O+F
der the counter. "Message for you, Mr.
k his bag to his roo
or: Olive
ved b
2:15
il's Churn parking area, tomorrow, Monday, at 10:30 in the mor
it? Oliver's heart raced. He went back to the lobby and borrowed
in two hours?" He poi
prob
airport and rented a c
r breakfast on the way,
g on Hawaiian time; he
out his father. Unp
ed on every slope; their branches trembled with moisture; the light was luminous. There was an occasional burst of dazzling sun and then the clouds rolled in again. L
ugh, and the rain let up as he eased into a parking area on a rocky headland. The Devil's Churn. No one else was there. It was 10:05. He put his head back and closed his eyes. Francesca came into his mind, tall and calm, and he w
aseball cap that said, "San Francisco Giants." Oliver got out. The man approached and looked at him c
y," his f
o." Oliv
the steps were damp and slippery. A sign warned them not to go farther: Danger! Large Waves Come Without Warning! His father ignored the sign and walked to the edg
g, lurching, hissing, and sucking. Gradually, it receded. Oliver's father pointed to the other side and walked to the end of the fissure whe
bank of short wet grass. The next train roared in, just a few feet below them. He was terrified. If he slipped, there was nothing to grab. Anyone who fell i
rying not to look to his left. He scrambled down to a rocky shingle near the mouth of the fissure. His fat
ere, you an idiot,
" Oliv
s the
at we've got to go
your m
ve me your name-Oli
glad she is well. She
n't stick aroun
cott, an English prof
she married a guy nam
rble worker." Oliver pa
ve in
and a daughter, grown up, no
Olive
mar
For four
ave ch
N
m .
warning," Oliver said, loo
stion of a smile crossed his father's face as he waved at the wild shore guar
to make things out of wood sometimes." That seeme
ge Nakashima?
N
e years ago." His father reached inside his jacket a
t is
sent. Mayb
a safe pocket. "Thank you," he said. "B
rich as what
the rain. "What are yo
er a
ity of California, Berkeley. I go ba
ea
itating. Oliver went to his hands and knees again. The express exploded past, but he forced himself to look straigh
. "Well . . ." He didn't know what to
in Kamakura. I will be
car. Oliver watched. He waved as his father drove toward the road. His fath
fee. There was no sign of his father. He drove back to Eugene and took a
ed what he set out to do, and now what? His father was controlled, impressive. Oliver felt good about that. If he hadn't found out many details about his father, he had learned something about him
trial, as well. He hadn't shown it. An architect-that was interesting. Oliver had a strong visual sense that had never found a satisfactory outlet. His work had always been secondary in
piece of salmon grilled over alder chips and drank a glass of Oregon Sauvignon Blan
a check
you. I plan to be back home in Kamakura after the first of the year. Maybe you will vis
ealized that the money was his only in the sense that he had control of it. He had it because his father had saved it. How could he just spend it on himself? The money wasn't his;
nse. University students at a corner table might have been figures on a screen or spread around a vase. It was right now, Eugene, Oregon. He wanted to shout: "It will never be this way again. We're here! We're alive!" He
nice after-image on the following afternoon as the plane lowered over the brown Maine woods and the steely blue Atlantic. He took a cab to State Stree