vanillabean

This is the second half of Sea Change. I posted the first half a couple of days ago.



Meris sat on the train, nervously folding and unfolding the printed email with instructions for getting to the town of Isawa. From her reading about the Yamanashi region before leaving Wellington she had only gleaned that it was a landlocked mountainous area to the west of Tokyo where the major industry was fruit growing. The description had conjured images of vast green stretches of rice paddies bordered with ancient wooden houses; old women, demure and straight-backed, in kimono. Out of the train window, the mid summer sky was so hazy with smog that she could not see anything of the horizon.

Finally the train pulled up to a station named Isawa-cho and Meris scrambled up, hoisted her battered back pack and headed for the door. She was aware of several passengers looking at her from the corners of their eyes. As she descended to the platform out of the air-conditioned train, the heat pressed against her damp and hot. She couldn’t believe that everyone else on the platform seemed to be wearing trousers and sleeves.

Her chest kicked as she saw Brendan making his way towards her, a pale bulky figure in a crowd of compact bodies and ink-black hair. A young Japanese woman in a white t-shirt and beige trousers walked alongside him. As he reached her, Meris dropped her backpack to the ground and embraced him. When she stepped away she saw the woman had her eyes averted from them. Brendan slung one arm around Meris and picked up the backpack with his spare hand.
“Meris, this is Akiko. She’s Shane’s wife.”
Akiko did a swift, shallow bow then spoke with a strong American accent. “Pleased to meet you Me-ri-su- san.” Her black hair had streaks of dark brown.

As Akiko drove, Meris stared at the alien landscape from the passenger seat. There were no trees and no grass, just block after block of apartments in uniform colours of beige and grey.
“Shane’s set me up in an apartment for a couple of months. One of the teachers from his school has gone away for the summer.” Brendon said.
Meris nodded. They crossed a bridge and she saw that the river bed had been entirely covered in concrete.
“Merisu-san. Would you like to teach a class at Isawa English Plus? We are looking for new teachers.” Akiko deftly manoeuvred the gear stick as she spoke.
“Ah. I don’t think I’ll be here long enough.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
Meris saw the small truck halted across from them at the intersection had the English words Flesh Meat written on the side.

They had to climb three flights of stairs to get to the apartment. Inside, it was the roughly same size as the bedroom in Meris’ Wellington flat. The belongings of the absent owner were strewn messily around and it was the same oven-hot temperature as the air outside. Brendan was already in action, throwing water on his face, changing his t-shirt, kissing her on the check and picking up his backpack.

“Sorry. I’ve got to run. I’m interviewing some of the gaijin girls who work at the local hostess bar. I’ll take you out for dinner when I get back. Bye.” The hollow metal door of the apartment clanged behind him. A minute or two later she heard the sound of a moped going up the road. Looking around, Meris saw the apartment had no chairs, so she sat on the floor and sat clutching her knees with her hands.

At dinner Brendan was animated. He talked of his writing, the people he’d met, the articles he had sold already. He ordered weird dishes from the picture menu and grinned as they arrived one by one on oblong plates. She watched him, holding his chopsticks with concentration and diving into each new dish with gusto.

That night they slept together on the absent English teacher’s futon. In the morning she woke to find his side of the mattress empty except for a note.


Meris rode the English teacher’s clunky Japanese bicycle through the thick afternoon heat, the back of her t-shirt drenched through with sweat. In the bicycle basket were the trophies of her journey, deodorant and beer purchased from a convenience store. Although she had been in Isawa for three days this was the first time she had ventured out by herself. On the way back to the apartment, she passed through narrow winding streets where houses were dotted between the apartment blocks but still saw no grass in the yards or gardens. She had always thought that grass was universal.

She rounded a corner expecting to see the now familiar apartment block and found herself in a strange street. Lost, she thought, I’m lost. Panic gripped her. She cycled for an indeterminate time in endless circles finding bridges, convenience stores, graveyards and bookstores but nothing to indicate she was in the streets near the apartment.

While stopped at a low bridge to try and get her bearings, she inadvertently glanced into the culvert that ran beneath. Creatures that looked like huge swollen goldfish, were labouring through the shallow flow of water, the top half of their bodies exposed to the air.


Meris was sitting by the electric fan drinking a beer when Brendan and Shane entered the apartment. Brendan’s cellphone rang and he stepped back into the stairwell to talk.

“Hey. Have you been here all day?” Shane lounged against the bench of the kitchenette.


Meris sat at the crowded table, feeling alone. She had been introduced to everyone at the beginning of the evening but most of the names and faces had blurred together and she only remembered that they were all friends of Shane and Akiko. It was nearing midnight and the table was littered with empty dishes and spent beer bottles. At some point, the conversations around Meris had morphed from English into Japanese and she was marooned with her handful of words and phrases.

Brendan, was at the far end of the table in deep conversation with a striking woman wearing a slinky dress. Her name was Sayuri; Meris had met her two days ago at Shane’s place. At the time, Sayuri had been giving out her new business cards with Takeda Sayuri, Shinto Priestess printed in English on one side. Meris had pictured Sayuri at a temple dressed in white robes, her hair flowing free, giving blessings to a line of worshippers with bent heads. Now, through the miasma of alcohol, Meris saw Brendan’s were eyes shining brightly as he talked to Sayuri.

“Merisu-san”. A voice broke her reverie. “Do you miss your country?” Akiko smiled kindly.
To her surprise, Meris felt tears well in her eyes. “Yeah. I miss the sea. I miss being in the sea.”
“Ohh. Yamanashi is far from the sea.” Akiko picked up a beer bottle and added a few drops to Meris’ almost full glass. “Will you also visit Burendon-chan, in Bangkok?”
“What?”
“Ah” Akiko’s smile dimmed. “After Yamanashi, Burendon-chan will go to Bangkok to work with the, I forget the word, ah, street kid.”
From the corner of her eye Meris saw Sayuri lean her head close to Brendan as she talked, so that her hair fell partly across his face. Brendan did not pull away but continued to listen to Sayuri intently.
“I didn’t know” said Meris and abruptly left the table, stumbling to the toilets. She sat in the cubicle for a long time, listening to the sound of her own breathing.

It was almost 2am, when the taxi dropped Meris and Brendan back at the apartment. They walked the stairs in silence, Brendan fumbled in the door with his key then they were enclosed by the quiet night-time interior of the room.
“Brendan?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to Bangkok?”
He rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Well, it’s not definite yet but maybe.”
“What about me?” She swallowed. Her throat felt as if there were a golf-ball lodged inside.
“I will come back to Wellington. Some time. And when I do, I’d still like to see you.”
“But” she fought to stop her voice from quavering. “I’ve been here with you for over a week and I haven’t seen you. Not like I thought I would.”
His smile was dim and tired. “I know I get caught up stuff but there’s so much out there, to see, to do.” His smile lit up for a moment, then faded again. “I don’t want to be the guy who works fifty two weeks a year at a desk job he can’t stand. I like the way I live.”


She dreamed she was on a beach, running to the lip of the shore, ripping off her shoes and standing with her heels pressed into the damp sand. She peeled off her jeans and they fell half on sand, half in water. Then she is wading through the coolness and the bright sting of salt; her body is enveloped, submerged. Her right shoulder throbs. She is flying down through the water, air in her lungs like a dolphin’s, reaching deeper than ever before.

Meris woke with her heart beating fast. The wall clock read 6:38 am. Brendan was still slumbering beside her, a rumpled sheet thrown over him. She rose and crossed the room with three steps. Pulling back the window shade, she saw that at this time of day the sky was a clear shade of blue.
It did not take long to silently gather up her belongings. She scrawled a note for him.


The day was not yet hot and she had the route to the train station clear in her mind. Hoisting up her battered backpack, she quietly closed the door behind her.

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It is never too late to be who you could have been.

cacafire

I didn't read the first part, but the second part is just beautiful. Like a modern-day, mini Jane Eyre. Sort of. I feel kind of sad for Brendan, and feel a lump in my throat when Meris leaves him. But I understand Meris, that she doesn't want to live the rest of her life like this.

Sadly, life is a choice between what we want for ourselves, and what we want for others.

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Critique my pieces, and I'll gladly return the favor: Mita of the sky: II, Gloving_Country, Shared Qualms(check this one out!), Gloving country-II, , Capoeira, Father and Son, Silence Come, The Lad I Knew

mjk

just wonderful. i'm delighted by your prose. again, your description is excellent.

are you looking for thorough critiques on this, for spelling, grammar, structure and the like? if so, i'd be happy to go through these again for you.

besides that, this is just beautiful. thanks for posting it.

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"Words have no power to impress the mind with the exquisite horror of their reality." -Edgar Allan Poe
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Creative Scribblings - a collection of odds and ends

bobwriter

CC, take the time to find her first post of this series, it is worth the read.

This continues to impress me for style, tone, character development and pure joyful readability. Keep posting more, I can't wait for the book.....

vanillabean

Thanks. Any critiques on technical stuff would be welcome.

__________________
It is never too late to be who you could have been.