Chapter 2

Ooo ... missed something important. Sato-san’s second adventure to Crossroads was by way of JW Flintkote’s portal. They walked through together but the portal knows ... JW went to his caretaker ... Sato was delivered to his.

(Another thing ... every conversation is in Japanese ... remember that. I don’t speak Japanese ... translating the journals was left to those who do.)

[Onr more ... there are thoughts, actiona and morals that DO NOT translate ... Western Europeans will never understand that death is a way of life.]

“I can’t say I’m unhappy about it,” Mahiro said.

Mioko grinned, “I created quite the stir at the regular meeting of the Society for Creative Anachronism, Nippon Chapter.”

“I’ll bet you did!” Sato-san said. He nodded at the cavorting teens.

“Oh ... they’re three of the ones who turned you down,” she chuckled. “My reception had reprecussions.”

Sato raised his eyebrows, he raised his hand to chest high and gestured ‘tell me more,’ in the oriental style. Hand extended, palm down and four fingers curling to his palm. Repeat the finger curl. In other cultures that would signal ‘go away’ ... ln Japan it means tell me more.

Instantly, the four teens started practicing the gesture. Like a trained family of quad girls they said, “Ah, so ... like this.” they practiced it several times. They giggled. “What else you got?”

They were four very pretty Japanese teens ... reminded him of his dead wife and her cohorts when he first saw her. She was in kōtōgakkō (high school), a third year student (A senior if she was in the USA) in pre-university studies.

The girls were being targeted by a group of salarymen ... low level executives. Japanese trains and busses are packed to the rafters and teenage girls are importuned constantly ... subjected to unwanted groping and even rape.

No one was sure who it was that left the salerymen gasping on the floor of the commuter train but he became a ‘guardian.’ When he wasn’t harrassing ships he was protecting his future wife and her friends.

These four were still learning to be “Japanese.” Mioko was the most ‘settled’ in her skin, the other three were more gaijin than Japanese. They were Cassandrans playing at being Japanese. Their mores and habits are ingrained. Regardless of looks ... they were mostly in their 40’s, highly educated and ‘driven’ to succeed.

Traditional Japanese males ... the ones that train with the men of the former Special Naval Landing Forces (SNLF), (Kaigun Tokubetsu Rikusentai), the best trained maritime forces in the pre-war Imperial Japanese Navy, are the equivalent of the US Marines. Every man was a minimum of 6 feet tall and superbly trained and instantly obedient.

Chief Petty Officer, Japanese Coast Guard, Mahiro Sato was VERY traditional, “What else you got?” from four teen girls produced the Japanese male equivalent of “THE MOM LOOK.” The Japanese ‘mom look’ is accompanied by one loud hand clap.

UH OH.

In distant times, a single hand clap would produce instant obeisance ... figurative tail between the legs and cringing ... much cringing ... heads could roll ... really ... snick ... thump ... roll in the dust.

Instant silence.

“What other gestures do You have,” instructed the suddenly Samurai.

All four ... Mioko included said, “Hai Sama” and bowed the bow of 60 degrees, (Yes, sir doesn’t cover it... Hai is more than a simple Yes ... and Sama is considerably more ... oceans more ... than Sir. Sixty degrees is the last bow before prostration.)

Like a well rehearsed choral group the four said, “What other gestures should we know to be more Japanese?”

Mahiro Sato-sama, Samuri, smiled.

He demonstrated finger counting ... hand displayed, fingers splayed.

“One.” Thumb tucked.

“Two.” Index finger tucked over thumb.

“Three.” Fuck you finger tucked over index.

“and so on,” he said. He looked expectantly.

The girls complied.

“Again,” he said.

They did.

“You are at a restaurant ... replete, you want the bill. One index finger touching the table the other hands index finger crossing the first. An alert wait person will present the bill.”

The girls crossed fingers...”I want the bill.”

So much of any language is gestures, looks and stance. Different cultures use the same postures to portray different things. One can go wrong in a hurry.

“Just wait until I teach the fan,” he said.

Mioko never did explain the repercussions. Not that day anyway.