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Meiko #27
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Copyright 1993 Donald L. Conover
Registration No. TXu 585-582
All Rights Reserved
[email protected]
License is hereby granted for this manuscript to be ported to
other systems worldwide, provided no fees are charged and local
laws permit such transfer, but it may not be printed or performed
in whole or in part without the express written consent of the
author. If you wish to be added to the electronic subscription
list, please send me e-mail: [email protected].
MEIKO contains the erotic adventures of the first woman Prime
Minister of Japan. If you are underage or would be offended by
such material, please discontinue reading now.
Funeral
Meiko and Noriko crunched along a pebbled path at Meiji
Shrine, Tokyo's largest garden. A very fine mist of rain caused
them to produce their umbrellas. Noriko's was professional and
black; Meiko's massive with warm wooden spines and gargantuan
purple flowers. Within the confines of their little roofs, there
was a special intimacy--the quiet warmth of a mountain cabin's
flaming hearth, fighting the ravages of a blizzard.
The sage wore a simple blue kimono, suitable for housework,
while her shadow wore a trim, navy blue business suit, with a
white whale pin. Other visitors crunched past them in both
directions, the tempo of their steps revealing their proximity to
God. Meiko walked calmly, peacefully, oblivious to others and
the blare of an occasional horn from Harajuku, just beyond the
furthest reaches of the sacred garden.
"Your move to the United States must have meant a new
encounter with David," Noriko said, stating the obvious, though
this part of Meiko's story was shrouded in mystery and had never
been opened to the public.
"Yes, of course," Meiko replied, her customary wrinkles
losing the years as she recalled. "I didn't go out of my way to
find David. But our meeting was inevitable, especially since we
were both living in Washington, in the shadow of American
politics. Seiji and I had been operating in Washington for
nearly a year when it happened. The irony was that it was the
Admiral who brought us together once again."
"How did he play cupid from Hayama?" Noriko grinned,
imaging the old salt being mischievous.
"This time it was his spirit," Meiko replied. "He died. By
then he had lived with Aoki for nearly thirty years. One evening
she called me from Japan.
"'The Love of my life has died,' she said, sobbing into the
phone without introduction or preliminaries. 'His children
insist that his ashes be returned to the United States, to be
spread at the family farm. I need you Meiko-chan. Can you meet
me in Syracuse?'
"Of course, there was no question. Within twenty-four hours
I was with the dark presence in the Marriott at the airport, and
we began to raise the pall, talking about old times--the joys of
our lives. It was bittersweet for me because David came up
frequently in our reminiscences. The best part of the gloomy
week was the wedding."
"Wedding?" Noriko asked in confusion.
"Oh, funeral," Meiko corrected. "How foolish of me to make
such a slip."
"You have to be your age to appreciate funerals that much,"
Noriko goaded lightly, lifting the veil of sadness as they
walked.
"You still have much to learn, Noriko-chan," Meiko replied,
her eyes smiling a little at youth, but knowing she was being
manipulated.
"It was a day of rare sunshine in early spring," Meiko
continued. Patches of snow still made puddles of white on the
light green and brown grasses of the previous season. As we
drove down the long incline into town, the lake at its edge was
deep blue, like the mother of all life. In those days I drove,
so we made the quiet pilgrimage alone, just the two of us. We
had both been there before many times; me as a student living
with the Admiral's mother, and Aoki as his wife. Aoki had even
attended his mother's funeral, so she knew what to expect.
"We parked in the street near the white steepled church that
the family had attended for generations. For some reason I noted
the stately pine tree in front the church, shaped like an arrow
pointing toward heaven, its top nearly as high as the steeple.
I'm sure I had noticed it before, covered with Christmas lights
to mark the holiday, but this was the first time I ever noticed
it without lights.
"We were greeted in the austere foyer by two ushers in
Presbyterian suits, and a woman in a Presbyterian dress. They
smiled warmly in welcome and greeting."
"Why do you say 'Presbyterian?'" Noriko asked.
"Somehow it's the only way I know to describe the plain
elegance of the place. The Calvinist tradition among Christians
is plain and simple ... and strong ... like the Admiral in a way.
I guess that's why it came to mind. Because the funeral was like
him in many ways.
"We were guided to the front pew," Meiko continued, "where
the Admiral's daughter, Penelope, and his son, Christian, greeted
us both with tender smiles and hugs. 'I love you,' he said to
Aoki. 'Thank you for coming,' to me. We both knew Christian
very well, of course. He had been Aoki's step son for thirty
years, by then, and he was my mentor during my college years.
But that's a different story. There in the church, waiting for
the service to begin, he was a tall rugged reminder of what his
father had been, and that was somehow reassuring.
"The service was like any other I suppose. There were many
tears. For a moment, near the end, a shadow walked up my spine.
The Admiral had been cremated in Japan, so there was no casket,
but another Admiral in a dress white uniform came forward with
the triangularly folded American flag. He bowed slightly to
Aoki, then stepped in front of Penelope and handed it to her
saying, 'I give you this flag on behalf of the President of the
United States and a grateful nation.'
For a moment I was stunned. I thought somehow that Aoki had
been snubbed; by the United States, by Penelope and Christian; I
didn't know what or who, but a rush of heat filled my body. I
looked at her with a question, but she just squeezed my hand and
smiled. Then came my surprise. As the ceremonial Admiral
marched to the center aisle, a second figure in white and gold
braid passed him, made a smart turn to the left and stopped in
front of Aoki. He was an Admiral of the Japanese Self Defense
Force, and he carried the Japanese flag. He bowed very low,
offering Aoki the flag and saying, 'I give you this flag on
behalf of the Emperor and people of Japan, whose peace and
prosperity he guarded.' My tears overflowed. The combined
emotions of pride, and shame at what I had thought, streamed down
my face like an open faucet. Just one tear dripped down Aoki's
cheek as she gripped my hand under the red and white cloth.
"The congregation stood and sang the 'Navy Hymn,' 'Eternal
Father Strong to Save.' I had heard it many times before, of
course, but its quiet majesty racked my body with sobs on that
day.
"Somehow, it still seems to have been a slight that the
American flag was not given to Aoki," Noriko said.
"Oh, she told me later that she and Christian had agreed to
that part of the ceremony," Meiko replied. "Christian's point
was that his father had performed all of his Navy service before
his marriage to Aoki, but most of his service to Japan was after
their marriage."
"That seems reasonable," Noriko said, unsure of the protocol
in such situations anyway.
"After the service, family and close friends returned to the
family farm," Meiko continued. "We family members gathered
quietly near the barn, and picked our way across the muddy
furrows to a grassy knoll, the highest point on the farm, where
wild raspberries grow in the summertime. There, after a short
prayer, Christian poured the Admiral's ashes into the wind.
They swirled, reflecting golden sunlight, then settled over the
grasses and reeds. Seven sailors from a local honor guard fired
three volleys into the air, while a trumpeter played 'Taps' with
a silver horn.
"I looked out at a cut between two stands of trees and had a
vision of Mt. Fuji rising there. Christian came over to Aoki and
handed her a small ornate vial. 'These are a portion of father's
ashes,' he said. 'Please spread them in Sagami Bay.' Aoki bowed
very low, overcome by emotion."
"What a beautiful ceremony," Noriko commented, tears running
down her own face as they continued their walk among the sacred
trees of Meiji Shrine. She allowed the moment to continue,
interrupted only by the crunches of pebbles beneath their feet.
Finally Meiko's demeanor changed, as she completed her quiet
homage to her father. "But we were talking about David, weren't
we?"
"Yes, Meiko-san," Noriko said politely, just above a
whisper.
"I should have known he would be there," Meiko said, her
eyes becoming distant again. "But I never noticed him until
after the ashes were spread on the knoll. When we turned to walk
back toward the house, there he was. Or perhaps I should say,
'There were his eyes.' Our eyes met as they had that first time
in Hayama, thirty years before. I had this sensation of my body
flip flopping down a long tunnel to his side, like a tumbling
clown at the circus. My stomach felt cavernous as I walked the
few steps toward him."
"Was he alone?" Noriko asked, as a surgeon makes an
incision at just the proper point to release the puss in a boil.
"Alone?" Meiko seemed startled, still lost between the
tunnel of David's gaze sixty years earlier in Hayama and thirty
years earlier at the Admiral's funeral. Finally the meaning of
Noriko's question crept into her consciousness like a rhesus
monkey about to pounce on some unsuspecting plaything. "Oh, you
mean Jessica," Meiko said.
"Yes, Jessica," Noriko acknowledged.
"Yes, Jessica was there," Meiko smiled at her naive
inquisitor. "And I liked her! That was the foolish thing. I
suppose I should have known that anyone David would pick for his
new wife would have a personality I would like. There was a
moment of enlightenment for me, like the 'Aha!' of understanding
one feels at the end of a brilliantly executed haiku. I suddenly
knew that David and I would be friends ... close friends ... for
life ... that Jessica knew about our times together ... and yet
could accept me as her friend too."
"She could?" Noriko asked, and air of skepticism in her
voice.
"Yes," Meiko responded firmly. "We no longer live in the
time of the Shogun's court, when concubines and wives would stab
one another and their offspring in the dark, Noriko-chan.
Perhaps this is a lesson you younger women still have to learn."
She smiled.
"I think we still have that one to learn," Noriko said,
remembering moments of intense jealousy when Akio mentioned any
other female name, even when it belonged to a girl of five, as it
had one day before she learned of his nieces.
Meiko's wrinkles crinkled. "But I still had it to learn
then too. Somehow, I instinctively knew that Jessica and I would
become close friends. Friends who would never dream of touching
one another's husbands. But I didn't know that consciously then.
As we exchanged business cards again, a hopelessly foolish custom
between lovers of such long standing, my mind churned with
schemes to get David alone."
"At the funeral?" Noriko asked with surprise.
"Oh, no! Of course not," Meiko replied. "No, I meant in
Washington. We were both living there then. David was a
consultant to the House of Representatives, and he and Jessica
were living on Capitol Hill. I had my own apartment on
Connecticut Avenue."
"'Shall we have lunch together next week?' He asked me. We
made the appointment. My heart was beating in a fury to make
such a date in front of Jessica, but she didn't seem to mind at
all. She knew something I didn't."
"What was that?"
"She knew how strong and tight their mutual love was. I
later understood it, but then my mind cranked out scenarios of me
riding off into the sunset with David."
"Tomorrow I will tell you what happened when we met for
lunch," Meiko said, making a conclusion of her revelations for
the day.
The two women were at the Harajuku entrance of Meiji Shrine,
near the top of Omote-Sando. A freshly washed yellow taxi opened
its door. They closed their umbrellas, stepped in, and whisked
away on the five minute drive to Meiko's house. Noriko excused
herself and stepped out at the Hachiko entrance to Shibuya
Station, saving the five hundred yen return trip after dropping
Meiko off in Nanpeidai.
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