The Wishing Trees by John Shors Read Free Book Online Page B

heartbeats later, the sound of traditional Japanese music emerged from the kitchen. Chie returned, once again filling the glasses, even though they were almost full.
    “Bath?” Chie asked, pretending to vigorously scrub herself.
    Ian remembered how the Japanese loved to bathe at night, sometimes before dinner. He and Kate had often gone to a local bathhouse in Kyoto, splitting up into the men’s and women’s sections, sitting under squat showers to clean themselves before sliding into tubs full of naked strangers. “Fancy having a go at it?” he asked Mattie. “That’s what they do over here.”
    Mattie glanced at Chie, who again pretended to scrub herself. “No . . . that’s okay. But thank you.”
    Chie smiled. “You beautiful eyes,” she said, kneeling to sip more of her beer. She moved her arms as if swimming. “Your eyes, ocean, same blue.”
    “Your eyes are pretty too.”
    “Ah, my eyes, like dirt. No can swim in mud.”
    Mattie giggled as Chie pretended to get stuck while swimming. “You just have to try harder,” she said, prompting Chie to dig herself out of the ground.
    “Me too old. No can see. No can hear. No can swim.”
    “If you’re too old, why do you sit on the floor? Doesn’t it hurt your bottom?”
    Chie pursed her lips, shrugging. “Bottom?”
    “Right here,” Mattie replied, touching the underside of her hip.
    “My bottom gone. Disappear. So no hurt.”
    As Mattie smiled, a new song emerged from the unseen stereo. Akiko entered the room carrying a large porcelain pot. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said, placing the pot on the table. “I hope that my mother has been behaving herself.”
    “She’s lovely,” Ian replied, helping Akiko place plates on the table.
    “I have made you some nabe . A traditional Japanese food.”
    Mattie leaned forward as Akiko removed the pot’s lid. Inside, a dark, steaming broth contained cabbage, bok choy, boiled eggs, mushrooms, shrimp, clams, and fish. Though Mattie had never seen such ingredients in the same dish, the smell emanating toward her couldn’t have been more savory. The clams were opening slowly, as if Akiko had just put them into the boiling soup.
    “Eating nabe together is an old Japanese tradition,” Akiko said. “We believe that sitting close together, and eating from the same pot, will make us even better friends.”
    “A beaut of a tradition,” Ian replied, lifting a beer bottle to refill Chie’s glass. “Compai.”
    “Compai.”
    The glasses clinked and the new acquaintances began to eat, using oversized chopsticks to pluck morsels from the stew. Chie appeared to drink more than she ate, her laughter growing louder. She often swayed to the music and was continuously handing Mattie more food, treating Mattie as if she were her granddaughter. While Mattie and Chie smiled and bantered, Ian and Akiko spoke about how Japan had changed over the past fifteen years. Some of the changes, like equality for women, Akiko spoke about with pride. Other transformations, such as increasing crime, she lamented. She asked many questions about Ian’s time in Kyoto and was fascinated by his experiences. As they spoke, Ian noticed that Mattie often glanced at Akiko, and sometimes at the nearby shrine and portrait. The pot of nabe was finally emptied, and Chie stood up, bowed, and disappeared into the kitchen.
    “We should help her,” Ian said, starting to rise.
    Akiko shook her head. “Please sit, Ian-san. She will be much happier if you remain here.”
    “But I’m sure there’s a heap of work to do.”
    “You are right. But she wants to contribute to our house. If she does not, then she will worry that she is a burden to me.” Akiko smiled and refilled their glasses with green tea, which they had begun to drink. “Are you excited for your trip tomorrow to Kyoto?”
    Ian nodded, though he wasn’t looking forward to visiting the city where Kate and he fell in love. Too many memories resided there, memories that