Someday, she thought, will I have a life like that to look back on?
Grandfather had spent his younger days traveling throughout Asia,
painting people’s faces. “I first went to China as a soldier in 1937. Back
then we were an invading army and we did much that was bad. I was
a careless young man then; I never looked at the people’s faces. I never
tried to understand them.
“I’ve spent the rest of my life going back along that trail I once took so
thoughtlessly. I wanted to look, to notice what I never saw so long ago.”
“You did just that,” Mother reassured him as he lay in bed, finish-
ing his last painting. “You noticed. You understood.”
After that Grandfather stopped talking all together. When visitors
came, he would just nod and smile softly, then turn his gaze to the ceil-
ing. His eyes were somewhere far, far away.MAKIKO WAS ON the way back from school one day when she first
saw the man in the yellow suit. Threading her way through the usual
chaos, businessmen and shoppers and Don’t Walk signals and rock bands
practicing on the sidewalk, she took a shortcut through an alley, and that
was when she saw the street performer. He had a tender, thoughtful face
set off by a black beard and bushy eyebrows. His clothes, a loose shirt and
baggy pants, looked like a costume of India. The fabric was so brilliant
and clean that it seemed to float above the drab pavement. He wore a vest
of the palest lavender and a fez of deep goldenrod. Cradled in his arms
was an unfamiliar instrument, which he strummed like a guitar.
But most strange was the way he looked right into Makiko’s eyes,
flashing her a shy smile. When their eyes met, the noise of the city
went quiet, and the music from the unusual guitar flooded her ears in a
tickling, laughing stream.
In a rush of joy, she danced a few steps.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” said a man in a suit, the contents
of his briefcase spilling on the sidewalk.
Makiko, realizing that she had bumped into him, turned beet red
and helped collect the white sheets.
Later, at home, she suddenly wished she could share her experience
with Grandfather. How he would have appreciated that man with his
beautiful yellows and purples!AFEZ IS A
FELT HAT
SHAPED A
BIT LIKE
A BUCKET,
WITH A
LONG
TASSEL.