berlin.
Cities, my grand-parents had visited in the years before they had left
Europe. Paris ? yes, he had written about a performance of "The Sleeping
Beauty" in the Opera of Paris.

Out of nothing, I remember my dream about the Parisian Opera and feel
more heat creeping over the skin of my face and over my neck. It?s quite
imprudent to dream like that of a man I only know out of letters.
Though, since I saw him first, it?s like a dream becoming real.

I force myself to ignore the reaction of my body and beam at him too.
But my smile freezes, when I see that he is not alone. Behind him is a
young woman. A beautiful dark-haired woman, wearing elegant clothes and
perfect make-up, smiling at me too, but with obvious amusement.

"Quite gloomy, your house, little one!" She is taller than me, not only
because of her high heels, and but, this gives her no reason to call me
like that.

"What?"

"But, you have prettily grown up, cry-baby."

"Maggie!"

"Sorry, Shin-chan!" Sighing, she puts her hand on his arm. "You don?t
have to protect her."

"Who is that?" I ask him, having regained control over my senses, amazed
about my sudden anger. Don?t be stupid, Karen! She might be an old
acquaintance of him. But why does she have to lay her hand on him, like
having a right to do so? And why does she have a nickname for him?

"I guess you don?t remember Maggie - Maria Magdalena. She is the
daughter of my aunt Kumiko?s husband, but you were very young when they
moved over to Brooklyn. Though, I remember clearly that the both of you
played together." Kenneth Farrel explains calmly.

It might have been in the time of bliss and happiness, before mama died.
We had a lot of friends and there were always children to play with me,
but I don?t remember her.

"Don?t worry, girl. You always cried when I started to tease you,
perhaps you just wanted to forget."

Yacko who?s skeptical eyes wander from Kenneth to the woman and back,
start to grin at her words. If the woman was like that, even as a girl,
I had lots of reasons to forget her.

"Maggie, what are you up to? Would you please stop mocking her!"

Kenneth seems to be very embarrassed about her behavior. Maggie just
sighs, waving a little box she is carrying.

"Come on, girl! Let me have a look at this wound!"

"What?"

"I wasn?t sure, if you would visit a doctor, like I counseled you, Miss
Karen. That?s the reason why I have brought the doctor to you." He makes
a sign in the direction of this woman. Is she a doctor? I don?t believe
it. She is too young for it.

"I think we should go into your apartment!" She grips my arm, glancing
seductively at Kenneth. "Even if there is no occasion to offend your pure-"

"Maggie! Would you please be quiet!" All of sudden, he is blushing
deeply, looking very pretty like that. Oh Karen, don?t be so stupid!

The insolent woman only laughs and grips my arm.

*

We go in the kitchen, and she puts a little bag on the table.

"Come on, girl! Sit down!" I obey her, still doubtful about her
capacities. Very fast, I understand that I was terribly wrong about
that. Although she confesses me smiling that she hasn?t finished her
studies yet, but is working as an assistant doctor now. I?m almost
surprised how gentle her hands are, as she is helping me getting out of
my blouse, removing the old bandage. Concentration and concern on her
face. No trace of mocking. "It was good that you have gone to the
Hospital right after this incident, with the stitching, the wound will
heal finely and the scar will not be too ugly." I prefer to say nothing
instead of lying. "The healing process will go on without complication
if you keep this arm at rest. It might take some time though, because
the cut has touched the muscles. For that reason you should avoid moving
too much."

"Do you mean, I cannot go to work?"

"For some days, three or four, you should repose yourself completely,
and even after this, you should not overdo it."

I bite my lip. No work, no money. Those bastards managed to increase my
problems. The same men who are part of my problems.

It had been a shock when I remembered yesterday, what I hadn?t seen that
night. Something my mind had registered only subconsciously. I knew more
than one of those men. They were hands of that man who had bought the
house and wants to convert it in a sort of luxury casino.

I don?t know what will happen, if they remember me too. That night, they
didn?t. I?m almost sure, because they were drunk and had insulted only
Mimi. But, maybe, one of them will remember and relate to his boss that
I?m in more trouble than ever. That I might possibly not be able to pay
the next ransom. Shit! I don?t curse very often, but now I want to spit
out all the bad words I know. Instead of that, my lips are trembling.

"Don?t cry, girl!" Maggie takes my chin and lifts up my head. "Do you
need money or other help?"

I would swallow my tongue before I ask her for money.

"Why don?t you tell her, that we need money?" Yacko has appeared in the
kitchen, goes to the cooking corner and puts the pan in the sink. "Or
tell it the red-head?" He begins to scrub the pan vigorously. "Yes, I
have verified that he was one of grand-ma?s students. It was the one who
wrote the letters, wasn?t he?" Maggie is lughing quietly when Yacko
mentions the letters, putting her instruments back in her box and laying
more bandage packs on the table. Yacko continues, scrubbing. "He wasn?t
here the last years? Then dad can't have borrowed money from him!"

"Yacko!"

How could he blurt out all our problems before that woman? Where is his
pride now?

My growing anger is crushed before I can it let out. A voice is singing,
sweet and innocent, in girlish nostalgia:

/

Puerto Rico,
You lovely island,

/

Yacko has already left the kitchen, after the first sounds.

Oh yes, in an sudden attack of superstition, I had bought the score of
the "West Side Story". Believing it would bring me luck. But it didn?t
work.

/

Island of tropical breezes
Always the pine apples growing,
Always the coffee blossoms blowing.

/

"I wonder why he hadn?t get this job."

"What job?"

Only after Maggie?s question, I realize that I have expressed my
thoughts loudly.

"I have meet Kenneth on Friday, at a dance casting for the ?West Side
Story?. It looked as if the director would give him a special job, but
later, he told me that he didn?t."

She doesn?t answer, but the expression of her eyes is strange.

After a while, she repeats: "If you need any help, financial or other,
please tell me.", while we are hearing Mimi singing with a darker,
mock-seductive voice:

/

Puerto Rico,
You ugly island,
Island of tropic diseases.

/

Over there in the dancing room, Yacko is laughing as he hadn?t done for
a long time.

"Why do you say that?"

"Shin-chan has not much money, but he is very worried about you." Once
again, I switch between happiness and anger. Why does he think he has to
worry about me? Why doesn?t he speak with /me/ about it? "I will do all
what I can to make him happy."

/

Always the hurricanes blowing,
Always the population growing,
And the money owing,

/

Maggie?s words and her eyes are scaring me. I don?t need to ask her for
her reasons. Oh yes, she loves him. No doubt.

/

And the babies crying,
And the bullets flying.

/

"Don?t even dare to cry, silly girl!" I swallow while she is standing
up. "You are quite emotional, after all. Must be artist?s behavior!",
She is sighing and leaves me alone.

/

I like the island Manhattan.
Smoke on your pipe and put that in!

/

As I?m hearing her laughing too, I follow her in the dancing room again.
What I see, makes me freeze in amazement, with slacked jaw.

/

I like to be in America!
O. K. by me in America!
Ev?rything free in America
For a small fee in America!

/

While Mimi is singing the chorus, alone but with a voice strong enough
for more than one woman, Kenneth is dancing ? well, yes, the Puerto
Rican girls. In Flamenco style, waving imagined skirts. His face
emotionless as it?s fitting for Flamenco, his movements passionate. At
last, he waves his cap with a swift movement, like a toreador?s cap.

I?m grinning. Yacko is gasping in laughter, and Maggie holds her hand
over her mouth, face redden. Mimi can just finish her singing, before
she falls over on the piano, laughing too.

Kenneth is grinning sheepishly, adjusting his cap, then putting his
hands in the pockets of his pants, blushing slightly.

"You missed the dance of the great seductress." Yacko explains me when
he has enough breath to speak.

"I didn?t know that it could be hilarious." Mimi says. "but, it?s still
really queer."

Obviously, they had discussed about dance when he drove her home.

Now, he is just shrugging, taking his jacket which he had laid over a chair.

"Why don?t we go out for lunch? We can put all our money together, and I
think we will have enough to pay for all of us."

We all look at him, somewhat startled, but, finally, all agree that it?s
a real good idea.

*

We don?t have to walk, because we can go with that beautiful car again.
It?s Maggie who takes the driver seat. Of course, Yacko wants to come
with us, even if he has already eaten the eggs and even if he doesn?t
really deserve going out after that morning.

"It?s such a good car." Mimi says, trying to bounce, but she has no
place, we being at three on the backseat. But her braids are swinging
with the vivid moves of her head. "And it made all the way very fast."

"What way?"

Kenneth is coughing.

"To Harlem. Farrel was so nice to drive me home." Mimi explains
cheerfully. "Oops!"

"Shin-chan!" Maggie?s voice grows slightly menacing, while in the
mirror, I?m seeing Kenneth biting his bottom lip, to hold back a smile.
"Don?t tell me you made a travel half around the world with my car?"

"Isn?t it your car, Farrel?"

"Did I ever say, that it was my car, Miss Mimi?"

"One point for you, Farrel."

"And I thought, you had to sleep because of exhaustion, Shin-chan." Now
the color of his skin is matching the color of his hair. I never saw a
man blushing like that. Normally, it?s me who blushes like that. "So,
you were on the road the entire night? With that idiot? But, you didn?t
let him drive, I hope." Coughing again. "No! How could you, Shin-chan?
That idiot had poked over my dress in the same night. And do you know
what he had done with Arthur?s previous car?"

I can imagine, as much as I remember that Sam Sherman. He looked like a
troublemaker. A man who went out without a shirt. Quite sexy, but
stupid. Karen! I call myself back to reason. Amazing what I have seen
just in one night, being wounded furthermore.

"You know Arthur, too?" Mimi interrupts Maggie?s question. "This is very
good. I don?t trust the rooster with that affair."

"What rooster?" Then, already stopping the car at a free place, Maggie
starts to smile even more mischievously than she had before. "You speak
of Sam, that idiot?"

"Yes, the cocky guy, Arthur?s cousin, so ?"

"Rooster is good." Maggie is laughing, while we are getting out of the
car. "It?s a good variation to idiot."

"Was it that guy with the black leather jacket?" Yacko asks. "Who had
written ?bad? on his back?"

"Yes, that is his special label." Maggie returns. "He never goes out
without the jacket."

"This may be right. But I don?t want to talk about him. I want to talk
about Arthur."

We are gone in the Imperial Diner which is an ancient railroad wagon and
have occupied a free table. Kenneth seems to be relieved that Mimi is
occupying Maggie?s attention. I feel a bit dizzy from all their
chatting, but I think this is mostly caused by the pain in my arm.
Besides that, I feel very good. It?s been a long time since I have gone
out with so many people.

The appearance of a waitress interrupts the chatting for some moments,
until we have all chosen our meals.

"What is with Arthur?" Maggie finally replies to Mimi?s statement.

"Who is this guy anyway?"

"He is a genius, shrimp! Intelligent, charismatic, courageous, beautiful
? The king of music."

Must be the perfect man.

"Is that the reason that you call him ?King Arthur??" Kenneth queries
smirking.

"This is one reason, yes. Besides, we are in research for the perfect
music. And it?s like the search for the Holy Grail. King Arthur told us
the story about that quest. He knows a lot of fantastic stories anyway."

Maggie nods. "That?s true. He has read a lot, and it is very interesting
to discuss with him. And he is a fantastic musician too." Her eyes are
shining strangely when she talks about him. What is with that woman? Is
she in love with all men she knows, or what? She cannot have them all. I
would be dead for embarrassment before I could talk like her. "I never
understood why Arthur gave up a real musical career for tiring struggles
in the slums."

She should not have said that because, immediately, Mimi is getting very
upset. "Thank you very much! How can you belittle his courage like that?
He is ready to do something about things going wrong in that country,
doing something about the incredible injustice. Not only discussing it
with other intellectuals like you. He saw that you just let us play our
slave music, which is fine for you, but don?t want to have us on your
tables and in your concert halls. He saw how wrong that was and he
wanted to do something. He knew, that only white people, especially
Jews, have real access to that world of music, art or beautiful words he
loved."

Welcome to the world of prejudices and hatred, Karen! Welcome to
reality! Don?t forget for one moment, that your little dreams about a
life of peace and harmony for all people are just sweet dreams! What she
is saying, hits me, even more, because she repeats common ideas. But in
such situations, I don?t even have enough energy to get angry. Racism is
a very irrational thing, a result of repeated prejudices, real injustice
and inexplicable antipathy. I had always problems to deal with it.

Yacko opens his mouth, looking really furious, but he is interrupted
before he can say something.

Kenneth?s voice is as sharp as in the night of the hold-up, when he
tried to talk some reason into Mimi. It has the similar effect now as he
is saying: "Miss Mimi, sometimes you should watch your words. You should
know, how words can hurt other people ? even if you had been hurt first,
even if the other one is white."

Mimi is swallowing, then glances irritated from me and Yacko to Maggie.
Finally, she is looking at him, they change a long gaze. Then she gets
really pale under her dark skin.

"I?m sorry."

"I didn?t speak about me."

"I?m sorry." She is repeating slowly. "But, nobody has a right to insult
King Arthur."

"Why do you think, I want to insult him, girl with the quick tongue?"
Maggie replies. "I just can see that he changed in all that time I knew
him. That something is devouring him. Sorry, if you cannot stand the truth."

Before the discussion is lead in a bad direction again, I am distracted
by the appearance of Mister Cagney. His presence smoothes the tensed
atmosphere, and when he is gone, I?m happy that we have another subject.

"Mister Cagney lives in our neighborhood." I have been surprised to see
Mister Cagney, and more surprised about his concern for my health.
Normally, he shows no real interest in other people. Not, beyond his
profession. "He is a private detective."

"A private detective?"

Is that an optical illusion? Or do Kenneth?s eyes really narrow a bit?

"That?s what is written on the door of his office." Yacko tells, as
insolently as ever, munching. "But he has very strange connections for a
detective. And he annoys all people with his search for old weapons,
especially swords."

At the last remark Kenneth?s eyes are changing from thoughtful to
amused, and Maggie is laughing.

"Whenever the crazy whish appears to sell your sword, you know whom to
ask." When she sees our stunned faces, she explains. "He earned an
ancient sword from some Japanese relative."

"What use could /you /have for a sword?" Mimi and Yacko ask at the same
moment. I only think it.

"Where?s the problem?" He looks very serious again. "If I had an
apartment on my own, I could hang it at the wall. Then people visiting
me had already one subject for conversation. Yes, I suppose it might be
a good idea for a party. People making small talk about it, imagining
stories. Asking what use /I/ could have for a sword. Or better, I could
put it in a funny frame, or in a Champaign cooler, or in a toilet basin.
Then it would be art, and the same people might even take me for an
avant-garde artist. I would have much money, because gallery tenants
would want me to make an exhibition in their galleries." Mimi has
already started grinning, and finally, we all are laughing.

*

It?s almost four in the afternoon when we are back home, climbing the
stairway in silence. My heartbeat is so fast. And I feel stupid and
delightful at the same time.

The last three hours have been very animated. In the diner, I told them
a bit, but not too much, about the school and that we hadn?t had
students for over two years. Then, we discussed Mimi?s future plans.
Convening that she would use our piano for her exercises and
accompanying me, whenever I could gain some students, as a form of
reward. I even proposed her that she could give piano lessons for
children, but she said that nobody in my quarter would send his children
to a black piano teacher. She might be right.

After this, I had a violent argument with Kenneth because he doubted my
teaching capacities.

"I don?t think that you should concentrate only on the school. After
all, you are too young to direct a dance school." He dared to say in my
face. I threw knives and forks at him, no bothering with the hilarious
laughter of the others. I didn?t stop, until the waitress came shyly at
our table. My embarrassment gave him time to explain that it wasn?t
meant as an insult. "Think about it, Miss Karen. You have just finished
your own formation. No doubt, you have very much talent, but for
teaching you need experience. Far more experiences than you have now.
Besides, why do you want to start with the end?"

I threw the napkin at him too. But I knew that he was right. Grand-ma
started the school after the end of her professional career. All dance
teachers I knew did it.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Form a group, go on stage. You have a room. In this city are enough
jobless dancers. And I don?t think that it would be a problem to find a
theatre for performances."

"I?m sure that you could use the ?Velvet? if Shin-chan would ask nicely
for it."

This time the look he gave her was nearly deadly. You have overdone it,
vixen! I felt simultaneous silent triumph and shame.

"Oh yes, the ?Velvet?! That?s the best thing about losing my job.
Finally, I can go and see King Arthur whenever I want."

And in that way, we returned to Mimi?s favorite and special subject:
Arthur Sherman. As long as she spoke about him, I understood what the
former allusions meant. Obviously, that man really gave up a granted
scholarship for the Manhattan School of Music to labor in Harlem as a
social worker, teaching music to the street kids. Not only that, but he
had bought with other people that theatre and some rooms in SoHo to
propose places for musical exchanges between all sort of people. So, he
believed in the healing forces of music. That meant he was a dreamer
like the rest of us. For a second, I thought about how he got the money
to realize all that dreams, but I didn?t ask.

It was only when Maggie suddenly remembered that she had a rendezvous,
that we left the diner. While we were going to the car, Mimi said that
she should better go home, because the man she called grand-father would
get worried. So Maggie dropped her near the next subway station, before
she drove to my house. When Kenneth told her that he wanted to stay here
a bit longer, Maggie was somewhat irritated. However, she seemed not to
be angry, but rather excited, when she was leaving us.

*

"I want to suggest you something." Kenneth says when we are sitting at
the grand table in the kitchen. Even Yacko has stayed with us, legs
drawn to his chest and hugged by his arms. But, he still looks somewhat
defiant at Kenneth. "You will not be able to work for some days, but I
think you might need the money. What would you say if I work for you,
being a temp so to say?"

I?m stunned, and for some minutes, my voice is gone. Yacko is gaping and
blinking his eyes.

"But, do you have any experiences in such jobs?"

Kenneth shrugs. "Sometimes, I didn?t earn enough money with the dance. I
had to take other jobs. Working in restaurants has been one of them." He
says it lightly, as if it was nothing special. I believe that if I would
query him about his other jobs, I would gape like Yacko. Finally, he
shrugs again, following with one finger the grain in the table. "What do
you think about it?"

"You mean, you would work on her place? For granted?" Yacko interferes,
still captured in amazement.

"Yes, why not?" I shake my head at his statement. "It?s the least I
could do for you, for your family. And it would not even be enough to
reward all that I owe you."

Yacko laughs. "Honestly, you are the first of grand-ma?s ancient
students who doesn?t come for money."

Kenneth looks at him, then back to me. Finally, he shakes his head.

"No, I have no right to ask anything from you." He says, his voice
suddenly unsteady. "Contrary, as I said, I have very much to reward your
family. I ?" Quickly, he turns his face away from us, covering his eyes
with a hand. "I?m sorry."

All of sudden, I understand. Wanting to slap my head for my ignorance. I
understand the true reason why he wanted to accompany home us without
the others. It?s a retarded visit of condolence.

"I would be glad to accept your offer. Anyway, you had only to replace
me for three nights. Wednesday and Thursday are my free days." The words
leave my mouth faster than I thought they would. Now, as I know that he
felt obligation towards my family, it is easier to accept it. It?s not
humiliating any longer. And the light in his eyes recompenses me for my
decision. "Besides, if ever you might need a place to stay, you can have
the little apartment behind the school."

It is rather one single room with a bathroom and a kitchenette. First,
it was the apartment of my father, before he had married mama and they
moved in another apartment some streets from here. Then, my
grand-parents rented it to single persons. I didn?t have so much luck
with my boarders, especially the last was a real pest who harassed me,
until I kicked him out.

"We will see!" Kenneth replies indecisively, and Yacko who had opened
his mouth to protest, shuts it. "I cannot abuse you situation, Miss
Karen, but I will consider it."

Something annoying me all this time was this. "Would you please stop
calling me ?miss?! You?ve known me now for ? well, since I?ve been born.
Don?t you think, you can call me by my name."

Now, he is smiling again, a bit apologetically.

"Okay, Karen. It was just caused by my confusion, because I hadn?t
thought that the little girl I knew would be such a fine young lady. In
my mind, you were still a young tomboy. I?m sorry about it."

After this, we sit sometimes in silence, while Yacko is going to the
fridge. This boy! He never ceases eating. It?s just two hours since he
had finished his meal in the diner.

"I?m sorry to ask you this, but when did -? " Kenneth?s voice is husky,
when he finally asks the question, he was coming for.

"Four years ago. Out of nothing, grand-pa had a heart-attack in the
streets, and he died few days after that in the hospital." It?s the
first time I speak about it. Deep inside me, I know that this is the
true reason why I don?t like to go to hospitals. It?s not for the lack
of money, or the fear of trouble. It?s for the memory of grand-pa laying
in the white bed and the face of grand-ma. "I never thought, that she
loved him this much. She always appreciated other men looking after her,
and not only the men. Sometimes she made him suffer, but when he had
died she faded within few months. You know, like clothes you wash to hot
loose their color. And she died a half year after him. Nobody could
explain it. In books, in operas and ballets, people die of broken
hearts, it?s a topic. But, I think, it can happen in reality too."

"They had a very intense relation. Yes, if not he had left her?."
Kenneth is gazing on the table, but I see him swallow. Then he is wiping
his eyes quickly before he rises his head to look at me. "Maybe, she
needed him to keep her feet on the ground."

First, I don?t understand what he is meaning, but then I think about
father. How he lost the ground under his feet until he chose to die
deliberately. He had nobody to stay with him like grand-dad staying with
grand-ma.

Some minutes later, I?m surprised to hear myself speaking about father,
the problems he had to keep money together, and his behavior that
damaged the reputation of the school. Although he promised to fix up all
things when he was sober, our situation ended up being a mess. Kenneth
is listening attentively, his eyes filled with deep sorrow.

"Luckily, I had my own formation to distract myself from it. It was
grand-ma who told me that I should concentrate on my career." Thinking
about this, is already enough to cheer my mind up. "I got a granted
scholarship for a very good Dance School."

This was a real triumph for me. The first time, I had reached a goal
with my own strength.

"This is very fine. I have failed a few competitions." I can read in his
face, that the last words came out almost against his will.

"But you have been in Paris?"

Although, his eyes are still a bit sad, he smiles: "It was my last
chance, one of this things I owe to your grand-parents. They helped me
with her contacts."

"If you start chatting about dance now, we could do something more
useful." Yacko interrupts us. "What?s about eating?"

*

How could I forget this? I must absolutely convince Kenneth to stay with
us, because he created something very delightful from the few things we
had in the fridge. How could I forget his cooking? Even Yacko was
impressed, and he lost a bit of his defiance as long as we have eaten.

That?s what I?m thinking, laying in my bed. When Kenneth would live with
us, it would be like reviving the past times, because we would be three
people again. Almost a family.

 

*

Author?s notes:

*

1. Let?s talk about the characters! As I said in the Author?s notes of
the first chapter, Karen is Kaoru. I think after the first two chapters,
it has been clear that this story will not turn out to be K+K, and I
have already mentioned the principal pairing in the summary. However,
for justice, I wanted to give Karen/Kaoru a voice too and make her an
interesting character. Karen is not a kendoka like Kaoru, but in a
transfigured sense, she is a fighter and has Kaoru?s self-discipline.

2. Let?s talk about the characters (II)! Yes, I think quick prejudges
are a part of Misao?s character, but it doesn?t make her a "bad" person,
and some of Mimi?s prejudges in this story are explicable from her
education.

3. Let?s talk about the characters (III)! Karen?s grand-parents are my
original characters. They haven?t such an important role like Kumiko and
later appearing original characters, but some of her deeds have still
influence of the characters. Jasper Cagney is Chou, a little bit darker
version of Chou, but still him. Only his hair is shorter, because,
honestly, punks do not appear before the Eighties.

4. Let?s talk about New York! The Empire Diner is located in Chelsea. I
don?t know if it is cheap or not, but I like how it looks.
SoHo = South of Houston Street, it's the part of Manhatten, located in
the south of Greenwich Village. Broome Street is one of the Streets in
SoHo. SoHo is famous of his warehouses and in the time where this story
is settled, artists started to tranfrom the empty warehouses in ateliers.

5. Let?s talk about lifestyle! "The Sleeping Beauty", ballet composed by
Tchaikovsky. In 1961, it has been performed in Paris with the famous
Russian ballet-dancer Rudolf Nureijev. That?s when Shintaro has seen it.
Beethoven = Do I need to say something about him?
Eric Satie: French composer form the Beginning of the 20th century,
especially famous for his piano pieces who have often funny titles like
"The march of a fat man, formed like a pear". (It?s very difficult to
create the impression of music with words. Imagine you whatever music
you think fitting to a marionette.)
"America" = One of the famous songs from the "West Side Story".
The sakabatou in the toilet basin = it?s one of my silly jokes again.
The French artist Marcel Duchamp set a toilet basin of a rostrum,
declaring it as an art work. The same Marcel Duchamp lived in Greenwich
Village in the Twenties. Though, the Sixties were the time of pop-art
(Andy Warhol again), I think that idea it?s quite fitting for pop-art.

Last but not least, the thank. Thank you, Shini no Miko and Fitz for
your reviews. They were very encouraging for me. Especially, because the
creation of this story in a language in which I?m not really sensible,
is sometimes a very difficult birth.

Thank you Wombat for reminding me that I should not make this story too
complicated and for your recommendation of literature.

THANK YOU! THANK YOU! I love you all for it.

 

Posted first: 12.09.2002

Revision: 19-10-2002

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