the words out. âOmigod, Leo, it is you, isnât it?â
Leo nodded. âMe.â
Relief washed over me. Then delight. And then I was just pissed. âWhy didnât you tell me?â
He shrugged. âYou had questions needing answers. You couldnât have asked the roshi.â
His answers about Garson-roshi, about himself âIt was himself heâd been so hard on. Iâd have to rethink everything heâd said.
Another clutch of students hurried by, one of the men pausing for a âHello, Garson-roshi. Iâm looking forward to this sesshin.â
It was Leo I had to deliver Yamanaâs warning to. Suddenly, it would have been worlds easier to give the warning to self-absorbed Rob. But Leo, how could Leo be planning anything Yamana-roshi considered so dangerous? I wanted to look away, to be no part of this message. I maintained my gaze.
âLeo. Yamana-roshi didnât send me to this specific sesshin. He has recommended your sesshins in the past. When I told him I was coming he thought it was exactly the right thing for me . . . initially.â
âBut?â
âBut when he heard you were leaving and that this sesshin was going to be in honor of your student, Aeneas, he said to tell you that, thatââ I swallowed, then repeated the words verbatim. âHe said, âTell Garson I know what he is planning and he must not do that.ââ
Leo didnât move, not his body, not his expression. He looked neither chastened nor surprised. Whatever his reaction he was not reflecting it back on me. He stood there in the failing light of the November evening; he could, I realized, have been Yamana-roshi. At this moment he wasnât Leo, he was the roshi.
Then he turned back to the wheelbarrow. âTimeâs short. If youâre going to take that bag of beans up the hill and get into the zendo by seven, youâre going to have to make some tough-broad moves with that wheelbarrow.â
âLeoââ
He seemed to draw into himself and become not exactly larger but majestic in a way Rob had not. He said, âYou donât contradict the teacher.â Then he grinned, as if switching back from roshi to Leo, as if nothing had happened. âSince youâre Yamanaâs student, Iâm giving Rob a new job assignment. Youâll be my jisha.â
âYour assistant! How could youâ?â
âYou donât contradict the teacher. If Yamana trusts you, so do I.â
I started to speak and realized I couldnât get words out. And shouldnât, for that matter. This, too, was not all that surprising, at least not in the context of Zen. Masters can be inexplicable. Ours not to wonder why . . .
âDarcy, when you dump that bag of cacao beans, see if you can get the cook to make me a cup of his fine cocoa. Iâll just have time for it before we get to the zendo.â
My head was spinning. I was glad to have something as concrete as pushing a load up a hill to anchor me to reality.
âAnd Darcy?â
âYes?â
âHave him make you a cup, too.â
Leo, Garson-roshi, slumped back against the truck bed. It was the New York studentâs trust that got to him. She should be able to trust him, it was the least she should expect, to trust that her teacher wouldnât put her in danger. But had he done just that?
He had given the wheel of dharma a big turn when he set up this sesshinâhis last sesshin. His students each had an opinion as to why he was suddenly leaving Redwood Canyon Monastery with no future plans for either it or himself. The skeptical, he was sure, assumed he was back on the bottle, the hopeful hoped that, after his long exile in the woods, heâd been offered a city post he couldnât mention yet; the wiser focused on Aeneas and figured after six years things had finally caught up with their teacher.
A man is being chased by a tiger. He runs as fast as he can, as long as
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley