Breakfast before lecture

Posts : 757

It took a while, but he had gotten the courage to ask to share a bed. Without hesitation Okoki openly obliged. She had an intense desire to spend quality time together. In order for the relationship to grow, they would need to start sharing intimate moments. Sleep was qualified as initiate. He only sought to rest beside them, nothing more. And though Mari had come to warm to the idea over time, but was secluded in her actions. At first she'd slept several inches away to demand her privacy. Whenever the expensive air conditioner whirred in the middle of the night, she pulled the comforter to her side. There was also the painfully obvious fact that she despised sleeping in the contraption around bosom. Shinjin was no heavy sleeper. One moment it was off, the next moment it was on when he'd gotten up to use the rest room. But to truly be close to her he could not push her. True intimacy lied in freedom.

Okoki loved sharing the same sleeping space. Most nights he held her and there were some nights she held him, but every night he always felt close to her. Talking became a lot easier, Okoki always lent an open ear. She also swore that she could tell when he'd spent too much time thinking about work, because he began to talk in his sleep. What Shinjin liked about Okoki was the intimacy without sexuality. He couldn’t count how many times he'd groped her on accident or she'd kneed him in the groin. Through it all they were able to laugh about it and enjoy each sore night or bruised morning. If only Mari would join them... she could share something special.

But Shinjin couldn't deny the fact that it was awkward. Sometimes he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes watching from the shadows. Ready to jump out and point fingers and accuse them of lewd acts. Shinjin was still young. He dreamed as a teenager would. He dreamed about their nakedness and being tugged and rubbed between them. And he dreamed about it more than once. But Shinjin didn't let dreams cloud reality. Maturity separated his desires from his actions. When Mari found out that he had been having such dreams -of course it was easy to notice while he was sleeping- she approached him. She still wanted to control him, with promise to abate his urges. Shinjin knew there would be a time for that type of play. And it would come with time. For now, he would not give into his carnal temptations. Or her desire to control him.

Reality often played on the human mind like a pianist. One naturally expected life to be harsh and unkind to a certain degree, just like mistakes made in a recital. There were also moments where life was transparently lucid. It was the simple song played by the youngest child that awed the listener. Passing up a chance to enjoy simplicity was not human. This morning Shinjin would forget about everything. His father, his clan, being an assassin of the state, and even being a ninja. Each one of those labels that bound him, that shaped him as a person were gone. He was free. And in his freedom he could enjoy the bliss of simply being alive. It was beautiful beyond understanding.

But something was wrong. He could not sense soft hair resting on his chest, or the warmth of Okoki's body next to him. The cold air had snuggled itself where she was supposed to be and stripped her away, leaving him needy. He tossed and turned to fight with the urge to wake but could not win. But there were other elements preventing him from returning to sleep. Mingling scents began to to tickle his nose. Meat crackled in hot pan and burst flavor in the air. The smell of homemade biscuits that followed were second to none. He looked to his right to see Mari wrapped in the silk sheets hugging reading material. Okoki was in the kitchen piling hot food on to plates. She could tell that he was up without turning her head to check.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

“Morning,” his voice was thick and muddy.

“We'll be eating soon. I hope you like it,” and she continued to tend to her masterpiece.

“Good morning Mari.”

Her words sighed.

“Morning, Shin.” she said, turning the page in her book without giving him a glance.

Shinjin sat up in the bed so that his back was against the imported feather pillows. He turned his head towards her and stared. She noticed that he was staring, but she seemed not care. The cover of the book implied some type of mystery novel by the bold red writing and chalk outline. Apparently Mari didn't dress up to look like a smart woman. She actually spent time reading to enjoy the liberty of leisure. Yet Shinjin was more concerned about the space between them. He wanted to create the closeness he had with Okoki with her. Even though she laid in his bed -technically Kyu rented the room- she was still a stranger to him. Shinjin knew how jealously had played a commanding role in her life. The last time they tried to talk the conversation was ugly. Shinjin crushed any reason for her to be jealous of him. Would she ever open up? There was no victory in fighting her about it. She would come along when she was ready. At least she was trying by simply sitting next to him.

Posts : 757

Okoki walked slowly as she carried a full bed tray. The rattling of porcelain plates rung around the room signaling the time to eat. His attention snapped entirely on her when she approached the bed, tuning everything else out of his mind. Shinjin eagerly awaited the surprise. Stacked bowls of food teemed with steam. She sat down next to him and placed the food in front of him and him alone. There were so many things that he saw, so many new things that he didn't recognize. One of the smaller bowls had a thick, white mixture of something that looked like it would be called 'chow.' The biscuits were entirely different from what he was used to. Each one was golden brown and glazed with butter but white in the middle. He inspected one of them to find that the bottom was golden brown as well. For some reason they reminded of him of a gilded cloud shining in the sun. The meat she had prepared were thick cuts of bacon that were cooked in an unusual manner. Instead of being precooked or dried like most bacon was, she had fried raw strips. Fat had twisted and gripped the edges of the bacon as they lay across the plate in several different poses. Some bent to one side, some curling at the tips. Shinjin was familiar with eggs but these were scrambled into fine chunks, littered with salt pepper and something else. He pulled hunks of egg away from one another and felt resistance. Strings of cheese glued them together, and as he tried to cut it, they only followed the fork around the plate until the tendrils popped. Syrup and orange juice embellished lastly along with some pepper and salt for personal taste. Everything was so new and inviting, he hadn't a clue where to start.

“It's a breakfast my parents made and the reason why they were able to become so rich,” she grabbed the fork from his hand and spooned the white chow in his mouth. There was the initial taste of cream, but what he noticed most was the intense thickness and heat. He didn't know if he should be chewing or not. All he could taste was a blend of savory, salted cream. It was good.

“These are called grits. It's like a breakfast porridge.” she was exited to lead him through her work of art.

Mari had suddenly closed her book and drew closer to the meal and reached over him without warning. With his mind enjoying the taste of grit -or grits, he didn't know the correct term- he could only watch as she pulled one of the biscuits away from the plate. Shinjin wanted those next. Before Mari could taste them he had to try them first. To his surprise she split the biscuit with her fingers like a chocolate bar. The inside of the bread was still dancing with heat, but there was more to it. Instead of just plain cooked bread, these biscuits came apart in layers. What was this? Shinjin had never seen a biscuit come apart this way. Mari handed him a leaflet of bread as if he were homeless and he ate it without question. There was no chance to chew on it or grind it with his teeth. It instantly melted in his mouth.

“Those are my mothers famous flaky biscuits. I added buttermilk to them to make 'em taste better,” she boasted. Okoki then grabbed one and twisted the bottom half clockwise and the top half counter-clockwise. The inside of the biscuit tore apart in several individual flakes of soft bread. She placed the open end on the plate for him to come back to after trying other things.

“This is the right way to split them,” she corrected Mari's style of separating it down the middle, top to bottom.

Shinjin just simply nodded, along for the ride. He took the top half of the piece and ate with vigor. Then he ate the bottom piece with just as much fervor. Okoki laughed as if he were some puppy tripping over its own legs. Mari whisked her piece of the biscuit in syrup and bit down on it as if it were a secret. Some combination of flavor that he couldn't know about. He wanted to try. Shinjin picked up one of the biscuits and twisted it like Okoki had shown him. Instead of dipping it in the syrup like Mari had done, he simply plopped it down in the bowl so that the entire bottom would be coated in the sticky sweetness.

“Oh my god, what are you doing? You don't eat it like that!” she protested.

Shinjin didn't care. He pulled the biscuit up and ate it, dragging tendrils of syrup all across the plate, tray, on to the sheets and even his chest. Shinjin would eat it how he wanted to.

“Look at this mess you made! You eat like-”

He spoke with a mouthful of syrup and chewed bread. “Like what, a fifteen year old?”

And for the first time ever, all of them shared a genuine laugh. A laugh that pulled at their sides and the muscles in their face and their hearts all together.

Breakfast had been exciting, fresh and heart-warming. Shinjin held the bacon hostage and refused to give the crisp meat to either of them. Mari and Okoki managed to wrestle the last of the scrambled eggs and grits from him after he'd hogged everything else. It would've been nice to drink the orange juice that she had hand-squeezed but that was too much to ask from Shinjin. In addition to spilling syrup all over the bed, he spilled the juice in a tussle over the last biscuit. He had never seen Okoki so upset at all the mess. The silk sheets had been ruined, there was no way to wash the stains out and the comforter would require hours of hand washing to properly clean. Shinjin could only sit there stewing in his own filth while she gave him an earful about how he played around too much. There was also a bit about how his next meal would be given to him in a high chair if he couldn't get his act together. And as expected Mari didn't come to his rescue when she slapped him upside his head.

Posts : 757

Today held bigger plans than the triads play at breakfast. Before leaving the country, Shinran had asked his son to give a lecture to his personal congregation. He would be the youngest to touch the wood of the podium. As the preachers son, greatness was expected. Just thinking about standing in front of a crowd made him nervous. He was too little to fill his fathers large shoes and he'd feared he would make a mockery of himself and his family. There was no shame in telling him that either. Shinjin felt it smart to do so. How many hours had he devoted to Heiwa? None. How much time did he spend searching for the spirit of Heiwa within his own soul? Maybe a few hours. Had he spread the knowledge of Heiwa to the people of the land? The brothers and sisters of humanity? The poor man? The rich man? Shinjin had not done any of this! But his father had insisted on him leading lecture. His voice rang out in his mind over and over again. “Heiwa does not question our existence or where we come from. It does not seek those answers. Heiwa is about the heart of the man or woman. The peace that you pass to one another. Before we can understand the Creator we must first understand ourselves. That is Heiwa. The peace of the spirit inside of you. Be at peace, my son.”

Shinjin walked timidly behind his wives, following them to congregation. Fear dwarfed his mind imaging impending failure. Thinking about wearing his fathers priest robes shook him. They were tailored for his father, which made the robes too big for him. Good, the priest robes won't fit so I can't do it. Nervousness had a vice-grip on his confidence. But Shinjin was not trying to free it. When they had arrived at the congregation hall, Mari quickly pulled Shinjin off to the side. She tossed him in an empty make up room and pulled out the robes. Okoki went to greet Shinran and the congregation. Shinjin tried to listen to the sound of the mass beyond the walls. He could hear that things were already underway. After sometime the crowd settled down and there was speaking. Slowly, a voice began resonating through the building. At first he couldn't make it out, but someone was definitely leading a song. Shinjin realized Okoki was singing. He didn't know she could sing so beautifully.

“No time to be awestruck. Put this on.” Mari commanded.

Shinjin didn't want to but did so. The point of Heiwa was peace, that's what the word meant. In Heiwa there were very few rules. There wasn't even a formal dress. In fact, monks clothing was worn to remind the followers of Heiwa that spiritual peace was a form of training. Treating the mind and body equally. Wearing comfortable clothes and fancy accessories was not allowed. To comfort the body weakened the spirit. So when he twirled and stretched his body so Mari could fit him he did so in silence. He remembered the moment he'd accepted these responsibilities. Shinjin was so many things all at once. A ninja, a spiritual leader, a King... Maybe he was not ready for it all.

Mari pulled at the uneven sides of the robes to tuck them in place. The level of preparation required for this, the thought of doing this regularly for the rest of his life was daunting. For some reason he could hear jeers and insults in the back of his mind. Calling him out of his name, saying he wasn't a ninja. Telling him that he was just a touchy-feely little boy. A spoiled little brat. We don't need you. Truth lay out before him. With everything he was going through now and all he'd gone accomplished in the past year or so, he questioned where life was pushing him. Did he have to be a King? Did he need to be a spiritual leader? A congregation required leadership. Could he fill that void? Shinjin truly didn't know the answer to that question. His confidence lied there in a vice grip, and still he did not reach to free it. He shuffled to face them with gloom in each step.

The congregation held hundreds of people. Bumbling noises of conversation began to recede when Shinjin walked forth. All attention was now on him, everyone readying themselves for the message. His father smiled at him from the crowd. He looked around for Mari behind him but she was already sitting. Every second drew on like hours. The podium was wistfully lonely and it called his name. The lavish robes about him, the cold beneath soles, it all went still when he took the stand.

“I'm nervous.”

Gulping fear down into his belly helped settle the butterflies.

“But my father has asked me to come before you all and speak.”

Go. GO! Just speak from the heart! Ignore everything else! Shinjin listened to that voice and it released his confidence in droves.

Posts : 757

“Let us examine first why you have come here before me, to hear my word of Heiwa and to hear my lecture. Ask yourself that. You must ponder this thought, and seek the answer for it. For if I were a simple man, the answer would be to hear the word of Heiwa. But is that what you are thinking? If it is, then I must ask you to remove yourself now.”

He saw his fathers face grow uncertainty.

“We must live Heiwa everyday. To understand peace everyday is to understand Heiwa. You must wake up in peace and go to sleep in peace. When you are working, toiling over soil and shepherding the animals... you must be at peace. Heiwa means peace, is peace... You cannot sit and wait for lecture or feel peace when you see your brother or sister in congregation. It must always be with you. Answer me this... Heiwa would have us remove our shoes and wash our feet before entering the hall. Why is that?” he asked, building a conversation with his audience.

“To be clean, it is makes us pure,” someone spoke loud enough to be heard over the mumbling.

“But is that the real answer? Why just 'clean and pure?' Are we saying the homeless cannot find peace? If you are traveling and teaching Heiwa on your journey, now you must skip the homeless. They are not clean so they cannot find peace.” he didn't want to drum on the incorrect answer.

“We wear monks clothes to remind ourselves that the body needs to be trained. We also wear them because the spirit needs to be trained as well. When you put your shoes away you are shedding the world that tries to keep you from peace. Taking off the name of farmer, or waitress or clerk. It reminds us to humble our spirit. You must remember to be humble and to never think yourself higher than another just because they may not have possessions.” Shinjin sipped water from a glass.

“The most beautiful thing about our belief lies in simplicity. We do not follow rigid scripture or overbearing commandments. There is no need to scare or bring about fear. We choose to believe in each other and we find peace in doing so. But I know there are some who want to hear of the Creator. To know the story about the history of humanity and its upbringing. To establish that connection with the past, like grandmother to granddaughter. Even if the Creator were to posses my spirit and speak through me right now my words would not change. Do not divide yourself with labels. Think not, 'my Creator is true, my Creator is divine, my Creator is correct.' If we insist that the world was fashioned by the Creator, how can we spread peace if we define our version of peace as true peace? The Creator already knows us, so what do we stand to gain by question? Look beyond the reason to exist and simply enjoy existing.”

Affirmation swarmed across the congregation.

“I don't know much about my fathers lectures but I am not long winded.” There was immediate laughter. “But I leave you with this. When you leave and fasten your buckles to prepare yourself for the world, do not think that you are enlightened. An evil thought will whisper into your ear if this happens. It will straddle your heart and tell you how unique you are. How special you are. It is a darkness so great you will not notice you are blind. We do so much work and forget who we really are in the process of it. Achieve your goals and live your dreams. Hold to hope and pray. Live, learn, fall, break bones, love and be human... But always be at peace, my brothers and sisters.”

The applause was so loud and long, Shinjin felt unworthy. He looked into his fathers eyes, into Okoki's and Mari's and saw they were proud of him. When he stepped off the podium the applause declined and the crowd disbursed into family groups or bundles of friends. Everyone shared hugs and smiles and praises. Shinjin's modesty eluded the glory given to him at every turn. He knew that he spoke from his heart and thus lacked the ability to revel in it. Shinran shed silent tears in a long embrace, holding his boy close. He held his head with both hand, kissed him on the forehead, and then someone lent a shoulder to escort him home. Just like that he was leaving again.

“It's time we start heading back home.” Okoki said.

Shinjin stood stiffly watching his father leave. Forever.

“Yes... home.”

[EXIT]