Page 61 of Water Moon
Chapter Sixty-one
The Last Bowl of Ramen
It looked exactly like the first bowl of ramen he’d ever had at the restaurant, but it tasted nothing like it. Two years of visiting the restaurant and finding nothing but a crowded dining room behind its door had soured the soup. Keishin gagged, struggling not to spit it out.
A woman wearing a strand of cheap plastic pearls took the empty seat next to him at the counter. The bun that held her silver hair threatened to come undone. She wore a faded shirt printed with the logo of a small flower shop chain.
People, Keishin thought, were a lot like neutrinos. Countless numbers passed right through you, unnoticed and invisible. The only time you noticed a neutrino was when it collided with a water molecule. In the silver-haired woman’s case, Keishin would not have noticed her if her pink name tag had not fallen from her shirt and clattered on the floor by his foot. He picked up the tag and handed it back to her.
“Thank you.” The woman dropped the tag into an overstuffed purse and smiled. “You look very familiar. Do you come here often?”
“No.” He pushed back a silver lock of hair from his face. “I live in Gifu.”
“Gifu? That’s quite a long way to come for ramen. But I understand. It is the best in the city. May I ask what you do in Gifu?”
Keishin set his chopsticks down. “I watch the stars from beneath a mountain.”
The woman raised her brows. “Wouldn’t it be easier to watch the stars from the top of the mountain instead of under it?”
“I will pass your suggestion on to my boss. And how about you? What do you do? No. Wait. Let me guess. You work at a flower shop.”
“How did you…” The woman glanced down at her shirt and chuckled. “Oh.”
“Do you like working there?”
“On most days. I like flowers. People are always happy when they buy flowers.” The woman narrowed her eyes at Keishin. “Are you sure that we haven’t met before?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“The mind plays tricks on you when you get older. Or perhaps it is simply wishful thinking.”
“Wishful thinking?”
“My son would be your age now. But…I…we…lost touch a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. A son shouldn’t abandon his mother.”
The woman stared at her feet. “He didn’t.”
“Oh,” Keishin said quietly. “I see.”
“Leaving him was the worst mistake of my life,” the woman said as though the entire restaurant had disappeared and she was talking to no one but herself.
“Why did you do it?”
“For the same reason all fools give up good things. We look at our hands and wonder what we could hold if they were empty.” She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. You just seem so familiar. I feel like I know you. Please forgive me. I will leave you to your lunch.”
“Do you ever think about your son?”
“All the time. I wonder if we’ve passed each other in the street or sat next to each other in a restaurant just like this one. Sometimes, I manage to convince myself that I’ve spotted him in a crowd even though I don’t know what he looks like. Loneliness and regret have a way of making you see things that aren’t really there.”
Keishin stared into his bowl of ramen. He had intended it to be the last bowl he would have at this restaurant. Two years was a long time to stand in line for a bowl of disappointment. He had told himself that if he did not find Hana that day, he was going to let her go. Hoping for nothing cut deeper than the Shiikuin’s talons. He touched the faint scar across his cheek. “Yes, they do.”
“I apologize,” the woman said. “Your ramen has grown cold.”
“It’s all right,” Keishin said. “I don’t mind.”
“I’m sorry that it was your misfortune to sit next to a silly woman who has no one else to talk to. My boss scolds me whenever I chat too long with our customers. He told me that I should get a cat so that I could have someone to talk to when I get home. You are a very patient man to put up with me.” She smiled at him. “Any mother would be lucky to have a son like you.”
“Even you?”
“Of course. Very lucky. A mother’s joy is raising a son who is considerate and kind even to people he doesn’t know. It is a happiness that I gave up my right to know, and so I am grateful for the rare times I catch a glimpse of it.”
Keishin checked his watch and stood up. “I’m sorry. I need to go. I have to catch a train. But please, allow me to pay for your meal.”
She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t impose.”
“I insist. My mother would scold me if I didn’t.”
“Thank you.” The woman smiled. “Have a safe trip.”
Keishin bowed to her. “Have a good day, Takeda-san,” he said, repeating the name he had read on her name tag. He had expected his mother’s name to taste bitter, but it did not. Maybe in time, he thought, it might even taste sweet. “I hope that we meet again someday.”