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She took her shears from his hands, wiped the traces of dirt off the handle, and carefully put them down on the grass behind her. She lifted a broken piece of wood from out of her tomato patch, and carefully drew out two characters next to they boy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s name: \u00e5\u008f\u00a4\u00e5\u00b1\u00b1<\/p>\n
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\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I am Furuyama-san. Fu-ru-ya-ma<\/em>. Old mountain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The boy laughed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s an old mountain, what a funny name,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said in English. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I have to go now.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d And then he looked up at the woman, and switched to Japanese. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I go village.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He stood up. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Furuyama-san, good-bye.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Furuyama-san rose, and gave him a short bow. Before he had walked past the edge of her vegetable garden, she was already carrying her stools back towards the shed.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Not much could be grown in the winter, but Furuyama-san kept coming to her vegetable garden most mornings. She wrapped up in her thick cotton gown, threw on her coat, and kept a warm pot of tea brewing in her shed all day. Sometimes she pottered about with the few plants she tried to coax from the winter gloom, sometimes she just sat in her shed sipping tea. On warmer days she would carry a stool down to the coast, and sit by the sea counting the ships.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The people in Osaka are too busy,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she thought, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153that they end up needing so many ships.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n On one warm day in February, Furuyama-san fell asleep. She started drooping in her stool, and without really meaning to, she ended up on the ground, her old body at crooked angles to the sea wall.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She was awakened by the sound of loud footfalls and spraying gravel.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hai! Hai! Furuyama-san! Furuyama-san!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The old woman opened her eyes. It was dark, and she was a little confused. All she could see was the outline of the seawall in front of her.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Furuyama-san, are you okay?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d It was a confident voice, the Japanese came out crisply. But it contained the unmistakable accent of the boy who brought juice to her from time to time.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Furuyama-san turned her head and looked up at the boy. There was only light from some distant street lamps, but even so she could make out the worry etched into his face. Furuyama-san smiled, and slowly sat up on the ground.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m okay, of course I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m okay. This old woman is always okay.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She got up onto the stool, and leaned back against the edge of the seawall. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I was only asleep. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sleep much these days. But sometimes….\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She looked up at him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m tired.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You must be cold too, Furuyama-san,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he replied. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Here.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Before she could object, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d taken off his jacket and had wrapped it around her shoulders. He squatted down next to her, his face at the same height as hers. She looked for signs of discomfort in his eyes, but there was only concern.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Furuyama-san, do you live far from here? It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s dark already. I can take you home.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The woman shook her head. She was still half asleep. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all right, no need to trouble yourself.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n But he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d already taken his mobile out of his pocket, and a bright torch of light was shining from the top of it. He shone it on the ground between them.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Take your time. Just let me know when you want to walk home. Did you leave anything at your vegetable garden?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The boy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s hand was on her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She shook her head. Little drops of tears had formed in the corners of her eyes, and she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know if she was happy or angry with this strange boy for interrupting her solitude. She felt weary. She didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have the energy to fight, and she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have the energy to navigate his odd foreign accent. She rested, and then she let him walk her home. He carried the stool first back to her vegetable patch, and then she showed him the way to her house, on the other side of the village. The strange light of his mobile phone cast shadows over their steps.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The house was pitch black when they arrived at the front door. She turned her back on him, and unlocked the door. She stepped back to hand him his coat, but he shook his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You keep it for tonight. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s suddenly gotten cold.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She still wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t in the mood to fight. She gave him a long, deep bow. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Arrigatu gozaimashta.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/em>Then she was inside, the door was closed, and all the boy could see was that a light had been turned on.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n He turned around and shook his head, and started walking back through the village. Yamata-san the shop-keeper was outside his shop.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Poor woman. Her house is cold, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve heard she never turns on a heater.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Yamata-san lit up a cigarette.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Good evening,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the boy said, and he gave the shop-keeper a slow bow.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, good evening,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Yamata-san replied. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I saw you walk her home. None of the boys around here would have done that.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The shop-keeper gave a short laugh, and shook his head.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153She was sleeping by the sea. I saw her lying on the ground. I thought… Well, I thought. You know. I thought she was dead.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Yamata-san laughed again. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not that woman, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not a human, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a kami<\/em>. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll still be growing vegetables long after you and I have passed.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He took a long drag of his cigarette, and looked up at the stars. The boy followed his gaze, his eyes searching for the familiarity of the Big Dipper.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Her husband died ten years ago. Poor woman. She has no one left but those vegetables.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He looked up at the boy. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Except I guess she had you tonight too. Better you than me! I stay away from kami<\/em>, I like the world of us humans.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He took a final drag of his cigarette, threw the butt on the ground and walked back into his shop.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The boy kept staring at the stars. The Big Dipper was there, but it was at a funny angle. It wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t the way it was in Maine. It always made him feel lost, looking up at the unfamiliar sky.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n