My thoughts are scattered
Like pebbles on a beach. They
Are beyond counting
Had Tengen responded differently, I would have come to my senses. Would have realized that I was behaving not like the adult I thought myself to be, but more like a spoiled brat who whines for something that is beyond her reach. I would probably have decided I had placed too much weight on the incident. That his touch had been entirely accidental and that he was embarrassed by it—as I should be.
But Tengen betrayed himself, and my doubts fell away instantly.
He stood—with none of the grace that usually made watching him a pleasure—and fixed his gaze into the corner of the room as if he had discovered a cobweb there and was too polite to mention it. He spoke to the same cobweb, his voice wooden.
“I think that is enough massage for today, Mi-san. I do not wish you to suffer cramps again. Instead, I will show you some simple stretching exercises that will help loosen your muscles and should help prevent your leg from going into spasms at night.”
He glanced at my futon as he spoke and instantly twitched his eyes to one side. I saw his obvious embarrassment. Clearly, Tengen the monk had shouldered aside Tengen the man.
For a moment, at least.
Tengen had never hesitated to offer his arm to help me to my feet before. Today, he did not. I smiled timidly, keeping my eyes lowered.
“Perhaps you would be kind enough to pass me my crutch, Brother Tengen?”
He moved with such alacrity, I knew he was relieved he would not have to touch me.
I used my crutch and the flat of my right hand to lever myself to my feet. I had long since mastered the art of getting up in this way by myself. Today, I took care to make it seem difficult. When I finally stood, I leaned heavily on the crutch, my left leg thrusting through my kimono. I made no attempt to hide it.
“Are you comfortable, Mi-san? It is important that you have your balance before we begin,” Tengen said shakily. His gaze was no longer on the ceiling. It was drawn to my leg as if by a powerful magnet.
“I think I’ll manage,” I said cautiously.
“You will not fall. I promise you.”
I concentrated on every syllable of the short sentence, wondering if I was reading too much into his words. I waited for him to add, I will not allow you to fall, but I was disappointed.
“Take a deep breath. So deep you can feel your belly rise with air. Let it out. Breath in again. No, deeper than that.”
I was confused. This was not at all what I had expected. What I wanted. I tried for a little sympathy.
“May we begin the exercises? My leg is beginning to ache standing still,” I pleaded.
“Not yet. First, you must see. Close your eyes.”
I bit back my disappointment. As the proverb says, The mouth is the source of disaster. Clearly, Tengen the monk was back in charge. But what nonsense was this? Close my eyes so I could see? Bewilderment was added to my frustration.
“I don’t understand, Brother Tengen,” I protested. “See what, exactly? And how can I see if my eyes are closed?”
“You must see within yourself,” he said earnestly. “If your mind can see you reaching your goal, then you will succeed.”
Oddly, his words recalled the occasion when my elder brother had toyed briefly with Confucian philosophy, but such an improbable deviation from his usual behavior did not last long. I found out later from Anzu that he had been deeply smitten by a beautiful and very intelligent oiran. This woman had amused herself by telling my brother that she was a devotee of Confucius, and he had believed her. He had been so deeply in lust with her that he had begun to study the discipline before he realized that she was teasing him purely for her own amusement. Perhaps this was something to do with the great philosopher?
Not wanting to seem foolish, I pushed my distress with the change in Tengen’s mood aside and asked hesitantly, “Is it something to do with Confucius?”
“Not at all.”
I was crushed. I had hoped to sound extremely knowledgeable.
“Adherents of Lord Buddha have used the power of the mind to help guide people to better health for many hundreds of years.”
This made no sense to me, so I replied abruptly, wondering what game he was playing now.
“So, if I think my leg is straight, then it will be so?”
“No.” Tengen must have seen the confusion in my expression as he went on quickly, leaning toward me in his desire to explain. I swayed instinctively toward him in return, not even aware that Tengen had jerked away. I went rigid with disappointment and embarrassment. “I understand that this is a difficult concept for you to grasp. But please, do not dismiss it until I have guided you further.”
“I will try.”
“Now, close your eyes.”
Even though I was supported by my crutch, without my sight, I felt unbalanced. I swayed slightly, and instantly Tengen was by my side, his hand beneath my elbow.
I could feel his body heat through his thin robe and became excited again. Inconsequentially, I wondered why he didn’t freeze to death in winter? Was that also something to do with his mind taking control of his body fully, instructing it to obey in ways I would not have thought possible?
I was surprised to find I was becoming interested in what he was saying. Not just because Tengen felt this strange sort of meditation would help my leg, but also because the idea that I could control my own body appealed to me. I was so fascinated that I leaned against him without thinking. I was recalled quickly to reality when I felt him stiffen. I knew he wanted to break the contact but could not bring himself to do so in case I fell.
“Take a deep breath, Mi-san.” His impersonal teacher’s voice again. I did as he instructed and felt the breath fill my lungs. “Let it go. And another.”
This was quite pleasant. The deep breathing seemed to be relaxing me. Would it, I wonder, help me sleep on those nights when thoughts crowded my head and would give me no rest?
“Should I carry on?”
“No, breathe normally. Listen to me, Mi-san. When do you feel happiest? Most comfortable?”
The deep breaths had relaxed me more than I realized. What would have seemed an irrelevant question moments ago now sounded perfectly reasonable.
“On my futon. Sometimes, I wake in the night and for a while I forget about my leg. I even begin to make plans for the next day. At least until I remember I am a cripple and there is so very little I can do.”
I was astounded. I had never thought that about myself. And if I had, I would never have shared it with anyone else. It was too personal, too painful.
“And what if you did not remember that you are crippled? How happy would you be if you continued making those plans and were able to do exactly as you wanted?”
What nonsense was this? As soon as I tried to move, my leg reminded me that happiness was no longer an option for me.
“But I am a cripple,” I said. I tried to keep the resentment out of my voice and failed.
“If you are a cripple in your own mind, then your body will continue to fail you.”
Tengen’s voice seemed strange. Perhaps because I had my eyes closed, I heard more clearly than I could have when I could see clearly. His voice was trembling. The hand that cupped my elbow gripped tighter.
“Teach me not to fail,” I whispered.
“I will not fail you.”
His words were so close to what I had longed to hear moments ago that I was thrown off balance. My thoughts flew wildly, out of my control. I had never been so unsure of myself and cursed silently, certain that every time Tengen looked at me he saw nothing but a needy, clingy child.
I was relieved when he spoke quietly but firmly. Clearly he had not noticed my distress.
“In your mind, see yourself lying on your futon.” I made an involuntary gesture toward it. On days when Tengen was not expected, the maid rolled up the futon and took it away. Because I needed to lie down for my massage, today it was still in place.
“No, I am not asking you to lie down. In your mind, see yourself lying on it. You are very comfortable, the kakebuton lying lightly on your body. Can you imagine that?”
That was surprisingly easy. I wriggled slightly, easing out an imagined crease in the futon.
“And now?” It was an effort to speak. I was so comfortable, I really wanted to drift off to sleep.
“See yourself stretching your body. Do it bit by bit. Start with your neck, and then your back. Make sure your hips are perfectly comfortable.”
As he spoke, my body obeyed his words. Part of me was aware that I was still standing, supported by Tengen’s hand and my crutch. But it seemed as if reality was the illusion, and that I really was reclining comfortably on my futon.
“Does that feel pleasant?”
“Very,” I murmured.
“Good. Now stretch your legs. Both of them at the same time.”
Tengen’s voice had fallen to a whisper. It was so soothing, I obeyed him without thinking, arching my back and pushing my legs forward. I barely felt him step away from me. Hardly felt him tugging my crutch away from me.
For a moment, I was filled with content.
And then my left leg buckled and I fell to the tatami with a thud that jolted my teeth.
Humiliation filled every crevice of my body. I wanted nothing more than to curl myself into a ball, to hide from the world. Tengen had done this to me. He and his talk of needing to see myself whole and healthy. He had made a fool of me. In my distress, I was sure he had done it on purpose as some sort of revenge for his shame at touching me inappropriately.
I hated him. Almost as much as I hated myself for being taken in by the nonsense this smug monk had spun me. By the false hope he had raised.
“Mi-san, are you hurt?”
There was no trace of sympathy in Tengen’s voice. He might have been asking if I thought we might have rain later. I was grateful for it. Had he sounded concerned, I would have broken and wept for the indignity of my position. But I was not grateful for anything else. I needed to be alone so I could weep with nobody to see me.
“I am not hurt,” I said through gritted teeth. “Go away. I’ll get myself to my feet.”
“I didn’t offer to help you,” Tengen said mildly. If anything, his words increased my pain. “If you can get up, we can continue the exercises.”
“Leave me alone. Go away and don’t come back. I’ve learned all I need to know from you, Brother Tengen.”
I might as well have saved my breath. Tengen did not move.
“No, I will not go. You are my responsibility. I will not leave you until I have done everything in my power to help you.”
His voice had changed. Brother Tengen the monk had never spoken to me like with such a note of tenderness. I quickly glanced at him. His face was expressionless. His arms were held loosely at his sides, and he appeared relaxed. Yet, I could feel that his body was almost vibrating with tension. He locked his gaze on my face, appearing to look straight into my eyes.
He lied.
I knew he was hiding something, in much the same way I always knew when Anzu was fibbing to me. She did just as Tengen was doing now. Instead of looking straight at me, she focused her gaze on a point just above the center of my eyebrows. It looked as if the person you were talking to was looking you straight in the eyes with perfect honesty, and it was a clever trick, but once deciphered it was an easy way of knowing when somebody was trying to either deceive you or was not telling the whole truth. In Tengen’s case, I guessed it was the latter. I didn’t care. I was ashamed of my weakness and wanted nobody else to see it.
“Leave me alone,” I repeated. “I’ll get up when I’m ready and not before. I don’t need your help. If I hadn’t relied on you in the first place I wouldn’t be lying here. And you are not responsible for me, I assure you.”
Tengen ignored me. He held his hand out silently. I counted my heartbeats to twenty and then took his hand. I sensed his surprise that I appeared to have given in so easily.
His grasp was very strong. When he tried to pull me up, I refused to help him in any way. Physically, I could not match this man’s strength, but there had been many mornings when Anzu had tried to make me get up when all I wanted was to turn over and take comfort in my kakebuton, and I had learned that passive resistance can be as effective as the most determined physical resistance. Now, I was almost a dead weight, and the dead weigh far more than the living.
Tengen grunted with surprise and then loosened his grip without letting go of my hand. For a moment, we were in limbo.
“Please,” he said woodenly. “Allow me to help you to your feet, Mi-san.”
I put my hand to the floor and the next time he tugged, I pushed hard and rose as lightly as a leaf blown by the breeze.
I had won. We both knew that, and I was satisfied. For the moment, at least.