CHAPTER ONE

YOKOHAMA... NOVEMBER 8TH ... 1941... MY VERY LAST DAY... IN MY BELOVED JAPAN...!

An air of bone-tingling mystery... in the house... my family hushed and tense... 'What's going on..?' ... I wonder to myself... all breathless...

All those visitors... Papa's many Swiss compatriots... friends... and business associates... coming and going...!

I hear the murmur of barely audible voices... coming from behind Papa's closed study door... 'Why are they here... and why all of them... and all at the same time...?!'

My eleven-going-on-twelve mind gives up... exasperated... because neither my stepmother Xenia... nor my older teenage siblings... Prima and Remo... sixteen and fifteen... respectively... deign to answer the annoying... querulous questions... of their insignificant baby sister... now just about five months short of her twelfth birthday...

I wait impatiently... playfully teasing Kitty... my adorable little snow-white ball of fluff... with the toy airplane strung up from wall to wall... in the living room... making her jump up... batting at it with her little paws... every time it swoops down towards her... along the string...

Finally... the sacro-sanct study door opens... and out emerges our handsome patriarch... his noble head held high... with some sixty men trailing behind him... the expressions on their faces... most grave... indeed...!

And as I watch my father striding towards us... as we all wait with baited breath... his proud patrician profile... reminding me... once again... how very strikingly it resembles that of the great Shakespearean actor... John Barrymore... the thrilling sight of him... invariably causes my chest to swell... making me feel proud... all over again... to be his daughter...

It is very very strange... nobody speaks...! And all the visitors file silently off... into the early evening... heading for our front door... their eyes downcast... giving little nods of absent greeting... in our direction... their smiles sickly... as they pass by us...

My elders then retire to the dining room... absentmindedly patting me on the head... in passing... shutting me out...! And all I can see... as I try to peer in at them... squinting w-a-a-y sideways to the right... through the French glass doors... as they sit around the huge dining table... their expressions a tableau of wide-eyed shock... is a lot of vigorous head-shaking going on... but no sound...

And it is only at dinner time... some three long hours later that... bursting with a mixture of eager excitement... and fearful curiosity... I finally find out what all the hush-hush secrecy... was all about... on that so out-of-the-ordinary afternoon...

Papa Rau... apparently... had found it necessary... and of vital importance... to call an urgent meeting... at our house... of his Swiss compatriots... because... when he had taken his beloved wife Xenia and me to the cinema... earlier that week - looking very much forward to seeing our very favorites... Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers... gracefully tripping the light fantastic together... in yet another frothy musical comedy - he had been startled to see... during the preceding Movietone Newsreel... of all people... President Roosevelt... and the Japanese Ambassador... Mr. Oshima... shaking hands with each other... at the White House... in Washington..!

Becoming very alarmed... at the sight of these two politically powerful representatives... of their countries... smiling at each other... in friendship... Papa had immediately shot to his feet... and without uttering a single word of explanation... to either my stepmother Xenia... or myself... his face suddenly turned pasty greenish-white... with shock... had impatiently herded us out of the theater... jostling and annoying the movie patrons... settled comfortably in their seats... in his haste to get us outside...

Once we were standing in front of the theater... he disappointed Xenia and me greatly... by abruptly announcing... that we were going straight home... and that there would be no eating out at a fancy restaurant... not that night...!

In all the years I had known him... I had never seen him look quite like that before... so unnerved... his whole demeanor stiff... and his jaw set like granite... and my heart started to pound... with fear and trepidation...

Ever since that puzzling afternoon... there had been that aura of unsettled expectancy... in the house... that electric... tingling... "something in the air" feeling...

We all already knew about Papa... being forced to present himself daily... at the Miharashibashi Chiho no Keisatsusho (District Police Station)... a harrowing ordeal... that had been going on now... for the past three months... being bombarded... hour after hour... by the same questions... over and over again... such as...:

"Why do you want to leave Japan now... after living here for over twenty-eight years..? Why do you want to return to Europe..? What do you propose to do about all your companies..?"

All the questions rudely shouted out at him... in the usual guttural... aggressive language of Japanese officials in authority... while being made to stand stiffly respectful... at attention... in front of his uncouth bullies...

And Theodore Rau... holding his anger in with great effort... at being treated like a common criminal... speaking in fluent Japanese... would very patiently give the arrogant officials... the same reply... over and over again... explaining that his business interests in Europe... demanded his personal attention...

Besides... it was quite natural... for him to wish to return to his homeland... Switzerland... for a long overdue visit... cleverly evading answering directly...as to what his intentions were... towards his extensive import/export empire... The Overseas Trading Co. ... and The Oriental Purchasing Co... carved out by him... when he was 21... throughout Switzerland... New York... Tokyo... Yokohama... Osaka... Kobe and Nagoya... Shanghai and Mukden...

After the interminable hours... of persistent... exhaustive grilling... Papa would always be curtly dismissed... with an arrogant wave of a hand... and the disappointing words...:

"Well... you are to come back tomorrow afternoon... Perhaps tomorrow we will let you leave Japan... But not today... because the American ocean liner "Empress of New York" ... that you have booked passage on... is still waiting for refugees to come from Korea - (or Shanghai... or Formosa... or Saigon... - the names of the places... kept changing from day to day...) Or their favorite excuse... with the cruel intention of making Papa even more frustrated... would be...:

"You cannot leave Japan today... because the "Empress" is undergoing repairs... and is not yet ready to sail for New York yet..." (Papa's head office happened to be in the Chrysler Building in New York... and he was anxious to get to the United States of America... as soon as possible... to attend to his business affairs there...)

I remember how awed... and full of wonder... I had felt... when Papa had explained to me... after booking passage... on the ocean liner... "Empress of New York" ... that would sail us away from the Orient... that it only took about two weeks... to sail directly from Yokohama to New York... under normal circumstances... marvelling that actually only a mere fourteen days... separated me... from the mysterious Western World... that... for the longest time... I had been longing to see..! For Japan was the only country... I could ever remember having lived in... for the past ten years or so...

Meanwhile... we... the Rau family... of five... were literally sitting on packed suitcases... for the past three months... all schooling stopped... waiting every night... with eager anticipation... for Papa to finally come home... with the necessary documents... in his hands... stamped with the Japanese government's official seal of approval... allowing him and his family... to leave Japan...

CHAPTER TWO

WE MUST LEAVE NIPPON...!

Now Papa Rau... on this eve of November 8th ... 1941... sitting at the head of the dinner table... clears his throat... and we all know... from force of habit... that he has something of great importance... to say to his family... So we all keep silent... all heads turned towards our pater... looking at him questioningly... and there is an expectant hush ... in the room...

His brilliant emerald green eyes rest lingeringly... on each one of those... he now feels such a grave... monumental responsibility for... the heavy weight of which is clearly apparent...

His gaze tenderly resting first... on his beloved Russian wife of five years... Xenia... then earnestly on his Swiss/French/Italian children... Prima... Remo... and lastly... quizzically on the oddball... Graziella... sitting on each side of him - the atmosphere so ultra quiet... that you could hear a pin drop...

And we all wait... with baited breath... all ears... all wondering to ourselves... what momentous pronouncement... our stern patriarch... is about to utter...

And then... in a serious... quiet tone of voice... Papa proceeds to tell us that... ever since witnessing the ominous handshake... between President Roosevelt... and the Japanese Ambassador... Mr. Oshima... at the cinema the other day... he had been gravely disturbed... and therefore had found it necessary... to hastily call an urgent meeting that afternoon... summoning all his Swiss colleagues... business associates and friends... to the house...

And in a ringing voice of conviction... he informs us further...:

"I am absolutely certain now... that the "Japs" will never let us leave Japan... officially... not only in view of the fact... that I know far too much... about the country's economic and industrial situation... but because I am positive... that they are up to something... brewing some devilish stew of gigantic... global proportions... since it has become quite obvious to me... that for some years now... Japan has been secretly allied with Germany..!"

Papa bearing his soul... in this manner... expressing his personal feelings to us... so openly and honestly... almost as if we were grown-ups... is most astonishing... to say the least... For in the close to two years... that we had been living with him... under the same roof... he had never ever talked to us... his children... all assembled together... and at the same time... like this before...!

And utterly mind-boggling to me... is the fact that... for the first time in our lives... Papa is confiding his personal opinions to us... as if we were intelligent equals... even including me... whom he had always considered a "dumb cluck"... and "brainless"... And here he is... talking to his family... as if they were perfectly capable... of understanding the seriousness... and gravity... of his words..!

And as we all sit stunned... listening to Papa Rau speak... afraid to make a single sound... in case it might suddenly dawn on him... that he was addressing children... and not adults... letting out a great sigh of sadness... he continues..:

"In all the twenty-eight years... that I have been living here... in this strangely beautiful... exotic country... with all its wonderful ancient culture... its unique codes of honor... so deeply ingrained in its people... I would never have thought... that it would come to this point...

Where Nippon... once the noble "Land of the Rising Sun"... would have become so besmirched... so badly stained... by the malevolent influence... of that crazy megalomaniac lunatic Nazi... Hitler... and his mad... idiotic ideologies... extremely dangerous... whose strangling tentacles... ever since 1934... have gradually... and insidiously... and malignantly... been seeping into the insulated... ancient traditions of Japan... blanketing her soil... with ever darkening shadows of evil..!"

I never realized... what a poet Papa was... then remembered his fascinating tales... about the wonderful time he had spent... traversing the length and breadth of Europe... as a carefree... roving... singing troubadour... when he was in his teens...

And then my ears perk up... as I hear him gravely go on to say that... consequently... he had spent the entire afternoon... seriously voicing his doubts and fears... to Mr. Zwinkler... one of his closest and dearest friends, (a confirmed bachelor... and long time general manager of the YCAC... (the Yokohama Country & Athletic Club)... as well as to his other fellow Swiss countrymen... informing them all... that he simply had no other recourse... but to liquidate all his assets... all his business holdings... his properties... - in short everything - and leave Japan secretly... with his family... In other words... escape from under the noses of the Japs... flee from the now evilly tainted shadow... of the Land of the Rising Sun..!

And he told all of them... that he was inviting them to join him... urging them to believe him... when he said that the Japs were up to something... something of monumental... global proportions... which would very badly affect the whole world...

They had all patiently listened... to Papa's intelligent reasoning... agreeing wholeheartedly with him... but those with small children... were afraid to compromise their young lives... barely begun... afraid to risk the wrath of Japanese officialdom... should they get caught...

And reluctantly... they had voiced their unanimous decision... to stay on in Japan... leaving through legal channels... instead... when officially allowed to... for they were after all... neutrals... their country not at war with anybody...

We all sit still... raptly listening to our pater telling us... that we are going to sneak out of Japan... !!! ... and that he is not going to wait any longer... for official permission...!

The last three months of rude interrogation... like he was a common criminal... was enough... Never again... was he going to suffer the indignity... of one more grueling grilling session... at the Miharashibashi District Police Station... being subjected to insistent questioning... by arrogant men in uniform... especially not since seeing that ominous handshake between President Roosevelt... and the Japanese Ambassador... the other evening...

As Papa voices his very real fears... I look around the table... studying the various expressions... on my most interesting family's faces...:

First there is Xenia... daughter of the famous Russian White Army... General Bogoluboff... my stepmother of almost six years... an attractive woman in her mid thirties... about to celebrate her birthday... on November 19th... born under the intriguing sign of Scorpio... sitting at the end of the table... opposite her beloved Theo... her skillfully made-up... false "mask of beauty"... registering little emotion... Only her beautiful blue-grey eyes... magnified behind her prescription glasses... show her true feelings... as they focus adoringly... on her mate... the love of her life...

Her dark brown shoulder-length hair... rolled in one long coil... around her head... neatly parted dead center... swept back in soft wings... is styled after the coiffure of the famous film actress... Kay Francis... Her facial features... especially without her glasses on... bear a very striking resemblance... to her favorite... equally famous movie star... Myrna Loy... Her figure would have been perfect... except for the funny way... her bottom stuck out and up... just like the African women of the Kikuyu tribe... very noticeable... whenever she danced the tango with her beloved...

Then Prima Vera... my older and only sister... being the first born of our French-Italian mother... "La Contessa Vera Quarta di Torino" ... nee Turin... (which fact of nobility... I only found out about... when I was twenty-one...!)... sitting next to Xenia... opposite me... turned sweet sixteen... about four months ago... on July 27th... with her coal-black... flirtatious eyes... framed by long... curly eyelashes to die for... above which grow a set of unusual bushy... dark eyebrows... meeting across... and dipping down in an inverted vee... above the bridge of her nose... denoting a passionate nature... quick to flare up in anger...

Prima's interesting lovely features... are perfectly symmetrical... in their oval shape... her complexion a flawless... creamy... ever-so-slightly olive-tinged texture... inherited from her beautiful mother... lucky never to have gone through the acne stage... She boasts her mother's patrician Roman nose... and rosy... sensuously pouting lips... covering a set of interestingly uneven... small pearly white teeth... The whole is complemented... by a strong... jutting chin... hinting at a defiant nature...

All this lovely beauty of hers... is framed by a cloud of thick... naturally curly... chestnut-colored hair... worn loose... to just below her shoulders... with her trademark... wide silver headband... holding the gorgeous mass back... off her face... completes the picture of a strong-willed... reckless... ready-to-try-anything... tempestuous gypsy girl... her whole appearance clearly showing... that she was born under the fire sign of Leo...

Pleasingly buxom... albeit on the short side... she is very popular with girls... as well as boys... ever ready and eager... for excitement and adventure... "boy-crazy" ... a devastating heart-breaker... a real man-killer... (already having driven two grown men literally insane..!)... her fierce ambition... to become a great dramatic actress... some day... like the incomparable Sarah Bernhardt... already having made a name for herself... from the age of 12... starring in stage productions of Shakespeare's plays...! She is also an accomplished pianist... with quite a number of public recitals... to her credit...

Remo Guido... my older brother... by three years and seven months... born under the sign of Cancer... on July 19th... about a year younger than Prima... is sitting next to me... on my right...

At almost four months into his fifteenth year... he is a strikingly handsome... Errol Flynn look-alike... already standing over six feet tall... raw-boned... with intelligent grey-green eyes... naturally wavy... thick light brown hair... confidently looking out at the world... with a steady gaze... He has the inevitable Roman nose... inherited from his mother... his lips artistically shaped... curving his mouth... into a sensitive cast... His skin is interestingly pockmarked... from a nasty bout with acne... giving his face a distinctly rugged... craggy look...

The fact that this handsome dreamboat... had little interest in girls... drove them crazy... For he could usually be found... either preoccupied... studiously wrapped up in his music... devoting all his free time... to practicing on his oboe... whilst sitting next to the grammophone... in his attic room... playing his favorite symphonic suites on it... patiently waiting through long passages... for the oboist's turn... so that he can join in... playing along with the orchestra...

Or he would be standing in front of his easel... intently concentrating on painting reproductions of a bowl of fruit... or a vase of flowers... showing exceptional artistic talent... even painting a charming portrait... of yours truly... which won first prize at the Jiyugakuen Painting Exhibition Contest... and may still be hanging in the gallery there...!

He is a rare combination of genius...: an accomplished pianist... as well... talented actor... exceptional painter... and paradoxically... a whizz at mathematics..! He simply just has to glance at a column of four, five, or six-digit figures... on a page... swiftly run his finger down the numbers... and perfectly accurately... add up the total in his head..!

Or... he would amuse himself... with his pet snakes... by letting them coil around his torso... under his shirt... Then playfully flashing his dazzling... irresistible smile... displaying a set of perfect white teeth... he would coax some love-smitten girl... into his arms...

And as she felt the snakes... writhing against her breasts... she would invariably scream her head off... And her near-swooning... would make him erupt into roaring laughter... (There is a saying that if you have crooked fingers... no snake will ever bite you - well... it so happens that Remo has crooked fingers... and no snake has ever bitten him... except once... when he picked his pet up... after she had just eaten... his fingers involuntarily causing her a stab of pain... when he ally pressed on her stomach...)

Or... he would spend some time... gleefully taunting me... his little sister... jeeringly calling me "Crazy-Ella..." or "Gassy-Ella..." ... or his favorite nicknames for me...: "Featherbrain..." and "Scatterbrain..." ... until I wanted to scream...

Curiously... during the four years... when we were boarders at the ISY... (International School of Yokohama...)... he hardly noticed me... but now that we were all living under the same roof together... for the past almost two years... not a day went by... when he did not make it his business... to torment me with his jeering taunts...

One day... about six months ago... something inside me had snapped... Unable to stand his teasing any longer... looking around for a weapon to attack him with... I had caught sight of a sharp-bladed silver oar... propped inside a Japanese fishing boat curio... made of glass and silver... sitting on the sideboard in the dining room...

And without thinking... I had snatched it up... turned... and the ferocity with which I had gone chasing after my big brother... intent on drawing blood... had taken him by such completely overwhelming surprise... that he had become very wary of his little sister's outrage... from then on... And a strange kind of respect for her... was born that day... For from that day forward... he very rarely called me names again... except affectionately... but never ever again tauntingly...

Last of all... our patriarch... Theodore Rau... born in the easternmost tip of Switzerland... in the remote mountainous region of canton Graubuenden... where Romansch... a mixture of Latin and Italian... was still spoken... and by only one percent... of the Swiss population of six million..!

At forty-nine... four months short of his fiftieth birthday... on March 12th... born under the sign of Pisces... he has perfectly round... startling intelligent eyes... of a brilliant green... like emeralds... above which sweep long eyelashes... that any girl would kill for...

Serenely looking out at the world... with supreme... utter confidence... his prominent... imperious nose... is at strange odds with his incongruous... smallish mouth... usually set in an expression of sternness... with a slight curve... hinting at petulance... his small... even white teeth... also at odds with the rest of his noble looking features...

Although only five feet ten inches in height... he looks much taller... because of his proud bearing... for he walks tall... his leonine golden head held high... his strides always long... and purposeful...

Firmly believing in rigorous... daily exercise... his lithe body... is in excellent physical condition... And being quick... graceful and light... on his feet... had earned him many a black belt prize... in the martial arts of Judo... Jujitsu... and also Karate championships... many times over...

Ever since he was twenty-one when... newly arrived in Japan... transferred by his employers... the Volckert Brothers... from three years apprenticeship with them in Bombay... India... he had been overwhelmingly impressed... when he witnessed a brawl... in a low-down dive by the pier... where a tiny Nipponese man... a government official... smartly turned out in western clothes... complete with a bowler hat and gloves... had knocked unconscious to the floor... in no time flat... six burly... giant... muscular sailors... without even losing his breath... nor suffering even a scratch on his body... or a wrinkle... to his immaculate clothes..! And what is more...his bowler hat was still on his head..!

I wished Papa would smile more often... for when he did... the outer corners of his eyes... would crinkle up... creating crow's-feet... softening the craggy stoniness... of his flinty features...

He looked the epitome... of a self-confident... successful businessman... who had carved out a vast... thriving import/export business empire for himself... across two continents... dealing in silk... and other specifically Oriental commodities...

He was now looking around the table... taking stock... his gaze first alighting upon his lovely Russian wife... of five years... whom it was obvious... to the whole world... that he adored... by the way in which his eyes would light up... every time he looked at her...

Then on his firstborn... Prima... (or so we were led to believe... at that time... having no clue... that she was actually his secondborn..!) For he had already conceived a child... Berthina - shortened to Bertha - with his common law Japanese wife... of seven years... a beautiful Geisha... called Kimiko..!

Even as we now sit around the dinner table... unaware of this sister's existence... she was quietly growing up... in Italy... where our mother had packed her off to... to be raised by her favorite aunt... Zia Lucia... because as a young bride of sixteen... and already pregnant with Prima... she had been unable to cope with the existence... of a baby girl of four... conceived by her husband's concubine...!

We were not destined to meet Papa's daughter Bertha... until she was a grown-up woman of twenty-three... and we were brought together... in Zurich Switzerland... when he went to Italy... to bring her back with him... to live with us... after the war...!

Resting his gaze on Prima... Papa contemplated that... although she was quite wild by nature... nevertheless the years of intelligent discipline... at the ISY... had taught her a good sense of responsibility... and he had no doubt... that she would be able to comport herself... without going to pieces... should a dangerous predicament arise... on their forthcoming perilous... cloak-and-dagger journey...

Likewise his son... Remo... so musically talented... and an exceptional artist at painting... and his cool head for figures... would make of him an excellent businessman some day... no doubt following in his father's footsteps... He was secretly proud... at how his children had turned out...: all healthy... good-looking... and smart...

Except for his youngest... Graziella Nadia... the odd one... the dreamer... the "dumb cluck" of his brood... who may... or who may not be... his real daughter... because of his previous wife's many numerous infidelities...! And a frown now creasing his forehead... his eyes looked puzzled... as they rested upon me... and I could almost read his random thoughts..:

"...Although she does possess an extraordinarily powerful singing voice... for her age... and (sighing) almost became the world class athletic champion... I so much wanted her to be... training her from when she was just a tiny little thing..."

Then sighing... "I wonder whether I was too hard on her... somehow causing her crazy heart condition.... (imperceptibly shrugging off the unpleasant likelihood)...

And then she seems to have that unnerving... uncanny sixth sense... which often makes me feel uncomfortable around her...

For instance... how come she manages to "recognize" so many places in Japan... that she has never been to before..?! And how come she spoke such cultured Japanese... and so fluently... when she was just a mere baby... while Vera and I were raising her together... whilst living in Peking... China... before she even ever had set foot on Japanese soil... a language... that neither of us had taught her...!?"

"And look at her special way with animals... She seems to have an uncanny knack... of being able to communicate with them... Look how she trained Kissa... and her brood of seven... to jump up onto the windowsill... of the dining room... to beg for their meals...!

One by one... down the row... starting with my favorite... Mickey the comedian... snow-white... except for the black patch over his eye... giving him a cocky look... Then followed by queenly Cleopatra... always contemptuously looking about her... with disdain... Then boisterous Roustabout... and shy little Ginger... ending with the inseparable trio... Eeny... Miney and Minnie... Now that takes some training... (giving me a glance of admiration...) I shall miss them... and their clever antics - it's a good thing that Hana loves all the cats... and will take good care of them..."

Pondering further...:

"And then there were those occasions... when she would suddenly jump up onto my lap... unnervingly throwing her arms around my neck... and so affectionately... startling me... asking me all those unsettling... deep questions... and so seriously... such as...:

"Papa... can you please tell me why we are born...?"

And at another time...:

"Papa... what does Karma really mean...?" And...: "Papa... please tell me the true significance... about living a whole lifetime on earth... and what the real purpose of it all is..?"

And on yet another occasion...:

"Papa... what does "the law of cause and effect" really mean... in the great scheme of things..?! "And what is your understanding about reincarnation...?!"

"My secretly "darling Nadia"... always looking so directly at me... with those great big innocent blue eyes of hers... her heart so open... and pure... her gaze so earnest... and steady... and expectant... wholeheartedly trusting me to know all the answers..."

Wondering to himself...:

"I know how extremely serious... my youngest daughter is... and what a questing mind she has... I don't really want to push her off my lap... barking out mathematical questions at her... knowing full well... that she doesn't have a quick enough mind... to calculate the figures in her head accurately... as she stands in front of me... her mouth gaping open... with a shocked blank look on her face... utterly tongue-tied..."

"And I don't really want to punish her... by sending her to her room... in disgrace... hungry... without any food... whenever she fails to give me the right answers... I certainly know only too well... what a ravenous appetite she always has... eating like a horse... the way she does... growing up as fast as she is..."

"Nor... (sighing again) do I want to torture her... with those damnable cockroaches... every night... But I will not have a daughter of mine... growing up... afraid of anything... let alone a harmless little insect..."

"And wherever that idea of taunting her with the devil... came from... I'll never know... But all I'm doing... really... is disciplining her so severely... so that she'll stop and think next time... before she jumps up onto my lap... asking me those embarrassing questions...

And she does have that nasty knack... of catching me off guard... ruffling my ego far more... than I care to have it ruffled... Besides... it is unthinkable... that a daughter of mine... should ever get the better of me... her father... I shall never tolerate such an eventuality..."

Then not wanting to dwell too long... on the puzzling enigma... that I presented to him... he focussed his attention back on Prima and Remo...

Ah... but their qualities... and accomplishments of near-genius... on the other hand... more than made up for his youngest's oddness... and blank brain... and perplexing peculiarities... with her head always in the clouds...

For the two of them... were always at the top of their class... and their fame had spread... far and wide... throughout the Orient... Not only because they were virtuosi pianists... having already given many concerts... at the young ages of eleven and twelve... respectively... but because they were wonderfully mature Shakespearean actors... as well..!

And his chest swelled with pride... when he thought of the exceptional artistic talents of his son... winning many national competitions... in oil and water-color painting... including that wonderfully life-like portrait of Graziella... capturing the clear blue... guileless expression of her eyes... portraying her trusting innocence... (casting a quick glance back at me... his eyes shining with approval)... now hanging in the gallery of the famous Aoyama Gakushuin University... familiarly known as the "Jiugakuen" ... in Tokyo...

The International School of Yokohama... had staged Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night" ... in the great auditorium of the famous... opulent Grand Hotel... situated on the wide... oceanfront boulevard... the Bund... facing the Pacific Ocean.. with Prima playing one of the leads... She had brought the house down... with her dramatic interpretation... of the role of Viola... and the passion... with which she had portrayed her... was so magnificent... that she had drawn crowds... even from overseas... although she was only twelve years old... at the time..!

Then the ISY had staged the hilarious comedy... "Admirable Crighton" ... at the Grand Hotel... that was also a smash hit... and Remo... in one of the leads... surprised everybody... with his instinctive flair for comedy... making the audience of over five hundred... roll in the aisles... doubled over with laughter...

People had come from all over... far and wide... even from overseas... to see these talented young actors and actresses... of all nationalities... from the ISY... and they had received accolades... and rave reviews... in the newspapers...

Not to leave the youngsters of the school out... they had presented a short pageant... before "Twelfth Night" ... featuring the "Seven Virtues" ... and I remember wanting to be "Beauty" ... so badly... that I could taste it in my mouth...

How bitterly I had cried... when they chose me to be "Joy" instead... and I could not be mollified... Not until one of the mothers... who was helping organizing the proceedings... and whose daughter was going to be in the pageant with me... took me aside... and putting her hands on my shoulders... gazing intently into my eyes... had gently... and with great sincerity... in her eyes... remonstrated with me...:

"...But don't you know... that you are "Joy" personified...? Look how joyously you sing to God.. in church... and how radiantly... and so very beautifully... your face glows... whenever you sing your praises to Him...! Why... you are "Joy" and "Beauty" combined... truly one of God's precious daughters... upon whom He Smiles Down... with Special Favor..!"

Upon hearing her words... spoken with such feeling... my tears had dried up instantly... and I could only stare at her... with a mixture of awe and shame - I had had no idea... that she had observed me that closely...

For it was the very first time in my life... that I felt truly "noticed"... and the real me... possibly "understood" ... by another human being... And for her to turn out to be a woman I barely knew... was incredible...! I was about six and a half at the time...

When I found out that it was her daughter... who was chosen as "Beauty"... I felt sick with nausea... at having been taken in... disgusted with myself... for having been so gullible... fooled by a doting... ambitious mother... who would resort to any guile... to secure her daughter's heart's desire... the coveted role of "Beauty"...

At the same time... I was filled with envy... that the girl was so lucky... to have such a devoted mother... at her side... And a flood of longing... for my own mother... whom I missed so achingly... more and more... with each passing day that I was separated from her... filled me to such an extent... that the critics gave rave reviews... for the "Seven Virtues"... particularly over the fact... that "the lovely... and graceful... blue-eyed... exceptionally tall... golden-haired Graziella Rau... had put so much feeling... into the role of "Joy"... that the rest of the performers' acting... had been wooden... by comparison... especially "Beauty's"..!"

I had also had my share of fame... although minor... compared to my siblings... by making my very first speaking... and singing stage appearance... at the age of about eight... when I played the part of the Red Indian princess... "Tiger Lily" ... in the ISY production of "Peter Pan" ... singing the hauntingly beautiful ballad... "Sky Blue Waters"...

I had also sung the peppy little ditty... "This Little Piggy" ... for Wendy... from behind the stage curtain... while she... sitting on stage... surrounded by her younger brother and sister... and with her back turned to the audience... pretended to sing the song... as a lullaby to them...

I had tried to disguise my voice... hoping that it would not be recognized as Tiger Lily's... in the next act... I was also worried... that my voice would not carry... beyond the thick back-drop...

But apparently... every last one of the audience... heard every word I sang... because... when I had finished... there had been great hand-clapping... and shouts of "Bravo" ... roaring through the auditorium...

And Wendy... sweet sweet Wendy... had stepped outside her role... for a moment... reached behind the curtain... grabbed hold of me... and pulled me out... blushing with surprise and pleasure... to a l-o-n-g... heady... standing ovation... - my very first..!

And then when I appeared on stage... in the next act... in the role of Tiger Lily... all dressed up in an Indian costume... I was not recognized... until I sang the ballad...

And when I finished singing the haunting... poignant melody... there was a hush... for a breathless moment... And then to my utter joy... everybody in the audience stood up and cheered... with enthusiastic shouts of "Bravo..." again... and "Encore...encore...!" ... giving me my second overwhelmingly sweet ovation...!

And the accolades were so great... that I had to sing the ballad again...!

From then on... I was hopelessly stage-struck... wanting to be a singing actress... just like my favorite idol... Deanna Durbin... more than ever... and hopefully an opera diva... one day...

(As a matter of fact... I was born with two burning ambitions... that blazed equally brightly... in my soul..:

To be a fervent soldier for God... helping lost souls... to find their way back to Him... and to joyfully give pleasure to others... through my singing voice... which my Heavenly Father... Had Lovingly Blessed me with...)

Looking around the table... at my family... on that eve of November 8th ... 1941... now that our lives... were about to be disrupted... so abruptly... once again... I pondered over the fact... that in all the time... that we had been living under the same roof together... it was a very sad fact that... at this very crucial time of upheaval... in our lives... there still was no real sense of closeness... between Papa and Xenia... and ourselves... his children...

We were yet to feel really and truly welcomed... loved and accepted... by Papa and Xenia... as an integral part of their family... We very quickly learned the difference... between spending short vacation jaunts with them... when our hours were filled with lighthearted fun and games... and living with them permanently...

Living together under the same roof... on a daily basis... however... as we had been doing... ever since the first day... following my tenth birthday... the momentous day the Rau children were finally baptized...! ... and so suddenly... and at our advanced ages... proved to be quite difficult... and did not help to create... a natural atmosphere of relaxed contentment... in each other's company...

For there was always an unpleasant tension prevalent... whenever we found ourselves... in their presence... For if the truth were known... on the whole... we had become so estranged - especially Prima and Remo - having grown up away from their daily influence... whilst living as permanent boarders at the ISY... for over four crucial years... of their character and personality development...

Looking across at Papa and Xenia... already married now for about five years... I marvelled at how much they still seemed to be so much in love with each other... to such an extent... that we always felt a kind of embarrassed guilt... whenever we came into their presence... being made to feel... that we were intruding... on their wedded bliss...

Very quickly after moving in together... with them... Papa had imposed the very strict ruling... that we were to always knock on any door in the house... and wait to be invited in... before opening it...

The brunt of the feeling of estrangement... fell the heaviest upon me... for when I became only "Graziella" to Papa... at the age of six... after the love of his life... Xenia came into his life... he suddenly ceased his customary manner... of easy camaraderie with me... when we had often conversed casually in Japanese... together...

And he suddenly began to treat me... with unaccustomed sternness... and harsh discipline... especially in front of Xenia... with the insistence... that English be the only language spoken... in their company... Adding the constant admonition... that children should be seen and not heard... and only speak... when spoken to... pleasing his neurotically possessive beloved... enormously...!

Our lives had changed so abruptly when... first of all... the International School of Yokohama... under the auspices of the Anglican Christ Church of England... protected by her sovereignty... presided over... by Reverend Reginald Percival Pott... and his entourage of teachers from Canada... England... Wales and Scotland... respectively... had been forced to close down... shortly after the outbreak of war... when the Japanese government had issued a proclamation... ordering all foreign schools... to teach two thirds of their curriculums... in Japanese...!

Second of all... when... although my mother apparently had full custody of all of her children... Prima Vera... Remo Guido and Graziella Nadia (although that fact was not known to me at the time...) ... when she went to South Africa... with her comparatively new husband of three years... Alfred Stempfle... a Bavarian-born civil engineer... whose employers... the only manufacturers of inter-oceanic pipelines... in Germany... were transferring him to Johannesburg... as the company's Managing Director... it was early 1939... and she had had no idea... that World War II would be breaking out... by the end of that year... preventing her children from joining them...

It had been her intention... to go on ahead with Papa Alfred... and their three year old son... Hans Reiner... find a suitable house... big enough to accommodate her whole family... and then make arrangements to send for us...

Another reason that we did not sail with them... to South Africa... was that Mummie was reluctant to interrupt our schooling... at the famous ISY... where Prima... Remo and I had been permanent boarders now... for about four years...

The only source of education left... for Caucasians... since the ISY had been compelled to close down... was St. Maur's Catholic Convent School for Girls... for ages up to fifteen... and St. Joseph's Catholic College for Boys... which Remo was attending... both institutions situated down two separate spurs of the Bluff... established even before the "Great Kanto Earthquake and Fire of 1923"...

Since there was no college for girls of Prima's age... she had been enjoying a nice long year's sabbatical... happily whiling away the hours... either at her many friends' homes... slumming in the Japanese villages... or down at the beaches... getting herself a gorgeous suntan...

Which suited her just fine... for any time spent in the same room alone with neurotic... whining Xenia... with her annoying... aggravating pettiness... filled her with loathing... and revulsion...

Except for St. Maur's chapel... badly fissured... their premises had been Miraculously unscathed... by the devastation of gigantic earth tremors... and fire... that had destroyed the whole port city of Yokohama...!

And since both educational facilities... were protected by the Vatican... they were therefore exempt... from having to accede... to the demands of the Japanese government... that their lessons be taught a third in Japanese... serenely continuing to conduct their classes in English... Latin and French... only...

There had been a huge exodus from Japan... of many foreigners... at the end of 1939... hastily vacating their magnificent mansions on the Bluff...

And then... inexplicably... during the past year... I noticed a sudden massive influx... of German army and naval officers... and their wives and children... beginning to occupy... many of those very same stately homes...!

Xenia was the younger of two daughters... of the heroic Russian General Bogoluboff... who had fought in the Russian White Army... against the Bolsheviks... and hoping that his second child... would be the son... that he had always longed for... her father had been bitterly disappointed... to conceive yet another daughter instead... his wife dying during childbirth... as a result of complications that had set in... causing a difficult delivery...

Having spawned no sons... her father had doubly never forgiven his despised daughter... not only for turning out to be yet another girl... but also for being the cause of his beloved wife's death...

Never remarrying... he had made her the brunt of his bitter blame... treating her very strictly... harshly disciplining her like a soldier boy... as she grew up in different military camps... tendering no affection... whatsoever... towards her... Consequently... the poor girl had never known the tender... nurturing love of a mother... and had grown up emotionally starved for affection... and approval...

Now finally having found a man... who really and truly adored her... she had become fiercely possessive... of his affections... fiercely unwilling... to share them with his offspring...

Resentful at her beloved Theo's easygoing... affectionate attitude... towards his children... when she first met him... Xenia had cleverly managed to convince her husband... that he was being far too lenient towards us... and how it was obvious to her... that he was spoiling us rotten...

She expected him to treat his children... just as harshly... as her father had treated her... And the poor man... love-smitten... torn between his genuine affection for us... and his all-consuming passion... for his beloved Xenia... had chosen to acquiessce... to her petty... whining demands... thereby depriving us... of having a normally demonstrative... loving father... from then on... and even more noticeably... once we were all living under the same roof together...

Xenia was a borderline neurotic... and extremely jealous of Prima... taking an instant dislike to her... at first sight... probably because she resembled her husband's beautiful ex-wife... Vera... so much... being endowed with the same Creamy... olive-skinned complexion... and beautiful gypsy looks...

Being ever an observant child... I would often see the flash of resentment... in Xenia's eyes... whenever I caught her glancing at Prima... when she thought nobody was looking...

Remo she hardly bothered with... seldom communicating with him - it was obvious to her... that he was very mature... for his age... since all he seemed to care about... was his music... and painting... and pet snakes... which suited her just fine...

Of all her husband's children... Xenia felt most comfortable with Graziella... the youngest of her step-children... who never exhibited any feelings of resentment... or outright hatred towards her... like her older sister did... Besides... with her markedly pure white skin... golden-blonde hair... and clear blue eyes... she was most definitely no glaring reminder... of her husband's despised ex-wife...

Ever the optimist... where the quirky... uniquely interesting members of my family were concerned... I would frequently tell myself... that Xenia's obvious resentment of Prima... was simply because she resembled our mother so much... and that in time... as she became more secure... in her husband's devoted love... her antipathy towards her... would gradually lessen... and fade away altogether... But alas... it never did...

In her jealousy... and feelings of inferiority... Xenia would frequently exaggerate stories about Prima... that would invariably earn her a whipping from Papa...

She also worked on me... trying... in vain... to fill my ears... with nasty innuendos... about my mother... fluctuating between confiding in me... like a confidante her own age... then suddenly switching... to treating me like a little girl... showering me with compliments and presents... especially after I had just fiercely and loyally... defended my mother's good name...!

This puzzling yo-yo treatment... might have utterly confused a less aware child... But for some strange reason... from the very first moment... that I had laid eyes on Xenia... when I was barely five... when Papa had brought her home one afternoon... introducing her to us... as our new "Auntie Xenia" .. (Mummie was out... at the time... playing tennis... and winning yet another trophy... as usual... at the YCAC)... I distinctly remember instinctively "knowing" ... that this woman... was completely out of her depth... where children were concerned... utterly incapable of understanding... or relating to them naturally... at all...!

I seemed to instantly recognize Xenia's narrow-minded character... her petty nature... as if she were the child... and I the adult...! And in meeting her... deep maternal feelings of compassion... and pity... were awakened in me... for another human being... to a far greater extent... than for anyone before... in my life...! And I felt intensely sorry... for this emotionally fractured... pathetic... shallow soul...

Consequently... she had never had any real power... to influence... or hurt me... because I always instinctively and naturally understood... her pathetically vindictive... mean motivations...

However... many times... I had been innocently responsible... for my beloved sister... getting a thrashing from Papa... because of my soul-deep penchant... for absolute honesty... deeply ingrained in me... from a very early age... For I could not bear to tell a lie...

And Xenia... knowing this about me... would often slyly use this trait... to her advantage... by wheedling out of me... some intimate detail... that Prima had just confided to me... about herself... and her current boyfriend - it was simply uncanny... how she could pinpoint... almost the exact moment... Prima shared something with me - it was almost as if she was right there... in the same room with us..!

Then... as soon as Papa came home from the office... Xenia would maliciously pass the juicy tidbit... on to him... largely expanding on the story... making it sound much worse... than it really was... He... in turn... would fly into a towering rage... whipping Prima mercilessly... with his belt...

Even though she and I... not only slept in the same bedroom... but even in the same bed... together... she never ever turned on me... blaming me for innocently being tricked... into betraying a confidence to Xenia... Nor did she ever intimate to me... that Papa had given her a hiding... not until the eve of my departure from Zurich... Switzerland... bound for Johannesburg... South Africa... to finally be reunited - Praise God - with my adored Mummie... years later... when I was twenty-one...!

But... unto this very day... for the life of me... I cannot understand... why I never saw... or heard anything... whatsoever - neither Papa's voice raised in anger... at Prima... nor the sound of his belt beating her...!!! Nor do I have any idea... where those beatings took place...!

And most incredible of all... to me... was the fact... that Papa was so smitten... with his beloved... that he never even noticed... how evilly devious... and cunning... she was... and by and large... not a very nice person... at all...!

Xenia was born selfishly lazy... and did not seem to care to put in any extra effort... to make our family meals varied... and interesting... and the food served at the evening dinner table by Hana-san our amah... on Xenia's instructions... never varied from...:

Mondays - "Rice & Beef Meatballs in Tomato Sauce" ... Tuesdays - "Fresh Fish"... indigenous to the Japanese waters... off the Pacific coast... Wednesdays - "Cafe Complait" (various cold cuts and imported cheeses... with coffee or tea)... Thursdays - "Beef Briskets and Mashed Potatoes"... Fridays - "Fresh Fish" again... (because Xenia's religious beliefs were of the Russian Orthodox persuasion - she even had her very own shrine... for the Madonna... erected in the corner of her bedroom...a lovely statue... robed in blue... at whose delicate feet... a red votive candle... was always lit - meat was never served on Fridays...)...

On Saturdays - everybody went out... except yours truly... Papa and Xenia to the YCAC Dance... and Prima and Remo to their schoolfriends' houses - no chum of ours... ever came to our house... for a strict rule had been imposed on us children... forbidding us to invite any of them home... ever... Apparently... three children in the house... were more than enough... for Papa and Xenia to tolerate... at any given time...

On Sundays... ever since I could remember... until I was six... and sent away to boarding school... after our pre-dawn physical exercises... in his attic gym... at the crack of dawn... Papa had always taken me hiking with him... into the lush countryside...

And it was wonderfully thrilling... to spend the day... all alone with him... riding the cablecars together... oohing... and aahing... over the spectacular views of mountain peaks... trudging across the rugged mountains of breathtaking Hakone... on the Izu Peninsula... Or through the Mount Rokko range... behind Kobe... armed with our knapsacks... on our backs... Seeing the look of pride in his eyes... whenever I managed to scale some difficult... rocky spot... would make my chest swell with happiness... because I adored him so much...

After a good deal of physical exertion... we would thankfully sit down... in some shady spot... under a tree... to picnic on Cook-san's delicious bento preparations of roast chicken... hard boiled eggs... thin slivers of marinated roast beef... Japanese style cucumber-bean-and-cabbage salad... and fresh fruit... One of my favorites was the "nashi"... a delicious pear... indigenous only to Japan... that has to be tasted... to be believed - delectably translucent... dripping with an abundance of luscious juices...

Then the easy climb down... from the great heights... and home... both of us tired... but feeling marvelously exhilarated...

There were many times... when I would beg Mummie... to join us... But she... totally in love with the game of tennis... much preferred to spend her Sundays... playing in tournaments... at the YCAC... often triumphantly bringing home trophies... from singles and doubles matches... that she had won...

Watching her play... was fascinating to watch... and I would marvel at the ease... with which she handled her raquet... and how standing magnificently tall... at five foot nine... her exceptionally long legs... and long arms... made it so easy for her to move... from place to place... gauging the position... of her opponents... and she was never out of breath... for her strides were so gracefully easy... for her to make... always managing to catch the ball dead center... on her raquet...

And watching her in action... would make me realize... how much I had inherited from her... for I also had exceptionally long legs... and long arms... and I would find myself wondering... whether I would also grow as magnificently tall... as she was...

But ever since Xenia... had come into Papa's life... she had insisted on tagging along with us... on our Sunday hiking trips... terrified of losing his affections... if she showed that she didn't share his passion... secretly hating all manner of sports... and strenuous outdoor activity...

But more than anything else... because she was jealous... of any special time... her beloved Theo might share... with his favorite youngest daughter... exclusive of her... Gritting her teeth... she would gamely endure... all the discomforts of a sore back... and aching muscles...

But she did manage to wheedle her way... as far as eating outdoors was concerned... preferring to eat her meals... in decent restaurants... rather than primitively picnicking outdoors...

So that for years now... whenever they were not abroad... on one of their many business/pleasure trips... around the world... on weekends... they would pick me up... at the ISY... and we would go hiking through the mountains together... minus knapsacks... only now the excursions... into the virginal... remote areas of Japan's hundreds of beautiful National Parks... were spoiled for me... Because we often had to stop climbing... pausing for endless minutes... waiting for poor gasping Xenia... to catch up to our long strides...

But when I noticed how resolutely she was trying to hide the fact... that her lungs were about to burst... from the unaccustomed physical exertion... my heart would go out to her... in affectionate sympathy... proud of her dogged efforts... to keep up with us...

Interesting to note... as we hiked up... and then down... the rugged mountainsides... upon which grew towering evergreen trees... of mighty proportions... all the terrain was very familiar to me... although I had never been to any of these places before...!

Then... Papa and I... feeling exhilarated... from the shared bracing exercise... of the outdoors... ravenously hungry... as the spectacular sun... a huge... round reddish-orange ball... set over the ridge of the mountain... we had just climbed... would take pity on poor Xenia... who was exhausted... and out of breath... panting like a dog.. her legs noticeably trembling...

And Papa... full of concern for his beloved... would take us to dine... at some quaint Japanese inn... whose owners... and family names... and relationhips to each other... I invariably... and instinctively... would know... and recognize... even before they were introduced to us...!!! For it was so obvious to me... that I knew them well... from a previous lifetime...!

Then came the day... when Xenia cleverly convinced Papa... to take us into the mountains... already on a Saturday morning... And after a good eight hours of hiking... she casually mentioned... how nice it would be... to experience sitting in a relaxing hot springs bath... at a nice resort hotel... suggesting that we stay there overnight... and how wonderful it would be... to sleep under the stars... in healthy mountain air..!

And Papa... unable to deny the precious love of his life... anything she wanted... had gladly acquiesced to her heart's desires...

And so it became almost a regular weekend event... for a while... hiking all day Saturday... then staying overnight... at many a hot springs mountain resort inn.... Like the luxurious Fujiya Inn... at Miyanoshita... Nikko... and others too numerous to mention...

Or sometimes... we would even stay overnight... at hot springs seaside resorts... such as around Gamagori... on picturesque Atsumi Bay... with its expanse of clear blue water... going sailing far out on it... then jumping into the cool water... to swim around the boat...

Although I much preferred the mountainous hot springs areas... I would savor every single second of our stay... in those lovely places... surrounded by graceful pine trees... savoring the delicious authentic Japanese food... and having my body immersed... in the soothing... pleasantly warm... curative waters... after a day's strenuous hike... Although... try as I might... I could never quite get used to the stench of sulphur... pervading the atmosphere...

But then... when the time came... for me to go to bed... there would arise the inevitable blight... to my blissful happiness... of staying in a Japanese inn... knowing that I would be tossing... and turning... all night... unable to sleep comfortably... not only on the hard tatami floor... my body unable to relax... but because I was expected to lay my head... on the traditional "Nippon no mokusei no makura" (Japanese wooden pillow)... consisting of a three to four inch high... square-shaped... hard... cotton-tufted wooden block - sheer for my long neck...!

Until the night finally came... when unable to bear the discomfort any longer... the bright idea came to me that... quite possibly... there was a solution to my problem... So I got into the habit... of sneaking back to the baths... when everybody had retired... for the night...

And there I would blissfully sleep the night away... deliriously happy... settling my stark naked body... into a safe... comfortable position... gently cradled... half immersed in the wonderfully soothing... hot... non-sulphuric pool of water... that the inn also thoughtfully provided... for its honored guests...

Or... if the weather was bad... as during the "Nubai" season... where the overcast grey skies... sprinkled gently falling... misty rain... day in... day out... for weeks on end - Xenia no doubt... secretly pleased... that she would not have to endure the ordeal... of climbing impossibly high mountains - we would play parlor games... together... such as "Shanghai Monopoly" ... "Tiddly-Winks"... "Cop It"... "Snakes & Ladders"... "Fiddlesticks"... "Chinese Checkers"... or even "Mah-jongg"... at which Xenia was an expert... and which glaringly showed... how brainless... and stupid I was...

Or else Papa would take us to the movies... and treat us to a dinner afterwards... in some fancy restaurant... in downtown Yokohama... or Kobe... or wherever he and Xenia happened to be living... at the time...

Sometimes... when a particular movie we wanted to see... such as a Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers musical comedy... was being featured... in some neighboring town... Papa would think nothing of taking us on a long train ride... to see it...

Xenia still wanted to observe... some of her traditional Russian customs... and surprised us one day... when we were all living under the same roof together... on the Bluff... by announcing... that she was going to cure her own sauerkraut... and pickle some raw herring... as well...!

This was something new for me... and I didn't want to miss seeing... how it was done... and watched the intriguing process... with fascination...:

First came the packing of the raw cabbage... and the raw herring... in large wooden barrels... liberally mixing them with rock salt... Then Xenia would leave the food to ferment... in the barrels... for a week... one for the raw cabbage... and one for the raw fish... so that the salt could evenly permeate... their meaty textures... softening them...

Then came the shredding of the cabbage... and the slicing of the fish... in thick chunks... with skin intact... adding vinegar... sugar and capers... rubbing the mixture well... into the pliable flesh... then returning them to their respective barrels... for a further month... to ferment properly...

And when she announced... that her handiwork... was now ready for human consumption... and I gingerly tasted pickled raw cabbage... and pickled raw herring... which she had doused in sour cream... for the first time in my life... expecting to gag... I was amazed... at how delicious they tasted...

Then... when our first Easter holidays together... came around... Xenia surprised us again... by preparing the traditional "Pascha"... a delicious creamy concoction... consisting of a high stack of thin crepes... layered inbetween... and covered with "quark"... a thick cream cheese... everything sumptuously sweetened... with glazed strawberries... and other candied fruit - dee...licious... However... I carefully avoided eating the candied fruit... much too sweet for my liking - for some reason... any predominantly sugary food... instantly makes my teeth and head ache... unpleasantly...!

I could never understand... why we had a pantry... between the dining room and kitchen... with shelves on both sides... fully stocked... with all kinds of intriguing... imported canned goods... from Europe... savory and sweet... and why they were never served to any of us... ever...!

Except for the imported Swiss "Hugo" jams and fruit preserves... served to us at breakfast... and "Café Complait..." times... we never got even a taste of the contents... of the exotic labeled cans and jars... such as Norwegian "Riesling Sardines"... Danish "Smoked Eel" ... and "Smoked Oysters" ... from the Baltic Black Sea... extra long narrow cans of "Asparagus Spears" ... and "Wiener Sausages" ... from Sweden... and last but not least... "Escargots" (snails)... "Frog's Legs" ...and "Truffles"... all from France...

"Sakana no hararago"... delicious red caviar... that was not as salty... as the black Beluga... was so plentiful and cheap in Japan... that if we had a taste for it... all we had to do... was take a ten minute walk... down into the adjacent village... called "Kutsu-Kake"... a quaint name meaning "Put On Your Shoes"... and buy some...! And Remo and I often made the trip down there... together... happily walking arm in arm... to buy some... with his pocket money...

Cook-san knew I loved Japanese food... especially "sashimi" (raw salmon or tuna)... and the delicately flavored "sushi"... consisting of stuffed rice... rolled up in spiced "nori" (dried seaweed) strips... that stung your tongue... as it melted on it... which he would often prepare for me...

We would have a guessing game... as to what the secret ingredients inside were... and if I guessed right... I would be promised something very special by him... such as a delicate fan... with a beautiful brilliant blue peacock... painted on it... or a little "ningyo"... or fat roly-poly "domburi" (traditional Japanese dolls)... or a Japanese game...

Wide-eyed with anticipation... I would watch "Nomoyoda-san" - although we always called him Cook-san - deftly whip up some seasoned batter... lickety-split... then whoosh some raw vegetables... individually... into the thick goo... deep-frying the concoction swiftly... in his great big wok... for a minute or so... And then... with a grand flourish... scoop them out... and proudly present to me... a piping hot platter of golden-brown vegetable "Tempura"... being one of my very favorite crunchy Japanese delicacies...

Sometimes... if there was some left-over jumbo sized bay shrimp... from his own food stock... he would tempura them as well for me... grinning and winking happily... as he saw my delight... at this unexpected extra extra treat...

I loved the dear old man very much... because he was always so jolly... laughing over his steaming hot pots and pans... bubbling on the stove... happy as a jaybird... in his element...

There he would stand... expertly brandishing and juggling... four sharp knives... all at the same time...! And he would execute the deed... with such dexterity... that when I watched his polished performance... ever his captive audience... utterly spellbound... my eyes would nearly pop out of my head... And my amazed... goggle-eyed reaction... would thrill him to bits...

Now... on the eve of our departure... listening to Papa's grave words... becoming very pensive... my sensitive heart... beginning to pound... realizing how much I had grown to love... the extreme contrast... of the Japanese... and European experiences... of my life... while growing up... living in my beloved Nippon... I wondered how I could possibly give it all up...

By the same token... I wondered how our estranged family would manage... coping in the uncertain... possibly dangerous future... when we were most certainly not... by and large... demonstrably caring... and nurturing... of each other... in the true sense...

For it was very true... that I knew very little about Papa's background... especially his childhood... and about his parents... except that they had died in a car accident... when he was twelve... and that he had been raised by his spinster aunt... and roamed around Europe... as a singing troubadour... when he was a teenager... and that he had carved out a prosperous import/export empire... when he was only twenty-one...

By the same token... I also knew absolutely nothing... about my mother... and her background... except that she was French/Italian... by birth... and had married Papa... when she was only sixteen years old...!

And I had to wait... until I was twenty-one... to finally learn... that my mother was actually a Countess... descended from nobility... and that her family... had founded the city of Turin... in Northern Italy... endowing it with their name...!

And that... as far as Theodore Rau... was concerned... his parents had been killed in an automobile accident... when he was only eight... and not twelve... and that he had been very strictly brought up... by his mother's spinster sister... who was a cold woman... resenting the boy... who had been suddenly thrust upon her... to take care of... and never showed him any affection... whatsoever...

And I finally understood... why Papa was not naturally physically demonstrative... always embarrassed... at any display of affection towards him... For he had not grown up... surrounded by loving... nurturing parents... but on the contrary... by a cold-blooded aunt... who obviously did not care for children... and never let him forget it... Maybe that is why he was so harshly strict with me... echoing the behavior of his aunt...!

And I found myself wondering again... on that eve of November 8th ... 1941... my very last night in Japan... how I would be able to survive... in the future... without all those dear and familiar places... so near and dear to me... all those beautiful mountains... that I had happily hiked across... feeling so very much at home... those beautiful peninsulas... I had sailed... and enjoyed swimming in... all those delicious delicacies... I had savored... in the uniquely Japanese "Ryori no Shikata (cuisine) ... that I had become accustomed to... these past ten years... and what the future now held in store for me... in alien lands... beyond the shores of my beloved Nippon... Land Of The Rising Sun...

CHAPTER THREE

OUR VERY LAST NIGHT... IN MY BELOVED NIPPON... LAND OF THE RISING SUN...!

The sound of Papa clearing his throat... once again... snaps me back to the present... on this the eve of November 8th 1941... and from the serious tone of his voice... I realize that he is about to say something of extreme importance to us... and perk up my ears... listening closely...

Gravely looking around the table... at each one of us... with his brilliant emerald green eyes... he clears his throat... yet once again... and seriously urges us... to listen very carefully... to his instructions..:

"As soon as dinner is over... and Hana-san has cleared the table... you are all to quietly go upstairs... and sort through your belongings... once again... making sure you pack only two suitcases each... And since it is now the month of November... and we will probably be heading into some very cold weather... once we leave Japan... don't forget to include some winter clothing... as well... in addition to your summer wear... already previously packed..."

Papa emphasizes how imperative it is... that we give Hana-san the impression... that we are preparing... for a short holiday only... and that we will be vacationing... at a beach resort... in Nagasaki... while waiting for official permission... to leave Japan...!

He further orders us... to strictly refrain... from packing any of our books... records... games... toys... or any other treasured mementos... and giving me a piercing glance... and an admonishing finger... suggests that I harden my heart... against the temptation to do so... no matter how precious... or small the item...

Without saying so... I knew he was referring to last year's Christmas present... my very favorite book... "Arabian Nights"... all about the beautiful Scheherazade... (whom incidentally... I have often been compared to...!)... about to be beheaded... and who... in beguiling the sultan... by amusing him with one thousand exciting tales... entrancing and delighting him... so cleverly... makes him forget all about having her killed..!

Her fascinating stories... beautifully illustrated... in vibrant colors... exquisitely drawn... never ceased to dreamily transport me... out of Japan... into the exotic Middle Eastern lands of romantic mystery... where all the heroes... were always dark... handsome... fearless... and chivalrous... and all the damsels in distress... breathtakingly beautiful... and kind of heart...

Papa tells us how terribly important it is... to act natural... around the servants... letting them see... that we were simply happy... to be going off on a seaside holiday... nothing more... confiding that he has a sneaking suspicion... that Hana was being forced... by the Miharashibashi District Police... to spy on us... reporting our activities to them weekly... because he had caught a glimpse of her coming out of their headquarters... a few weeks ago...!

Papa looks at Remo... smiling with a certain grimness... and says..:

"God Willing... your dream of a few weeks ago... in which an Angel of God Told you... that you would be leaving Japan on the 9th of November... which is tomorrow... will come true after all...! I am going to do my utmost... to settle up all my business affairs here... tomorrow morning... as expeditously... and as inconspicuously... as possible... also arranging for all our belongings left behind... to be stored in a godown... hopefully without arousing the suspicions of the police..."

Then sighing heavily... he continues...:

"I thank God... that they gave me permission yesterday... to go off on a two week holiday... with my family... as long as it is in Japan... I suppose... after three months of daily... gruelling questioning... they have finally taken pity on me...!"

As soon as Hana came into the dining room... to clear the dining table... there was a sudden awkward silence... around the room... and fearing that she would become suspicious... I suddenly blurted out to her... in rapid-fire Japanese... that I was so happy... that we were going off to the seaside... for a nice holiday tomorrow... and would she please take care of Kitty... and Kissa... and her children... Mickey... and Cleopatra... Roustabout and the rest... while we were away... as well as water all the flowers in the garden... and hardly stopping to catch my breath... I told her how much I would miss her... even for such a short time...!

Papa reacted startled... at first... at my sudden outburst... but then saw the wisdom... of his youngest daughter... spouting her enthusiasm to her Amah... in such a spontaneously normal way...

Nodding to me encouragingly... I could see by the expression of approval... in his bright green eyes... that he was very pleased... that I had saved an awkward moment... from becoming a possibly dangerous situation for us... making my chest swell with pride... at the fact that I... his brainless "dumb cluck"... had managed to please him... in such an intelligent way...

To everybody's great relief... Hana reacted very naturally... gravely bowing low... expressing her happiness for us... sincerely wishing us a wonderful time... at the seaside... and asking shyly... whether she could "dozo" (please)... see us off at the "Eki" (railway station)...!

And Papa... very relieved that she suspected nothing out of the ordinary... heartily expressed his hope... that she would accompany the family... and wave "Sayonara" to us... from the train platform..!

Beaming with pleasure... Hana began silently and swiftly to clear the dishes... off the table... bowing deferentially... as usual... to each of us in turn... before retiring with them to the kitchen... through the walk-through pantry...

As soon as Hana-san... was out of sight... with a silent nod in our direction... Papa gestured for us to get up and go upstairs... and do as we had been told... adding that Xenia... meanwhile... would be busy... spending the night in their room... sewing all their valuables... into their clothing... and would be repacking for them... so he expected Prima to supervise Graziella... with her sorting out... and repacking... as well as her own...

So saying... Papa dismissed us... and in obediently following Prima up the stairs... headed for our shared bedroom... with Remo going on further upstairs... to his attic room... my heart started to hammer in my chest... and I got very excited... at all the "cloak and dagger" secrecy... going on in our lives now... And I could hardly contain myself... dying for the "grand adventure" to begin...

Prima was very relieved... as she busied herself... repacking our suitcases... at how easily amenable I was... to leaving my favorite books... games and toys behind... not making any fuss at all...

Not even about my Shirley Temple doll... which dear Mrs. Mendoza... our Spanish/Hawaiian housekeeper... at the ISY... had transformed into a beautiful standing vision of loveliness... as a flamenco dancer... all dressed up in a flaring Spanish costume... of brilliant red... which reached all the way down to her feet... to hide the doll's broken legs... which her daughter Eileen... in a fit of jealous rage... resentful over the special bond... her mother and I shared... had smashed...!

From a very early age... it had always been very easy for me... to share my belongings... and even give up any of my toys and games... to any of my friends... Material possessions had never had a hold over me... making me want to hang on to them - on the contrary - if some toy or game of mine... gave someone else pleasure... I was more than happy to relinquish it... with no regrets of any kind... whatsoever... afterwards... For me it was always as if...: "Out of sight..." ... most definitely... immediately "out of mind..."

There was very little rest for me that night... even though I was physically exhausted... Besides... I was much too keyed up to sleep... mulling over in my mind... the kinds of spectacular adventures awaiting me... in the very near future...

Furthermore... it was pitch black outside... because of the black-out... just enforced... that very day... by the Japanese government... who also were imposing a six o'clock curfew... this most unusual experience... a first for me... greatly adding to my sense of excitement...

At long last... I would be not only sailing on an ocean liner... but embarking on a voyage... that I would be able to remember... and recall... in the years to come... unlike my very first two experiences... of traveling by sea... across the world...

The first sea voyage... had been from Genoa Italy... where I was born... to Peking China... when I was but a few months old... and the second... about two years later... from China to Japan... in which country... I had lived ever since... having no recollections... whatsoever... of that second ocean crossing... as a two year old...

Now the prospect of being able to see other fascinating countries... observing their interesting... different cultures... besides those... so familiar to me... of Japan... for the first time in my life... was... to say the least... quite overwhelmingly thrilling...

As I lay in our big... king size shared bed... realizing that this would be the very last night... that I would be sleeping in it... snuggled cozily next to my big sister... and by the same token... the very last time... that I would be sleeping in the same room... in the same house... the enormity of the fact... sank into my consciousness... with a jolt...!

And I began to cry... suddenly sick to my soul... to be leaving behind... what had become so dear and familiar to me... during three incarnations... that I knew of... as a Japanese... And now in this one... living in my beloved Nippon - Land of the Rising Sun - for the past ten years or so... as a Caucasian...

Desperately trying to get rid of the gnawing ache... deep inside my chest... I reminded myself of the fact... that there would be no more painfully embarrassing nightly incidents of... while fast asleep... either literally kicking poor Prima with my feet... until she fell out of bed... or persistently and rhythmically... kicking the wall ... between our parents' bedroom...!

This would usually wake Papa up... enraged at having his sleep disturbed... but upon coming into our room to investigate... he would see that his youngest daughter... was not kicking the wall... on purpose... to annoy him out of spite... because he had chastised her about something that evening... but had been obliviously... and systematically... kicking the wall... in her sleep... even while he stood right there at the foot of her bed... watching her..!

Realizing that she was obviously deep in never-never land... ly fast asleep... probably off in Heaven... for another nightly visit... as she was so fond of announcing... ever since she was a tyke... thus impossible to wake up... would make Papa feel sheepishly foolish... to have become so angered...

And he would leave our room... red-faced... emotionally deflated... wondering to himself... puzzled for the umpteenth time... why it was that Graziella never seemed to suffer any injury... to her feet... whatsoever... with all the prolonged... forceful kicking... she did with them... on their hard wall...!

"...And remember the "chamber of horrors" downstairs - you won't have to go through that terrible ordeal... ever again..."... I reminded myself further...

And in a flash... the ache inside me was gone... and now I could not wait to leave the room... the house... the city of Yokohama... and the country of Japan... as quickly as ever humanly possible...!

CHAPTER FOUR

MORE POIGNANT REMINISCENCES... ON THE NIGHT OF NOVEMBER 8TH ... 1941..

.

But as I lay... wide awake in bed... for the very last time... in our house on the Bluff... on this 8th night of November... 1941... I realized that... apart from the empty void... left in my soul... from no longer being happily able... to sing hymns... and psalms... as a proud member of the church choir... I longed for those special times... of weekly evening rehearsals when... after a delicious home-cooked supper... lovingly prepared... by the ladies of the parish... devoured ravenously in the rectory... with our stomachs contentedly full... our eighty-person strong... quite famous International Choir... often invited to sing on radio broadcasts... consisting of adults... and children... of various ages... and nationalities... would gustily sing our hearts out...

Now... alas... no more... because the English clergymen... had long since been forced... to hastily return to their homeland... at the outbreak of war... about two years ago... as had most of the choir members... to their respective countries... and consequently... no more Services... were being held... at the Anglican Christ Church of England...

The building of rough-hewn stone... now proudly stood... cold... empty... and silent... high up on the Bluff...

Now too... I would miss terribly... the opportunity to blissfully sing... my fervent Praises... to Almighty God... my Heavenly Father... at the top of my considerable lungs... with only my Angel Friends... as my audience... as the bracing ocean breezes... rushed up at me... whipping my glorious... loose... crowning gold glory about... as I pedalled my bicycle vigorously... way up high along the Bluff... on my way to St. Maur's...

There was a time... not too long ago... when these magnificent homes... had been rented... by a motley collection of families... of all different nationalities... whose children I had known very well... going to school at the ISY with them... and I had been in the habit of gaily waving... to the lovely "ladies of the manor" ... as they stood smiling... in their various doorways... and waving back at me... their slim bodies draped in their elegant... bright robes... some of them in colorful kimonos... or walking sedately about outside... in their spectacular gardens... carefully picking their exotic blooms of crimson... pink... lilac and yellow... the beautiful flowers... blossoming in colorful profusion... everywhere...

These very ladies of the manor... of all different nationalities... had been the concerned mothers... who had come to me... asking me for help... in how to handle their unruly... rebellious children... when I was only seven...!!!

But gradually... these beautiful mansions... became occupied... more and more... by German military families... and as I cycled past them... I began to notice... more and more... in passing... how unattractively grim-faced... the German "hausfrauen" were... by comparison... and in total contrast... - I could never... by any stretch of the imagination... think of these heavyset... frumpy matrons... as "ladies" ... let alone call them... "ladies of the manor" ...

Observing these German mothers standing stiffly... in their various doorways... their shapeless figures... dressed in drab... unappealing colors... as they saw their smartly resplendent... arrogant husbands... off to work... clicking their highly polished black boots... as they bid their wives goodbye... in the now familiar... "Heil Hitler" salute...

Their altogether forbidding manner... instinctively did not induce me... to spontaneously wave to the German wives... in friendly greeting... and I deliberately avoided... any eye contact with them... as an increasing feeling of foreboding... crept along my bones... with each passing morning...

And in Japanese newsreels... at the cinema... we would often see reports... showing German officers... in Japanese factories... training the military... helping them... in building their warplanes... or help train the Banzai Nippon no Heitaisan... (soldiers) ... the officers dressed to the hilt... in their shiny... immaculate uniforms...

It was becoming increasingly clear to me... that I could no longer ignore... the terrible reminder of War - not when it was so obvious... in Japanese newsreels... where... proudly showing the military camaraderie... that existed between the Third Reich... and the Imperial Army... of the Emperor Hirohito... the German officers... assisted in training the infantry Nippon no Hoheitai ... (the infantry) ... at their military training bases...

And that its promise... of worldwide devastation... was becoming ever increasingly uncomfortable... and closer and closer to home... as I rapidly approached puberty...

CHAPTER FIVE

THE PROPHETIC DAY OF DELIVERANCE... ON NOVEMBER 9th 1941...!

It seemed as if I had hardly closed my eyes... when the sunlight... streaming into the bedroom... pierced through my closed eyelids... bringing me instantly wide awake and alert... eager for the grand global adventure to begin...

And Prima was very pleased that I was so eager to get going... and infected by my enthusiasm... was soon anxious herself... for Papa to come home... so that we could all go off to the Yokohama Eki together... for the last time...

I went next door to our neighbors... to say goodbye... and when roly-poly Mrs. Murray opened the door... greeting me with twinkling button brown eyes... and a warm friendly smile... as usual... I could not for the life of me... make myself lie to her... and began to pray to my Heavenly Father... inside me... for His Help...

But before I could open my mouth... she was bustling me into her cluttered parlor... chattering away... saying that she was so glad that I had stopped by for a visit... because she and her son... who was in his fifties... and a professor of languages... at the University... were about to leave Japan... within a few days... to go back home to Wales... and she wanted to give me my Christmas present now...

And hardly stopping for breath... she bent down... her head disappearing behind a couch... and all that was visible of her... was her ample bottom jutting out...

After a moment... she heaved herself back onto her feet... straightening up with effort... panting... and with a flourish... produced a large parcel... gaily wrapped in colorful... shiny Xmas paper... with scenes on it... of Santa and his reindeer... riding through the skies... across chimney roof tops... the box tied with a huge red bow...

And without letting me get a word in edgewise... in a flurry of excitement... she urged me to open it... then and there... because she wanted to see the expression on my face... when I saw what it was... that she and her kindly son... had asked Santa Claus... to bring early this year... especially for me...!

She was so warm... and kindhearted... and motherly... that I often wished... that I was a little baby... so that I could simply cuddle up to her huge bosom... where I knew it would be snug... and safe... and warm... and let myself be rocked to and fro... but of course... I knew that I was not only too old to... but much too tall to... as well... Xenia was so brittle... and artificial... by comparison... and I could never imagine myself... cradled in her arms...

Mrs. Murray was so effusive... and eager to please me... that I did not have the heart to tell her... that since the last memorable Christmas holidays... when I was ten... Papa had told me quite bluntly... on that Christmas Eve... that I was now old enough to be told... that Santa Claus actually did not exist... and that it was he and Xenia... and not Santa Claus... who bought all our Christmas presents for us...! And it had been a terrible shock... to have my wonderful illusions shattered... so abruptly... and so cruelly...

Mrs. Murray was my idea of Mrs. Santa Claus... with her fat rosy red cheeks... and twinkling... inquisitive... perfectly round brown eyes... and although I hated the idea... of opening a Christmas present early... I found myself relenting...

Now curiously eager... to find out what was inside the large parcel... which I noticed did not rattle... I proceeded to very carefully unwrap the pretty paper - loath to tear it - and was bowled over... to see before my eyes... a huge Mickey Mouse coloring book..!

I squealed with delight - she could not have made me happier - and I thanked her... from the bottom of my heart... gleefully anticipating long hours on board ship... coloring in my favorite Walt Disney characters... such as Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs... Mickey and Minnie Mouse... Pluto... Goofy... Donald Duck and his mischievous nephews... Huey... Dewey and Louie... and his girlfrind Daisy... and all the other adorable cartoon folk...

As I left her house... after a close... warm embrace... of Goodbye... and wishing each other God's Richest Blessings... for the rest of our lives... skipping happily... the huge... heavy book rewrapped... and tucked securely under my arm... I suddenly realized... that I had never got a chance to tell dear Mrs. Murray... about our own plans... to leave "for a short seaside holiday"... and thanked God for His Help... In Seeing to it... that I be spared... having to lie to the dear old lady...

When I entered our front door... and saw my two suitcases standing next to Prima's... my heart swelled with joy... that finally my sister and I would be joined... side by side... embarking on the greatest adventure of our lives... sailing across the oceans together...

So often I had longed to be with Prima... when she went out with her friends... but knew that I was too young for her "crowd"... And I would feel like the unwelcome kid sister... tagging along... whenever Xenia... out of spite... forced her to take me with her...

Most of Prima's... Remo's and my friends from the ISY... were long gone by now... most of them having already left Japan... in the huge exodus of 1939... and now that we... the Rau family... ourselves... were leaving... I would finally have her all to myself... at long last - I hoped...

We were all ready and packed... by the time Papa came home at three o'clock sharp... in a taxi... and he was very pleased... to see that his family was organized and ready... everything going according to his plan...

And as we filed out of the front door of our house... for the very last time... our suitcases in hand... Papa noticed the gaily wrapped parcel... under my arm... and stopping me... asked what I thought I was doing...

And when I blithely and happily explained... that it was the Murray's Christmas present for me... and how I hoped to be coloring it on the train... and on board ship... he dashed all my happy anticipation to smithereens... by informing me bluntly... that I would have no time to play on board ship... because he had hired a tutor for me... for I had missed far too much schooling already..!

As I stood there in a daze... rooted to the spot... digesting his awful words of doom... he snatched the precious package from under my arm... and proceeded to go back into the house with it... uttering a curt reminder that... when he had said no toys... books or games... were to be packed... he had meant exactly that... I pleaded with his stiff receding back... that I would be happy to carry it with me... at all times... (even though it was heavy...) ... but he ignored me...

And with an abrupt retort... that it would be joining all our other belongings... which would be stored into godowns... at a soko (warehouse) ... by Yoshito... a faithful employee of his... he broke my heart... by disappearing into the house with my treasured coloring book... in his hand... emerging a short while later... empty-handed...

And without so much as glancing in my direction... standing there crestfallen... and in shock... as if turned to stone... he impatiently urged us to get a move on... and get into the waiting taxi... as it was high time that we were on our way...

Even though I had been subjected to Papa's abrupt... insensitive actions of cruelty... for many years... I could never quite get used to them... and each time it happened... it was as if it was happening... for the first time... and my reaction each time... would invariably be the same sense of shock... and the same heartrending feeling of wrenching pain... and disappointment...

Interestingly enough... throughout the years... from November 1941 to 1945... while our belongings were in storage... every now and then... Yoshito would get a sixth sense... to transfer our crates... from one go-down to another... and every time he did so... that "soko" would invariably suffer a bombardment... and be destroyed...!

So that... when Papa and Xenia returned to Japan again... after the War... in 1947... thanks to Yoshito... and his uncanny intuition... they were able to recover everything... that they had kept in storage... throughout the war years...! And not only that... but they simply reoccupied their old house again... which... unlike all the other houses on the Bluff... which had suffered severe damage... in air raids... Miraculously missed being bombed...!

Soon we were all crowded in the "takushii" (taxi)... on our way to catch the train for Nagasaki... with Hana-san very puzzled... that her dear Sera-chan... was suddenly so unhappy... taking great pains... to tell her not to worry... patting her on her hands... resting on her lap... reassuring her... that she would take very good care of Kitty... and all the other cats... while she was away...

Suddenly ashamed... that I had been acting like such a baby... spoiling this great day of adventure for myself - after all... surely that was not the only Mickey Mouse coloring book in the world... and there were bound to be others... when we reached America - I deliberately pushed away the disappointment... in not being allowed to take it with me... and concentrated my attention on Hana... whose name meant "flower"... instead...

Looking slightly down at her - standing... she reached up to my shoulders... being unusually tall for a Japanese - I suddenly felt sad... to be leaving her behind...

Dear Hana... who was so embarrassed... about her soft heart... always trying to hide it behind a gruff manner... Knowing my penchant for Japanese food... she had always been in the habit... of leaving some tasty tidbit for me... on the pantry shelf...

But whenever I thanked her for her kindness and thoughtfulness... she would always feign ignorance... full of denials... vehemently proclaiming... that she had done absolutely nothing to be thanked for... scolding that she did not have time to waste... in giving me special favors... and that it must have been Cook-san - even though I had caught her in the act of hastily setting down a tasty dish on the pantry shelf once..! She simply could not bear for anybody to allude to her generous nature... to her face - calling anything that smacked of benevolence... a denigrating flaw... in the character of a "yoi Nippon no onna" (good Japanese woman)...!

It had been painfully difficult for me... to say goodbye to Cook-san... Hana's jovial husband... having to pretend that it was going to be "Sayonara"... for only two short weeks... when it was... in fact... to be for forever

Dear Cook-san... who had never been too busy... to make his little Sera-chan... her favorite "chichi supu" (milk soup)... ever since she was a little tyke... whipping up a concoction of milk and flour in a flash... before lunchtime for her... conspiratorially giggling... that it was to be their "sukoshi himitsu" (little secret)...

The fact that Cook-san... for once... was in a rare bad mood that day... having quarreled worse than usual with his wife Hana... that morning... made it a little easier for me to say "Sayonara" to him... thanking him for all the wonderful delicious meals... he had cooked... for the members of the Rau family... for so many years... and for how well he had looked after our tummies... buying only the best quality meats and fish... vegetables and fruit... for our table...

Kissing his fat red cheek lightly... the tears springing to my eyes... as I realized... that I was never going to see his jolly jovial self again (he always reminded me of what a Japanese Santa Claus might look like)... nor his eye-popping... incredible... dexterous knife-juggling performances... ever again... I softly said "Sayonara" ... to the dear old man...

Now Hana's words broke into my reverie... as we drove to the Eki... and I noticed that she was keeping up a nervous chatter... urging me to be good... not to stay out in the sun too long... reminding me... how badly I had blistered the last time... having to be bandaged from head to foot... like an Egyptian mummie... to eat everything on my plate... and to chew my food well... and for the umpteenth time... reassuring me that she would take good care of all the cats... promising to shower them with lots of love...

And just as the taxi came to a halt... in front of the Eki... she clutched my arm... and whispered shyly... startling me..:

"Dozo... Sera-chan... kioku suru anata no Hana-san... kanojo ni wasureru..!" (please remember your Hana-san... don't forget her...!)

I was so relieved... that we had reached our destination... and not a moment too soon... as far as I was concerned... because by this time... with all the sincere caring... and genuine concern... Hana had been showing me... I was feeling so guilty at our deception... that I had to use every ounce of resistance... not to blurt out the whole truth then and there... telling my dear... sweet... kind Hana-san... that this was going to be "Sayonara" forever... and not just for two weeks

I simply could not... for the life of me... imagine her... in the role of a spy for the police... finding it exceedingly hard to believe such a monstrous possibility... believing the very idea to be preposterous - surely Papa had been mistaken...

As we all walked into the Eki together... with Prima and Remo going on ahead... to buy some magazines for the trip... and poor Xenia and Hana-san... lagging behind... trying desperately to keep up with Papa's and my long strides... Hana mincing along... her getas clacking... and Xenia panting... taking hurried short steps... her high-heeled shoes clicking... my senses were struck by the excitement of all the activity... going on in the train station... my ears suddenly assailed... by the deafening noise of the hustle and bustle... all around me...

All I could see were crowds and crowds of people... jostling each other... running helter-skelter... with one single thought in mind...: to reach their respective platforms on time... to get to the safety of their homes... before the newly imposed six o'clock curfew...

And the confusion of the "akabos" (red-caps)... loaded down... and up to their chins... in bags and cases... running haltingly with their luggage carts... in a desperate hurry... to deposit them on their respective trains... and on time... was all very overwhelming and exciting...

Suddenly I found myself standing all alone... and realized that Papa had shouted...: "Stay put" to me... and I barely caught a glimpse of his back... as he hurried away... the milling... scurrying crowd of bodies... quickly swallowing him up... with poor diminutive Xenia in tow... desperately trying... in her ridiculously high stiletto heels... to keep up with her husband's long purposeful strides... her backside sticking up and out... the comical sight of which... made an involunttary smile... creep to the corners of my lips...

Soon after we entered the Eki... with Prima and Remo making a bee-line for the kiosk... to buy themselves some reading matter... so that with Papa and Xenia now gone also... left just Hana and me... standing on the platform... waiting for our train to arrive...

But then... in the middle of all the noisy commotion... it suddenly dawned on me... that Hana-san was no longer beside me - she too had vanished into the swirling crowd around us..!

"Oh my God..."... I panicked... my heart thumping to beat the band... chewing my nails nervously... "Hana-san knows... we didn't fool her after all... she's gone off to summon the dreaded "keisatsu" (police)...!"

Frantic with fear... not knowing what to do... feeling very much alone... exposed and vulnerable... expecting a horde of "keikan" (policemen)... to come thundering down the platform... to arrest me any second... I stood... quivering with trepidation... my imagination running wild...

Supposing the rest of my family had already been detained by the "keisatsu"... they were gone an awfully long time... and come to think of it... I hadn't seen hair nor hide of Prima or Remo... ever since we had arrived at the Eki... either...!

I was in an almighty quandary... not knowing whether to make a run for it... or "stay put"... as Papa had ordered me to... and I quaked in my shoes... my legs trembling something fierce...

Standing there... undecided... a quivering bundle of nerves... I was very startled... when... from behind me... I suddenly had thrust under my right arm... a large blue and red rubber beach ball... and a small bright red pail and yellow spade... into my left hand...! And turning around... I was very surprised to see Hana-san... shyly looking up at me... from between her eyelashes... blushing... telling me that they were my "kyuka no genzai" (going away) presents...

Noticing the appropriateness of Hana's gifts... thanking her... bowing gravely... with...: "Arigato-gozaimasu... Hana-san..."... but secretly sighing with enormous relief... restraining myself with great effort... from giving her a huge hug and kiss... - displays of affection in public... are simply not done in Nippon - it dawned on me... that Hana had believed our story... about a seaside vacation... after all...! Whew... what a relief...

But then... very deeply touched... and moved... by Hana's unexpected gesture of love towards me... feeling a lump rise up in my throat... again hating myself for being forced to deceive her... throwing all caution to the winds... I gave her a great big smile...

And putting my arms around her slender body... gave her a loud smacking kiss on her cheek... right there in front of everybody...

Startled... she blushed to the roots of her now slightly graying black hair... and tittered something unintelligible... darting nervous glances about her... in confusion at this unexpected... unaccustomed public display of affection... from her precious Sera-chan... But I felt that I had no option... I had to keep our parting light...

...And catching sight of the familiar figure of the "urite" (vendor)... who could always be found frequenting the "ekis"... with his huge tray slung around his neck... containing all kinds of ready-to-go foods... shouting out his wares... in a rhyming sing-song voice... as he patrolled up and down the platforms...:

"O-yaku... dom... buri - O-sushi bento sandoitchi... gyu...nyu..."...

pointed him out to Hana... laughing at his last two syllables... "gyu-nyu" ... meaning "milkman"... always sung in two of the lowest... protracted basso profundo notes...

Finally... the whole family was all reassembled again... and when the train chugged into the station... screeching to a halt... I practically had to be yanked on board... Xenia... suddenly most anxious to get going... herding me into our compartment... with an urgent..:

"Harry aap Grad-zela... yur so slaw...!"

I tried desperately to accommodate her... as she pushed me from behind... hanging on to the big ball held tightly under one arm... and holding the little beach bucket... with its spade... in my other hand...

As the wheels of the train... suddenly let out an awful groaning screech... and the train lurched... starting to move... I was thrown off balance... falling hard against the seat... momentarily stunned... the ball flying out from under my arm... bouncing hard against Xenia's bent over derriere - an utterly perfect bull's eye...!

She was preoccupied in making her seat more comfortable... and when the ball hit her... smack dab in the middle of her uppity backside... she let out a startled yelp... and quickly looking around... glared at me accusingly... And all I could do was smile sheepishly... shrugging my shoulders...

I quickly regained my composure... not wanting to miss saying goodbye to dearest Hana-san... And leaning out of our window... gazing down at her dear sweet face... one last time... realizing with a heart-wrenching pang... that this was to be "Sayonara" ... forever... I grasped her small hand in mine... holding on to it tightly... unable to get a word out... my throat suddenly choked up with emotion...

But as the train started to pick up speed... I realized... with a start... that we were actually on our way... and this was really goodbye... Somehow managing to croak...:

"Sayonara Hana-san..."

I let go of her hand reluctantly... at the last possible moment...

Then saw her quickly take out a small white wisp of a hankie... from her voluminous kimono sleeve...

And as the engine moved faster... I saw her waving to us with it...

Leaning as far out of the window as I could... I saw her rapidly getting smaller and smaller... until my last glimpse of her... through the blur of tears in my eyes... was a small square of white... still slowly waving up and down... in the distance...

"Sayonara... dear... sweet Hana-san... may God Bless you and Cook-san... and His Angels Watch over you both... forever..."... I prayed silently to myself... the tears now running down my cheeks unchecked - I knew that I would miss them terribly...

And as the train sped towards the port city of Nagasaki... I became lulled by the rhythm of its engine... which seemed to be saying..:

"I'll get you there - I'll get you there - I'll get you there...!"

CHAPTER SIX

SOME MEMORIES OF MY HAPPY/HELLISH... ALMOST TEN YEARS OF LIFE... GROWING UP IN JAPAN...!

To me... the train ride... which was rapidly steering me towards my unknown future... was so exciting... and also so sad... as I watched the countryside of my beloved Nippon... Land of the Rising Sun... go by... for the very last time...

Realizing that... now gone too... and forever... was the daily hum-drum routine... of the past two years... except for the past three months... of being house bound...

Getting up early... every morning... on weekdays... washing myself... brushing my teeth... putting on my ISY school uniform... braiding my loose golden tresses... the one feature about my gangly... too tall self... that I really loved... back into loathed pigtails... which Papa insisted upon...

And after breakfasting heartily... because my appetite for food... was always voracious... arduously dragging my bike... up the steep hill... flanked by dense trees... to the upper Bluff... which was always an unpleasant strain... on my weak heart...

But then... after finally reaching the top... would come my richest reward... all sense of heavy heart beats... and boredom gone... as I hastily undid my odious braids...

For I never ever tired... of happily cycling... along the magnificent stretch of the Bluff... overlooking the Pacific Ocean... the ocean breezes... ruffling my now loose... richly thick... wavy... long... crowning glory of gold... which almost reached down to my waist... feeling ecstatically free... as I joyously sang Praises... to my Heavenly Father... at the top of my lungs... my Creator... Whom I had always worshipped... and adored... with every fiber of my being... ever since I could remember...

But when I came to the International Cemetery... on the ocean side... to my right... where many an important figure... who had helped Japan come into the trade... and technology... of the Western World... shaping her destiny... was buried... I would stop singing... stop cycling briefly... bow my head... out of respectful deference... and offer up a solemn prayer... for the many restless souls... lying there... in their resting places... whom I "knew..." deep inside me... were still not at peace...

Then cycling on... once more... I would pass a stretch of magnificent homes... which could only be occupied... by a lease agreement... with the Japanese government... and never bought outright... by any foreigners...!

Then passing the wide dirt road... that led down to my left... I would wistfully gaze down at the ISY... (International School of Yokohama) ...where I had spent such interestingly formative years... from the age of six to ten... mingling with a fascinating collection of children... of all ages... and nationalities...

Cycling along... a little further on to my right... rose the distinctive... stately structure... of the Anglican Christ Church of England... who owned... and operated the ISY... and whose chief administrator ... my dearly loved Reverend Reginald Percival Pott... who had come to Japan... as a young man... to teach the Shinto Nipponese... converting many of them to Christianity... was the Principal... where I had spent so many joyously happy Sundays... as part of its church choir... lustily singing Praises... to my Beloved Heavenly Father...

Then a little ways further... on the ocean side... were the Public Swimming Baths... where I had happily splashed... on many an afternoon... in summer... competing in swim meets... often winning... probably because of my exceptionally long legs...

Then round the bend... past the imposing General Hospital... recently bombed... and the source of false... nasty... anti-British propaganda... so cleverly broadcast... and believed... the government telling their gullible citizens... that all those white-skinned people... who spoke English... were not to be trusted...

So that even my Nippon no tomodachis... (Japanese friends) ... mostly children of Papa's business associates... and employees... whom I had known... and loved... ever since I was a tot... had suddenly turned against me... jeeringly cat-calling... labelling me as a "fuketsuna teki no gaikokujin"!!! (dirty enemy foreigner)... and even throwing stones at me...!

Then just before the Bluff ended... sloping down towards the overcrowded Japanese village... down below... and the hustling... bustling... port city of Yokohama... beyond it... hastily rebraiding my hair... turning to my left... I would be free-wheeling down the steep spur... to St. Maur's Catholic Convent School for Girls... which I had been attending now... for the past two years... ever since shortly after the ISY... had been forced to close down... because of the War... going on... close to sixteen months now...

Daily pedalling my bicycle... along the beautiful Bluff... with my hair gloriously free... and loose... was one of the highlights... of my day... and quite one of my most happiest... and exhilarating of experiences... on my way to St. Maur's...

Once there... I would first participate... with the pious sisters of diverse nationalities... in their daily morning prayers... called the "Matins"... in their chapel... the atmosphere so beautifully quiet... and peaceful...

There... in the stillness of the chapel... I could join in with these kindred souls of spirit... in glorious... uplifting communication... with our beloved Heavenly Father... Whom I fervently... and unconditionally loved... ever since I could remember... with all my heart and soul... without anybody ever having told me about Him...!

Then... sitting in class... being taught by fascinating nuns... with their intriguing accents... in noticing each one's particular uniqueness... seeing how her face... framed in its snow-white wimple... in stark contrast to the blackness of her habit... radiating with an inner... peaceful glow... seemed particularly to be filled... with the Loving Grace of God...

And then... when the day of lessons were finally over... I would either cycle straight home again... to do my homework... and practice the piano in Papa's study... for at least two hours... as he demanded and expected...

Or... feeling particularly philosophical... of a day... which happened more often than not... the older I got... I would first make a detour... dreamily whiling away the hours... sitting perched way up high... in the very topmost branches... of my secret hideaway oak tree... situated in a remote corner... of the grounds of the Convent...

Happily settling down... on the topmost branch... and loosening my hair again... feeling very much at home - closer to Heaven - as I confided to my Very Special Angel Friends ... way up there with me... I would tell Them... all about my impressions... of the time past... since I last saw Them... my observations... and concerns... about my rapidly changing... worrisome world...

Looking across the high treetops... at the panorama below me... a gentle breeze... ruffling my happily loose... long long hair... and Heralding the Presence... of my Angel Friends... I would watch the reddish-gold sun... beginning its descent... over the thousands of rooftops... in the overcrowded Japanese village... at the bottom of the steep hill... letting me know... that I still had an hour or so... of daylight left... to enjoy my very special Angel Private Time... there at the top of the world...

And I would gaze way down... at the familiar scene... of scurrying men and women... looking like tiny ants... the women dressed in their kimonos... - the younger in bright colors... the elder in more subdued shades - and even some female children... in their school uniforms... all the girls' black hair... cut in the traditional style... of reaching straight down to mid ear... and with straight bangs... across their foreheads... and it was a daily experience... that seldom varied...

From this great distance... I would imagine the "clack-clack" of the wooden getas... of those women clad in kimonos... as they deftly dodged the cyclists... and "Machiurite..." (street vendors) ... in the narrow streets... hurrying along... in their mincingly dainty steps... anxious to get home to their families...

And I would often ponder their fate... as I watched the throngs of young and old... going about their business... Now that there was a great big War going on... in Europe as well... would its evil tentacles... reach my beloved Nippon... Land of the Rising Sun..?

I hoped and prayed... that these dear... fascinating people... in their millions... with their strange customs... and ancient traditions... of unique codes of honor... and integrity... among whom I had spent the past most enriching... and enlightening... ten years of my life... would be spared the horrors... of a holocaust... And I would voice my very real concerns... about them... to my dear Angel Friends... my kindred Spirits...

Invariably... during these intimate tete-a-tetes... with Them... I would often ask these Ethereal Beings of Light... Whose Loving... Comforting Presence... I always felt so keenly... why it was... that the older I grew... the more often... I would feel lonely... within the deepest depths... of my soul... and why I felt... more and more... like such an outsider... not only within my own family... no longer quite feeling... as if I belonged... and by further extension... never really and truly feeling a true kinship... with my fellow classmates and friends...!

In my many close relationships... with my Nipponese tomodachis... already as a tot... quickly realizing that the Japanese... by and large... were of diminutive stature... I accepted the fact... that it would be natural for me... to be taller than they were...

And the instant... instinctively familiar kinship... of camaraderie I felt with them... easily conversing with them... in Hiragana... the upper class form of their language... which I already spoke fluently... as a two year old... whilst living in Peking China... before ever setting foot in Japan... and with nobody teaching me the language...! ... did little to make our physical differences... glaringly apparent ... and uncomfortable for me...

But then... when I became acquainted... with more and more of my fellow Caucasians... from the age of six... to my great surprise... I discovered that physically towering above... all my classmates... of the same age... and even older... would continue to be my fate... singling me out... as unusual... yet again...!

And I would agonize... to my dear Heavenly Angel Friends... why it was that I was becoming more and more aware... of being so different... from my fellow human beings... not only obviously physically - sick and tired of hearing...:

"Hey... Grazi-Long-Legs... how's the weather up there?" -

but also inside... where I knew I truly lived...

And as the sun began to sink lower... and lower... I knew it was time for me... to head back home... and my Dear Angel Friends... One Flanking my left side... and the Other my right side... would Spread Their Wings... and Gently Float me down... back to the earth... onto the grounds of the Convent... once again...

Knowing that I had to descend back down to earth... always filled me... with a sense of wrenching sadness... for I would d to remain with Them... way up high in the tree... forever and ever... where it was so Peaceful... and so much closer to Heaven... my True Home...

With great sadness... already at an early age... I had realized... how shallow... and weak of spirit... many of my fellow human beings were... and by the age of nine... had already developed a strong sense of continuing optimism... that there was still hope... that the day would come... when all of mankind... would truly turn themselves to God... and unconditionally... as they were supposed to... with utter trust... and faith in Him...

And even more so... when I reached the age of ten... when I began attending schooling... at St. Maur's Convent for Girls...

For I knew... deep down inside me... that Unconditional Surrender to Him... asking for nothing... nor expecting anything... was the Great Spiritual Secret... that would indicate to their Creator... and prove to Him... that His Created children... truly trusted... and had faith in Him...

And as their reward... for their utter trust and faith... in Him... their Heavenly Father... He Would Grant them... His Perfect Will... each soul individually... according to his nature... Which they would feel... like a Gentle Vibration... inside themselves... thereby able to Receive... His Perfect Guidance... from within themselves... so that they would become happy... and content... to have Him Direct their lives... lives that would become full of Grace... Peace... and Harmony... as He Perfectly Guided them... in all they did... and in all they said...

In order to make living out my life here on earth... continue to be more bearable... I clung to this hope... praying To Be Give