Sakura sat on the park bench praying for some excitement to enter this dull and boring day. She rested her head on her hands, having quit passing flyers to bystanders. She couldn’t believe she was back to her old career, the incredibly monotonous, slow, absurdly boring job of leaflet throwing. To think that such a job even existed in America!

  “Bah, Promotion Officer my ass,” Sakura moaned, ripping open a packet of tissue where the leaflet hid.

  She examined the content with little interest. A pair of cartoon bosoms stared back at her, with the caption “Quick Surgery Ahoy” splashed across the flyer. She knew this was a dodgy company paying little money, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, she reckoned, especially after LA Express fired her over the article.

  Frustrated, Sakura dumped the packet onto the grass and let out a long, deep sigh. This most certainly wasn’t how she had pictured her adventure in America to turn out. She couldn’t help but wonder how her friend Kei was doing in Italy. She hoped she was just as miserable. Or at least just as alone.

  “Not for long,” she said, taking out the book ‘The Master of Zen Philosophy’ from her ‘I love LA’ messenger bag.

  Sakura reminisced about the moments she had spent with Ryu. Often he would pass on to her Gouken’s words of wisdom, sounding poetic and almost philosophical in his sincere recall. While he portrayed a beautiful image of the divine artistry of the eleventh kata, Sakura would bashfully smile and nod without understanding a word he was saying. Not this time, she thought brightly.

  She had a feeling that Ryu wasn’t far away, and she had to prepare for their reunion...just in case.

  “Aha!” she cried, finding the page she wanted, the one with a stiff bookmark lodged in the crease.

  Her smile grew mischievously as she thought of how she was still being paid by the hour. She had another two hours to kill before collecting her pay.

  Bringing her attention back to the book, Sakura read aloud, hoping that the instruction would instinctively make sense.

  “‘The great way is right before our eyes, but it is still hard to see what is beyond our sight. If you want to know the true substance of the great way, it is not a part of sound and form, words and speech.’”

  Sakura looked away, thoughtfully tapping her chin while the teaching processed in her brain. Then she scanned the next line, hoping that this time the words would be a little less confusing.

  “‘Faith is the basis of the path, the mother of virtue; it nourishes all roots of goodness. If teachers are effective, then you know they are to be regarded as wise leaders.’”

  With more patience, Sakura took a moment to crack the code. She saw Ryu in her mind, telling her repeatedly that he was not ready to teach anybody, even after thirty-odd years in training. He had the moves of a predator, swift, fluent and deadly, and she only wanted to learn to kick and punch without falling on her face. Of course, he was ready to teach!

  Sakura clicked her fingers as the explanation unexpectedly became clear.

  “Ryu-san lives his life through the practice of Zen,” she blurted aloud. “It must be! That’s what he used to go on and on about. He was taught how to live ‘the great way.’ That must mean the path of the true warrior. He followed that route because it felt right for him, not because he was told to do so, meaning ‘sound and form, words and speech.’”

  Sakura smiled at her cleverness, half embarrassed that she was talking to herself again. But who cares, she thought. She talked to herself all the time. Gaining confidence, she flicked through the next page, pointing at another philosophy.

  “‘Virtue has no fixed teacher; focus on goodness is the teacher.’” She grinned.

  “That’s why Ryu-san refused to teach me properly. I guess he wanted me to focus on what I was doing rather than who my sensei was. Gosh, I could learn a lot about how Ryu-san lives his life through this.”

  Sakura glanced at her watch and thought to take her book indoors. The temperature had started to drop, with the sun disappearing behind angry clouds. A few raindrops fell, making gray spots on the page where they landed. Hurriedly, Sakura closed the book and grabbed the rest of her things, but a piece of paper escaped her.

  “Ah, my bookmark,” she said, snatching the rose engraved tarot card from the grass.

  Just then, she felt dizzy, straightening up too fast, and she found a tall woman standing before her.

  “Uhh,” Sakura said, surprised, taken aback by her sudden appearance.

  “You called for me?” the woman asked almost expectantly. She lifted an eyebrow, as if waiting for a snap answer.

  “Uhm, sorry, I don’t think so,” Sakura said, confused, bundling the leaflet packets into her arms.

  “Tissue?” she offered eagerly, her arm outstretched waiting for the stranger to refuse her.

  Rose lifted her nose, waving off the gesture with a graceful hand. “I see you have my card, young lady,” she said, her voice resonating.

  Then Rose nodded, poised with a confidence that almost shook Sakura.

  She looked at the card with the rose, then looked up at the lady again. She suddenly remembered finding the card on her desk at LA Express, together with Fei Long’s note. Sakura tensed on the spot, trying to think of what to say.

  “Ahhh,” she began, peering at Rose more closely. She felt a sense of nostalgia. It wasn’t every day that she bumped into someone who dressed this elegantly. “Have we met before?”

  “Conceivably,” Rose said.

  Suddenly Sakura stumbled back, clasping her hands tight over her ears. The sound of Rose’s voice was screechy, nothing like her soft smile. As Sakura straightened up, she stared at the woman with great distrust and curiosity.

  “Who are you?” she ventured, asserting herself.

  “My name is Rose,” the lady said, her voice coming in a strange echo. Her mouth didn’t move but her eyes were intense. “You should prepare for battle. You must turn to it with complete acceptance of what it is, expecting nothing, wanting to change nothing. But it will be the most important shaping of your life.”

  Sakura watched her move a little away from her. The woman’s walk was so sinuous that Sakura felt a pang of jealousy. Her head spun as she tried to analyze every word Rose had spoken, but she could hardly hear herself think. She blinked, then found that Rose was no longer with her.

  How could she just disappear?

  Sakura checked her surroundings, feeling frightened. It was rare for her to feel fear, but something about ‘Rose’ didn’t feel right.

  A loud, ruthless thunderclap woke the sky after a stunning lightening display. Sakura screamed in terror, clasping her mouth abruptly with her hands.

  “Snap out of it, Sakura,” she then yelled at herself, embarrassed by her own outburst. “I hope that weirdo was talking about the weather changing.”

  Large drops of rain trickled over her face. In a matter of seconds, Sakura was soaked.

  “Dang,” she bawled, hurriedly stuffing the leaflets into her bag and running towards the largest tree she could find.

  *****

  Chapter 16:

  INNOCENT HATRED

 
Talyn Rahman-Figueroa's Novels