“Oh, very, very much. It is like a dream to me. Somehow, it feels as if I have always known and loved it.”
“You are Christian, Mrs. Paradise?”
Annie nodded, though she was far from sure.
“Then, unlike Buddhists, you do not believe you may have lived here before.”
“No, but I wish I had. It is so perfect, such a right way to live.”
Tanaki shook his head. “All of that is ending, though. It is the old Japan, dying. This economic miracle has been no miracle at all for most of the people. Just hard work, much pressure. All of the ugliness of the West. And soon all the old beauty will be no more.”
“It may change, but it doesn’t have to die.”
“It will. I will be replaced. The empty souls will take over.”
”No, Mr. Tanaki. Please.”
The man turned to her and cocked his head, appraising for a moment.
“Perhaps, Mrs. Paradise, you would like to see the Imperial Palace Katsura?”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed.
He nodded. “Then you and I will go tomorrow.”
Annie knew that a privilege was being extended to hen-a privilege and an unusual opportunity. It took a special permit for anyone, much less a foreign woman, to view the villa of Hideyoshi, the sixteenthcentury ruler.
“Tanaki’s got a crush on you,” Brenda warned. “Watch out—he’ll jump you in the teahouse.”
“Brenda, don’t be absurd!” Elise told her. “Annie, it’s very difficult to get into Katsura—it’s considered by most experts to be the ultimate Japanese achievement in architecture and gardens. Kobori Enshu, the designer of the garden, insisted there be no limit on cost or on time, and no interference.”
“Sounds like a government job,” Brenda commented.
“Hardly. The gardens are designed so that wherever you stand seems the best view, and there are four teahouses—one for each season.”
“Is it perfection?” Annie asked.
“I don’t know,” Elise admitted. “I’ve never seen it.”
Brenda whistled and turned to Annie. “Now I’m sure he’s got the hots for you. Look, couldn’t you warm him up and convince him my idea is good—trade off the shipyards and stay the boss?” Both Elise and Annie stared at Brenda until she shrugged in defeat.
“Be sure to see the murals by the Kano school of painters,” Elise said.
“They’re supposed to be spectacular.”
And they were. Katsura, with its breathtaking frozen perfection, wasn’t cold or too formal—at least not to Annie. “The perfection, the simplicity, frees you,” she said to Mr. Tanaki as he stood outside one of the structures and they looked out at the gardens. “It allows the spirit to rest, rest completely,” she said with wonder.
“All done for Hideyoshi. So much beauty, possible only because of his wealth.” Tanaki turned to Annie. “He was a general and became dictator. He was a violent man.”
”Hard to believe,” she said, looking around her. The pine needles were swept up, each pebble seemed placed, in fact she was sure they had been. They stood together in silence. After a time, she began to walk and Tanaki followed her, silently.
Elise had been right. Wherever she and Tanaki moved in the garden, one could view ultimate beauty. Annie felt something deep inside her move, or break free. Something about this marriage of mankind and nature was so right, so perfect. Paradise.
There, on the gentle green rise, she at once knew something more about the world. Like all spiritual events, it was wordless, transcendent, indescribable. For a moment, a timeless moment, each thing, each molecule, was perfectly in place, in time, and she with it. A depthless feeling of joy mixed with sadness pierced her, moved her.
She was flooded With gratitude. And she knew she would never forget it. She turned to Tanaki.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His only response was a bow.
They eventually walked through the other two parts of the villa, and Annie dutifully looked at the paintings.
“They have been renovated—no, you say restored. For the first time in five hundred and seventy years.”
“Very beautiful,” Annie said.
“I, too, prefer the garden.” Tanaki smiled. Outdoors, he turned to her. “It is time for luncheon.
Will you dine with me?”
She nodded, but when she did, he only led her deeper into the gardens.
They continued the walk, Annie holding her enlightenment inside her like a fragile thing. She hoped that nothing would spoil the mood.
They came then to a wooden teahouse, set beside the water.
“Please,” Tanaki said, and she removed her pumps and stepped up the two steps to the matted floor. She knelt beside him in the teahouse, transfixed by the views.
The perfection and peace continued, increased by the beauty that was doubled by the pond’s reflection.
“We shall lunch,” Tanaki said, and a screen slipped open. A kimono-robed woman smiled and bowed. “Kyo bento.
Picnic lunch, Kyoto style,” Tanaki told Annie.
“We may eat here?” She was delighted, and shocked.
“It is an indulgence. You see, I paid for the restorations.” The woman handed Annie a lacquer box, black and shining with a pattern of iris on the cover. Tanaki took one, too. He opened the top lid, slid it under the box, and revealed the rice, fish, salad, and pickled vegetables of Kyoto cuisine.
They ate together, at first in silence. Annie sighed. “This is all so special. It has changed me.”
“Ah, yes. Beauty transforms.” Tanaki also sighed. “Your psychologist Maslow did experiments on beauty. Do you know?”
She shook her head.
“He and a colleague made three rooms-one beautiful, one plain, one ugly. They asked participants to judge pictures of faces. In the beautiful room, their judgments were positive, but in both the ugly and the plain rooms the same pictures were seen negatively.” He sighed.
“That is very bad news for me. It means that plain is not good enough.
All must have beauty to see beauty. And there is only one Katsura.”
He turned again to Annie. “Tell me again about this Sylvan Glades.
What does it look like?”
Annie described the school, the community and grounds, and Dr. Gancher.
“It is expensive, and that makes it exclusive,” she admitted, “but with more money …”
“I would like to visit this school. Perhaps bring some doctors from Tokyo to see it. And …” He paused.
“Perhaps bring my son to see it, too.”
Annie nodded. “I think Hiroshi might like it. My daughter does.”
Tanaki looked at her. “Mrs. Paradise, do you think I should fight Mr. Griffin?”
“Yes, but I don’t believe you should fight him your way.”
“Not let the stockholders decide? Show their disapproval?”
“No. A good father must sometimes lead his children. Give the stockholders immediate treats, and long-term benefits. Sell the shipyards, buy the cement plants. Gain profits, stop losses, stop Gil Griffin. And Bloogee Industries can make the shipyards work.”
”And if they cannot?”
“Nothing lasts forever, Mr. Tanaki. No matter what we would like.
And some burdens are too heavy to carry alone.”
He looked away from her, over the railing of the teahouse, past the rocks, past the lake and the pine trees. “Yes,” he said. “You are right.” .
The initial contracts—letters of intent, really—had been drawn up quickly and signed. By the following day they were all assembled around Tanaki’s low table on flat cushions doing the final-contract read through.
Then Mr. Atawa was called away. He, in turn, called out Mr. Tanaki, who then gestured to Bob Bloogee. The women looked at one another and shrugged.
”More boys’ stuff,” Brenda surmised, and shrugged again. “You think we can get out of here soon? My knees are killing me.”
But before they could answer her, Bob Bloogee returned and knelt beside Elise. “Dear, I have some bad news.
It’s your mother.”
“Helena is sick?”
”It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. Elise. your mother is dead.”
.
They packed and were ready to leave Kyoto in less than an hour.
Walking out to the car, Annie watched as Brenda supported Elise on one side, Bob Bloogee lending support on the other. For Annie, too, it was painful to leave. It wasn’t the sweetness of their victory that she wanted to savor. Something else had been given to her here, something planted, and the tiny sprout needed nurturing and care, the way the gardens at Katsura had been tended. New York was not a place to cultivate one’s garden, Annie realized. Taking her seat beside Elise, she thought of the kouta by Izumi that she had heard at the banquet just two days before, My lonely departure From Kyoto Hiding tears, At the train window. Oh, please, please, Someone give me A cup of tea.
Good Night, Lady.
Elise stood in the doorway of the main viewing room at Campbell’s Funeral Home and looked around. Every detail had been planned by Helena, saving Elise from the horror of last-minute funeral decisions.
At least she didn’t have to try to imagine what her mother would have wanted. No need for that, Elise thought. Everything was being done exactly as Mother had planned, right down to the luncheon at Mother’s apartment after the cemetery. Elise knew that her mother had taken care of her one last time, and despite feeling so lost and sad, she was able to smile. Thank you, Mother, she thought.
Elise longed for courage, for something to help her get through this ordeal. Her loss and grief was mixed with tremendous self-pity. She craved a drink, she had to admit, and again remembered the pact she and Brenda had made at Thanksgiving. In Japan, when she had gotten the news of her mother’s death, her first thought had been to have a drink.
The reaction, the desperation of it, frightened her. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how dependent on alcohol she really was.
And with it came her renewed resolve not to drink. No matter what.
But this was hard.
She sighed and stepped forward. It was time to be her mother’s daughter. She took her place on the line, shaking hands and nodding mechanically. Lally Snow, Gunilla Goldberg, some people she didn’t know. then an older woman, Mrs. Sonderberg, Mother’s friend. Annie, of course. And Brenda, who gave her hand a tight squeeze. Dr. Brennan. the Van Gelders, several dozen others. It would be a good showing. Despite Helena’s long illness, people had not forgotten her.
Elise was grateful for that.
She saw him then as he walked into the room, his eyes looking about as he moved. Larry came toward her. He stood before her for a moment, his arms open slightly, inviting but not intruding.
She hesitated for the briefest second, then took two steps to him and felt herself enfolded. The lightness of his hands on her back caused a deep, low moan to escape her lips. Then in the next breath, she was crying.
At first, the depth of her sorrow frightened her. Suddenly she knew what the fear was about. Her life stretched before her with no one standing guard against her own mortality. There was no one now between her and eternity, she thought, and clung more tightly to Larry’s broad chest.
She let her sobs subside, then accepted the handkerchief he offered.
“What do you want me to do, Elise? What do you need?”
“Just stay near me, Larry. I need you.” She dabbed at her eyes again, then took his hand in hers and returned to her place on the receiving line, Larry by her side. It seemed as if a veil had been lifted, a mystery solved. Not only had her mother stood guard over her mortality, she thought, but Helena had also stood guard over Elise’s morality.
Now there was no one to judge, no one to pull her back, no one to remind her not to be ridiculous. It’s my life, she kept thinking, over and over. How do I want to live the rest of the time I’ve been given?
She thought of Uncle Bob’s words, Don’t waste the second half of your life.
I thought I was doing the right thing when I married Bill. But the rules have changed, Mother. A younger man would not have been appropriate in your time, but it is now, Elise thought. Why is it okay for men to love and be loved by younger women? Why can’t I love and be loved by a younger man? And I am, Mother, I know it. He loves me.
Maybe not forever. He might even disappoint me. But right now, I know he loves me, and I love him, and that I won’t let go of, no matter how ridiculous anyone thinks I may be.
Annie watched Elise sink into the down cushions of the sofa in Helenas living room and kick off her shoes.
“Whew, my feet are killing me,” Brenda said as she kneaded her own stockinged feet.
“Wait a minute, Brenda,” Annie said with a smile. “That’s Elise’s line. You weren’t on your feet all day today.”
”Oh, that’s right. I’m just so used to kvetching, I fell right into it,” Brenda agreed. ‘How are you holding up, kiddo?” she asked Elise, her voice filled with concern.
Brenda amazes me, Annie thought. She couldn’t have been kinder to Elise. After Larry left, in fact, Brenda seemed to consider Elise her personal charge.
“I could use a drink,” Elise said.
“And I want a piece of chocolate cake,” Brenda said. “What else is new?”
“I’m not going to have a drink.” Elise sighed.
Brenda grimaced. “I guess that means I’m not going to have any cake.
” “I’m so proud of you both,” Annie said. “With all you two have been through, you both have been real troupers about keeping your deal. ” Now Elise grimaced. “But brother, did I want a drink today.” She shook her head and looked at Brenda. “It’s not easy, is it, kid?”
Brenda shook her head slowly. “No, it’s not. But, at least I’ve lost some weight.”
Annie noted Elise was pensive for a moment. “And I got some clarity.”
She paused for a moment, as if considering whether to speak freely or not, then continued, “Today, at Campbell’s, when Larry put his arms around me, I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I love him. And that he loves me.”
Annie watched Elise first look at Brenda, then turn in her direction.
“And he’s written a screenplay. It’s wonderful, really wonderful.
It’s all about a woman’s loneliness and fear. It’s brilliant, really.
It should be produced. It must be produced. But I’ve been hesitant to produce it … and star in it. Mother’s advice was to never, never, put up my own money for a movie I’m in. But”-she looked at her friends and smiled—”Mother wasn’t always right. So, I’m going to do it.”