The Sound of Snow

Chapter Two: "The Oddball"

   The next memory that jumps out at me the most is from two years later in his life...

     He was hanging around the Tokyo square blooming with life like a plant flourishing under the crisp rays of this spring's first cloudless day. Being the opening Saturday of this seasons' farmer's market, business created a wall of human noises circling the proximity. The Boy was bent over a fountain pool's rim at the foot of a wishing well. It was set neatly out of the way of the adjacent lawn where tents and carts attracted people. Surrounding stores and countryside local businesses had created a mall of this big patch of grass, the humdrum totally ignoring him. The Boy longed to explore the many festivities, to join the other loud children who had designated a small clearing on the turf for a game of catch-ball. All morning, imaginations of being like them, with money to spend on as many sweets as they could bear, kept pulling his brain away from the task at hand. He would soon learn to hate being so disconnected and going unnoticed all the time; but it sure was convenient when his father sent him to do this kind of work.

     He glanced over his little shoulders in all directions vigilantly, trying to wipe droplets of water off his face but his shirt was soaked from sitting beside the falling waves for so long. Pulling open the mouth of his orange and gray drawstring bag with his teeth, he brought up a dripping handful of coins and shoved it into the fast-filling sack. He eyed the people nearest. Sure enough none of them seemed to even notice the petty thief in light of grander attractions. Shaking his bag vigorously, the eight-year-old listened to the tinkling of the silvers inside – Dad had trained him to recognize by ear when he'd met the quota.

     "Just a little more..." 

     Scooting his seating on the brim of the pool, he searched for the shine of more change under the foamy roiling water. Walking the perimeter with pruned fingers scraping the bottom, he decided reluctantly that he'd already fished the fountain down to the last yen.

     Soaked head-to-toe from the spray, he stepped back and crinkled his nose at the irritating squish of his sopping tennis shoes. Good thing they had so many holes, he thought, at least they'd drain fast. He lifted his shirt to dry his face on the one part of the hem that wasn't moist. As he did, a single coin flew over his head, diving into the water with a light plop. The Boy hurriedly dropped his shirt to cover his bruised ribs and spun round.

     There stood Watanabé-sensei, holding the hand of his pregnant wife. "Oh! My bad, I didn't mean to startle you."

     "Watanabé-sensei!" The Boy bowed to his reading teacher, his favorite teacher. 

     The young man flicked his dark shoulder-length hair out of his face and exchanged an amused glance at his wife. "So you, uh... You've been playing in the fountain, I see."

     "Oh." The Boy stammered, his wet clothes irritating his chapped skin, "Um... Yeah."

     "Don't you think it's a bit early in the season for water games?" The teacher raised a kindly brow, "What with your asthma you could catch a cold, you know."

     The child nodded compliantly with a contrite expression.

     "Anyway," Watanabé-sensei went on warmly. "Did you toss a coin for the needy children while you were here?"

     The Boy's eyes panned this way and that, confused and embarrassed. Dad only ever told him to take money out of the wells; he never said anything about giving.

     "Don't you know?" the man urged cheerily.

     He stepped over and crouched next to a small plaque mounted on the approaching side of the wishing well. He gestured for The Boy to com near and so he did. Watanabé-sensei asked him if he could read the sign. The child gave it one glance before hanging his head and apologizing for letting his teacher down. But the patient instructor encouraged him not give up without trying. Together they slowly read the notice aloud, Watanabé-sensei helping him with the more difficult characters. When they finished he praised The Boy heartily. At this the child was aware of a sincere if not undersized grin breaking his wary nerves.