You Must Remember This

Chapter 15: Now The Milkman's On His Way

Tom was late again. This wasn't an infrequent occurrence, and through force of habit Regina looked around once more, sighed, then sat down and started browsing Instagram. She had told Tom many times, with varying degrees of politeness, how she did not appreciate his constant tardiness; it reflected poorly on his character and made her feel less valued. Tom never had anything to say but "absence makes the heart grow fond." After Regina had waited about ten minutes for Tom, he sauntered toward her, still oozing casualness. Seemingly not sensing any annoyance behind Regina's smile and hug, he pointed vaguely behind him, explaining that there was "traffic." Regina recalled no such traffic.

"We should get some coffee," he suggested, knowing that Regina loved coffee and relied on it to cheer her up; as she had stopped drinking bubble tea because of the club, coffee naturally was a far healthier substitute. At least it was unsweetened. Tom recalled the example of Pavlov's dogs that Frank had discussed in a meeting at some point, with the unspoken lesson that the attendees were conditioned in the same way, and hoped that Regina would associate him with coffee and thus happiness. Whenever he ran into Regina happy for her own reasons that seemed not to be due to his involvement, he always remarked "Wow, looks like you've drunk your coffee today!" as if it were the funniest thing ever; Regina never failed to laugh, and he knew the trick worked. He never knew a happy relationship could be this easy.

"Do you want to sit around the park and just relax, you know? It's a nice day—ooh, have you ever been to the Japanese garden?" The Japanese garden was its own enclave within the park, taking up a deceptively small amount of space. The city had sent architects to Japan to do research, and after great expense successfully recreated something that would not be out of place in a remote mountain village or the grounds of a Buddhist temple. Tom mumbled his assent, and they made their way over to the garden; due to the cold weather, the only other passersby were old couples who walked tremulously. Regina pointed out the koi, the jizo statue that Fujiwara-sensei said had special cultural significance, and the exact replica of a Japanese teahouse (or a chashitsu, as Regina insisted on calling it).

"You can book authentic Japanese tea ceremonies there—they even import the tea!" Regina explained enthusiastically, and Tom shrugged without paying what she said much consideration. One day Fujiwara-sensei had taken the class on a field trip here and gave the same tour in far more detail than Regina was giving to Tom. Tom did not think a Japanese tea ceremony sounded particularly interesting, although it sounded like the cultured sort of thing his father would appreciate; he appreciated more the general feeling of tranquility that pervaded the space. If he applied some wishful thinking, a few deep breaths, he could imagine himself on vacation with Regina at his side.

Regina was about to show Tom her favorite spot to sit, under a ginkgo tree, when they discovered John had beaten them to it. He appeared plaintive, staring out at the pond and blinking occasionally. He seemed not to notice them when they sat down until Regina tapped him on the shoulder. John recoiled, then relaxed again, still sitting sphinx-like. John and Regina both considered this their favorite spot in the park because it completely blocked out any view of the city surrounding them; it was truly as if they were in Japan.

"How are you, John? What a funny coincidence to see you here. Do you come here often?" Regina felt guilty for disrupting John from whatever he was doing, but thought it less awkward than waiting for him to notice them.

"Sometimes when I feel like life is overwhelming, I take the bus here by myself and come here. I could sit here for hours. They say that the secret to meditation is breathing—have you heard that before? You begin by focusing on your breath at the exclusion of all else: in and out, almost like you are tasting the air. And when that rhythm becomes natural, you lose track of even that, and then your mind becomes quiet. We live in a society that focuses on speed at the exclusion of everything else. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, we always move against the waters of time. It's a river that runs downhill forever, or a waterfall. If we always think about what needs to happen tomorrow, all the way until our universe is a shriveled black dot, when do we think about today? Life is meant to be lived slowly, savored, chewed, contemplated. Will you stay a while?" Tom looked at John with a rare awe—he was a monk at the temple, sharing wisdom accumulated over generations! But Tom did not want to listen; he had left his house with the intent of socializing, of being boisterous and laughing a little too loudly, of having a good time to eclipse all other good times. There was no room in that for John's quaint philosophy. He was content to leave John as he was and take Regina with him before she, too, could become a statue, but she had other plans: