Archive for February, 2010
Dr. Fujiwara’s Several Surprises
Wednesday, February 10th, 2010
Students at the Women’s Battle College had awaited the arrival of Dr. Fujiwara for months. They saw a tiny, wizened old woman in an indigo wrap jacket, sword stuck in her obi—not surprising. But she had short, spiky hair dyed fire engine red and wore jeans instead of hakama—quite surprising.
“Give my regards to your mother, Miss Mountain-root,” she said to Dana Yamamoto. She didn’t say “your mother the General” but all the students heard it.
“Your name isn’t Mountain-root,” pointed out Mirabelle Hayes.
“It is, actually,” replied Dana.
Dr. Fujiwara passed into the school. She (and the contents of her covered cart) disappeared for a week.
Monday morning, Martial Principles Class A arrived at the dojo to find a teahouse built on a cotton pad in the middle of the mat. Dr. Fujiwara waited beside it.
The door to the teahouse stood only three feet high. The students grumbled, finding they had to remove their weapons to avoid knocking them against the door frame; then the low height of the door forced them to bow as they entered. Crowded inside, they looked at each other curiously. Dr. Fujiwara had not become famous for making tea.
“Don’t,” said Dana when she saw Mirabelle gird herself to ask why they were studying tea instead of sword work. Mirabelle looked startled and kept quiet.
“You will wonder why I am teaching you about tea instead of sword work,” said Dr. Fujiwara, looking straight at Mirabelle. “I will tell you. I teach this for the sake of the dead. When I was young like you, I thought I had a calm mind, and knew how to do honor to my enemy. I thought I had compassion. I understood none of these things: I killed one hundred twenty-one people in duels or in battle against the Chinese before I understood,” she went on, nodding to Bao-Yu Zheng as she spoke. “Since then, I have taken only three lives, those of people who insisted there was no other way.”
No one breathed.
“Make no mistake, you are being taught the art of killing. Yet your teachers also teach compassion here; grammar and arithmetic too. Study only killing, and you will be only killers. Study all that they teach, and you may yet become honorable warriors.”
She did not seem to notice the silence.
“We will begin with the mixing of the tea.”
The Frog Prince – The End Bit
Tuesday, February 9th, 2010
Tad was feasting on the last of the cold roasted carrier pigeon. Felicity did her best not to gag. He let out a great froggy burp and leaned against the padded chair with a satisfied air. The princess took a deep breath.
‘Tad, we need to talk.’ ‘Oh, no. You’re froggist, I knew it,’ he sighed.
‘Tad, you’re a frog. A genuine, dyed-in-the-wool-not-gonna-be-anything-else frog, aren’t you?’ She tapped a finger on the table.
‘I might…you never know with these things, really…’ he said lamely.
‘Why did you pretend?’ she demanded. ‘Well, guys be they men, frogs, or dogs, always want what they can’t have.’ He thought for a moment, then shrugged. ‘But I’ve got to tell you, I’m really not attracted to you. You’re not nearly green enough and your legs are really awfully long and straight. It’s more of a trophy thing.’
Great, Felicity thought, dissed by someone who swim in the toilet. ‘Well, I’ve got good news for you, Tad. I have a cousin.’
‘Aw, Felicity, you’re a good stick but I really don’t want another human girlfriend. They’re pretty high maintenance.’
By now Felicity was ready to throw Tad against a wall just to see if he would stick, but she gritted her teeth. She could hear footsteps running along the corridor. The doors to the dining room opened and Bob stumbled in. He smiled broadly.
He held a pink silk cushion and on it sat the greenest of girl frogs, with bendy legs, large eyes, a little purple cape and a teeny-tiny tiara. She batted her lashes at Tad.
‘Tad, this is my cousin Gwyneth. I think I mentioned my great-great-aunt Bernadette of Grenouille-sur-le-Tapis? This is her great-great-granddaughter, a greenblood through and through. I think you’ll find you’ve got a lot in common.’
The look on his face was one of pure rapture; Tad was a real gone frog.
A day later, the pre-nup had been drawn up and Gwyneth, with Tad in-tow, headed back to her kingdom. The last thing Felicity heard as the coach pulled away was Tad’s voice, low and romantic, asking ‘Do you have any carrier pigeons in your castle?’
‘Euuuw,’ said Felicity and Bob in unison.
The very next day, Felicity ordered the pond be drained and filled in. All the foliage was uprooted and burned. The whole area was turned into a soccer field.