Salvation

[Maid of Marvels]

Light.

Shadow.

Light.

Shadow.

She was fallling!

Hurtling downward through ribbons of clouds.

Arms and legs flailing wildly.

Trying to catch hold of something.

Anything.

Where was her parachute?

She would certainly be killed if she didn't stop...

If she didn't...

Wake up.

Wake up.

WAKE UP!

She jerked awake, the scream that had hovered impatiently, eager to escape, cut off as her body jolted upright; gasping for air, swallowing deep, ravenous, lungfuls of air.

"It's all right, baby girl," a soft, gentle voice droned in and out of her consciousness, at once near as it was far, like waves lapping at the shore of a lake.

"Drink."

She swallowed, coughing and spluttering as a searing heat burned her throat and was diffused throughout her body.

She swallowed again.

"Nighttime has come,
Gone is the sun,
Dream sky is spun,
Stars, one by one...
Oyasumi, hush my love,
Oyasumi, hush my love,
Oyasumi, hush my love,
Hush, hush, hush... "

The ice-cold fingers of fear began to lose their grip on her heart as the comforting, mellifluous beacon of sound guided her back into a deep, dreamless sleep as unseen hands tucked blankets around her shivering form.

"...Oyasumi, close your eyes,
Oyasumi, close your eyes,
Oyasumi, close your eyes,
Sleep, sleep, sleep. "

******

Read along with us as we take another adventure into our imaginations.
Comments, suggestions and critiques are always welcome by PM and IM.
Steiner & Maid​

 

[Steiner]

Mister Dawn

It was wednesday, and on wednesday a kindly soul donated some of his time to pass blankets among the homeless folk of Norimoto park. This was helpful and a wonderful kind act - but the donor didn't have the time to pass them out fairly and instead dumped them in the center of the park. The homeless, some of them scarred by their hard lives, often wound up fighting over them, and Mister Dawn knew that if he wanted peace on Wednesday night then he had to be there to see they were distributed equitably.

Mister Dawn always started the day off according to strict routine - finding the this comforting and pleasurable. As the sun rose he was stood in the Shinto Temple near the entrance to the huge park. After washing himself in the pure water provided by the monks, he would make an offering and then move on. Under the largest Cypress tree in the whole park a group of men gathered every day to do Tai Chi, and Mister Dawn joined them, always five minutes after they had started. They would perform the complex movements together and then bow to each other before going on their way - the men donning suits for their salaryman jobs and Mister Dawn remaining as he was and crossing the park to join a group of old folks who performed their morning radio exercises here.

After respectfully parting from the elders, Mister Dawn would make his way to the Starbucks across the street where he would order a Venti Mocha latte with no syrup and eat a cookie. He would banter cheerfully with the young barista's in Japanese or English - whichever they chose to greet him with.

Thus fortified it would be time to head back into the park to perform the work of the day. The Barista's would bow to their gaijin mascot as he left, secure in the knowledge that another day had started just as it should and would, no doubt proceed in the same fashion. After ten years of this, Mister Dawn was a little touch of sanity and order in the day of everyone he met. Nobody would say he was normal, but there was a predictability and reliability to his eccentricities that now seemed to merely add character to the man.

And he was eccentric. For a start he was a gaijin in Osaka, second city of Japan. That, alone, would have marked him out as an individual - but even a gaijin will fit in eventually, and Mister Dawn spoke flawless Japanese and knew all the customs. There was the manner of his dress - black leather shoes, white slacks, a shirt of some soft pastel colour and a white longcoat that he always wore undone - even in winter. He wore his waist length ashblonde hair unbound.

But all of this was something that one could become accustomed to with time. His work in the park was a little stranger. Like every other municipality in Japan, Osaka was aware of its homeless problem. Whilst there were now more safety nets to stop people from entering this caste of outcasts, once you DID become homeless it remained nearly impossible to rejoin working society. Like most Japanese cities, Osaka spent nearly as much money on cops to move the homeless on as it did helping them survive. Winters were cold in Osaka and the death toll was always high in the parks and tunnels and underpasses - but most people kept themselves deliberate ignorant and solving the problem never became a political priority - provided the shopping malls and highstreets were kept free of them.

Mister Dawn had been working with the homeless in Norimoto for a decade now and whilst he had no official position on any taskforce, everyone was certain he was working for the government, or some big charity, because why else would a man waste his life this way? When queried, Government departments would admit to having heard of him, but not be able to place him exactly. Somehow, chase all you want, he would always be working for some other department and not the one you were asking.

So, as he walked under the bare cherry trees towards the blanket drop off point, Mister Dawn was aware that he was watched and commented upon as he went, but showed no sign that such observation concerned him. Some of the homeless were walking along too, and he greeted them pleasantly. A ragtag mix of the eccentric and the just plain weird, they greeted him in return. Everyone knew Mister Dawn. Reaching the stack of thick wool, he began to isue them in an unhurried and calm fashion, with the homeless congregating in an orderly enough group.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Like many others who made their home in the tent village ensconced within the confines of Norimoto Park, Hasegawa Hideo had been a salaried worker (in his case, an engineer), in Osaka until the recession cost him his job. Too ashamed to face his family with the news, he had simply gone missing from the life he had once been a part of only to reinvent himself in an entirely different culture that was the Homeless Society.

Awake before five in the morning, he shared tea with other residents before making his way onto the city's streets where he would collect old newspapers, cans and bottles. The recycling provided him with enough money to pay one thousand yen a month to the Society for his share of rice and cooking gas and allowed him a visit to the public bath every three days.

By ten o'clock he was on his bicycle, starting a one hour ride to a plot of land that had been donated to the inhabitants of Norimoto Park where he would, with others, tend the garden that provided vegetables to the Society as well as generating a meager revenue when sold.

A small form sat in front of the wood fire, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. She spoke to no one and no one spoke to her - except for Hasegawa-san - who approached her, wrapping a new blanket around her shoulders. The additional warmth pleased her and she smiled shyly, nodding a silent thank you.

Eight nights earlier, drawn to the Park's outer boundary by a blazing flash of light that he had thought was a fire (and luckily was not), Hasegawa had found her crumpled in a heap on the ground. There had been no sign of local youths who were part of a terroristic campaign against the homeless nor had she any visible signs of trauma, but the young woman had been feverish and had been murmuring words he couldn't make sense of.

After discovering that she had no identification and didn't seem to know her own name, he brought her to his cardboard and blue plastic home where he had been caring for her since. "Aiko," he said quietly, calling her by the name he had given her. "Drink your tea and then we will go."

Now that she was steadier on her feet, she accompanied him everywhere he went; either following behind him or perched in the basket on the front of his bicycle. Today he would take her with him to the garden. She seemed to enjoy the busy work of pulling weeds, or at least he imagined that she did. Aiko seemed not to find fault with many things -- except in her dreams. Hideo sighed. Whatever had happened to her must have been terrible indeed.

 

[Steiner]

Mister Dawn

With the blanket allocation safely achieved, it was time to spend his afternoon in the garden. In deference to the idea that the community fended for itself, he didn't actually plant, harvest or weed - but he often prepared seedlings and helped with some of the lighter work of the place.

Today he also had some Daikon seeds that an acquaintance had given him, which he was going to pass on to the community collective as a gift. The Daikon would make the bland food that they perforce generally served a little spicier and more interesting. Or perhaps they could sell them to an organic restaurant in one of Osaka's trendier areas.

He arrived reasonably early after lunchtime - a meal he generally skipped. There were already some workers in evidence and he nodded pleasantly to them as he walked serenely between the neat rows of well tended vegetables. This garden had given a new lease of life to the community collective, he mused, and it was key to both their economy and their sense of self-worth.

Passing some cabbage he saw the telltale signs of a pest at work - and this affected the perfection of the work here. Bending in close he brushed his hand over the cabbages and watched the parasitic worms drop, dead, to the soil. The small exercise of power over the natural order gave him a little thrill of pleasure and he returned to his vigil, well satisfied with his work.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Aiko moved quietly between the rows, tugging up weeds and new grass that were too close for the rakes to remove them without risk. When she reached the cabbages, she paused curiously and poked at one grub and then another before gathering a few in the palm of her hand. They were dead. All dead.

Lifting her head, she automatically sought out Hasegawa-san who was tending the garden further on, but when her eyes met those of the gaijin instead, she quickly lowered her own and began to bury the worms. By the time she reached the end of the row, she had forgotten why she had found the lifeless forms of any curiosity at all. By the time they returned to Norimoto Park, Aiko didn't even remember the worms.

What she did recall, however unsettling, was the blue of the gaijin's eyes and a nagging feeling that she was meant to know or at least remember something. Something important.

That night Aiko and Hagesawa Hideo joined the others in front of a black and white television that was run off of a car battery. For the first time, the others exclaimed in amazement, someone had begun to notice the attacks aimed at such as themselves. A two-edged blade, many commented. If someone noticed this, then they, too, would be noticed. Before now, even the government had turned a blind eye to the homeless. Would they now be made to leave?

Aiko sighed and rose, making her way back to the cardboard and blue plastic house that she currently considered... "home".

 

[Steiner]

Mister Dawn

At night he left the community, travelling to the apartment where he made his home. It wasn't that he feared the cold, or the possibility of violence - in fact he barely noticed either - it was more that he left the night to other creatures and feelings. It wouldn't seem right for him to be around there in the dark.

Things had been getting bad around the park, of late, however. Gangs had begun fighting wars in the streets around it, trying to cement their little turfs into a kingdom. There were just too many youngsters out of work, because of the economy - and their drive and ambition found an outlet wherever it could.

Mister Dawn had older words for such motivations, however - Wrath, Greed and Pride. He had no truck with any of them. It was with a sigh that he greeted the three figures that stepped out of the shadows of the railway bridge that marked the edge of the park. Little boys - how could he convince them to go home?

"Oi - foreigner. Old man. There's a toll on this road!"

Ahh, the oldest trick. Would the foreigner be too scared to complain about paying the toll?

"Little boys, there's no toll here beyond your invention. Go home and do something useful, like studying."

But Dawn had judged them poorly, he realised as he tasted their determination. Instead of answering him verbally they drew long knives and closed on him. Where had they become so accustomed to casual violence?

"Bad choice of words, jiji. Now we're going to fuck you up and take all your money..."

Of course. It wasn't just the turf violation, wasn't it? This was probably a good place to deal drugs during the evening and early night. They were probably stashing their supply and dividing out the money.

The first knife caught him in the thigh and sheared through fabric and flesh, but Mister Dawn didn't fall. The second knife he was ready for and he caught it in the palm of his hand, crumpling the steel until it broke. By the time the third blade came in he was ready for it, and angry. It shattered apart against his flesh and burst into red hot shards, making its owner howl.

He held death in his hand, ready for them. How fragile were human lives! How susceptible to the power of tiny changes. Clamp an artery here, flood an airway there - and they were gone. The light of his aspect rose in his eyes, and wrath shone in his hand - making them cower and wail.

And then he was gone, running under the bridge and away. He had almost taken life! He had almost harmed a human! All of his good work here was almost undone in an instant!

While he ran the wound in his thigh sealed, followed by the rent in his trousers. Without a fuss, the blood simply faded and vanished. Behind him, the thugs ran for home at top speed, leaving two knives in the grass - one twisted and bent the other shattered and still glowing.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Aiko sat in the dark, rocking and absent-mindedly rubbing her thigh. The fragile tendrils of the dream that had awakened her long gone and already forgotten and the only thing she was certain of was that it had not been the Falling Dream. If only she could remember. If only...

A flush of embarrassment spread across her face when she heard Hideo's voice, hoarse with sleep. "Douka shita no?"

"Betsuni," she whispered in response, laying back down.

"Hontou desu ka?" he asked, concern coloring his words.

"Hai." Aiko pulled the blanket up under her chin. "Gomen nasai"

"Kamaimasen," Hideo said softly. "Gussuri oyasumi."

She nodded, but sleep didn't claim her until long after she heard the quiet snores from his side of the small room; and even then she struggled to remember what it was about the dream that had awakened her earlier.

******​

The next morning, Aiko had barely finished her tea when Hagesawa Hideo informed her that they would be going to the sento, the public bath house. Though she had found ways to wash, nothing she did would take the place of a proper bath and she found herself quite eager at the prospect.

"After we work," Hideo informed her, almost saddened by the look of dejection that came across the young girl's face. "Besides," he added. "I have another surprise for you before we go there."

The surprise, it turned out, was new clothes. She had worn the same ones, changing into borrowed when she washed her own, for the entire time she had been in Norimoko Park. Fancy or not, Aiko didn't care. "It will be ever so pleasant," she told Hideo, "just to be able to change."

When they returned from the garden that afternoon, a group of people from a local charity organization were handing out onigiri. "They come every Sunday," Hideo said. "One of the women... "

"Konnichiwa, Hagesawa-san!" a young woman greeted him. "You must be... "

"Aiko," she said, smiling shyly and accepting the hand she offered to shake.

"My name is Namiko Abe," the woman replied, using the more modern nomenclature. "It seems I have a package for you. Won't you come with me?"

Hideo nodded and Aiko followed, albeit a bit nervously. She had kept to herself since Hideo had brought her to the tent village, rarely, if ever speaking to anyone besides him. Sometimes she wished she could remember more of where she came from - even what her own name was. She skipped to catch up with Namiko who was striding quickly toward a van. "These things are from Shinsaibashi's American Mura," she said over her shoulder. "They were donated, so they aren't the latest style, but I think you'll like the outfit I chose at any rate."

Aiko smiled to herself. She had no idea what Shinsaibashi's American Mura was. As for whether the clothing was the latest style or not... she looked around. "All that matters is that they are clean, ne?"

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Nonplussed by the young woman's remark, Namiko busied herself a bit more than was needed to retrieve the parcels she had brought for Aiko. "You're right, of course," she replied at last. "I'm... "

"Oh, don't be sorry," Aiko chirrupped and shrugged. "This life isn't as bad as you might think." Especially, she considered, when you had no memory of any other. "Is that all for me??"

Namiko's smile was genuine when she nodded. "The outfit that I promised is in this," she said, offering a bulging canvas bag. "This other is just... " Aiko smiled as the not much older woman pointed toward a bright red backpack that she had just emptied of a couple of textbooks and a looseleaf binder. "I've left a couple of Biro's in," she said, her turn to shrug, "and a brand new composition book in case... "

Aiko nodded absent-mindedly, her attention already on the contents of the first gift. She laughed with delight, her fingers smoothing over the smooth, soft cotton of several pairs of panties, two stretchy camis and four pairs of white socks. Her almond eyes filled with grateful tears as she continued to take things out. Two overlarge tee shirts that would be heaven to sleep in, a pair of bright red sneakers that she held up to the bottom of one bare foot that she had quickly slipped out of a zori to size up, and she had still not reached the... Aiko's eyes widened as she took the last two pieces of clothing from the plain canvas bag which had become, at least to her, a bottomless treasure trove.

The penultimate item was a blouse, much like she'd seen shop-girls and others wear when she and Haido had wandered the streets in search of newspapers, bottles and cans. The last was a skirt. Rather longish, Aiko noted, but in her mind's eye quite fancy. Too fancy for the life she lived. Then again... She looked at Namiko and smiled shyly. "Doumo arigatou gozai-masu."

"I wish that there was more," Namiko demured, then brightened. "Oh, wait!" Turning around, she grabbed a small paper bag and held it out to Aiko. "I almost forgot... "

Aiko blushed as she looked inside. A hair brush, a toothbrush along with powdered dentifrice and a tiny mirror. Glancing up at the sky, she murmured the words again - "Doumo arigatou gozai-masu." - though she wasn't quite sure why. It had been Namiko Abe who had given her these things after all. She and no one other.

The awkwardness of receiving such wonderful gifts and having nothing to offer in return passed quickly as Namiko Abe hugged the hapless girl and hurried into her car with the excuse that she had "other stops to make" but assuring Aiko that they would see each other again. By the time she drove away, Aiko had turned and was walking back to where Hideo was waiting for her.

"What did she give you?" he blurted out, his curiosity having gotten the better of him. "Hontou-ni gomen nasai. I am rude."

Aiko smiled softly at her benefactor. "Goshinpai-naku. Can we go to the sento? I will show you after... "

******​

Hasegawa Hideo held the noren aside, letting Aiko enter the sento first though he led the way to the bandai and the attendant who sat there to take the fee and, from his perch, watch all the goings-on on both sides of the bath house.

Aiko, who had transferred her new clothing to the backpack, fidgeted impatiently as Hideo handed over what amounted to nearly a day's earnings without a shred of regret. This was how things were, both of them knew... though things always had a chance of getting better at any turn.

Smiling shyly at the older man, she removed her zori and made her way into the woman's dressing room where she looked around, glancing briefly at the advertisements plastered on the walls. There weren't many here which relieved her nervousness at leaving her new belongings behind in a locker while she undressed and, sliding the shoji aside, stepped into the steamy hot room that held the baths, her precious bar of soap clutched tightly in one hand.

Washing her hair until it squeaked and scrubbing coffee cream colored skin until it was rosy red, Aiko rinsed and walked over to the bath where she stepped down and away from the stair before allowing herself the luxury of a soak.

As she gazed dreamily at the mural of Mt. Fuji, Aiko began to drift into a peaceful reverie. In it, she was running in a cloudy, surreal place that had no place in her reality. Suddenly afraid that she would not be able to leave, she startled up and climbed out of the water to dry off and get dressed.

Aiko knew that she would not wear the new skirt and blouse again any time soon, but this once... Just this once, she thought... would do no one any harm.

Taking extra care with her hair, now that she owned a brush, she worked out some of the tangles and gathered the long dark-brown, nearly black, tresses into a loose ponytail using a thread she'd unravelled from the bottom hem of the trousers she had just removed. Brushing her teeth was yet another luxury and her mouth felt wonderfully minty and fresh when she finished. Aiko grinned broadly into the small mirror that Namiko had given her.

"Well," she said to herself at last, once she was fully dressed. Stepping out of the dressing room, Aiko wriggled her sock-covered toes and slid them into her red sneakers; which had, she was pleased to note, had been a surprisingly good match in size. "Here goes nothing," she murmured, retrieving her zoris and was placing them in her backpack just as Hideo stepped out of the men's side.

"Aieeee!" he exclaimed. "Do I know you?"

Aiko turned around slowly to display her new apparel. "Perhaps, kind sir. Perhaps you do."

 

[Steiner]

Mister Dawn

The new day dawned, and so did he.

At first he tried the old ways, the familiar ways, but they weren't satisfying anymore. It felt colourless and drab, going through the motions for the sake of it, and his heart wasn't in it anymore.

He wondered. How much good was he really doing in this life he'd chosen for himself? Most of the homeless he helped were so wretched that whilst they thanked him for his kindnesses, another tragedy waited to beat them off their feet again - and he couldn't be there for them all the time, that wasn't the way it worked.

He passed by the Starbucks, knowing that the Barrista's were by now all talking to each other animatedly. He had something more on his mind today. Something greater. He wasn't going to simply follow his routine anymore. What help did he really give? What help could he possibly be providing?

Suddenly he realised what he was doing! Chastened he rushed back to the Starbucks and ordered his coffee from the puzzled staff. He explained, without them asking, that a dear friend of his had walked past the coffee house and he'd passed by to talk to that friend. Then come back. As usual.

The sharp peaks of curiosity flattened out into happy routine contentment. Mister Dawn tipped, wished them well and finished his coffee. He headed out to the homeless shelter community again, this time with some more vegetable seeds to deliver. The routine calmed him and, again, he was serene in his place and time. Even walking under the bridge from last night couldn't phaze him.

Having handed the seeds over, he turned away and left the site. An unknown desire was still churning at the core of his being and he was afraid to remain among his people until he knew what it was, what it meant.

The pressure, the tension grew greater and greater. He wandered, no longer seeing where he went, until he bumped into a middleaged housewife and knocked her from her feet. She looked pale and drawn, and he reached down to help her up, apologising profusely and repeatedly.

She seemed so pale and weak for her age that he looked harder at her, spotting the crystals of black where Metastising Cancerous growths were settling on her lungs, clustered around a network of tumours that were riddling the vital organs in her chest. She had only weeks to live, her husband would be distraught, her son would never attend college, his future crippled by grief and debt.

He reached out his hand, placing it on her shoulder. He looked her in the eyes and told her not to fear. Deeper than his hand, his senses and forces worked their way into the woman and made a change to her - cellularly and genetically. She stared at him, amazed at this forward behaviour from a total stranger, and a foreigner no less, and then hurried away. As he watched her go, a number of the black crystals melted away and diffused. The rest would be gone by the end of the week.

He felt weak. He felt exhilirated. Exonerated. Justified. He'd made a real difference for once. Turning he spied a couple who had emerged from the bathhouse. An older man, poorly dressed and careworn. A younger woman, wearing blouse and skirt, her hair pulled back into a tail.

But it wasn't her age or dress that held his attention, it was the shocked look in her eyes. Quickly turning, Mister Dawn hurried away.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

At first Aiko thought the chill that ran through her was the result of stepping from the steamy heat of the sento into the cooler, fresher air outside. She paused, trying to acclimatize herself but there was something. She clutched her stomach. Something else. Something... more. But what?? It wasn't just a chill. It felt like something... hot... was moving throughout her body. Something...

Aiko looked around, her eyes drawn toward a tall, blond gaijin standing across the street, and a woman who was quickly walking away from him. She had seen him before - at the garden. She blinked her eyes when his met hers ever so briefly just before he rushed off. There was something she should remember, Aiko realized. But what?

"Doushita no?"

Lost in thought, she startled when Hideo placed his hand gently on her arm. Smiling, she shook her head. "Betsuni," she said, quickly reassuring him. "Nothing. Just a chill."

Hasegawa Hideo nodded, though he said nothing more about the pallor of her skin or its clammy feel. He would simply watch her carefully for signs that Aiko might slip back into the sickness that had been upon her when he found her.

Feeling slightly steadier, Aiko smiled again and moved toward the street to cross, pointing in the direction of the gaijin's rapidly disappearing back. "Hideo? Who is... "

"That?" he glanced down the street in the direction Aiko had indicated, but saw no one and shrugged. "A nice cup of tea," he said, in a voice that brooked no argument as he hurried to catch up, narrowly avoiding several bicycles as they did so. "Yes. We can both use a nice cup of tea."