Chapter 1
Yokohama... November 8th 1941... A Momentous... Startling Date In My Life... When I Am Forced To Say "Sayonara"... Forever... To My Beloved Nippon... Land Of The Rising Sun...!

An air of exciting... bone-tingling mystery... in the house... my quirky family... hushed and tense...!

Watching them... getting very curious... I wonder to myself...:

"Whatever is going on...?! All those visitors... Papa's many Swiss compatriots... his friends... and business associates... traipsing in... and out... of our house... coming and going... all afternoon...?! And why are they all here... today of all days...?!"

I hear the murmur of barely audible voices... coming from behind Papa's closed study door...

I give up... exasperated... because neither my Russian stepmother... Xenia... of about five years... nor my older teenage siblings... Prima and Remo... seventeen and sixteen... respectively... deign to answer the annoying... querulous questions... of their pestering... insignificant nuisance... of a 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... I had 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 I step out into the hallway... to see our handsome patriarch emerge... 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... standing in the dark hallway... 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 included... even if just barely... as part of his family...

It is very very strange...! Nobody speaks...!

And all the visitors file silently off... heading for our front door... and out into the early evening... with 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... clearly 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 a tinge of fearful curiosity... I finally find out what all the hush-hush secrecy... was all about... on that oh so out-of-the-ordinary afternoon...!

Our imposing pater... apparently... had found it necessary... and of vital importance... to call an urgent meeting... at our house... of all his Swiss compatriots...!

Because... when he had taken the two loves of his life... his wife Xenia... and me... his secretly "darling Nadia" daughter... to the cinema... earlier that week - the three of us 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 gotten the greatest shock of his life...!

Since he was very aware... of what had been going on militarily in Japan... for the past three years... between the collaboration of the Japanese... and the Germans... he was greatly startled to see... during the preceding Movietone Newsreel... of all people... the American President... Franklin Delano Roosevelt... and the Japanese Ambassador... Mr. Oshima... shaking hands with each other... at the White House... in Washington D.C...!

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 of his taken aback two ladies... his face suddenly turned pasty greenish-white... with shock... he had impatiently herded them out of the theater... jostling and annoying the movie patrons... settled comfortably in their seats... in his haste to get them outside...

Once they had exited the movie theater... he disappointed his two bewildered ladies greatly... by abruptly announcing... that they were going straight home... and that there would be no usual 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 already weak heart... started to pound... with fear and trepidation...

Ever since that puzzling afternoon... there had been that aura of unsettling expectancy... in the house... that electric... tingling... "something mysterious 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 almost thirty years...? Why do you want to return to Europe...? What do you propose to do... about all your companies...?"

All the questions rudely... and accusingly 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 in uniform...

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... suspicious officials... the same reply... over and over again... explaining that his business interests in Europe... urgently 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 Company... and The Oriental Purchasing Company ... carved out by him... when he was an enterprising young man of barely twenty-one... ranging 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 of...:

"Well... you are to come back tomorrow afternoon... Perhaps tomorrow... we will let you leave Nippon...!

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 Nippon 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 for us... on the ocean liner... "Empress of New York" ... that would take us away... from the Orient... that it only took about two weeks... to sail directly... from Yokohama to New York... under normal circumstances...!

And I marveled over the fact... 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 2
We Must Leave...Our Lovely House... On The Bluff...!

Now Papa Rau... on this eve of November 8th 1941... sitting at the head of the dinner table... deliberately clears his throat... and we all know... from being subjected to the same gesture... at other times... that our imposing patriarch... has something of great importance... to say to his family...

So we all keep silent... all heads turned towards our imposing pater... our eyes riveted... on his grave face... looking at him questioningly... and there is an expectant hush... in the dining room...

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

His gaze tenderly resting first... on Xenia... his beloved Russian wife... of about five and a half years... sitting at the end of the table... opposite him... then very earnestly... on the faces of his three Swiss/French/Italian... totally dependent children...

They were his seventeen year old daughter... Prima Vera... sitting at his left... sixteen year old son... Remo Guido... sitting to the left of Xenia... and lastly... quizzically... his perpetually puzzling... eleven and a half year old... already much too tall for her age... oddball daughter... Graziella Nadia... his secretly "Darling Nadia"... always with her brainless head... dreamily up in the clouds... sitting right next to him... to his right...

The atmosphere... in the dining room... is 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... authoritarian patriarch... is about to utter...

And then... in a serious... quiet tone of voice... Papa Rau proceeds to tell his family that... ever since witnessing the ominous... clearly false handshake... between the American President Roosevelt... and the Japanese Ambassador... Mr. Oshima... at the White House... in the Movietone Newsreel... at the cinema the other evening... 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... and thoroughly convinced... that even though... we are Swiss neutrals... the "Japs" will never let us leave Japan... at least not officially...!"

And as all of us sit around the dining table... wide-eyed... trying to digest his frightening... ominous words... he continues... sounding most grave...:

"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 baring his soul... in this manner... expressing his personal feelings... to us children... 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 and Xenia... our stepmother... under the same roof... for the very first time... since they got married... he had never ever... talked seriously 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... ever since I was ten years old... he had begun to consider... as an exasperating... brainless... useless "dumb cluck"...!

And here he is... talking to the members of his family... as if they were perfectly capable... of understanding the seriousness... and gravity... of his words... even me... the brainless one...!

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 mostly addressing children... and not adults... letting out a great sigh of sadness... he continues... in that charming... quaint Swiss accent of his...:

"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...!"

My goodness... I never realized... what a poet Papa was...!

And then recalled his fascinating tales... about the wonderful time he had spent... traversing the length and breadth of Europe... as a carefree... roving... singing troubadour... with his guitar... slung across his broad shoulders... 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 morning... seriously voicing his doubts and fears... to Mr. Zwinkler... one of his oldest... closest and dearest friends... (a confirmed bachelor... and long time General Manager of the YCAC... (Yokohama Country & Athletic Club)...

And between them... they had decided... that he should assemble all their 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... as soon as possible...!

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 had told all of his Swiss compatriots... that afternoon... 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 was sure to very badly affect the whole world... disastrously...!

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

And reluctantly... all of them 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 daily rude interrogation... by the keisatsu... 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 meeting between President Roosevelt... and the Japanese Ambassador... in the Movietone Newsreel... at the cinema... the other evening...!

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

First there is Xenia... daughter of the famous General Bogoluboff... of the Russian White Army... fiercely loyal to Tsar Nicholas... my stepmother of almost six years... an attractive Russian orthodox woman... in her mid thirties... about to celebrate her thirty-fifth birthday... on November 19th... born under the intriguing sign of Scorpio...

She is sitting... at the end of the table... opposite her beloved Theo... her skillfully made-up... false "Mask of Beauty"... about which only I knew the truth about... registering little emotion... about what she had just heard her beloved say...

Only her beautiful blue-grey eyes... 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... and her facial features... 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... especially whenever she danced the tango... with her beloved...

Then there is Prima Vera... my beloved older and only sister... who has always been like a tender mother to me... being the first born... of our French/Italian mother... "La Contessa Vera Quarta Turin..."... when she was only sixteen...!

And which fact of nobility... I only found out about... when I was twenty-one... while reunited with her... in South Africa... when she offered me... my rightful title...!

Prima... who turned seventeen... about four months ago... on July 27th... is sitting alone... opposite Remo and me... midway down the long dining table...

She is a veritable... magnificent female... with her flirtatious... come hither dark brown 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...

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... but not the "baby fat" stage... recently ended...

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... diamond designed silver headband... holding the gorgeous mass back... off her face...

Her interesting... distinct features... show her to be a strong-willed... reckless... ready-to-try-anything... tempestuous gypsy girl... born under the fire sign of Leo... and yet her whole proud demeanor... paradoxically shows a calm maturity... way beyond her years...!

Pleasingly buxom... at her full height of about five foot seven... 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... before she even reached her teens...!

Prima's fierce ambition... is 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 the International School of Yokohama's stage productions of Shakespeare's plays...! She is also an accomplished pianist... with quite a number of public recitals... to her credit...

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

At almost four months... into his sixteenth year... he is a strikingly handsome... Errol Flynn look-alike... already standing over six feet tall... raw-boned... with intelligent... emerald green eyes... like his father's... and naturally wavy... thick light brown hair...

Confidently looking out at the world... with a steady gaze... he also has the inevitable Roman nose... inherited from his mother... and his lips are artistically shaped... curving his mouth... into a sensitive cast... His skin is interestingly pockmarked... from a nasty bout with acne... giving his slightly olive-tinged face... a distinctly rugged... craggy look...

Remo is a rare combination of artistic... and mathematical genius...!

Not only is he an accomplished oboist and pianist... as well as a talented actor... and exceptional painter... but quite paradoxically... he happens to also be a whiz 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...!

The fact that this handsome dreamboat... seemed to have little interest in girls... drove them crazy...

For he could usually be found... preoccupied... studiously wrapped up in his music... devoting all his free time... to practicing on his oboe... whilst sitting next to the gramophone... 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...

One could also find him standing in front of his easel... intently concentrating on painting reproductions... of a bowl of fruit... or a vase of flowers... from our garden... showing exceptional artistic talent...

He even painted a charming portrait... of yours truly... when she was about ten and a half... which won First Prize... at the Jiyugakuen Painting Exhibition Contest... and may still be hanging somewhere in the gallery there... today...!

He also loved to amuse himself... with his collection of 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 accidentally pressed them on her stomach...)

Ever since we moved in with Papa and Xenia... Remo started to spend some time... gleefully taunting me... his little sister... jeeringly calling me... "Crazy-Ella...!"... or "Gassy-Ella...!"

Or... last but not least... his favorite nicknames for me... would be "Featherbrain...!" ... and "Scatterbrain...!" ... until I wanted to scream...

Curiously... during the four years... when we were permanent 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 year and a half... not a day went by... when he did not make it his business... to torment me... with his jeering taunts... when nobody else was around...!

One day... about six months ago... just after my eleventh birthday... something inside me had snapped...!

Unable to stand Remo's taunting... jeering 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 delicate... Japanese fishing boat curio... made of glass and silver... sitting on the sideboard... in the living 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... from then on...

And a strange kind of respect for her... was born that day... For from that day forward... he never called her names again... except "kiddo"... and always affectionately... but never ever again... tauntingly...

Last of all... there is our patriarch... Theodore Rau... his name meaning "Servant of God"... a Christian Scientist... born in the Northeastern most 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 about six million...!

At forty-nine... four months short of his fiftieth birthday... coming up 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 a know-it-all smile... his small... even white teeth... also at odds... with the rest of his noble... imposing 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... always held high... his strides always long... and purposeful...

Firmly believing in good health... and rigorous... daily exercise... his lithe body... is in excellent physical condition... for he neither smokes... nor drinks... except for an aperitif... before dinner... to open up the appetite... and a single glass of wine... with dinner... to aid in his digestion...

And being quick... graceful and light... on his feet... had earned him... over the years... many a Black Belt prize... in the Japanese 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 three 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 almost six 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 idea... that she was actually his second born...!)

For he had already conceived a child... Berthina - with his common law Japanese wife... Kimiko... of seven years... meeting her... when she was a beautiful Geisha girl... of seventeen... who had nursed him back to health... from a bad case of malaria... contracted while he was on safari in Africa...

And broken-hearted... and in despair... Kimiko had ultimately committed "jisatsu" (suicide)... when her "saiai no itoshii Teo-san" (dearly beloved)... came back... from overseas... and occupied their house... with an "utsukushii wakai no gaikokujin hanayome no yuiitsu juroku...!" (beautiful young foreigner bride... of only sixteen...!)

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... in Genoa... 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... a constant... unsettling reminder... of her husband's Japanese concubine...!

We were not destined... to meet Papa's daughter... Berthina... who preferred to be called Bertha... until she was a grown-up woman of twenty-three... and we were brought together... for the first time... in Zurich Switzerland... when Papa went to Italy... to bring her back with him... to live with us... after the War...!

Resting his gaze on Prima... I could just imagine him contemplating 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... into the unknown...!

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...

And he showed... by the expression... on his face... that 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 brainless "dumb cluck"... of his brood... who may... or who may not be... his real daughter... because of his previous wife's many infidelities...!

And a frown now creasing his forehead... his brilliant green eyes looked puzzled... as they rested upon me... and I could almost read his random thoughts...:

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

Then looking a bit worried...:

"I wonder whether I was too hard on her... somehow causing her crazy heart condition... of no name...!"

And I could just imagine him... imperceptibly shrugging off the unpleasant likelihood...

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

For instance... how does she manage to "recognize"... so many places in Japan... that she has never been to before... and even knowing... the family names... of the owners of the more prominent "yadoyas" (inns)...?!

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... in Peking... China... before she even ever had set foot on Japanese soil... a language... that neither of us had taught her...?!

And all those screaming nightmares... of hers... always in Hiragana... never in English... and always describing... her previous incarnation... as a young court lady... and daughter of a prominent... ruling Shogun family...!?

And which fact... I subsequently verified for myself... even about the tragedy... that most unusually... in 1929... she had been betrothed... to an Englishman... and "losing face"... had consequently drowned herself... because of his betrayal... with her much younger... beautiful little "itoko" (cousin)...!

And just look at her special way with animals... She seems to have an uncanny knack... of being able to communicate with them...!

It's quite amazing... how easily 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... they would meow... starting with my favorite... Mickey the comedian... snow-white... except for the black patch over his right eye... giving him a cocky look... Then followed by queenly Cleopatra... always contemptuously looking about her... with haughty 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..."

(Actually... it was quite easy for me... to train Kissa and her brood... because we would often converse with each other... in my dreams... where she would explain... all about the nature of a female cat... and their cat world to me...!)

Papa pondering further... about me... the perplexing odd one...:

"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... and looking deep into me... as if she were searching for my soul... with those blue blue eyes of hers... asking me all those unsettling... questing 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 on yet another startlingly uncomfortable occasion...

"Papa...? Please tell me the true significance... about living a whole lifetime on earth... and what the real purpose of it all is...?"

And her most recent soul deep questions...:

"Papa...? Please tell me... what does "The Divine Law of Cause and Effect"... really mean... in God's Great Scheme of things...?!

And what is your own understanding... about reincarnation... as a Christian Scientist...?!"

"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... frowning...:

"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... or sharp enough mind... to calculate the figures... in her head... accurately... as she stands in front of me... trembling... with her mouth gaping open... and a shocked... blank look on her face... becoming utterly tongue-tied...

And I don't really want to punish her... by sending her off to her room... in disgrace... hungry... without any food... because she always fails to give me any right answer...

I certainly know only too well... what a ravenous appetite she always has... eating like a horse... the way she does... as she keeps growing and growing...!"

Then sighing...:

"Nor do I want to torture her... with those damnable "aburamushis" (cockroaches)... every night...!

But I simply 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 all those embarrassing questions..."

Then frowning again...:

"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... his secretly "Darling Nadia"... presented to him... secretly his Nadia... because his beloved Xenia... when she came into his life... had jealously objected to his continuing to call me... by his favorite Russian name... he focused his attention... back on Prima and Remo...

"Ah... but their outstanding qualities... and accomplishments of near-genius... on the other hand... more than make up for my youngest's oddness... and blank brain... and perplexing peculiarities... with her head always dreamily up in the clouds... and with one foot of hers... in Heaven... as the saying goes...

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 paintings... 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)... the First Prize winning portrait now hanging... in the gallery... of the famous Aoyama Gakushuin University... familiarly known as the "Jiugakuen" ... in Tokyo...

And the other fortunate thing... that would stand all his children in good stead... abroad... was that all of them now spoke more than one language... not only Japanese... but German... French and Latin... as well... except for his youngest... who had been too young... for the German class...

But since she seemed to have a flair for languages... and learned them quickly... he had no doubt... that once she was in a Swiss school... she would master the German language... as well... in no time flat...

Chapter 3
Reading Papa's Random Thoughts... Makes Me Go Back... Into Some Of The Intriguing Past... Of Growing Up... Living In The Exotic Orient...!

The International School of Yokohama... had first 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...

And she had brought the house down... with her mature... dramatic interpretation... of the role of Viola...!

And the passion... with which she had portrayed her... was so utterly captivating... 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... "The Admirable Crighton" ... at the Grand Hotel... that was also a smash hit...

And Remo... as Crighton... 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 simply could not be mollified...

Not until one of the mothers... who was helping... in 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... she had gently... and with great sincerity... remonstrated with me...:

"...But don't you know... my dear... 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 Upon... 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 second time... since the German artist... when I was four and a half... and now at six and and a bit years of 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 absolutely incredible...!

But 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... has put so much feeling... into the role of "Joy"... that the rest of the performers' stage acting... has been wooden... by comparison... especially that of "Beauty's"...!"

The ISY had also staged... Shakespeare's light-hearted comedy... "Much Ado About Nothing..."... at the Grand... which was also a smash success...

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 first 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... Michael... and little sister... and with her back... turned to the audience... pretended to sing the song to them...

I had tried to disguise my voice... hoping that it would not be recognized... as Tiger Lily's... in the next act... and 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 a surge of great hand-clapping... and shouts of "Bravo"... roaring throughout the auditorium...!

And Wendy... sweet sweet Wendy... had stepped outside her role... for a moment... reached behind the curtain... grabbed hold of me... and pulling a blushing with surprise and pleasure... me out... and with a flourish... presented me to the audience... who gave me 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 again... and cheered... with enthusiastic shouts of "Bravo..." again... and "Encore... Encore...!"... giving me my second... overwhelmingly sweet ovation...!

And the applause was 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...)

Chapter 4
The Marked Discomfort... Of Living Under The Same Roof... For The Very First Time... With Love-Smitten Papa... And His Neurotic Wife... Xenia...!

Looking around the table... at my peculiarly at odds 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... of a year and a half... 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 affectionate 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... having very quickly learned the difference... between spending short school vacation jaunts with them... when our hours were filled... with lighthearted fun and games... and living with them permanently...

We Rau children... at our advanced ages of sixteen... fifteen... and ten... suddenly being thrust upon Papa and Xenia... to be living with them... for the first time... under the same roof... on a daily basis... however... as we had been doing... ever since the first day... following my tenth birthday... on April 10th... proved to be quite difficult... and did not help to create... a natural atmosphere of relaxed contentment... in each other's company...

I remember that particular date of my birthday vividly... because it was the momentous day the Rau children... were finally baptized... together... by Papa Bear Reverend Pott... when he became appalled to learn... that not one of us had been baptized... as babies...!

And he had performed the holy rite... as his last Anglican ministerial service... before fleeing Japan... somehow...!

It was only some seven years later... that I found out... that my beloved Papa Bear... had made it safely out of Japan... when I visited the Anglican parish... in London England... hoping to be reunited with him...

But instead of Papa Bear... I was ushered into the presence of the good man of God... Reverend Andrews...! And after an uncomfortable few embarrassed moments... he curtly informed me... as I now towered above him... at five foot ten... that my beloved Papa Bear... was now teaching at a school... way down in South Hampton...

Today... I regret that I had not made a special effort... to make that long trip... by train... to Southern England... to see him... but I had doled out to me... daily... by Papa's appointed guardian... only the money I would need... for my train ticket... and lunch... as a seventeen year old student... at the Kensington Secretarial College for Girls...

Since Japan had suddenly stopped all traveling abroad... Papa and the love of his life... Xenia... could no longer... happily go off... on their carefree... combination business/pleasure trips... to different countries... finding themselves reluctantly forced to stay put... and set up a household... which included Papa's children... living with him and Xenia... for the first time... since the ISY had been forced to close its doors...

Perhaps that is why there was always an unpleasant tension prevalent... whenever any of us children... 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 mostly away... from daily parental influence... whilst living as permanent boarders... at the ISY... for over four crucial... formative years... of their character and personality development...

Looking across the table... at Papa and Xenia... already married now for about five and a half 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 the privacy... of 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 the door... of the room... they happened to be in... 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 was suddenly no longer Papa's "Darling Nadia..."... at the age of about five... after the love of his life... Xenia... came into his life... and she vehemently objected... to his calling me by my Russian second name... given to me by him... and which he preferred... to Graziella... he suddenly ceased his customary manner... of easy camaraderie with me... when we were in the habit of conversing casually... together... in Japanese... my primary language...

And almost overnight... he 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...!

Also 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 the 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 our mother... apparently had full custody... of all of her children... Prima Vera... Remo Guido... and Graziella Nadia... because of Papa's blatant infidelity with Xenia... (although those facts... were not known to me at the time)... when she went to South Africa... with her comparatively new second husband... of three years... Alfred Stempfle... it was in early 1939...

And naturally... 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... in December... when their school term... came to an end...

The actual date... that England declared War on Germany... was the third of September... a date of personal doom... that I will never... ever forget...!

Because that was the darkest day of my life... when all my eager anticipation... and hopes... of soon being reunited... with my adored Mummie... finally happily living with her... and Papa Alfred... and baby brother Hansi... in a house together... in a brand new country... were smashed to smithereens...!

Dear gentle soul... Papa Alfred... whom I instantly fell in love with.... at first sight... with all my heart... was a Bavarian-born... civil engineer... whose employers... the only manufacturers... of inter-oceanic pipelines... in Germany... were transferring him to Johannesburg... as their company's Managing Director...

It had been Mummie's intention... to go on ahead... with Papa Alfred... and their two year old son... Hans Reiner... find a suitable house... big enough to accommodate... her whole family... and then make the necessary arrangements... to send for us... her other children...

I also did not know... that it was Papa Alfred... and not Papa Rau... who was paying for our board... and education... at the ISY...! Only finding out the shocking truth... about it... when I came across some school report cards... in my mother's possession... when I was already well into my thirties... and questioned her about them...!

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 then... for about three 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... which I had been attending... and St. Joseph's Catholic College for Boys... which Remo was being educated at...

Both institutions were situated down two separate spurs... of the Bluff... and had been established... way back in 1872... even long before the "Great Kanto Earthquake and Fire of 1923"... and I found out recently... that both St. Maur's and St. Joseph's... are still in operation today... although St. Maur's is now called "St. Maur International School"...!

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... petulant... 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... in 1923...!

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... two thirds in Japanese... serenely continuing to conduct their classes in English... Latin and French... only... to International children... of various religions...!

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 had 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...!

Chapter 5
Poor Neurotic Xenia's Very Lonely... Unhappy Upbringing... In Military Camps... With Her Stern Father... General Bogoluboff... In Mother Russia... Sadly Turn Her... Into An Unsure Of Herself... Pathetic Soul... Who Is Fiercely Jealous... And Possessive... Of Her Beloved Theo... And At Times... Mean-spirited... And Vindictive...!

Xenia was the younger of two daughters... of the heroic Russian General Bogoluboff... who... fiercely loyal to Tsar Nicholas... had fought in the Russian White Army... against the Bolsheviks...!

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... and harshly disciplining her... like a soldier boy... as she grew up... in different military camps... throughout Russia... 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... (just like yours truly...!)

Now finally having found a man... who really and truly adored her... she had become fiercely possessive... of his affections... determinedly unwilling... to share them with anybody else... especially 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 them... and how it was obvious to her... that he was spoiling them 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 acquiesce... to her petty... whining demands... thereby depriving us... of having a normally friendly... loving father... from then on... and even more noticeably... once we were all living under the same roof together...

Xenia was a pathetic... borderline neurotic... and extremely jealous of Prima... taking an instant dislike to her... at first sight... probably because she resembled her husband's exquisitely beautiful ex-wife... Vera... so much... being endowed with the same creamy... olive-skinned complexion... and beautiful dark 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 me... the youngest of her step-children... whom she always irritatingly referred to... as "Grad-zella..."... who never exhibited any feelings of resentment... or outright hatred towards her... like her older sister did...

Besides... there was the fact... that 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... exquisitely beautiful... dark-haired... Madonna-like 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 love and devotion... for her... her antipathy towards her stepdaughter... would gradually lessen... and fade away altogether...

But alas... it never did... because she could not abide Prima's obvious... natural maturity...

In her raging... possessive jealousy... and deep feelings of inferiority... Xenia would frequently exaggerate stories about Prima... that would invariably earn her a brutal thrashing from Papa... with his belt...!

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 this odd... but attractive woman... who was beautifully dressed... when I was barely five... I distinctly remember... instinctively "knowing"... as she gave me a sickly smile... as we were introduced to each other... that she was completely out of her depth... where children were concerned... and utterly incapable of understanding... or relating to them naturally... at all...!

My adored Papa... glowing with happiness... had brought her home one afternoon... out of the blue... introducing her to us... as our new "Auntie Xenia"...!

And looking up at him... standing there in front of me... beaming... with the strange lady's arm... snugly tucked under his... I suddenly felt a strange sense of doom... as if I had lost my adored Papa... for good...!

Papa and Mummie were estranged by then... no longer living together... And although Mummie knew all about his new love... and that he had brought her back from Shanghai... and set up a household for her... she had insisted on one adamant condition... and it was that their children... were never to meet her...!

But Papa wanted to proudly show off his well behaved children... to his new love... and had brought her to the house... when he knew that his estranged wife... would be away... playing tennis... winning yet another trophy... as usual... at the YCAC...

Looking up at this strange lady... my new "Auntie Xenia"... who really did not want to be there... I seemed to instantly recognize... her narrow-minded... shallow character... and her petty... restricted... wooden 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 ever before... in my life...!

And I felt intensely sorry... for this emotionally fractured... pathetic... narrow soul... who did not know how to be natural...!

Consequently... she had never had any real power... to influence... or hurt me... because I always instinctively... and naturally understood... her glaring shortcomings... and 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 his 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...

And he... believing her... in turn... would fly into a towering rage... whipping Prima mercilessly... with his belt...

And even though she and I... not only slept in the same bedroom... but even in the same bed... together... my wonderful... motherly sister... 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 very 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 blindly smitten... with his beloved... that he never even noticed... how evilly devious... and slyly cunning... she was... and by and large... not a very nice person... at all...!

Chapter 6
The Rau Family Is Subjected... To Repetitious Dinners... Night After Night...!

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 long time Amah... her name meaning "flower"... and cooked to perfection... by her husband... 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" (being various cold cuts... and Hugo jams... with coffee or tea... for my elders... and just a glass of cold milk for me...)

Thursdays...: "Beef Briskets and Mashed Potatoes"...

And on Fridays...: "Fresh Fish" again...

The only variety... being the different kinds of fresh vegetables... served with the hot dinners...

And as far as yummy... creamy... fattening desserts were concerned... there were none... with all meals ending... only with healthful fresh fruit... and imported cheeses...!

Because Xenia's religious beliefs... were of the Russian Orthodox persuasion... meat was never served on Fridays... and for some strange reason... no chicken or pork... was ever on the menu... either...!

Devout Xenia... 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 bare feet... a red votive candle... was always lit...

I could never quite 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... at the dinner table... ever...!

Except for the imported Swiss "Hugo" jams and fruit preserves... served to us at breakfast... and "Café Complait..." meal 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...

Neither the 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...!

I could also never quite understand... why we were never served any of the different kinds of canned fruits... on the pantry shelves... as well...!

If I had known about the existence of can openers... at the time... always ravenous... I would have sneakily helped myself... to some of the intriguing... delicious sounding delicacies... sitting ignored... day after day... on the pantry shelves...!

There was one consolation... however... "Sakana no hararago"... delicious red caviar... that was not as salty... as the black Beluga... and which 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 of "Kutsu-Kake"... which means "Put on your Shoes"... situated in the Miharashibashi District... and buy some...!

(There is the curious fact that... when we lived in Kobe... when I was barely two years old... our house was near a village... that had the same quaint name...!)

And Remo and I often made the trip down there... together... happily walking arm in arm... in search of the delicacy... to be bought with his pocket money...

On Saturday nights... everybody went out... except for yours truly... Papa and Xenia... to the YCAC Dinner and Dance... and Prima and Remo... to their school friends' houses...

Those few chums of ours... still in Japan... never came to our house... for a strict rule... had been imposed... on us Rau children... forbidding us to invite any of them home... ever... Apparently... three children in the house... were more than enough... for madly in love with each other... Papa and Xenia... to barely tolerate... at any given time...!

Chapter 7
Saturday Nights Are A Mixture Of Bliss... And Terror For Me... Because Of The Fearsome "Genki"...!

Saturday nights were a mixed blessing for me... the only one left alone at home...

And I would be allowed to first... happily feast... on my very favorite... takeout Japanese specialty... consisting of humongous bowls of delicious... chicken and vegetable soups... of either "Soba" (thin noodles) or "Udon" (thick noodles)... dining with Cook-san... and his wife Hana-san... in their brightly lit quarters... at the back of our house...

But then... after blissfully gorging... on the steaming hot "Soba" or "Udon" soup... brought to the house... by a young boy on a bicycle... I would be expected to return... to the dark main house... but strictly forbidden... by Papa... to switch any lights on...!

Every Saturday night... just before he left for the YCAC... as he put in an order for food delivery for me... over the phone... in his study... which only he had the authority to use... and which was strictly forbidden... for any of us children to touch... right after he put the phone down... he would always make it a point... to sternly lecture me... on how very expensive... electricity was...!

And this reminder... would always be followed... by my being told... what a waste of good money... it would be... for him to spend it... only on insignificant... brainless... useless... "dumb cluck" me... alone in the house... whom he had never asked to be born... but since I had been... and he was saddled with me... I should not expect... any special favors from him...!

So... feeling unloved... insignificant... dumb... and unwanted... and rejected... I would sit... crouched down on the floor... in the pitch dark... of the living room... quaking... and very afraid... of the fearsome... red-eyed "Genki"... that Papa had told me... would be spying on me... to see whether I put any lights on in the house...!

And every time... I dared to look up... I could see the red eyes... of the "Genki"... glaring at me ferociously... through the bay window pane... fronting the garden... with only the flimsy glass... separating us...!

Never realizing... that the frightening "red eyes"... were probably those of fireflies... or glowworms...!

And shivering and shaking... and feeling guilty... that I had been born... as a useless creature... the hours dragged... interminably on and on... and with my fertile imagination... running wild... becoming a disgusting craven coward... I would long for the time... when I would hear the reassuring... familiar voices... of my largely indifferent... smart family... to whom I mostly was an annoying... dumb nuisance... coming home...

Chapter 8
Our Invigorating... Sunday Hikes... Through Beautiful... Breathtaking Japan...!

On Sundays... however... 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... my adored 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 cable cars together... thoroughly enchanted... and fascinated... by the overwhelming... spectacular views of mountain peaks... and cascading waterfalls... as we trudged across the rugged mountains... of breathtaking Hakone... on the Izu Peninsula...

Or hiking through the Mount Rokko range... behind Kobe... armed with our knapsacks... on our backs...

Seeing the look of pride... in my adored Papa's emerald green eyes... whenever I managed to scale some difficult... rocky spot... would make my chest swell with happiness... because I loved 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 "abutta no hiyoko" (roast chicken)... and delicious "koebi no tsumeru nakiotoshi no kikanai tamago" (shrimp stuffed hard boiled eggs)... thin slivers of marinated "abutta no gyuniku" (roast beef)... a Japanese style of "namayasai no ryori" (salad)... consisting of "kyuri" (cucumber)... "mame" (bean) and "kyabetsu" (cabbage)... and "atarashii kudamono" (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 there would be the easy climb down... from the great heights... and home... both of us tired... but feeling marvelously exhilarated... from our glorious day outdoors...

There were many times... when I would beg my adored 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 easily won...

Observing her play... was fascinating to watch... and I would marvel at the ease... with which she handled her tennis racquet... 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 long strides... were so gracefully easy... for her to make... always managing to catch the ball dead center... on her racquet...

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... and as beautiful... as she was... with no idea... that I was destined... to ultimately grow to six feet two...!

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 Sundays... after church service... they would pick only me up... at the ISY... and we would go hiking... through the mountains together... minus knapsacks... but with just water canteens...

Only now the excursions... into the virginal... remote areas of Japan's hundreds... of beautiful National Parks... were spoiled for me... Because Papa and I... 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 mountain sides... upon which grew towering evergreen trees... of mighty proportions... all the terrain... was very familiar to me... although I had never been... to some 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 short legs... noticeably trembling...

And Papa... full of concern for his beloved... would take us to dine... at some quaint Japanese "yadoya" (inn)... whose owners... and family names... and relationships to each other... I invariably... and instinctively... I 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 his two adoring ladies... 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 Yadoya Fujiya... at Miyanoshita... Nikko... only accessible by cable car... and others... too numerous to mention...

Or sometimes... we would even stay overnight... at 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... and Papa and I... were always tickled pink... at Xenia's insistence... on wearing rubber shoes... in the water... to protect her delicate feet...!

Although I loved the mountainous hot springs areas... savoring every single second of our stay... in those lovely places... surrounded by graceful pine trees... feasting on delicious... authentic Japanese food... and having my body immersed... in the soothing... pleasantly warm... curative waters... after a day's strenuous hike... try as I might... I could never quite get used to the stench of sulfur... 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 "Nippon no yadoya" (Japanese inn)...!

Knowing that I would be tossing... and turning... all night... unable to sleep comfortably... lying flat... on the hard tatami floor... my extra long body... unable to relax... because I have never been able... to lie flat on my back... due to a congenital spinal condition... which for years... was unknown to me...! And which would also induce... an unpleasant asthma attack...!

But in particular... because I was expected... to lay my head... on the traditional... customary... "Nippon no mokusei no makura" (Japanese wooden pillow)... consisting of a three to four inch high... square-shaped... hard... cotton-tufted wooden block - sheer agony for my extra 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... long body... into a safe... comfortable position... gently cradled... half immersed... in the wonderfully soothing... warm... non-sulfuric pool of water... that the yadoya... also thoughtfully provided... for its honored guests...!

And luckily for me... and by the Grace of God... and Protection... of His Angels... was never discovered there... always waking in time... and able to sneak back... to my room... undetected...!

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 always glaringly showed... how brainless... and stupid... yours truly 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... or Nelson Eddy-Jeanette MacDonald musical... was being featured... in some neighboring town... Papa would think nothing of taking us... on a long train ride... to see it...!

Chapter 9
Xenia's Delectable Russian Specialties...!

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 very 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... yet again... by preparing the traditional... Russian "Pascha"... a delicious creamy concoction... consisting of a high stack of thin crepes... layered in between... and covered with "quark"... a thick cream cheese... everything sumptuously sweetened... with glazed strawberries... and other candied fruit... utterly 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 ache... and stabs my head painfully...!

Chapter 10
My Life-long... Very Special Relationship... With Dear Old Cook-san...!

Dear old Cook-san... who had been in my life... ever since I could remember... knew that his "chiisai Sera-chan"... 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 her...

(Since my name Graziella... which I loved... and would have loved to be addressed as... was far too difficult... for the Nipponese... to pronounce... ever since I could remember... all my succession... of village Amahs and Cook-san... and all my "tomodachis" (friends)... had always referred to me... as "Sera-chan"...)

Cook-san and Sera-chan... would have a guessing game... as to what the secret ingredients inside were... and if she guessed right... she 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 round 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... he would 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 Tokyo 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...!

And then of course... there would be my daily dose... of my very favorite... "Chichi Supu" (Milk Soup)... a delicious mixture... of milk and seasoned flour... which my dear Cook-san... always whipped up for me... as soon as my head... eagerly poked... around the kitchen door...

I loved the dear 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 perfect 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... fascinated... goggle-eyed reaction... would thrill him to bits...

Chapter 11
On Our Very Last Night... In Our House... Papa Gives Us Exciting... Cloak And Dagger Instructions... For Our Forthcoming... Sneaky Escape... Out Of Japan...!

Now... on the very 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 ten years 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 close... 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 been killed... 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... for himself... when he was only barely twenty-one...!

And if the truth be known... I also knew absolutely nothing... about my mother... and her background... except that she was French/Italian... by birth... and that she had married Papa... when she was only sixteen years old...!

And it was not until I was twenty-one... and finally reunited with her... in South Africa... that I learned that my adored 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 French family name...!

And that... as far as Theodore Rau... was concerned... his young parents... had been tragically killed... in an automobile accident... when he was only ten... 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 who never showed him any affection... whatsoever...

And I finally understood... why Papa was not naturally physically demonstrative... always embarrassed... at any display of affection... shown towards him... For he had not grown up normally... 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... when I reached the age... when he began to live with her...!

And I found myself wondering... once 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 across... and enjoyed swimming in... all those delicious delicacies... I had happily savored... in the uniquely... "Nippon no Ryori no Shikata (Japanese cuisine) ... that I had become re-accustomed to... during these past ten years... from my past three Japanese incarnations... 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...

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 dining 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 late into 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..."

Papa then 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 might be...

Without saying so... I knew he was referring... to his last year's Christmas present... of my very favorite book... "Arabian Nights"... replacing the one... that my room mate... Elena... had so viciously destroyed... at the ISY... when I was six... because she was envious... of the special bond her mother... our housekeeper... and I shared... the shocking event... explained more fully below... and also under PART I-A... in Chapter 12...

"Arabian Nights"... was all about the beautiful Scheherazade... (whom incidentally... I have often been compared to... with my many unusual experiences...!)... and her beloved husband... 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 husband 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 naturally... around the servants... letting them see... that we were simply happy... to be going off on a short seaside holiday... nothing more...

And then he bowls us over... by confiding... that he has a sneaking suspicion... that Hana was being forced... to spy on us... by the Miharashibashi District Police... weekly reporting our activities to them... because he had caught a glimpse of her... coming out of their headquarters... only just a few days ago...!

As we try to digest this shocking... alarming... and possibly dangerous tidbit of information... Papa looks at Remo... smiling with a certain grimness... and says...:

"God Willing... your dream of a few nights 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 expeditiously... 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... grueling questioning... they have finally taken pity on me...!"

And just as he finished issuing... his cloak and dagger instructions... with everybody looking at him... with baited breath... and wide eyes... Hana suddenly silently appeared... in the doorway of the pantry... with a large tray... to clear the dining table... as usual... and there was a sudden awkward silence... around the room...

And fearing that she would become suspicious... I found myself blurting out to her... in excited... rapid-fire Katakana 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 out her enthusiasm... to her dear old 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... at long last... managed to please him... in such an intelligent way...

But at the same time... I felt dreadfully sick... at having committed... the great sin of lying... and for the very first time... to my dearest Hana-san... of all people... and on the very last night... we would be in each other's lives...!

And I hoped... with all my heart... that my Heavenly Father... Would Forgive me... with His Great... Loving... Compassionate Understanding... when I talked to Him... later on that night... sleeping for the very last time... in the shared king size bed...!

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 asu" (railway station tomorrow)...!

And Papa... very relieved... that Hana 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... dressed traditionally... as usual... in her kimono... 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... piled up high on her tray... to the kitchen... through the walk-through pantry... as she had... so many times before...

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...

And as we all stood up... his next words... filled me with eager excitement... as I heard him say that... Xenia... meanwhile... would be busy... spending the night in their room... sewing all their valuables... into their clothing...!

And I hardly heard him add... that she 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 always taxing stairs... of "Mount Everest"... which caused my weak heart... to beat painfully fast... headed for our shared bedroom... with Remo going on further upstairs... to his attic room... my heart started to hammer even stronger... in my chest... and I got very excited... at all the sudden... "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... and even my precious record collection... of my idol... Deanna Durbin... not making any fuss at all...

Not even about my Shirley Temple doll... which dear Mrs. Mendoza... our Portuguese/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...!

The beautiful gown... reached all the way down to her feet... to hide the doll's broken legs... which her daughter... Elena... about two years older than myself... at barely six... in a fit of jealous rage... resentful over the very special bond... her mother and I shared... had furiously smashed... one day...!

(The full story of that unhappy... shocking event... is told in the subsequent Chapter 12... of Part I-A...)

From a very early age... it had always been very easy for me... to share my belongings... with others... 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... after my usual nightly teta-a-tete... with my Heavenly Father... Who immediately Made me Feel Forgiven... for my sin of necessary lying... to my beloved Hana-san...

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... that I had only heard about... from my many International school friends... 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 Nipponese...!

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 soul... I reminded myself of the fact... that there would be no more painfully embarrassing... nightly incidents of... whilst 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... really and truly fast asleep... and as usual... with a great big smile on her face... 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... and emotionally deflated... wondering to himself... puzzled for the umpteenth time... why it was... that his secretly "Darling Nadia"... never seemed to suffer any injury... to her bare feet... whatsoever... with all the prolonged... forceful kicking... she did with them... on the hard bedroom wall...!

And then I was suddenly reminded... feeling nauseous... at a horrible memory... of the unbearable... terrifying nightly ordeals... enforced by my feared/adored Papa...:

"...And remember the odious "Chamber of Horrors"... downstairs...? Thank God you won't have to go through that terrifying ordeal... of being locked up... every night... in there... by Papa... leaving you in there... with deafening swarms... in the thousands... of those dreaded... huge... dive-bomb... "aburamushis"... (flying cockroaches... like the Palmettos... so prevalent... on the tropical coasts of the USA and Hawaii)... ferociously attacking you... with their shiny... hard bodies... ever again...!"

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 12
More Poignant Reminiscences... On The Night Of November 8th 1941... Recalling The Sudden Invasion... Of The Magnificent Mansions... On The Bluff... By German Military Families...!

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... there was still an empty... aching void... left in my soul...

For I would no longer be happily able... to sing hymns... and psalms... in Praise of my Beloved Heavenly Father... as a proud member of the Anglican Church Choir...

And I found myself longing... for those special times... of the Wednesday 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 the War... about two years ago... as had most of the choir members... to their respective countries...

And consequently... no more Sunday 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... facing the Pacific Ocean...

Now too... I would miss terribly... the opportunity to continue blissfully singing... 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 vigorously pedaled my bicycle... with my never ending "Grazi Long Legs"... way up high along the Bluff... past magnificent mansions... on my way to St. Maur's...

And I wished... with all my heart... that I could set the clock back...!

There was a time... not too long ago... when these beautiful 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 waved 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...

Some of these very Ladies of the Manor... of all different nationalities... had been the concerned mothers... who had come to me... asking me for advice... in how to handle their unruly... rebellious children... when I was only eight...!!!

But gradually... these stately manors... 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 stark comparison...

And in total contrast... I could never... by any stretch of the imagination... regard these heavyset... frumpy matrons... as "ladies"... let alone call them... "ladies of the manor"...!

Observing these German women... standing stiffly... in their various doorways... their shapeless figures... dressed in drab bathrobes of unappealing colors... I watched them see their smartly resplendent... in uniform... 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... proudly showing German officers... in Japanese factories... training the military... helping them... in building their warplanes... or help train the Nippon no Hoheitai... (infantry) ... 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 Nippon no Hoheitai ... 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 13
Our Prophetic Day Of Deliverance... On November 9th 1941... Which For Yours Truly... The Barely Tolerated... Awkwardly Too Tall... Brainless "Dumb Cluck"... Turns Out To Be A Most Significant Day... Full Of Joy... Shame... Chilling Fear... And Deep Sorrow...!

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

On a sudden impulse... after our last lunch... in the house... with my suitcases packed... and nothing else left to do... and wanting to cheer myself up... after lightheartedly saying a brave "Sayonara"... to dear old Cook-san... I decided to go next door... to our neighbors... the Murrays... to say goodbye to them... and thank my dear old motherly friend... for having been so kind... and good to me... over the past year and a half...

Many a time... I would be cowering in the garden... trying to make myself invisible... greatly hurt... and shocked... by Papa's mental cruelty... yet once again...

And as I became filled with ever deeper despair... there roly-poly Mrs. Murray... would be... in a flash... with her twinkling brown button eyes...!

And the sight of her warm... friendly... motherly self... would instantly cheer me up... as she beckoned me to join her... in her cozy... inviting house of love... for a nice hot cup of tea... and some of her imported... tasty English Digestive Biscuits...

And basking in her love... I would become full of optimism... once again... thoroughly convinced... that that was the last time... that Papa hurt... and shocked my sensitive self... and that it would never happen again...

As I passed the hallway... on my way outdoors... I looked at my brand new... expensive... peacock blue... Burberry raincoat... to match my eyes... Papa had said... as he presented the most unexpected gift... to me... out of the blue... one day... a few months ago...!

The beautiful garment... was made of thick cloth... which could also serve... as a winter overcoat... if turned inside out... and there was a matching collapsible umbrella... to go with it...

They were hanging on the coat rack... and it was my intention... to proudly wear the lovely Burberry... that day... for the very first time... eagerly looking forward... to wearing a brand new coat... of my very own... for the first time in my life... which was not a hand-me-down... from Prima... having grown taller than she was... just in the past six months...!

And as I turned away... from admiring its lovely peacock blue color... yet once again... I got a sudden strong urge... to wear it... then and there...!

But then brushed the Inner prompting aside... to my consequent great regret...!

Blithely telling myself that... after all... I was just going to go right next door... as I so often had... in the past... just wearing a dress... or kimono... which the dear old lady... especially loved to see me dressed up in...

Besides... I was already feeling heavy laden with guilt... at having to lie to the dear old lady... about our so-called seaside holiday...

When jolly Mrs. Murray... opened the door... greeting me... with her twinkling... button brown eyes... and a warm friendly smile... and wearing her comfortable fuzzy slippers... 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 already bustling me into her cluttered with knickknacks... cozy parlor... chattering away... saying that she was so glad... that I had stopped by for a visit... because she and her son... a professor of languages... at the Tokyo 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 roomy... flowery chintzy 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 soft bosom... where I knew it would be snug... and safe... and warm... and let myself be rocked to and fro... by her...

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...

Dear 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 about ten and a half... 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... about dear old Santa Claus... shattered... so abruptly... and so cruelly... by Papa... who very successfully... dampened my gay holiday spirit... on that very Holy Night of Christmas Eve...

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 quite bowled over... to see before my amazed eyes... a huge Mickey Mouse coloring book... and a large box of coloring pencils... to fill the pages with...! And there was even a small pencil sharpener... tucked away... next to the three rows of coloring pencils...!

I squealed with delight - she could not have made me happier - and I thanked her... from the bottom of my heart... gleefully anticipating... long happy 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 girlfriend Daisy... and all the other adorable cartoon folk...

As I left her house... after our usual... nice hot cup of tea and English Digestive Biscuits... and chat... during which time... she breathlessly told me... about how happy she was... to be going back home to Wales... after eight long years... of living in the Orient... the first four years in China... and the last four in Japan.... we hugged each other... in a close... warm embrace... of Goodbyes... and wishing each other a Merry Christmas... and a Happy New Year... with God's Richest Blessings... for the rest of our lives...

And skipping happily along... the huge... heavy book and coloring pencils... re-wrapped... and tucked securely under my arm... wondering where on earth... she had managed to find... such an American treasure... in the Orient... I suddenly realized... that I had never got a chance to tell her... 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 arrived back at the house... three things registered... all at the same time... hitting me like a thunderbolt... and bringing me up short...!

First... there was the enormous surprise of seeing Xenia... Prima and Remo... all already assembled... standing outside the house... bundled up in their warm winter overcoats... with their suitcases... at their feet...!

Second... I noticed my two suitcases... standing right next to Prima's... and 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 much 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 International exodus... at the end 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...

And the third thing that hit me... with a jolt... was seeing the front door firmly shut... making me realize... that I had left the house for good... when I impulsively left it... to go and see Mrs. Murray...!

So I would not get an opportunity... to say a proper... respectful Goodbye... to the dwelling... that had sheltered me... for a year and a half... and where I had endured much... within its walls...

And remembering my eagerly looked forward to intention... of wearing my lovely brand new Burberry... that day... just as I was about to ask... to be allowed to go back inside... to put the precious coat on... an enormous car... with Papa driving... arrived...!

And seeing his family... already gathered... waiting for him... he was very pleased... that they were all ready and packed... and organized... everything going according to his plan... when he had telephoned Xenia... that morning... telling her to be ready to leave... that afternoon... at three o'clock sharp... because he would be borrowing a friend's car...

And as we started for the car... with all our suitcases in hand... with me suddenly too shy... to mention... going back into the house... for my new raincoat... Papa suddenly 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 early 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 special 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 a godown... by Yoshito... a faithful employee of his... he broke my heart... by disappearing into the house... with my already treasured Christmas present... in his hand...

When Papa reemerged... a short while later... I immediately saw... making my heart sing with Joy... that he was carrying my treasured Burberry... and matching umbrella... which I had never worn... or used yet... because... for some strange reason... there had been none of the usual fierce typhoons... and flash floods... and terrifying earthquakes... that year...! And the weather... for November... was unusually... also on the mild side...!

But then... to my horror... making my heart sink... I also saw him carrying my ugly green... old threadbare... scratchy wool overcoat... a hand-me-down from Prima... last winter... which I loathed... and had deliberately hidden... behind my new raincoat... hoping that it would be forgotten... or even somehow... magically disappear... off the face of the earth...!

Papa's face was beet red with anger... and throwing my old overcoat... to the ground... and thrusting only the new raincoat and umbrella at me... practically shaking them... in my face... he shouted...:

"Is this what you think of my expensive presents to you... that you would just carelessly leave them behind...?"

And without giving me a chance... to explain away my innocence... and with no help from my family... who were all standing there... with stony faces... he curtly ordered me to open up... one of my suitcases... and put the umbrella inside... because... at least for practical purposes... I would be needing it...!

Then... making sure... to see that I obeyed him... as I stood there... crestfallen... and in shock... as if turned to stone... then in a daze... put the umbrella away... as ordered... with my heart breaking... I watched him return to the house... with my precious... lovely... brand new... yet to be worn Burberry raincoat... on his arm...!

And it dawned on me... that Papa had probably just seen it hanging on the peg... on the coat rack... in the hallway... and must have thought... that I did not really appreciate... his present to me... which I loved... and had yet to wear... and would definitely have put on... if I had gone back into the house... after my impulsive visit to Mrs. Murray's...!

And as I agonized... over how hurt... he must have felt... he was back... and picking my old loathed and despised... ugly green overcoat... up off the ground... which had already become too short for me... in the sleeves... and a little too tight... around my body... as I kept growing and growing... now already quite a bit taller than Prima... he contemptuously said... as he pushed it at me... and ordered me to wear it... shushing me quiet... with his upraised arm... as I tried once again to explain...:

"Here... this is all you deserve... and are good for... Prima's old hand-me-down... the coat that your Papa knows... you have never appreciated...!

Once again... you have proved to me... what an ungrateful soul you are... and obviously not worth spending... my hard-earned money on...!"

And without so much as looking at me again... he impatiently urged his family... to get a move on... and get into the car... as it was high time... that we were on our way... Xenia and Remo... to sit in front... next to him...

And as Hana-san just then... joined the family... panting and out of breath... Papa curtly ordered me... to get in first... wanting me to sit right behind him... so that he would not have to look at my ungrateful face...!

As I dutifully climbed into the back seat of the car... next to the window... feeling like a lifeless zombie... I felt most uncomfortable... and exposed... and embarrassed... and just wanted the ground to swallow me up... and was so glad... that Hana had missed seeing my public humiliation...

And then... to my utter... but shy Joy... my wonderful... kind... motherly... understanding sister... knowing how much Hana-san and I loved each other... and how precious... our last moments together were... gently beckoned... that Hana should get in next... and sit in the middle... next to her beloved Sera-chan...

Even though I had been subjected... to Papa's abrupt... insensitive actions of mental... and physical cruelty... for many years... although he never hit me... or spanked me... I could never quite get used to them...

And each time it happened... it was as if it was happening... for the very first time...!

And being a sensitive soul... my reaction each time... would invariably be the same sense of shock... and the same heartrending feeling of wrenching pain... and disappointment...

Soon we were all crowded... in Papa's borrowed car... with all our suitcases... stored away... in the roomy boot... at the back... and on our way to catch the train for Nagasaki... with Hana-san... sitting in the middle... very puzzled... that her dear "chiisai Sera-chan"... sitting by the window... to her left... was suddenly so unhappy...

And she took 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 her sweet little Kitty... and all the other "nekos" (cats)... while she was away...

Hana's words of reassurance... brought home the poignant fact... that in my sudden... rash impulse... to go and visit my dear friend... Mrs Murray... I never got to say "Sayonara..."... to my family of adored "nekos"... either...!

But then I thought... about how hard it would have been for me... to part... in person... from my beloved felines... forever... And I sent up a silent Prayer... that God and His Heavenly Angels... Please Take Good Care... of all of them... at the same time hoping... that He Would Continue to allow Kissa and me... to be united in our dream states together...!

And as if Xenia... was tuning into my prayer... she suddenly turned around... in the front seat... and said my name... which unique pronunciation... which only she used... always irritated... and annoyed me... getting on my nerves... and setting my teeth on edge...:

"Grad-zella... I sett Gootbai... to Kissa and oll herr children forr yu... vail yu ver visiting yur frend... Missis Murray... chust nau... so dont warry...! Dey tollet mie to tell yu... det dey vish yu a heppy hollidey in Nagasaki...!"

I was deeply touched... by Xenia's uncanny way... of tuning into me sometimes... and her unexpected words of kindness... to assuage my feelings of guilt... were so overwhelming... that I could barely thank her... because I was so choked up...

And I found myself hoping... and praying... that Papa now understood... through Xenia's opportune words... why the precious Burberry and umbrella... had been unintentionally left behind...

And then... utterly miserable... I felt sick to my stomach... that I had not heeded... that sudden Inner urge... to wear my new Burberry coat... before I left the house... which turned out to be... for the very last time...!

Why... I could have used the lovely new coat... as a very valid reason... to visit my dear old friend... Mrs. Murray... to show it off to her... just like I always had... every time... Papa came home from a business trip abroad... with a brand new... expensive silk kimono for me...!

Papa would have been so pleased... to see me wearing it... and would have never insisted... that I also take the old... ugly green coat with me... as well... Besides... both my suitcases... were now most definitely... already packed chock-a-block...

And sitting there... feeling miserable... in the loathed... scratchy old coat... which was truly... only what I deserved... I agonized...:

"Why oh why... are you always so thoughtless... always giving in to rash impulses... without thinking... of the possible consequences... beforehand... which often turn out so sadly... and so badly... for you... as they just had... yet once again... today... of all days...!?"

Chapter 14
A Brief Digression... Of Explaining The Miracle of SUBUD... To All The Specially Chosen... Blessed By God... Souls Of Mankind... Who Have Been Led... To This Holy Website... "SUBUD Stories"... By His Angels... In This Crazy... Dangerous World Of Ours...!

Years later... when my Inner self... was exceedingly Blessed... to be "Re-Awakened..."... and "Re-Opened"... into the Miracle of SUBUD... to once again... Receive the Great Holy Life Force... of Almighty God... which... ever since I could remember... I had constantly Felt... like a very familiar... Gentle Vibration... within my being... which I called the Presence of God... I came to understand... that it has become inherent in man's nature... to succumb to the detrimental influence... of his lower self... rather than to his higher self... which has become practically dormant... within his being...!

Because... in the Beginning... eons and eons ago... when we were first Created by Almighty God... we were in the habit... of naturally heeding... His Perfect Prompting... for our thoughts... and our actions... throughout the moments of our lives...

And this was evidenced... by our constantly being aware... within ourselves... of the gentle Vibration... of His Great Holy Life Force... Which never failed to Direct... and Guide us... Perfectly... for the moments of our lives... each individual... according to his particular... unique character... personality... and nature...

Thus... in following our Inner... Perfect Individual Guidance... being our Higher selves... and being Linked... to our Creator's Great Holy Life Force... we lived lives of peace... grace... and harmony... with all those around us...

But then we discovered... that we actually could use our own minds... and feel our own emotions... aside from our Creator's Guidance... and Direction... and becoming prideful... we came to prefer using them... instead...!

Consequently... since our imperfect minds... could not guarantee perfect thoughts... nor our imperfect emotions... be relied upon... to grant perfect happiness... in following their influence... we made mistakes... and gradually caused ourselves... more and more sorrow... grief... and eventually even chaos... of global proportions... throughout the centuries... of man's deliberate fall... from God's Grace...!

Still today... as our world... is becoming ever more violent... and chaotic... plunging itself more and more... into a vortex of darkness... through our perpetual wrong thinking... and wrong doing... stubborn mankind still insists... on relying primarily... on their own clever brain... and their own fickle emotions... without the Perfect Guidance... and Direction... of their Loving Creator...!

But even in these perilous times... there is hope... and men and women... have the opportunity... of having their Inner selves re-linked... to the Great Holy Life Force... of Almighty God... by becoming Inwardly "Awakened..."... and "Opened..."... to Receive His Benevolent Grace... once again... this time... through the Miracle of SUBUD...!

The Basis and Aim of SUBUD... is fully explained elsewhere... on this website... "SUBUD Stories"... and may those Blessed by God souls... whose shoulders... have been "Tapped"... by Angels of God... to be particularly Led here... to what I consider is a Holy Website... be richly enlightened... by what they read... and absorb... God Willing... with their minds empty... of all anxious thoughts... and the excited emotions... of their hearts... stilled...

To explain further... why it is... that Angels of God... "Tap" certain... Blessed by God souls... on their shoulders... to be led to SUBUD... through our "SUBUD Stories" Holy Website... it is because... it is God... and only Almighty God... Who Decides... whom of His children... are deserving... and worthy... to Receive this Great Miraculous Grace of His... Called SUBUD... which is offerred to them... absolutely free of charge... with no membership dues requested... ever... since Almighty God... Has No Need for money...!

Therefore... we do not generally advertise... for souls to join the vast SUBUD Brother and Sisterhood... existing today... in more than 100 countries... all over the world...!

Chapter 15
Getting Back To The All Important... Prophetic Date... Of November 9th 1941...!

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 - the land of Walt Disney... I deliberately pushed away the huge disappointment... in not being allowed... to take my precious Christmas present with me...

And as far as my lovely... expensive... brand new Burberry... was concerned... perhaps after the dreadful War was over... I would get it back... for it was actually a little too big... for my size... of the present...

(Interestingly enough... throughout the years... from November 1941... to 1945... while all our belongings... were in storage... carefully packed by Yoshito... one of Papa's faithful employees... every now and then... he would get a sixth sense... to transfer our enormous crates... from one godown to another... and every time he did so... that particular "soko" (warehouse)... 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...!)

Trying to ignore... being forced to wear my old winter overcoat... which always made me want to scratch myself... as its coarse wool... irritated my tender skin... I resolutely decided to concentrate... all my attention... on dear Hana-san...

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

My dearest Hana-san... 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... for me... on the pantry shelf once...!

Hana-san simply could not bear for anybody... to allude to her generous nature... to her face - calling anything that smacked of benevolence... a denigrating flaw of weakness... 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... after the very last lunch... he unknowingly cooked for us... 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 seasoned flour... in a flash... before lunchtime for her... giggling... winking... and whispering... 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 of 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... especially since his thick black hair... turned to silver... a few years ago...)... 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... when I was five... having to be bandaged from head to foot... like an Egyptian mummy... for weeks... 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 Kissa... and all her children... promising to shower them... with lots of love and attention...

And just as Papa stopped the car... in front of the Eki... she clutched my arm... and whispered shyly... startling me...:

"Dozo... Sera-chan... kioku suru anakta 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... who had been in my life... ever since I was five years old... 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... Why the very idea... was preposterous - surely Papa had been mistaken...!

Chapter 16
A Frightening... Too Close To Home Scene... At The Hectic Yokohama Eki... (Railway Station)... Makes Me Realize... As Never Before... That We Were Getting Out Of Japan... Just In The Nick Of Time...!

We all walked into the Yokohama Eki together... for the very last time... after Papa parked his friend's car... in the agreed upon area... of the parking lot... armed with our suitcases... 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 Eki... my ears suddenly assailed... by the deafening noise... of the hustle and bustle... going on... all around me... as an "eki no akabo" (red-cap)... relieved us of our suitcases... piling them on top of his already loaded down luggage cart...

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 strictly to be adhered to... newly imposed... six o'clock curfew...!

And the confusion of the "akabos"... 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 exhilarating...

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 involuntary 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... and that she too had vanished... into the swirling crowd around us...!

I panicked... my heart thumping to beat the band... chewing my already bitten down to the quick... bloody nails... and thought nervously to myself...:

"Oh my giddy aunt...!"...

"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... at any second... I just stood there... in my odious ugly green... threadbare overcoat... which always made me feel embarrassed... and awkward... quivering with trepidation... my fertile imagination... running wild... feverishly thinking...:

Suppose the rest of my family... has already been detained... by the "keisatsu"...! They've been gone an awfully long time...!

And come to think of it... I haven't seen hair nor hide of Prima or Remo... either... ever since we arrived at the Eki...!

I was in an almighty quandary... feeling utterly helpless... 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...

And then a horrible thought... suddenly struck me... that since I was such a useless "dumb cluck"... and a continuing brainless source... of such enormous disappointment to Papa... and a waste of his hard earned money... as he so often had told me... even just that afternoon...he must have finally washed his hands of me... for good...!

And that... at that very moment... he was probably already on another train... with his useful... smart family... who were worthy... of every penny he spent on them... leaving insignificant... worthless me... behind... who cost him so much extra money in food... because of my voracious appetite...!

And as these dark thoughts... ominously engulfed my senses... as I stood there... in my ugly green... threadbare overcoat... all that I was good for... but still doggedly "staying put"... as ordered... I suddenly noticed... right opposite me... on the platform... across the railway tracks... a platoon of "Nippon no Heitai-san" (Japanese infantrymen)... dressed in their unattractive... drab grey uniforms... complete with field packs... on their backs... armed with rifles... slung across their shoulders... their combat boots clomping... and echoing loudly... as they proudly marched along in unison... only about fifteen feet away...!

This was a startling... frightening first for me... because up to now... I had only seen them in newsreels... in close collaboration... with German officers... training them... And the menacing sight of them... so close... and so real... made shivers... go up and down my spine...!

I was about to look away from the unnerving sight of the marching "heitai-san"... when they came to an abrupt halt... right opposite me... disturbingly close...!

And ordered to make an about face... they stood there in a long line... facing me dead on... their slanted... inscrutable black eyes... focussed just above my head... the expressions on their faces... impassive... their posture ramrod straight...!

Then... despite my fear... my interest had quickened... when I saw a mesmerizing transformation... take place... right in front of my astonished eyes...:

When every single person around... to a man... upon seeing this platoon of "Nippon no Heitai-san"... coming to an abrupt halt... immediately stopped dead in their tracks...!

And then there had been a sudden headlong rush... by a crowd of Nipponese men and women... and a smattering of children... towards them... where they were now standing to attention... in orderly lines... along the opposite platform...!

All the scurrying commuters... now harboring only one collective purpose in mind... all their frenetic intentions... to board the trains on time... to get home... before the blackout and curfew... totally forgotten... as they all... of one accord... paid patriotic homage... to their glorious "Nippon no Heitai-san"... defenders of their beloved Nippon... glorious "Land of the Rising Sun...!"

I watched... totally mesmerized... as each patriot... went down the line... respectfully bowed... in front of each "Heitai-san"... standing erect... as if turned to stone... seemingly oblivious... to the fervent homage... being singularly paid him...!

Then some man in the crowd... raising both his arms above his head... curling his hands into fists... shouted out... with great fervor...:

"Nippon No Heitai-san Wa... Banzai...!"

And like a resounding echo... a great roaring of voices... arose... men... women and a few children... altogether... enthusiastically emulating the man... all their faces wreathed... in proud smiles... as they raised their arms... likewise fervently crying out...: "Banzai...!" ... in unison... with some of them unabashedly wiping tears... from their shining eyes...!

And I suddenly knew... with an absolute certainty... that we were getting out of Japan... just in the nick of time...!

That is to say... if my family ever came back for me...!

Standing there... undecided... a quivering bundle of nerves... as I watched the "Heitai-san"... being praised... with such fervor... 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 with a yellow spade... inside it... 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...!" (holiday presents)

Thrilled to be brought back to normalcy... and noticing the appropriateness of Hana's gifts... I thanked her... bowing gravely... with a thankful expression of...:

"Arigato-gozaimasu... Hana-san..."

But secretly sighing... restraining myself with great effort... from giving her a huge hug and kiss... - displays of affection in public... are simply frowned upon in Nippon - it suddenly dawned on me... that Hana had believed our story... about a seaside vacation... after all...! Whew... what an enormous 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... dressed beautifully... in her best silk kimono... a recent gift from Papa... 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 delicious... ready-to-go foods... shouting out his wares... in a rhyming sing-song voice... as he patrolled up and down the platforms... this particular one... sang out... in a surprisingly pleasant... rich tenor voice...:

"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...!

And then... to my great relief... there were the familiar faces... of my family... all rushing towards me... with Papa impatiently urging me to get a move on...!

With the whole Rau entourage... reassembled again... when the train chugged into the station... screeching to a halt... with the family's quick Sayonaras to Hana-san... I practically had to be yanked on board... Xenia... suddenly most anxious to get going... herding me into our corner seats... with an urgent...:

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

I tried desperately to accommodate her... as she pushed me from behind... hanging on to the big beach ball... held tightly under one arm... and holding the little beach pail... with its spade in it... 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... comical 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... once again... to dearest Hana-san...

And after retrieving the precious ball... and quickly laying Hana's thoughtful gifts on my seat... leaning far out of the open 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 all choked up...

But as the train began to pick up speed... I realized... with a start... that we were actually on our way... and this was really "Sayonara" forever...!

And letting go of her small hand reluctantly... at the very last possible moment... I somehow managed to croak...:

"Sayonara kawaii Hana-san...!"

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 me with it...

Leaning as far out of the train window... as I possibly could... I saw my dearest Hana-san... 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 far distance...

"Sayonara... dear... sweet Hana-san... May God Bless you and Cook-san... and His Angels Watch over you both... forever and ever...!"

I was praying silently to myself... the tears now running down my cheeks unchecked - I knew that I would miss them both... terribly...

With a heavy heart... I sank into my window seat... and looked out of the window... with blind eyes.. not wanting my family to see the deep sorrow... on my face...

And when Papa... noticing my unhappy state... very gently told me... that I could now take my loathed coat off... I was very grateful...

And as the train sped... towards the port city of Nagasaki... my heavy... sorrowing heart 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 17
Some Meaningful Memories... Some Happy... Some Hellish... Including The Very Special Times... Spent With My Dear Angel Friends... Sitting Way Up High... In The Treetops... At St. Maur's Catholic Convent School For Girls...!

To me... the last train ride... I would ever take... in my beloved Japan... 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... with Hana's loving holiday gifts... sitting on the seat beside me...

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

Getting up... bright and early... every morning... on weekdays... washing my body... as best as I could... with cold water... at the little basin... in the "Chamber of Horrors"... downstairs... brushing my teeth... and putting on one of my ISY school uniforms... braiding my loose... gorgeous golden tresses... the one feature about my gangly... too tall self... that I really loved... back into loathed pigtails... which Papa sternly insisted upon...

And after breakfasting heartily... on porridge... eggs and toast... slathered with butter and "Hugo" jam... because my appetite for food... was always voracious... as I kept rapidly growing and growing... now almost as tall as Prima... I would arduously drag my bike... up the steep hill... flanked by dense trees... to the upper Bluff... which was always an unpleasant... painful strain... on my weak heart...

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

For I never ever tired... of happily cycling... along the magnificent stretch of the Bluff... way up high... overlooking Tokyo Bay... and 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 very top of my soprano lungs...

My Beloved Creator... Whom I had always worshipped... and adored... with every fiber of my being... ever since I could remember... and Whose Existence... nobody had ever bothered... to tell me about... but Whose Presence... I constantly Felt... inside my being...!

The Bluff was a majestic... wide... asphalt road... that stretched for miles and miles... way up above... and parallel to the Pacific Ocean... and Yokohama Harbor below...

Standing... facing the sea... the winding road... ran to the left... way down below which... were the harbor city of Yokohama... and the famous "Motomachi"... one long street... bustling with all kinds of little shops... and eating places... familiarly regarded... as the Shopping District...

And to the right... the Bluff stretched out into the countryside... sloping down to isolated fishing villages... and European houses... next to wide stretches of beaches... covered with snow-white... silky sands...

But whenever I came to the sloping International Cemetery... on the ocean side... to my right... where many an important figure... from Europe... 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 down inside me... were still not at peace...!

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

And these magnificent homes... with immaculately kept gardens... proudly displayed an exquisite array of exotic... tropical blooms... in myriad colors of reds... yellows... purples... pinks... blues and whites... especially after the long "Nubai" rainy season was over... during which time... the countryside would be covered with softly sprinkling rain... for days and weeks on end...

And fronting the wide boulevard... attractively lined... between each property... were overhanging magnolia trees... "sakura-ki" (cherry trees)... oleander and camellia bushes... their pungent scent... sweetly filling the air... as I happily cycled past them...

Each beautiful home... uniquely different... in its European architecture... was separated... by neatly trimmed green hedgerows... some of which bloomed all year round...

The only reminder... that one was in Japan... was the evidence of bamboo trees everywhere... growing wild... otherwise one could easily believe... that all these beautiful estates... were exquisitely being displayed in places... such as Hollywood... or Beverly Hills... in California...!

The mansions were of various national designs... no two alike... and they used to be occupied by families... of every nationality... under the sun...!

Then passing the wide dirt road... that led down to my left... I would wistfully gaze down at the ISY... where I had spent such interestingly formative years... from the age of about six... to the day of my tenth birthday... as a permanent boarder... mingling with a fascinating number of children... of all ages... and nationalities... from all over the world... who had lived in those magnificent mansions...

Cycling along... a little further on to my right... rose the distinctive... stately structure... of the Anglican Christ Church of England... now standing empty... and abandoned... where I had spent so many joyously happy sessions of Wednesday Practice... and Sunday Services... as part of its International Church Choir... blissfully singing Praises... to my Beloved Heavenly Father...

The Church had sponsored... and operated the ISY... nearby... now also closed... and whose chief administrator ... my dearly beloved... Reverend Reginald Percival Pott... who had come to Japan... as a young man... to teach the Shinto Nipponese... converting many of them to Christianity... had been the Principal...

Then a little ways further on... on the ocean side... were the Public Swimming Baths... boasting two pools - a small training pool for the kiddies... and a large Olympic-size swimming pool... for the older children... complete with bleachers for spectators... in which many rival school competitions... had been held...

And where I had happily splashed... on many an afternoon... in summer... competing in swim meets... often winning... probably because of my exceptionally long legs... and all the pre-dawn exercises with Papa... training me to become a world class athletic champion... ever since I was little...

And being passionately fond... of having my body immersed... in the Water of Life... ever since my adored Papa... had started taking me with him... to the Yayu (Communal Bath House)... when I was a tot... I had spent many happy hours... in the pool... perfecting my favorite way to swim... the sidestroke... able to glide along smoothly... for long distances... with only one scissors leg-kick... with my exceptionally long legs... without breaking water...

Then round the bend... I would cycle past the imposing General Hospital... whose patients were a motley mixture of Caucasians... and the more affluent Japanese...

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 re-braiding my hair... turning to my left... I would be free-wheeling down the steep spur... to St. Maur's Irish Catholic Convent School for Girls... which I had been attending now... for the past almost two years... ever since shortly after the ISY... had been forced to close its doors... because of the War... going on... close to sixteen months now...

And Remo... my brother... was being educated at St. Joseph's College for Boys... adjacent to the Convent... both establishments of which... incidentally... still exist today... with the Convent now known... as St. Maur International School...!

Likewise... after the War... the ISY reopened its doors... and is also still in operation... today... although slightly renamed... as the Yokohama International School...!

Daily pedaling 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 bothered... to tell 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 roof tops... 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 take care of 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... as well...?

I hoped and prayed... that these dear... fascinating people... in their millions... with their strange customs... and ancient traditions... and unique codes of honor... and integrity... among whom I had spent the past most enriching... and enlightening... almost 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...!

Aand 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... naturally made me believe... as a two and a half year old... that I was a Nipponese born... just like they were...!

Because of the fact ... that I was able to easily converse 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 having taught me the language...!

And strangely enough... feeling so naturally comfortable amongst them... I did not even notice... our glaringly apparent physical differences... of my being blonde... fair-skinned and blue-eyed... opposed to their black hair... brownish yellowish skin... and slitted dark eyes...!

But then... when I was sent to the ISY... as a permanent boarder... when I was six... and saw other children... my own age... who were similar to me in appearance... but clearly did not speak Japanese... as their main language... it was a huge shock for me... when I was naturally regarded... by them... as a fellow Caucasian...!

Also... 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 their thoughtless... hurtful... taunting derisive calls of...:

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

But also inside... where I knew I truly lived... even though I had always been very much aware... that all human beings on earth... were my true brothers and sisters... since we were all Created... by Almighty God... our Heavenly Father... as His children... no matter the color of our skin... nor the different languages we spoke... nor the varied religions... customs and traditions we followed... and practiced...

And as the sun began to sink lower... and lower... knowing it was time for me... to head back home... my Dear Angel Friends... One Flanking my left side... and the Other my right side... would Spread Their Beautiful... Gossamer 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 have loved to remain... with my Dear Angel Friends... way up high in the treetop... forever and ever... where it was so Peaceful... and gave me a wonderful feeling... of being so much closer to Heaven... my True Home...!

With great sadness... already at an early age... I had realized... how shallow of character... 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 the One Who Created them... Almighty God... but unconditionally... as they were supposed to... with utter trust... and faith in Him...

Unconditionally turning to Him... meaning that they would neither ask for... nor pray for... nor expect anything... in particular... from Him... for themselves... except that He Let them feel... His Perfect Will for them... as they surrendered all of themselves to Him... patiently... and sincerely... with total trust... and faith...

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

For I knew... deep down inside me... that Unconditional Surrender to Him... neither praying for... nor expecting anything... in particular... for themselves... from Him... was the Great Spiritual Secret... that would indicate to their Creator... and prove to Him... that His Created children... truly loved... trusted... and had faith in Him...!

And as their Heavenly 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 unique nature... character and personality... and... Which they would feel... like a Gentle Vibration... inside themselves...

Thereby... they would be able to Receive... His Perfect Guidance... from within themselves... so that they would become happy... and content... to have Him Perfectly Direct... the moments of their lives... lives that would become full of Grace... Peace... and Harmony... as He Perfectly Guided them... in all they thought... in all they said... and in all they did...

Because I knew... deep down inside me... that... in the Beginning... when He first Created us... his souls... we had perfect Inner Communion with Him... as He Guided... and Directed... the moments... of our daily lives... Perfectly... each soul individually... according to his unique nature... character... and personality...

And that our fall from His Grace... occurred... because we gradually stopped listening... to His Prompting Voice... inside us... preferring to be guided... by the cleverness... of our own thinking minds... our proud egos... and the fluctuating emotions... of our hearts...!

Which sadly... being impure... and imperfect... caused us to think falsely... making wrong decisions... which caused harm... instead of good... and feel wrongly... with our fickle hearts... which are never truly satisfied...

In order to make living out my life... here on earth... continue to be more bearable... I clung to this hope... praying To Be Given the words... of loving compassion... and understanding... that would help me lead the poor floundering... unhappy souls... back upon the Right Path... and straight back... to their Loving Creator...

Help them find their way... back to their Creator... Almighty God... in the right way... which went far... far beyond... any religious belief... which usually... originally Ordained by God... became corrupted... and limited... because of man's flaws... in following the clever dictates... and limited understanding... of his narrow mind... his being swollen... with false pride... and his ego... full of self importance... and the unreliable... fickle emotions... of his heart... which are all his lower forces...!

Because of the fact... that throughout history... man kept making the same mistakes... over and over again... often in the name of religion... causing mostly pain... unrest... anxiety... and even chaos... towards his fellow human being... not very aware... that he was actually his brother... and/or sister... since Almighty God Had Created him... His child... therefore... He Was his Heavenly Father...

Alas... I felt so much... seeing how the rich... separated themselves from the poor... and how there was so little real joy... that came from the soul... in the human beings... I associated with... but as yet lacked the words... to truly express my sensitive... Inner Awareness...

Ever since I could remember... there had not been a single solitary soul... to whom I could express the core... of my true self... and feel as if we shared... an equally common Spiritual Bond... in our eternal love... for our Heavenly Father... Almighty God... always willing to be unconditionally obedient... to His Perfect Will... for us... with utter trust... and faith... in Him...

And that if we had a burning desire... within ourselves... it should only be... that we become... as God Willed for us... to become...

This depressing awareness... compounded more and more... the older I grew... as I felt... more and more... the reality... of my extreme isolation of spirit...

So often... I ached... with an almost unbearable longing... yearning To Be Allowed... to go back home... to my true Home... Heaven... where I knew I would truly be... among my own kind...!

And I would weep into my pillow... in the lonely dark hours... of the night... beseeching my Heavenly Father... begging Him... to Call me back Home to Him...

For I knew instinctively... that my increasing feelings of isolation... went far beyond the fact... that my coloring... was in such extreme contrast... to the rest of my family...

While I was so fair-skinned... and blue-eyed... and blonde... resembling none of them... except for our distinctive Roman noses... inherited from our mother... although mine was much smaller... by comparison... their darker complexions and looks... definitely defined them... as being members... of the same family...

Imagine my utter Joy... when all my feelings as a child... about the right way... to worship our Creator... Almighty God... unconditionally surrendering ourselves to Him... with utter faith and trust in Him... and patiently awaiting His Perfect Will... were Confirmed for me... when I was in my thirty-first year of life... through the Miracle of SUBUD...!

Because the SUBUD Way... of worshipping our Creator... Almighty God... is indeed... that we exceedingly Blessed... Created... and Specially Chosen by Him souls... are to be surrendered unconditionally to Him... with a feeling inside us of sincerity... and patience... and utter faith and trust in Him... neither expecting... nor hoping... nor praying for anything... in particular... for ourselves... except that His Perfect Will... Be Done unto us...

For He Knows each and everyone of us... far better... than we know ourselves... and Knows what we need... in order to become human beings... of excellent character... through His Perfect... Individual Guidance and Direction... with His Great Holy Life Force... Felt within each soul's "Awakened"... and "Opened" being... like a Gentle Vibration...

Chapter 18
Living On The Spectacular Bluff... Of Yokohama... Amidst Ferocious Typhoons... Devastating Floods... And Terrifying Earthquakes... That Would Occur Yearly... During The "Noroubeki Tsuki"... the "Cursed Months"...!

Our last house in Yokohama... was situated towards the lower side of the Bluff... It was the first of four two-storey... European-style houses... all in a row... right at the bottom of a steep slope... which opened up... on its right side... leading to a little Japanese village... with the quaint name of "Kutsu-Kake" (Put On Your Shoes)... clustered at the end of our road... a little ways... beyond the third house... downhill from ours...

And facing our house... and below it to our left... was the short Miharashibashi Tunnel... running under the Bluff... through which one was led to "The Bund"... a wide boulevard... running along the Pacific Ocean... and Yokohama Harbor... with grand hotels... and a Yacht Club... fronting the seaboard...

Our house was a fairly large two-storey affair... made of brick... the first one of four Western-style houses... that had been built during the time... of the large re-influx of foreigners... to Yokohama... in the mid 1920's... following the devastating "Great Kanto Earthquake and Fire of September 1st... 1923"... which thoroughly destroyed the harbor city...

There were only three rooms upstairs... Papa and Xenia occupying the master bedroom suite... facing the back of the house... which had its own private bathroom... with modern plumbing... leading off it...

For some reason... which was never fully explained to us... nobody was allowed to use the bathroom... except Papa and Xenia...! So that we children had to fend for ourselves... in the small washroom downstairs...!

So that... if Prima and Remo... wanted proper baths... to bathe in... they would either have to go to a Japanese Yayu... (communal bathing house)... or to one of their best friends' houses... to do so...!

And as for yours truly... I would do my best... coping with giving myself a hasty sponge bath... with cold water only... while standing up at the small washbasin... in the dreaded wash room... with the awful... terrifying memory... of the previous night's torture... always hovering... at the edge of my mind... making me tremble... with fear and trepidation... of seeing another dreaded "aburamushi"... which might have remained behind... in the confining... "Chamber of Horrors"... closing in on me...!

But on Saturday mornings... after Papa left for the office... and Prima and Remo... went off to enjoy themselves... Xenia... defying Papa's orders... would let me... and only me... secretly use their bathroom... to my heart's content...!

Her gesture of pitying kindness... given to me... probably because... as I had promised... I had loyally kept the secret... about her false "Mask of Beauty"... ever since I was seven years old... when she shocked my sensitive self... to its very core... when I was exposed... to gross deception... for the very first time... in my life...!

And very grateful to Xenia... I would luxuriate for hours... in the steamy hot water... of the large bathtub... redolent with the perfumes... of the expensive bath oils... that she would let me lavishly help myself to...

And after my bath... feeling really all squeaky clean... with my long body smelling sweet... Xenia would delight me... by setting me down at her dressing table... and tenderly run a brush through my towel dried... squeaky clean... shampooed hair... making me want to purr like a cat...

And as she caressed my abundant head of hair... she never failed to exclaim at my glorious tresses... "choost laik engel's golt"... she would say... her voice hushed in awe...

Prima and I shared the other fairly large room... and the king size bed... right next to Papa and Xenia's master suite... facing the front of the house... with Remo occupying the spacious attic... where he had as much privacy... as he wanted... practicing his oboe... to his heart's content... and creating beautiful paintings... on canvas... in oils... and lovely water colors... and drawings... in his thick sketchbook...

Downstairs... as you came into the house... right in front of you... opposite the front door... underneath the staircase... was the small toilet wash room... which became my "Chamber of Horrors"... where Papa cruelly tortured me every night... locking me in... with the swarms of dreaded... dive-bomb... flying "aburamushis"... (Palmetto cockroaches)... which he knew... I was terrified of... ever since I could remember... and which reason... for my life-long... abject terror... of the loathed insects... would finally be explained to me... by my mother... when I was already well into my thirties...!

Refusing to tolerate any weakness... in his children... my stern pater firmly believed that... in forcing me to confront... my terrifying nemeses... I would overcome... my life-long terror of them... (Those petrifying ordeals... are more fully described... in a separate below...)

And down the hall to your left... facing the front of the house... was first Papa's study... in which the only thing... I was allowed to touch... was the piano... on which I was expected to diligently practice... for two hours every day... after school... and on weekends...

Then through sliding doors... the study led off... to a fair-sized living room... with bay windows... facing the down sloping street... beyond the path... and through another set of sliding doors... to an adequate dining room... facing the back of the house... with large windows... opposite the sliding doors... The living room was usually entered... through the glass French doors... facing the staircase and hallway...

The dining room was accessible... either through the sliding doors... leading off the living room... leading to a spacious kitchen... at the back of the house... behind the staircase... adjoining Cook-san and Hana's separate sleeping quarters... or by first going through the walk-through pantry... that led into it... where I spent a lot of my time...

Our house also boasted a lovely garden in front... and at the back... we had a fairly large area of wild brush... that ran up to a high hill... difficult to climb up on foot... because of the density of the bamboo trees... which peppered it... directly on the other side of which... was the International School of Yokohama...

Every single weekday morning... I had to endure the ordeal... of having to wheel my bicycle... up the steep portion of the Bluff - the exertion of which... usually resulted in a bout of unpleasant heart palpitations... later on that day - before I could cycle leisurely across it... and coast downhill to St. Maur's... about ten miles away... whose interesting classes... I had been attending for over a year now... experiencing the uniqueness... of being taught only by females... and nuns at that and... of course... weather permitting...

Speaking of which... I could well understand... why the Japanese people never felt... that "Shinnen Ganjitsu" (New Year's Day)... should be celebrated too heartily... because of the fact... that the month of January... usually heralded... the middle of the period... that to the superstitious Nipponese children... was known as the "Noroubeki Tsuki...!" (the cursed months...)

First of all... there were the ferocious typhoons... and devastating floods... usually attacking the islands furiously... from around the month of September...

Then in November and December... there were the added dread of terrifying earthquakes - I remember living through seven of them... in one night... when I was about six... cradled in the comforting arms... of an Australian sailor... who happened to be visiting... one of the school's substitute teachers... at the ISY... at the time...!

And then more frightening... whirling windstorms... fierce rain storms... typhoons... and petrifying earth tremors... lasting up until March... of the following year...

Then... as if making up for the previous... nerve-wracking six months... Mother Nature would relent... and shower the land... with the "Nubai"... the gentle sprinkling rains of spring... as if God... in His Infinite Loving Mercy... Was Allowing her... to Softly Pour Gentle Raindrops... out of a Gigantic Water Sprinkler... to nourish Japan's storm battered soil...

The Nubai would be followed... by six months of normal weather... including a pleasantly warm summer... except that was the season... when the treacherous tsunami (tidal wave)... could easily... and suddenly... overtake you... as you swam... blissfully unaware... in the Pacific Ocean...!

In September... or latest in October... the whole round of devastating typhoons... floods... and earthquakes... would repeat themselves... all over again... and the warning storm flags... would balloon up... people being warned... not to venture outside their homes...

And the schools closing their doors... made it all so exciting... especially for the Caucasian children... not having to go to classes... watching the fury... of the lashing storm... from the safety of their secure homes... from behind the locked windows and doors... of their sturdily built brick houses... except where earthquakes were concerned - for many a brick edifice... had easily toppled... during a severe earth tremor...

Many a time... the only way Papa... could get to his office downtown... was by rowboat... for the roaring floodwaters... would come pouring down dangerously... off the steep hill... in rushing torrents...

Fortunately... by the Grace of God... the waters never reached high enough... to do damage... to our ground floor rooms... the foundation of our house... having been built... with wise foresight... a good eight inches above ground...

The Nipponese... on the other hand... with their comparatively flimsy houses... made of wood and paper... were not so fortunate...

And there would be the pathetic scene... of a "chichi" (father)... coming home from work... to his "kazoku" (family) ... and finding his little "uchi" (house) blown away... by a raging typhoon...!

Or coming home... to find his little uchi... in a pathetic pile of rubble... from an earth-shaking "jishin" (earthquake)... or charred and smoking... from a "hi no yona taika" (fiery conflagration)... with his "tsuma" (wife)... and "kodomo" (children)... cowering in fear beside it... was quite commonplace...

And one would often hear the siren of the "shobotai" (fire brigade)... as yet another little match-box "Nippon no uchi" (Japanese house)... in yet another little "Nippon no mura" (Japanese village)... burst into flames... engulfing several more "uchis"... alongside it... like dominoes falling... before the "okoru no jigoku" (raging inferno)... could be put out...

However... before you could say "Jack Robinson"... and before the smoke... had cleared away completely... there would already be another little "uchi"... going up in its place...!

If you recall... there was that most accurate... descriptive scene in the movie... "Teahouse of the August Moon"... (#812 of the Little Cilandak Video Library)... where Marlon Brando... brilliantly portraying a grinning... aim-to-please Nipponese... and the "sommin" (villagers)... showed the American military man... Glenn Ford... how they were in the habit... of erecting their buildings... in no time flat...!

By a process of first pre-measuring... and pre-cutting.. to their perfect dimensions and specifications... on the ground... the framework of the buildings... before they all pitched in... from all sides... picking up their designated sections... lifting them up in unison... allowing the pieces to come together... fitting perfectly... as in the case of the "chamise" (teahouse)...!

One might well wonder... why the Japanese... did not build their "uchis"... out of more sturdy materials... less vulnerable... to the fierce elements... but they are so steeped in their ways... of following traditional customs... that I doubt... whether it would have occurred to any of them... to fend for themselves... more prudently...!

Besides... wood and paper were cheap... and easy to come by in the country...

Likewise... their deep seated superstition... about living high up on mountain tops... where great... powerful "genkis" (spirits) dwell... makes them prefer to nestle their dwellings... into the flat areas of gullies... and at the foot of hills... packed closely together... like sardines... even though this exposes them... to far greater risks... such as dangerous landslides... from flash floods... or being swept out to sea... by roaring typhoons... and gigantic tsunamis...!

Chapter 19
The Great Shame Of Nippon... Being Their Inhumane Treatment... Of The Helpless... Pitiful Korean... And Formosan Refugees...!

One day... I decided to take a short cut... to get to Miss Shapiro's... my piano teacher... who lived way down the Pacific coast... about a good twelve miles away from our house... This meant cycling through the Miharashibashi Tunnel...

And although Papa... had strictly forbidden me... to cycle through it... being Aries born... with an adventurous... pioneering spirit... that loves to explore the unknown... I reasoned to myself... that surely a teensy-weensy time... of barely three minutes travel... through the tube... couldn't possibly constitute disobedience... on a grand scale...?

Besides... I wanted to put out of my mind... the nasty episode of the night before... when I had jumped up onto Papa's lap... and asked him one of my "meaningful... soulful" questions...

Whereupon... as usual... becoming unnerved... he had pushed me off him... barking out those mathematical horrors... and as usual... my mind had gone a total blank... and I had become tongue-tied... And... as usual... he had snorted in disgust... derisively calling me a "dumb cluck"... and sent an ashamed... and always ravenous me... off to bed... without any dinner...

As I trudged up the steep... never ending... dreaded staircase... of "Mount Everest..."... which was always taxing... on my weak heart... disgusted with my brainless self... I chastised myself... for the umpteenth time... as to why I had not chosen... to jump up onto Papa's lap... after dinner... instead of beforehand... when I knew perfectly well... from previous similar experiences... that I would never ever... be able to calculate those six digit figures... in my head - neither by addition... subtraction... nor multiplication... as he expected me to...

But... alas... I was an impulsive creature... with an inquiring mind... and when something struck me... I always acted... on the spur of the moment... without much forethought... secretly hoping... that the next time... Papa would be different with me... more amenable... more understanding...

Praying that the next time... he would amiably suggest... that we explore... all the secrets of the universe together... as I cozily sat on his lap... in his big armchair...

I lived in perpetual hope... for a close... loving relationship with him... but... alas... although hope for a better day... always sprang eternal... in my optimistic breast... I always waited in vain...

Fortunately... I had not starved that night... for dear Hana-san... had thrown a small stone... up at our bedroom window... and when I had opened it... puzzled... there on the end of a long bamboo stick... she was holding... standing on tiptoe... was a bundle of Japanese delicacies for me... and even a cup of delicious green "cha" (tea)... in a sealed red lacquer bowl...!

So reasoning... I blithely set forth on my bike... into the tunnel... eager for the brand new adventure to begin... I must admit... it was a little scary... at the outset... cycling through pitch blackness... with a sense of the narrow dank walls... closing in on me...

But then almost immediately... I could see the glorious blue expanse... of the Pacific Ocean... straight ahead of me...!

And suddenly filled with the exuberance... of beholding God's Magnificence... my voice welling up in my chest... about to burst into songs of praise to Him... as the bracing sea breezes... hit my face... I swept out into the open... braking to an abrupt stop... at the edge of the wide boulevard... of the breathtaking Bund...

As I first looked to my left... for oncoming traffic - cars hardly seen these days... because of the petrol shortage... once again stepping up the use of riki-shas... mostly between the harbor piers... and the grandiose hotels... as a novel experience... for many first time travelers to Japan... and up and down the streets of downtown Yokohama...

And seeing one of the riki-sha runners... trotting towards me... making me marvel... yet again... at the bulge of their well developed leg muscles... reminded me of a comical anecdote..:

The true story goes... that there was a very prim and proper English lady... who was late for an appointment... at the Grand Hotel... and flustered... she hailed a riki-sha...

And in her agitation... she kept urging the poor man to "isogu... isogu!" (hurry up)... And then she suddenly noticed... that he had trotted beyond the hotel... her destination... and in her exasperation... she shouted out... waving her arms about frantically...:

"O-shiri...! O-shiri...!"

Her sudden outburst... startled the porter... making him cast a quick glance behind him...

Noticing nothing wrong... he kept on going... And his passenger... quite at her wit's end... kept screaming the same words...

And every time she... becoming quite hysterical... screamed...:

"O-shiri...! O-shiri...!"

... the poor man... quite bewildered by now... kept darting backward glances...

Until finally... quite beside himself... with all her insistent screaming... of "O-shiri...! O-shiri...!" ... he brought his riki-sha... to an abrupt stop... muttered a few curses... turned around... giving her a dirty look... and pulled down his "pantsu"... to examine what was wrong with his o-shiri... thus exposing his great big shiny white bottom to her...!

And the lady... shocked out of her wits... at the sight of his naked behind... had swooned away...!

Apparently... in her gross agitation... she had confused the two similar sounding words... "O-shiri"... meaning "backside"... and "U-shiro"... meaning "go back"...!

Once again... I was admiring the elegant hotels... basking in the sun - the "Grand" and the "Bund" - proudly facing out to sea... on the ocean side... of the wide boulevard... and the Yacht Club... nestled right next to them... with its boats of every description... gently bobbing up and down... in the blue... blue water...

Then looking to my right... before proceeding down the coast... before I could take off... I was suddenly attacked from the side... by pairs of grubby hands... clutching at my sleeve...!

And as I looked down... startled... almost losing my balance... on my saddle seat... I was shocked to the very depths of my soul... to see a number of filthy dirty ragamuffins... of indeterminate sex and ages... all skin and bones... their puny shivering frames... barely covered... in nothing but filthy... stinking rags...!

And then my heart gave a lurch... when I noticed beyond them... right beside the mouth of the tunnel... to my left... huddled in ramshackle hovels... fashioned of nothing... but flimsy thin sheets of corrugated tin and cardboard... unprotected... and wide open to the elements... the pathetic figures... of barely recognizable.... adult human beings...!

These pathetic creatures were... in all probability... the youngsters' parents... and no doubt... yet another family... of destitute Korean... or Formosan refugees... that dotted the nation... usually found on the outskirts... of the major cities... pitifully eking out their living... in obtaining their meager subsistence... as beggars...!

Once again... the horrible realization... punched me in my stomach... that the noble Nipponese... whom I had always been led to believe... from all the Samurai movies... and folklore... my succession of village Amahs had told me about... ever since I was a tot... had become a heartless... and cruel nation...!

Remembering all about how... for centuries... the Shoguns in power... had practiced honorable codes of ethics... towards their fellow man... generously sharing their wealth... with those they ruled over... justly and wisely... could be so brutal now... in the twentieth century...!

And for the umpteenth time... I asked myself... why it was... that the Koreans... and the Formosans... were so greatly despised... by the Nipponese... in their eyes... regarded so contemptuously... as the utter dregs of humanity...!

And why it was... that these conquered people... born with such gentle souls - Formosa known as "the Land of the Morning Calm" - and with a reputation... as lovers of peace... and for their abhorrence of warring... were ever a perpetual thorn in their sides...!

When the children all rushed towards me... almost unseating me... as they tugged on my sleeve... begging... my heart almost broke in two... to see their pitiful plight...:

"Ijin-san...! Ijin-san... tama tama okure...!" (foreigner... foreigner... please give me some money)...

And I gladly emptied my pockets... of what little spending money... Prima had given me that morning... of her own pocket money... having woken up... with a strong feeling... inside me... that she should give me some...!

And as I cycled down the coast... I recalled Papa's glowing stories... about the beauty... of those two countries... especially Formosa... and how colorful and uniquely exquisite... their native costumes were... as they gracefully danced their traditional dances... to the beautiful poetry... of their music... so calming to the soul...

Although I never cycled through the Miharashibashi Tunnel again... I could never allow myself... to blot out the vision... of the pitiful sight... of the destitute refugees... I had seen... and embarked on a nightly routine... of coercing Cook-san... to take them some of our leftover food...

Well versed... in how to influence the Japanese... to do one's bidding... against their own normal will... every night... before dinner... I made it my business... to sneak into the kitchen... and go through the whole lengthy ritual... of first greeting Cook-san... bowing respectfully... complimenting his cooking...

Then in between some more grave... low... and most reverent... bending-down-from-the-waist bows... waxing eloquently... about his expansive... "kandaina no seishin..." (generous soul)... with him no doubt descended... from most honorable... and "koshona sosen" (noble ancestors)... etc... etc... I would make my pitch...

So that by the time I asked his "koshona no seishin" (noble soul) ... to "dozo..." (please)... go through the Miharashibashi Tunnel... and take some "tabemono" (food) ... to my friends... in their makeshift hovels... beside the tunnel... he would be beaming all over... bowing deferentially to me... happily eager to do... whatever I bid him...!

But I could never cycle through that tunnel again... could not bear to see that heartbreaking scene... of abject poverty... and pitiful destitution...

And from then on... I took the roundabout way to Miss Shapiro's... being a difference... of about nine more miles...

First cycling down our road... then going through the hair-raising ordeal... of pedaling through the teeming... narrow dirt road of Kutsu-Kake... where my face had become very familiar... to all and sundry...

Hiding the consternation... I was feeling... my heart beating with excitement... I would nod my head nonchalantly... in smiling greetings of "Konnichi-wa" (hello/good day/good afternoon)... now to my left... now to my right... as if I didn't have a care in the world...

At the same time... I was most careful... to avoid crashing into the hundreds of pedestrians... milling about... skillfully dodging my "tomodachis"... the "machi tabemono no urites" (street food vendors)... as they pushed their slow-moving "nirin-bashas" (carts)... ahead of them... selling their delectable wares... filling the air... with mouth watering... delicious aromas... as I cycled past them...

Chapter 20
Remo And I Encounter Rishin... The Village Idiot...!

As I made my way through the throng... on my bike... I kept a lookout for the "odd one" of the village... tall... handsome... with dark reddish hair... and very interesting blue eyes... whom Remo and I... had spotted one evening... when we took a stroll together... down to Kutsu-Kake... to buy some "hararago" (red caviar)...

Naturally believing him to be Caucasian... my brother had started up a friendly conversation with him... in English... And to his great surprise... the young man had reddened with embarrassment... rolled his eyes... shaken his head vigorously... his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth... like a mindless imbecile...!

Then muttering something quite unintelligible... he had darted away through the crowd... obviously trying to give us both the impression... that he was the village idiot...!

But our curiosity... was thoroughly aroused... and determined to find out who he was... Remo and I kept going back... through the village... every evening... at the same time... in the hope... of bumping into the intriguing stranger again...

And on the fourth evening... we spotted him... almost exactly where we had first seen him... easily visible... not only because of his red hair... amongst all the jet black-haired Nipponese... but because he towered above all of their diminutive bodies...

And this time... Remo greeted him in Japanese... and although the young man... was startled at first... by Remo's friendly manner... making some idiotic gestures... to dissuade him... from any further amiable overtures... Remo could see... that he had very intelligent eyes...!

Doggedly... he kept conversing with him... refusing to be put off... And gradually... the young man began to relax enough... to respond in kind... standing face to face... at the same height as Remo... but speaking only in Katakana Japanese...

Through subsequent meetings... he told us that his name was Rishin... and it took many more casual encounters... before he divulged the fact... that he was an "Ainu"... from the northern island of Hokkaido... and of a race... that had been greatly discriminated against... and despised by the Nipponese... for centuries... telling us a fascinating story... of how his ancestors... had migrated there... from the harsh climate of Siberia... centuries ago... becoming successful dairy farmers...

Ultimately becoming a very good friend of Remo's... who found Rishin... to be extremely intelligent... and gifted... they would spend hours... sitting huddled together... of an afternoon... in a little Kutsu-Kake "chamise" (teahouse)... or in one of the gay cafes... in Motomachi... sipping their little cups of hot green "cha" (tea)... out of laquer bowls... seriously discussing art and music... together...!

And through Remo's perseverance and efforts... the day finally came... when the "sommin" (village) of Kutsu-Kake... at long last... accepted Rishin... as one of their own... and he no longer had to act like the harmless "sommin no hakuchi" (village idiot)... in order not to be singled out... as a "kikenna no teki" (dangerous enemy)... in their midst...!

And it was Remo... who persuaded his friend Rishin... to get an education... even helping to enroll him... in one of the art schools in Tokyo...!

I hope he became successful... for he showed great sensitivity... in his charcoal drawings...

Chapter 21
Rachel... The Most Pitiful Girl... This Sympathetic Soul... Has Ever Befriended...!

Once I had successfully run the gauntlet... of cycling through over-populated Kutsu-Kake... I was very relieved... to come out on the other side... onto the paved... busy Japanese thoroughfare... along which ran the tramline... with tram cars trundling along... in both directions... every ten minutes or so...

Then glad to be safely out in the wide open... once again... having suffered no mishap... breathing freely once more... I blithely continued cycling along the long paved road... to my right... on both sides of which were Japanese stores... shops... hole-in-the-wall diners... and proper business establishments... one after the other... all the way out to reconnecting with the Bund... and a few miles further on... with a small European residential community... one of whose charming houses... facing the ocean... was Miss Shapiro's...

One morning... as I was leaving Miss Shapiro's house... on my bike... with her having rescheduled the time... of my weekly piano lessons... from the usual afternoons... to mornings... soon after I started attending St. Maur's... I was rejoicing... yet once again... that the time of my piano lessons... at eleven o'clock... happened to coincide... with the dreaded class of math... which I loathed and despised... and thanking my Heavenly Father... for my Deliverance...

Delighted to forego them... with special permission... from the nuns... not only for my piano lessons... but also for taking the rest of the afternoon off... because of the long distance... between St. Maur's and Miss Shapiro's house... as I was about to get on my bike... a very strange dimension... was abruptly added... to my already unusual life...!

I suddenly noticed an odd looking... cumbersome looking big girl... dressed all in black... standing stock still... in the next door garden...

She had quite the most enormous... bulging dark brown eyes... I had ever seen... and her thick black hair... parted in the middle... and growing low down on her forehead... was braided down to her waist... in two thick ropes of interweaving tresses...

She was staring intently at me... unblinking... her bushy black eyebrows... knit together... in a fierce... forbidding frown... and her arms were crossed across her chest...

Instinct told me... that she was putting on a defensive act... as a form of protective armor for herself... and refusing to be taken aback... by her menacing stance... I gave her a great big smile... greeting her warmly... remarking how pleasant it was... to see a fresh... new face... for a change...

And then I saw a remarkable transformation take place... right in front of my eyes... Her whole face softened... detracting my attention... from her enormous nose... and she smiled right back at me... her whole ungainly... big body... suddenly shyly self-conscious...

And being endowed also... with an enormous mouth... and thick... fleshy lips... although her teeth were small and pearl-like... it was as if she was indeed smiling... from ear to ear...! It was a lovely smile... which alas... was spoiled... by the way in which her ears stuck out so noticeably... otherwise she could have been quite attractive...

Shyly... she invited me into her garden... and as she introduced herself timidly to me... as Rachel... I could not help but notice... that she was almost as tall as I was...!

And it wasn't long... before she was babbling away at me... non-stop... scarcely drawing breath... her voice sounding somewhat muffled... and not very articulate... as if she had a great big potato... in her mouth...!

Hardly taking a breath... standing almost eye to eye... she was telling me all about herself... and her wonderful Daddy... who was American... and a doctor of the mind... having studied in Vienna... with the contemporaries... of the great Sigmund Freud... and whom she adored... although he was away from home a lot... at medical conventions... all over the world...

And she told me... how her Daddy... always returned home to her... with presents for his precious girl... bursting with news... about new medical breakthroughs... to help those unfortunate people... afflicted with mental disorders...

And she went on and on... giving me the impression... that she was somewhat slow witted... and a very lonely girl... starving for female company... closer to her own age...

And just as I wondered... about her mother... since she had not spoken one single word about her... the front door to her house... suddenly flew open...

And there in the doorway... standing on the threshold defiantly... with her arms folded across her chest... her whole appearance... exuding bitter resentment... her blatant animosity... assaulting my chest... like a physical blow... was a fair-sized... dark-haired... gypsy-looking woman... with enormous gold rings in her ears...

She would have been beautiful... except for the look of hatred... blazing from her coal-black eyes... as she yelled harshly... in a voice sounding Jewish... which was full of sheer loathing...:

"Rachel...! you naughty... bad bad girl...!

What do you think you are doing in the garden...? You know you are forbidden to go outdoors... without my permission...!

Come back into the house at once...!"

And I saw how the poor girl... instantly underwent a ghastly change... her face turning... as white as a sheet... And I could sense her whole body trembling... as she began to stutter and stammer... giving some excuse... about seeing the newspaper on the lawn... and how all she had done... was just step outside for an instant... to retrieve it... before the dog next door got hold of it... and tore it to pieces...

Her voice suddenly nervously high-pitched... with barely suppressed fear and excitement... her voice taking on a tone of irritating whining... it was becoming clear to me... that her mother... was growing more and more annoyed... and impatient with her daughter... the longer she kept up her jabbering...

As I stood there... my bike at my side... rooted to the spot... stunned by the woman's venomous outburst... Rachel suddenly had a brilliant inspiration...

Reaching across her gate... gripping me by my hand... making a great show of bravado... she proceeded to tell her mother... that I was the girl... Daddy wanted her to have... as a friend...!

And as I gaped at her blatant lie... shocked down to my toes... she looked intently at me... her huge bulging brown eyes... desperately beseeching me... not to give her away... her begging gaze... pleading with me... to go along with her...

And turning back to her mother... she babbled on... about what good fortune it had been... that I had arrived at her gate... just as she was bending over... to retrieve Daddy's precious newspaper...

And with a flourish... she dug her hands... into the voluminous pocket of her romper tunic... producing a somewhat crumpled bundle of paper...!

By the expression... on the woman's face... I could see that she had not believed a single word... her daughter was querulously whimpering about... but when Rachel actually produced the newspaper... her mother was forced to accept her story...

And as she reluctantly backed down... muttering something about tiffin being ready... and for her daughter to hurry up... and come inside to wash her hands... she abruptly disappeared from the doorway...

Rachel's success... in the unpleasant encounter... with her mother... gave her sudden courage... and turning to me... she pronounced that I was cordially invited... to tiffin with her... and that she would not take no for an answer...

And urging me towards her house... as I kept protesting... that I was expected home for "tiffin" - using her own quaint English terminology... for luncheon - she suddenly stopped... looked deep into my eyes... and whispered fiercely... the words coming out of her mouth... like a long drawn out sibilant hiss...:

"Oh ple-e-e-ase...! Don't leave me...!"

Her expression... was so intense... making me feel as if not only her whole heart... was desperately pleading with me... but her soul... as well...!

Thus began an odd kind of friendship... with an abnormally large girl... whose slight mental retardation... was a constant source of bitter disappointment... and seething resentment... to her mother... whose markedly ambivalent feelings... towards her fractured daughter... she never bothered to hide... in front of me...!

The very fact... that she could have produced a creature... of her own flesh and blood... who was so embarrassingly flawed... irked her sensibilities... no end... every time she glanced at her loathed offspring... so that her consuming hatred for her... kept smoldering dangerously... inside her...

Ashamed of her unappealing daughter... she had kept her a virtual prisoner... in the house... as she grew up... depriving her of a normal childhood... with friends of her own... until our accidental meeting... when she was... I was amazed to learn... only nine years old... for she was huge... for her age...!

And as far as her education... was concerned... her husband had wanted to enroll his daughter... at a special private school... but his wife had protested so vehemently... screaming that she would rather be seen dead... than to have the world know... that she had produced an idiot daughter... that he had been forced to accede... to his wife's hysterical demands... but first extracting her promise... that she would tutor her herself...

And for years... she had been cleverly... giving her husband... the false impression... that she was teaching her daughter quite well... during his absence... when all she really was doing... was subjecting her... to a great deal of verbal... and physical cruelty... slapping her about... pulling her by the hair... jeering and taunting her... until poor Rachel... became quite petrified... of her hateful mother...

It became a habit... for me to drop in for a visit... at their house... after my usual weekly piano lesson... which had actually come about... in quite a strange way...

One morning... when I was about seven... upon awakening... I was heard to singsong out... in my sleep... with great conviction...:

"I can play the pia..no... I can play the pia..no...!"

And when my strange utterance... was duly reported to my parents... Papa especially... was so impressed... that he insisted... that the ISY see to it... that I now also get piano lessons... just like Prima and Remo...!

And although Rachel's mother... was never very friendly towards me... in fact... barely civil... believing that I had found favor... in her husband's eyes... not daring to be outright hostile... she was forced to tolerate my presence... in her house...

And I would invariably have "tiffin" ... alone with Rachel... in the enormous dining room... which was always kept dark... with the heavy... floor length... damask drapes... closed... her mother intent... on hiding her idiot daughter... from prying eyes...

And after abruptly serving us... stern-faced... with plates of quite delicious... kosher Jewish food... herself... such as Matzo Ball Soup... and Gefilte Fish... being a brand new... delightful experience for me... she would immediately exit the dining room... never joining us...

Then I would spend the rest of the afternoon... upstairs... in Rachel's elaborately furnished... plush bedroom... which was decorated... all in soft pink frills... flounces and lace... that her doting Daddy... had provided... for his precious girl... with so much loving care...

Every carefully selected piece of furniture... in the light and airy room... from the delicately carved... rosewood chiffonier... to the elaborate gilt mirror... on her dressing table... was clear evidence... of his very special love for his daughter...

The soft... gentle atmosphere of the room... was so incongruous... for such a lumbering... slow-moving creature... who was far too big and awkward... for her young age... and whom it was difficult to match... to the ultra feminine... dainty boudoir...

And sitting on her lavish... four poster bed... surrounded by frilly lace curtains... Rachel would happily show me some new doll... or game... or book... that her precious Daddy... had brought home with him for her... from one of his trips abroad...

One momentous afternoon... with no inkling whatsoever... of the disaster... about to happen... beforehand... I had arrived... found the front door ajar... and nonchalantly walked in... just as Rachel's mother... her eyes blazing pinpoints of loathing... her face red with rage... was in the process... of bodily throwing her daughter... down the stairs... over the top gated railing...!

And as I... horrified... and aghast... and without a moment's hesitation... leapt up the staircase... to stop her... to protect Rachel... who had become very dear and near to me... shouting angrily... just as she... with her feet already off the ground... was desperately clutching at the rope of pearls... around her mother's throat... Rachel's mother... had suddenly blanched... looking over my shoulder... stunned... just as the necklace broke... and the huge pearls... went clattering down the staircase... in the deathly hush... that followed...

And as I turned around... to see for myself... what had so abruptly altered... the enraged mother's expression... almost tripping on the beads... I saw a very handsome... short... dapper man... with a bow tie... standing at the bottom of the stairs... whose face was registering... an expression of sheer shock... and incredulity... as he looked upwards... taking in the violent scene... of his wife... assaulting his precious daughter...!

I had never before in my life... seen such evidence of sheer loathing... of one human being for another... especially not a mother... for her very own flesh and blood daughter - at the time blissfully unaware... of my own mother's smoldering resentment of me... her shameful... embarrassing love child... who had caused her proud... imperious self... such a public scandal - and thought perhaps she was Rachel's step-mother... and not her real mother... at all... But such was not the case...

And shaken to my very core... and trembling with barely concealed... seething outrage... I had descended the stairs... held out my hand... and gazing intently... into his warm brown eyes... found myself greeting the man... as if I already knew him... saying what a pleasure it was... to be his daughter's friend... effusively thanking him... for bringing us together...!

Being an extremely intelligent man... he had quickly grasped... what I was trying to convey to him... and taking my lead... and my hand... immediately said... what a delight it was... to see me again... and how pleased he was... that his hopes of our getting together... had turned out so well... delighted that we were getting on so famously...!

And just as he was puzzling... over what name to call me... Rachel had wrenched herself... out of her mother's stranglehold... and was flying down the stairs... hurling herself into her father's arms... crowing how much she loved "Gra-zi-ella"... her very best friend... in the whole wide world... smothering her Daddy's face all over... with smacking kisses... and giving him great big bear hugs... almost toppling him over... in her eager exuberance...

Many a night... I lay awake in my bed... pondering over the strange karma... Rachel had earned for herself... to be born to a mother... who loathed and despised her...

(Blissfully unaware... that I myself... was loathed and despised... by my own adored mother... who... upon looking back... I realized many years later... had mostly ignored me... during the first six years... she was in my life...!)

And full of loving sympathy... I would sent up bushels of prayers... for poor Rachel...

And the upshot was... that her father had had no idea... that his wife resented her own daughter... to such an extent... for she had very cleverly hidden her deep revulsion for her... from him...

But from that day forward... he stopped going on trips overseas... realizing that it was dangerous... to leave his daughter... unprotected... while he was away...

And wherever he went... he made sure... that his precious girl... Rachel... always accompanied him... making certain... that she never ever again... was all alone... in the house... with her deranged to fury mother... who... consumed with sheer hatred... had ultimately gone quite mad... needing to be institutionalized...!

Many is the time Rachel's Daddy thanked me... with tears in his eyes... as the three of us tiffined together... in the now light dining room... with the heavy damask... floor length drapes drawn back... for befriending his precious daughter... and so opportunely... and for being so gently loving... compassionate... and patient... and understanding towards her...

There had been an incident... about a year... into our odd friendship... just before her mother... was put away... where Rachel had lost her raincoat... and fearing punishment... from her mother... she had blurted out... that Graziella had stolen it...!

And when Papa came home... that evening... he summoned me to his study... and gravely told me... that a Dr. Bernstein... had called him... at his office... to tell him that... he was terribly sorry... to have to tell him... but a raincoat of his daughter's was missing... and she had said that her friend... his daughter Gra-zi-ella... had taken it...!

And instead of scolding me... without waiting for an explanation... which was his usual way... with the exasperating... brainless "dumb cluck"... he utterly amazed me... by asking me... whether it was true... and if not... what did I have to say about the doctor's accusation...!

Whereupon... looking straight into my father's eyes... and at the same time... feeling terribly sorry for Rachel... I told him quite honestly... that it was not true... and explained how my new friend Rachel... was slightly retarded... and petrified of her mother... who Ioathed and despised her...

And I also found myself confiding... to him... how I had caught her... just in time... one day recently... as she was about to throw her daughter... bodily... over the gated railing... of the staircase... which had been erected there... because Rachel had fallen down the stairs... so many times... as a baby... and little girl...!

And to my utter amazement... Papa believed me... and not only believed me... but expressing sincere sympathy... for the poor girl's plight... discussed with me... how to solve the very real dilemma... for once... treating me as an intelligent... mature human being...!

We discussed the sad situation... very seriously together... neither one of us... wanting to cause any more harm... to the poor girl... talking about how... if Papa bought the girl a new raincoat... which he was quite willing to do... then the girl's father would believe... that I had stolen it... and that the label of "thief"... was something... Papa would never allow a daughter of his... to have attached to her name... ever...

We finally decided... between us... that I should persuade Rachel... to tell her father... the simple truth... that she had lied... about her raincoat... because she was so afraid... of her mother...

After our very serious discussion together... the very next day... Papa surprised me... yet again... by rewarding me with a present...!

And when I opened the large box... I was delighted to see... that it was a beautiful... expensive... Burberry cloth raincoat... the color of peacock blue... to match my eyes... he said... and there was a matching collapsible umbrella... to go with it...!

And I... now at the age of about eleven and a bit... thrilled to the bottom of my toes... to be the owner... of my very first... brand new such apparel... which was not the usual hand-me-down... from my sister... Prima...!

And wanting to thank Papa... with all my heart... as I took the lovely raincoat... out of its box... to try it on... and proudly model it for him... and turned around to face him... to my dismay... he had already left the room...!

And when I tried to thank him... the next time I saw him... at the dinner table... that night... he had brusquely brushed me off... with a wave of his hand... turned to his beloved... sitting opposite him... and given her his undivided attention... ignoring me... for the rest of the meal...!

Just like all the other times... he had never allowed me... to thank him... for an unexpected gift... always abruptly walking away... or waving his hand... to silence me...!

Instead of being angry... at Rachel's blatant lie... I was immediately sympathetic... and understood her blind panic... perfectly...

And I managed to gently explain to her... the next time I saw her... how a single lie... which once successfully believed... had a funny way... of leading to more and more lies... like a bad habit... until the day would surely come... when the lies would be indistinguishable from the truth...! Telling her also... that it was a terrible sin... to tell a lie... suggesting that she simply tell her Daddy the truth... about her lost raincoat...

Rachel's father... the doctor of the mind... was positive... that God Had Been Instrumental... in Sending me... into his daughter's life... and stated so... on more than one occasion...

And for a while... I had high hopes... that he and Papa... would become good friends - my dear Papa... and Rachel's wonderful Daddy - for he was an intelligent... deeply sensitive... kindly man... warmhearted and generous of spirit... to the extreme...

I felt an instinctive bond with him... liking the way he treated me... as an intelligent equal... But somehow... although I talked about him to Papa... a great deal... expressing my admiration for the man... both as a father... and doctor... hoping for a friendship between them... somehow it never came about...

I was secretly also hoping... that the doctor... being a professional expert of the mind... might become helpful... in softening Papa's mostly harsh behavior towards me... evidence of which... he would have discovered... as their friendship deepened...

Of course... the doctor knew nothing... about my personal... mostly Hellish... unnerving life... living under Papa's harsh... iron will... believing me to be a well adjusted... mature young girl... of ten and a bit... when we met... who just happened to be exceptionally tall... for her age...

Sometimes... I would catch him deep in thought... and would observe a violent shudder... go through his body... as he thought about all the terrifying agony... his precious daughter... must have gone through... during all those years... he was away from home... when he would be gone... often for weeks at a time...

Soon after the incident... with Rachel's raincoat... her father decided to leave Japan... and return to America... transferring his quite mad wife... to a better institution there...

I hope and pray... that Rachel grew up... happily basking... in her father's loving protection... and that the scars... of years of terror... inflicted on her... by her hateful mother... finally healed... with no drastic... traumatic aftereffects... God Willing...

Chapter 22
The Creeping Encroachment... Of The Insidious Tentacles Of Evil... Even Into Japanese Schools... Which Fact... I Find Out All About... In Person... While Being Protected... By My Angel Friends...!

We began to notice the gradual... insidious infiltration... of Nazi Germany's diabolical influence... first on the Japanese government... and then on its unsuspecting people... already in 1938...!

And when the ISY closed down... shortly after the outbreak of World War II... in 1939... the International families... whose children had been students at the school... becoming alarmed... had hastily vacated... their beautiful homes on the Bluff...

And there was a mass exodus of foreigners... from Yokohama... anxious to get back... to their respective homelands... And for a while... all the houses stood empty... except for those... still occupied by people of neutral countries... like the Austrians...

Then... to my horror... I noticed... one day - it was about the middle of June... 1940... when I was about ten - that the very same magnificent mansions... were now being occupied... by none other than... of all people... German army and naval officers... and their wives and children...!

Overnight... it seemed... the beautiful residential part of the Bluff... had become almost exclusively full of Germans...!

I also noticed... that they began to fraternize freely... with the Japanese people... spreading nasty rumors... and evil propaganda against... not only their arch enemies... the British... but also against all other English speaking residents... still living in Japan... as well...!

So successful were they... in their overbearing... arrogant influence... that the sad day came... when some of my very best... and dearest... and oldest "Nippon no tomodachis" (Japanese friends) ... whom I had known ever since I was a tot... suddenly turned against me... overnight regarding me... their "tomodachi Sera-chan..." ... as their "mikubiru no teki...!" (despised enemy)...

It was even being reported... on the news... that the "Dai Briten" (evil British)... were bombing schools... and hospitals...!

Thus it was... that England... became 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... still living in Japan... were not to be trusted... as well...!

So that even my "Nippon no tomodachis..." (Japanese friends) ... like Ashiya... Rokoya... Kunjio and Tenkin... 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... labeling me as a "fuketsuna teki no gaikokujin"!!! (dirty enemy foreigner)...

Overnight... they were casting aside the fact... that we had closely associated with one another... over a period of many years... since babyhood... playing together... conveying our secret hopes and desires... and sharing intimate confidences... with each other... as we grew older...

Countless times... they would come to my house... and standing under my bedroom window... call out...chanting...:

"Sera-chan...! Sera-chan...! Aso bi ma shoooo...!" (let us play together)...

And I would race downstairs... to happily join them...

And before we did anything else... we always played "Jan-ken-pon"... with each other... where... standing around in a circle... we would all clench our fists... and uttering the word "Jan"... swing our arms downward... then "ken"... swinging our arms downward again... and yet a third time... uttering the word "pon"... still keeping our fists tightly closed... repeating the process again... only this time uttering the words "Ai..." "kode..." "sho..."... with each downward swing...

And on the last downward swing of "sho..."... we would do one of three things...: either keep our fists clenched... signifying "ishi" (stone)... or spread our two middle fingers... in the shape of a pair of "hasami" (scissors)... or open our hands... signifying "kami" (paper)...

Thus we would establish who would be "It" ... for a game of tag... or hiding-go-seek... etc... by a process of elimination...: since scissors cannot cut stone... but can cut paper... and paper can cover stone...

In fact... when I first heard... how the English used the cruel words of "Eeeny-meeny-miney-mo... catch a ____ by the toe..."... at the ISY... I had been so horrified... and quickly suggested... the simple Japanese way of choosing "It"... which did not cast a slur on any race... And everybody liked it so much... that they started using "Jan-ken-pon" exclusively... thereafter...!

My "tomodachis" and I had even taken "ogosokana chikai fushi no yujo" (solemn blood oaths of undying friendship)... when we were very young...!

And now they were shouting out their blind hatred of me... derisively calling out...:

"Bakayaro... fuketsuna ijin-san...!" (curses be upon you... dirty foreigner)...

They even viciously threw stones at me...!

They would shock me... to my very core... every single time... I tried to approach any of them... earnestly trying to remind them... of our very special "shosho" (bond)...

But my insistent pleas would... alas... fall on deaf ears... our solemn blood-bond for life... suddenly making absolutely no difference to them...!

I had an overwhelming need... to understand the reason... for all my "tomodachis'" sudden... vehement... hateful animosity towards me... and decided that the only way... to find out for myself... whether all the rumors... about English speaking people... having fallen into bad favor... with the Japanese people... were actually true... or not... was to somehow find a way to hear about it... with my own ears... from the lips of a Japanese person... in authority...

So one day... it was some time in July... 1940... after hearing more news... that the British were bombing schools and hospitals... all over Japan... I got the brain wave... to sneak into a "Nippon no gakko" (Japanese school)... near by...!

Managing to surreptitiously sidle... into the back of a fairly large classroom... I crouched down... out of sight of the "kyoshi" (teacher)...

And heard... to my great astonishment... with my very own ears... very bad propaganda... against the British... the contemptible... lying "kyoshi"... glibly expounding his venom... to his class... in a loud... guttural voice of conviction...!

Calling them the "kikenna no teki" (dangerous enemies)... of their noble "Nippon" (Land of the Rising Sun)... and shouting cursing epithets at them... telling his pupils... how cruel and heartless... the "Dai Briten" (evil British)... and all those English speaking "Bakayaro Ijin-san"... were... those "norowareta teki...!" (cursed enemies)....

He went on... passionately expounding false propaganda... even to the point of telling his "gakusei" (students)... that the "iyashii no Dai Briten" (vile British)... were responsible for the bombings... not only of the "Nippon no gakusei" (Japanese students)... in their "gakkos" (schools)... cruelly and abruptly... cutting off short their budding youth... full of hope and aspirations... but of the "byoin" (hospitals)... as well... where hundreds of helpless... defenseless... sick and dying "byonin" (patients) lay... many of them innocent "onna" (women)... and "kodomo" (children)...!

Then... his voice changing abruptly... launching eloquently into what was almost poetry... the "kyoshi" expounded... at great length... on the virtues... of Nippon's great German brother allies... "Doitsu no fubo kara deta domeikoku"... calling them the "eiko aru sekaiteki kyokoku"... (glorious world power)... and "Adorofu Hitere"... the "jin-rui no sosho ni sukuinushi...!" (noble savior of mankind)...!

Crouched at the back of the class... I was absolutely horrified... to hear this adult "kyoshi"... who was supposed to be a responsible human being... tell his impressionable young charges... such bare-faced lies - why... I myself had passed by the General Hospital... after the devastating news... on the radio... cycling on my way to St. Maur's... and seen no evidence... whatsoever... of it ever having been bombed...!

Seeing with my own eyes... that the Hospital... was just as grand... as usual... in all probability... no British bomb... had been dropped... on any Japanese school... either...!

And it became crystal clear to me that... if these trusting "gakusei"... were being lied to... so blatantly... by their "kyoshi"... then... in all probability... other "gakusei"... were also being falsely lied to... in "gakkos"... all over Japan...!

And as I left the school... after class was over... ending with a rousing... "Nippon wa Banzai"... shouted out by the "kyoshi"... and his excited "gakusei"... I noticed... that walking among all the crowds... of much shorter "gakusei..."... I was Miraculously... seemingly unnoticed... by anybody...!

And marvelling... full of awe and wonder... as I freely strolled among them... I could not help but feel... that my Angel Friends... Had Caused my towering five foot seven self... To Become Invisible...!

Thereby Protecting me... a despised "Bakayaro Ijin-san"... from being questioned... about my foreign presence... on Japanese school grounds... and maybe even being physically assaulted... by just recently excited... to a fever pitch... impressionable... "Nippon no gakusei"...!

Chapter 23
My Own Personal Encounter... With A Bullying... Nazi German Boy...!

One day... shortly after... as I was cycling to St. Maur's... I was witness to an incident... that turned my stomach... where a snotty... blond German boy... in his early teens... dressed in traditional lederhosen... upon seeing a skinny little Japanese boy... of about eight or nine... walking past his mansion... along the Bluff... stepped through his gate... out onto the wide boulevard...

And noticing the distinctive... gold school emblem... on the pocket of the boy's perfectly tailored... dark blue school uniform jacket... he strutted up to him... and imperiously demanded... by his unmistakable gestures... as he stood towering above him... that he wanted it...!

And before my goggling eyes... I sickeningly watched... as the intimidated little Japanese boy... instantly... without hesitation... and with much obsequious bowing... and smiling... quickly whipped his school jacket off... happy to hand it over to the German boy...!

Smirking with his success... he then demanded the shirt... off the boy's back...!

And once again... without hesitation... and with much bowing... the little Japanese boy... quickly whipped off his shirt... as well... which the German boy arrogantly snatched... out of his hands...

Then... with a click of his heels... raising his right arm... and shouting... "Heil Hitler!"... and then dismissing the still bowing little Japanese boy... with a wave of his hand... the arrogant German boy... started to turn around... to walk back through his gate... now triumphantly armed... with an expensive school uniform jacket... and snow white shirt...!

And the little Japanese boy student... backed away slowly... from his arrogant... German aggressor... still facing him... now scrawnily bare-chested... still bowing... as if paying homage... to some super god...!

Witnessing the pathetic... bullying scene... with my very own eyes... made the bile... rise up in my throat... and if I had been able to speak German... I would have given... the overbearing German boy... a tongue-lashing... he would never forget - maybe even attacking him physically... and knocking some of his teeth out... for good measure - like I did with the lewd young "Daiku-san"... who had exposed himself to me... when I was seven... - even though this German boy... seemed to be as tall as I was...

But then... deciding not to degrade myself... by stooping to his level... I simply fiercely willed him... to notice me... glaring at him... but with such ferocity... showing all my feelings of disapproval... in the way I sat on my bike... that he suddenly noticed my presence...

And as my accusing blue eyes... stared at him... as if boring a hole... into his own blue eyes... he became rooted to the spot...! And after a while of being subjected... to my unwavering... steady stare... the insolent smirk... on his lips disappeared... and his face reddened with shame...

With my blonde looks... he obviously thought... that I was a disapproving German girl... and suddenly turning... he dropped the boy's clothes... and bolted through the gate of his garden... heading for the safety of his house...

And as he now ran... as if the very devil... were chasing after him... I gleefully hoped... with all my heart... that he could hear my triumphant laughter... following his pounding feet...

With him now gone... I jumped off my bike... and ran across... to where the little Japanese boy... was still bowing... and scooping his clothes... off the pavement... for him... I gently tapped him on his shoulder... startling him...

Looking up fearfully... and noticing that I was a "gaikokujin"... shortened to "Ijin-san..." ... and not only an Ijin-san... but a "mesu no ijin-san..." (female foreigner)... he tried to hastily back away from me... red-faced with embarrassment... for me to see him bare-chested...

But openly smiling at him... and speaking to him... in fluent Japanese... I persuaded him... with many compliments... about his noble ancestors... to put his shirt and school jacket back on... which he finally did...

Chapter 24
Shamefully... I Myself Become A Bullying Tomboy... As Tarzan...!

The shock of the shameful scene... just witnessed... for some reason... reminded me of the kind of bully... I myself had been... during my brief tomboy phase - especially towards one particular girl... over whom I had seen a great deal of tender loving affection shown... by her doting parents... a lot of hugging and kissing... displays of affection... that I was starved for...

So... one clear sunny day... at the age of about eight and a half... still towering above my classmates... as I kept growing and growing... I came up with the bright idea... of playing "Tarzan"... at the ISY... just having finished reading... the fascinating... classic tale of adventure... "Tarzan The Ape Man..."... written by Edgar Rice Burroughs... loaned to me by my oldest friend from babyhood... sex-crazed Pamela... one of the English students... (Our strange association... from babyhood... is more fully explained... in Chapter 30... of Part I-A...)

And all the eager girls... insisting that "Tarzan"... had to have a "Jane"... clamored to be my "mate"... quarreling amongst themselves... to be the chosen one...!

To be fair... we decided that every fortnight... there would be a new "Jane"... being selected alphabetically by surname... from "A" to "Z"... then from "Z" to "A"... respectively...

I had built myself... a make-shift tree house... out of bamboo... and when I had hit on the idea... of becoming "Tarzan"... loving the sense of utter... exhilarating freedom... I euphorically felt... as I happily swung across... from tree to tree... on the long ropes... I had set up - since there were no vines... as in the jungle - and fearlessly jumped off high roofs... and swings... and treetops... I was in my blissful element... and even flew a few times... actually staying in the air... once... for a breathtaking period of timed fifteen seconds...!

Everything went swimmingly... for a while... with my chosen "Jane" and I... happily acting out our roles... Until it was Amanda's turn to be "Jane"... she who was so adored by her parents...

She was tiny for her age... and the youngest of my "Janes"... but for some reason... she had singled me out... to love and trust... more than all her other classmates...!

And as "Jane"... she was warm and affectionate... playing her role to the hilt... trying to keep up with me... as best she could... hiding her fear... as I put her through her paces... swinging from the ropes... or fearlessly jumping off roof tops... a game little trouper... loving every minute... of being my mate "Jane"...

But the more she openly doted on me... the more my envy and jealousy grew...

I tolerated her devotion... during the first week... with gritted teeth... but then... during the second week... unable to get the picture of her... and her doting parents... affectionately kissing and hugging each other... out of my mind... I had lost all restraint... and engulfed with resentment... I suddenly pinched her arm hard... one day... startling her with shock... that her dearest... adored friend... "Grazi-Long Legs..."... had suddenly turned on her so viciously...

Satisfied to see her... reduced to tears... I had locked sweet little Amanda up... in the cavernous... dark interior... of a subterranean dungeon... as punishment... for not being strong... and standing up to me... with the same courage... as Tarzan had...

Consumed by anger... and unreasonably jealous... that she was so well loved... I gloated to see the look of fear... in her eyes... not only from the pain... I was inflicting on her... but from her terror of the dark... dank... forbidding place... when I clanged the heavy iron door shut on her... plunging her into pitch black darkness...

With a feeling of righteous anger... I ignored her pitiful cries... coming through the only small... barred window opening... set way up above her head as... sobbing... she begged... and pleaded... to be let out...

My usually soft heart... hardened... and I walked away from the dungeon... feeling immensely pleased with myself... full of a sense of deserved revenge... listening to Amanda's terrified cries... becoming fainter and fainter...

And I thought fiercely to myself...:

"Serves her right...! It isn't fair that a child could be so doted on... by her parents... and another - yours truly - gets no affection... to speak of... no hugs... no kisses... from her parents... with them divorced... then remarried... and happily living out their own lives... with their new spouses... sticking their unwanted children... out of the way... into a boarding school...!"

All of a sudden... I realized that I could no longer hear Amanda... but only a deathly silence... which seemed to get heavier and heavier...!

At the same time... I felt as if I was Being Watched ... by Invisible Beings... And Could Sense... Their Great Disapproval of me...!

Now full of fear... and trepidation... I wanted to hide from Them... wanted the ground... to swallow me up... but that... of course... was impossible...!

Then something inside me snapped... and appalled at my horrible cruelty... towards another human being... and one so innocently sweet... and openly loving... made me feel terribly ashamed...

And I raced back to free Amanda... finding that she had cried herself to sleep... And gently waking her... and taking her into my arms... I begged her forgiveness... with all my heart... for being so harsh towards her... and starting to cry... with tears of remorse... confessed to her the reason why...

And sweet Amanda... from Ireland... with her pixieish face... and curly black hair... looked up at me... with all the understanding love... in the world... in her unusual... violet colored eyes... and said the oddest thing... in that charming... lilting accent of hers...:

"My dearest friend... you may not be loved by your own kinfolk... but you will be loved by a parade of millions... one day... you'll see...!"

I had discovered my secret dungeon... one day... after school... as ever full of the Aries pioneering spirit... I had ventured up the hill... behind the ISY school grounds... for the first time... exploring around the dense thickets of bamboo trees... out of which... I had built my tree house...

As I groped my way through them... often having to squeeze my extra long body... between the unyielding... hard stalks... I suddenly stumbled into a small clearing... and saw in front of me... a downward sloping depression... at the end of which... was what looked like a heavy iron door... embedded in the earth of the hill... overlooking the Pacific Ocean...!

Curiosity getting the better of me... I pushed against it... half expecting that it would not budge... but to my surprise... it creaked open...!

And I found myself standing... above a huge underground chamber... the floor of which... was packed down with earth... around which there was a high... thick... round wall of concrete... probably built by the Japanese... in some earlier age of Shoguns and Samurais... as a protective fortress... against enemy invaders... from the sea...!

Or else it had been built... by either the French... or the British... as part of their garrison... way back in the latter part of the 1800's... when they were forced to keep some semblance... of law and order... during the first few turbulent years... of the early foreign settlers... prevalent at the time...

Seeing the receding back... of the German boy... running like a whipped dog... with his tail between his legs... conjured up the vivid image of terrified Amanda... cowering in the deep... black... cavernous dungeon... as if it had happened only yesterday... although my hoydenish tomboy period... was well behind me - abruptly ceasing altogether... on my tenth birthday... the memorable... never-to-be-forgotten Day... when I was baptized...!

I believe my baptism... on that Magical Day... had something to do... with the instant turnaround... from rough tomboy... to budding... soft femininity... although still awkwardly gangly... and long-legged... and too tall for my age...

Disgusted with myself now... triggered by having just witnessed the shameful intimidation... of the poor little Japanese boy... I vowed... then and there... never again in my life... to intimidate... bully... or browbeat... or seek one upmanship... of another living human being... or any animal... pet... or otherwise... for that matter... realizing... as never before... that all God's creatures... deserved to be cherished... and treated with respect...

Feeling greatly ashamed... with my own sin of bullying... staring me in the face... I fervently begged my Heavenly Father... to please Forgive me... for the error of my ways... promising Him... with all my heart and soul... that I would never contemptuously intimidate... another human being... ever again... and am proud to say... as I write here today... that I never again... committed that particular sin...

Always remembering... how I had felt... on that awful day... when I tortured poor little Amanda... so abominably... and the scene of the arrogant German boy... and the little Japanese student boy... as a reminder... of my fervent promise to God...

That had been a very black week for me... indeed.... and I found myself wondering... with an ominous feeling of doom... coming over me...:

"What is happening... to my beloved Nippon... and the secure way of life... I have known here... amongst the Nipponese... for the past nine years...?"

Chapter 25
The Closeness... Between Two Lifelong... Blood Oath "Tomodachis"... "Miko-chan" ... And "Sera-chan"... Is Suddenly Sadly Destroyed... Overnight... By The False Propaganda... Of War...!

When the first stone had been thrown at me... by Tenkin... one of my dearest and oldest tomodachis... a few days earlier... and I saw the look of utter... naked hatred... on his face... I had reeled in shock... unable to believe his sudden turnaround...!

And now... on top of witnessing... the nasty bullying... of the arrogant German boy... as I cycled on to St. Maur's... who did I see... but dearest Miko-chan... my very first tomodachi... when I was about three years old... who had been like a fiercely protective... older "kyodai" (brother)... walking towards me... from a distance...

And delighted to see him... and noticing how handsome... he had become... I smiled... and called out a friendly greeting of...:

"Ohayo-gozaimasu... kyodai Miko-chan... gokigen ikaga desuka...?"... (Good morning... brother Miko-chan... how are you?)...

And to my utter consternation... he had retaliated... by bending down... picking up a large stone... and hurling it at me... with all his might... missing my head... by mere inches... his coal black eyes... pinpoints of loathing... as he venomously shouted...:

"Bakayaro... fuketsuna ijin-san... no teki...!" (curses be upon you... dirty foreign enemy)...

I had recoiled startled... at first... by his unexpected violent attack... this close tomodachi of mine... of at least seven years... if not longer... this boy I had looked upon... as a dear "kyodai"... ever since I could remember...

And in whose house... and at whose low table... I had often sat... on the tatami... partaking of his mother's delectable dishes... and bowls of steaming hot food... an almost daily occurrence... until I was sent away to boarding school... when I was about six...

Miko-chan's beautiful mother... so dainty and feminine... would always first politely welcome me... enquiring after my wellbeing... gently saying... as she tenderly stroked my long blonde... curly tresses... with her soft hands...:

"Irasshaimase... Sera-chan...?"

And whose father... a business associate of Papa's... had always beamed his welcome at me... bowing greetings... both parents always naturally considering me... as one of their family...!

Why only last week... Miko and I had slummed through Kutsu-Kake together... stopping at each "machi urite tabemono no nirin-basha" (street vendor's food cart)... to lick our lips... over their delicious displays of "sushi"... "tofu"... "tsukeru tako" (pickled octopus)... "hararago" (caviar)... "kome kashi" (rice cakes)... "o-sembei" (rice crackers)... and "koebi no tsumeru nakiotoshi no kikanai tamago" (shrimp stuffed... hard-boiled eggs)... happily gorging ourselves... on all the delectable delicacies...

Then we had gone to a Samurai movie together... as we sometimes did... on a Saturday afternoon... And all throughout the parts... where there was fierce sword-slashing and blood-letting... depicted in vivid... living color... the blood always gushing brilliantly red... from the background of snow-white kimonos... as the characters... who had "lost face"... committed "hara-kiri jisatsu" (suicide)... I had clutched Miko's hand... like I had done countless times before... squeezing his fingers... thrilled and terrified... at the same time... my heart pounding... to beat the band...

As usual... I was feeling faint... at the sight of so much gory blood... and yet... somehow... the violent scenes... were again stirring vague... uneasy memories... in my mind... as if from the past...!

And whenever there was a passionate love scene... Miko would get all red in the face... and squirm in his seat... wishing he was a million miles away... anywhere but sitting next to me... where he could see how my eyes shone with admiration... for the handsome young Samurai... on the silver screen...

And where he could hear me sigh... with a mixture of envy... that the beautiful woman... the Samurai was wooing... had such a brave... fearless young warrior lover... who was so willing... to fight fierce battles over her... killing many enemies... earning for himself her undying love... and the honor... to be called by the title of Shogun...

And a sadness I could not explain away... feeling some strange kind of sense... that I had personally experienced... the very same scenario... so vividly depicted... in front of me... before... would wash over me...!

On that particular afternoon... after we left the "eiga-kan" (cinema)... I realized that the movie had affected Miko... more than usual... noticing that his walk was a little more like a strut... his body stiff and erect... his head held high...

And... just as I was about to pass a comment... about his odd behavior... he suddenly stopped... turned his sleek head towards me... and began boasting... how he... too... would fight for his beloved Nippon... and to the death... and woe to any enemy... who crossed his path...!

And as Miko... whom I had known... and loved... ever since we were toddlers... passionately orated away... his chest swelling with pride... expounding on how loyal a "Nippon no aikokusha" (Japanese patriot)... he was... his face took on a look of fierce determination... his slitted... coal-black eyes narrowing... making me suddenly realize... that I no longer recognized him... as my good old sweet-natured... kyodai tomodachi...!

For he had suddenly... and oddly... become like a stranger to me... and vaguely menacing... as well...! And to my consternation... his strange behavior... was causing involuntary shivers of fear... to run up and down my spine...!

It seemed as if Miko... was held in some kind of peculiar grip of fervor... until I asked him what about "ai" (love) - wouldn't he like to fall in love some day...?

And he became shy and self-conscious... his sallow features reddening... more like the Miko-chan I knew... and quickly changing the subject... said that he would have no time... for such a sissy thing as love... because he would be far too busy... being a good "aikoku-no heitai-san"! (patriotic soldier)...

But... if he did happen to want some female company... from time to time... he would simply go to a geisha house... and seek the company of a pretty geisha girl... who would entertain him royally... catering to his "ketsubo" (wants) ... and "shomo" (desires)... most satisfactorily...!

And then I asked Miko... what about "kekkon" (marriage)...? Didn't he want to have a "tsuma" (wife)... he could call his very own... and "kodomo" (children)... maybe even a "musuko" (son)... who would look exactly like him...?

Whereupon a veiled look... came over his slitted eyes... and he reminded me curtly... that he was going to be a "Nippon no heitai-san" (Japanese soldier)... for his beloved Nippon... and to the death... if necessary... emphasizing the last three syllables of "hei-tai-san"... by balling his right hand into a fist... and striking it hard... against his open left palm...

Hearing the fervency... with which Miko... uttered his words... his coal black eyes blazing... with the fire of conviction... made me shiver... as if he were prophesying... his own future... and suddenly I "knew"... that he would die young... would never even live... to ever fall in love... let alone have a family of his own...!

Becoming very sad... feeling as if my heart was breaking... I wanted to warn him... beg him not to join the "rikugun" (army)... but every time I opened my mouth... the words would stick in my throat.... And all I could do was squeeze his hand tightly... trying to hide from him... the tears suddenly springing to my eyes...

Sitting on my bike... reeling from the shock of Miko's ferocious attack... it became sadly apparent to me... that the poison of false propaganda... had already seeped into his veins... making him believe that... since I was English-speaking... I must now be regarded... as a cursed enemy... of his beloved Nippon...!

And therefore any friendly overtures towards him... were never to be trusted again - as if the past eight years... of shared special closeness between us... had never counted... never meant anything at all...!

And as I sadly turned my back... on my oldest and dearest... kyodai tomodachi... Miko-chan... and cycled off to St. Maur's... I idly wondered... whether Papa's long standing business relationship with Miko's father... had also subtly altered... for the worse... because of diabolical Hitler... and his tentacles of evil... overshadowing the impressionable Japanese people...

Chapter 26
At St. Maur's Convent School For Girls... With Dear Sister Theresa... To Whom My Very Special... Heavenly Angel Friends... Reveal Themselves... That Momentous Evening... Which Ultimately Results... In My Shyly Opening Myself Up... Totally To Her...!

The utterly repugnant episode... with the German boy... and the shock of Miko's hateful turnaround... had left me with a nasty taste in my mouth...

Miko's violent rejection of me... was the absolute last straw... and needing somewhere quiet... where I could go over all the shocking events of the past week... I decided to climb my favorite tree... after school...

Reminding myself of how happy... and at peace... I always felt... sitting way up high... in the branches of the tree... high up above the world... quietly communing... with my Angel Friends...

I often risked Papa's exasperated annoyance... swiftly escalating into anger... at not finding me at home... in his study... diligently sitting at the piano... practicing the tedious scales of Czerny... and Scarlatti... for two hours...

On this particular... fateful morning... I barely made it in time to St. Maur's... and as usual... was delighted to come face to face... with my favorite Irish nun... sweet-faced Sister Theresa... who had the most interesting eyes I had ever seen... Not only were they a beautiful grey... but they were also flecked with little dots of brown... and the way they gazed out into the world... with such a total expression of serenity in them... was always overwhelmingly impressive to me...

She had a soft... expressive mouth... that was perpetually turned up at the corners... hinting at a rueful sense of humor... as if she knew secrets... that nobody else knew... reminding me of the enigmatic smile of Leonardo da Vinci's famous painting of the "Mona Lisa"...

Sister Theresa's whole demeanor... exuded a generous... compassionate nature... in the way she spoke... so utterly charmingly... her voice so fascinating... with its soft... lilting Irish accent... and in the way she carried herself... always calm and deliberate... in her movements...

She always gave me the impression... every time I saw her... that where she was now... being in this Convent... in this strange land... where its customs and traditions... were so markedly alien to her... was not only where Almighty God Wanted her to be... but where she herself wanted to be... also... and with every fiber of her being... knowing without the slightest doubt... that it was the perfect place for her... to carry out her work... in devoted service to Him...

I had loved Sister Theresa... with all my heart... ever since the first moment... when her steady grey gaze... had alighted on me... lighting up with interest...

And as she quietly studied ten year old me... from head to foot... as all five foot six and a half of my awkward... gangly frame... stood before her... I felt as if I was basking... in the glow of her quiet radiance... Her soft eyes... looking slightly up at me... drew me... as if sinking into pools of quiet... still waters... And I felt oddly comforted... and reassured... by her tender look...

Somehow... I knew instinctively... that she had suffered... endured... and overcome much pain... in her life... And when she subsequently told me... of how she had had to bear the terrible loss... of her beloved fiancé... to the holocaust of World War I... in which he had been killed... confiding to me quietly... in simple words of conviction that... for her... there could be no other... my heart went out to her...

And how losing her soul mate... had left an almost unendurable... empty... aching void... inside her grieving heart... making her... in her anguish and despair... finally turn to the only Source... that could ease the overwhelming... crushing pain... in her breast... Give her a modicum of comfort...: her Loving... Merciful... Compassionate Creator... Almighty God...

And as young as I was... I had understood perfectly... what she meant... when she said that she heard His Voice... Speaking in her soul... and heeding the Holy Words Spoken... she had become fervently dedicated... to spending the rest of her life... in service to His Will... finally finding a little peace... in her troubled heart and soul...

Whenever Sister Theresa smiled... her whole face would light up... and even her eyes would twinkle... accentuating the spatter of freckles... across her upturned nose and cheeks...

And whenever she looked down... as during the Matins... before the lessons of the day commenced... the way in which her extra long eyelashes... would sweep across her cheeks... curling outward... would make her look very pure... and angelic...

And for some reason... I was unable to take my eyes off her... as I watched her... enraptured... as she knelt in prayer... her face full of the purest radiance...

And I remember how... for a while... envious of her serenity... I had actually seriously contemplated... for a brief time... becoming a devout nun... myself...!

Although I longed to bare my troubled soul to her... confide my innermost self... I was much too shy to... and didn't quite know how to express in mere words... what I felt... so deeply...

But then that fateful day came... when Miko shocked me... to the depths of my soul... with his sudden hatred of me...

And as I was having my usual téte-a-téte... with my Angel Friends... high up in my treetop ... They Gently Suggested... that I talk to Sister Theresa... Assuring me... that she would be of great help... to my troubled soul...

They had just finished Explaining Away... that puzzling day when... jumping off a swing... from a great height - parallel to the top branches... of a very tall tree - I had distinctly felt myself... hovering in the air... for a long... long time... before slowly landing harmlessly... on the ground...!

And now They were telling me that... Concerned for my safety... They had been present that day... to Watch over me... and Had Gently Supported my body... when I had so recklessly and fearlessly... jumped off the high swinging swing...!

And before I could react with amazement... at this Angelic Revelation... They Quietly Told me... that it was time now... for me to descend from the tree...!

And feeling terribly disappointed... because I cherished my very special Time... with These Ethereal Beings of Light... before I could ask why... because there was still about a half hour left... before the sun began to set... They Were Already Gently Flanking me... and Lifting me up... off the branch I was perched on...!

Floating me gently... down to the ground... as usual... I understood the reason... for the early Heavenly Descent... when I suddenly saw Sister Theresa... walking straight towards us...!

And her face was more radiant... than ever before... and her eyes were shining with love for me... as she gracefully sank to her knees... on the pebbled ground... unmindful of the sharp stones... digging into her knees... and bowing her head... in homage... to the Angels... she made the sign of the cross... across her chest...!

And I realized... with a sense of awe... and wonder... that my dear kindred of soul... lovely Sister Theresa... must have witnessed... my slow Ethereal Descent... from the mighty tall tree... on this Heavenly Evening...! And being Irish... maybe even psychic... perhaps had actually "seen" my Heavenly Angel Escorts...!

After a while... she got up... and without uttering a single word... and still looking radiant... she took me by my hand... and silently led me towards my bike... sitting propped against the tree... and gently nodding... as she turned away... she gave me a soft send-off... tenderly saying...:

"God Bless you... sweet Graziella... Little Grace of God...!"

I was absolutely flabbergasted... to be so Divinely addressed... for the very first time in my life... and by loving... dear Sister Theresa... and wanted to ask her... what she meant... but she had already gone back inside... through the imposing portals... of the Convent...

Being Catholic... Sister Theresa naturally believed in Angels... and Miracles... But being Irish... she also believed in the "wee folk"... fairies... goblins... gnomes... and leprechauns... always saying to me... with a twinkle in her eye... as she charmingly cocked her head...:

"Always Remember... sweet child of God... that all things are possible... under God's good green earth...!"

Trusting my Angel Friends implicitly... I did Their Bidding... and at the very next opportunity... when I found dear Sister Theresa alone... I took my courage in both hands... and first shyly asked her... about referring to me as "Little Grace of God"... that Miraculous evening...

Whereupon... gravely looking into my eyes... as if she was looking into the very depths... of my soul... she very simply explained to me... that the first part of my Italian name... meant Grace... in English... and that... even though I was so tall... she thought of me... as a little Grace of God... because she could clearly see... how devoted I was to Him...!

Sister Theresa being so open... and honest with me... and seeming to understand me... where I truly lived... gave me the courage... I needed... to tell her all about myself... and my strange... already most unusual life...

And thus... a very close... unbreakable Inner Bond... of Recognition... was forged between us... from that Miraculous Evening on... And I was finally able to share... my Innermost self... with another human being... for the very first time in my life... knowing that I would be perfectly understood by her...

How easily I can reminisce today... over the serious discussions we had together... about peoples' lives... and how they differed... from one another... We also talked at great length... about the Bible... and about different religions... and faiths...

And I would notice... in awe... how... whenever the word God was mentioned... a beautiful melting glow... would suffuse her features... making me see how very sincerely... she loved her Creator... just like I was always trying to...

And I felt that I could trust her implicitly... with my innermost feelings... and the unanswered questions... that continued to blaze... deep inside my soul...

The seven other nuns paled... by comparison... to Sister Theresa's devotion to God... and she and I... recognizing true kindred spirits... in each other... spent many happy hours... in contemplation... of our deep and abiding love for Him...

And whenever I would confide in Sister Theresa... as we sat together... on a bench... in the Convent garden... surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the profusion... of its blooming bushes... which she and her sister nuns... tenderly tended to... with their own hands... I found that it was very easy... to bare my perpetually troubled soul to her...

And I would seriously confide to her... how just reading the Word of God alone... and for that matter... going to church... as well... had never quite satisfied... the nameless ache... deep inside me... except... of course... for the times when... having been a member... of the Anglican Church Choir... I could sing my heart out... in joyous praises of love... to my Heavenly Father...

And how the gnawing... deep inside my soul... had been growing ever stronger... the older I got... and how it still continued... to plague me...!

And whenever I plaintively insisted... that something vitally important was missing... and that there must be something "more"... she would never scold me... or try to convince me... that the tenets of Christianity... whether Catholic... or Protestant... were the only true Spiritual Paths... to God and Heaven...

On the contrary... she would gravely gaze... deep into my blue eyes... as if she was looking... into the very depths of my soul... her beautiful grey eyes... full of innate understanding... and loving compassion...

And she would sincerely empathize with me... even to the point of gently suggesting... in that delightful Irish accent of hers... that...:

"My dear sweet Graziella... Little Grace of God... perhaps Almighty God... Has Some Special Way... In Mind... For You To Worship Him... Which Way... He Will Reveal To You... In His Own Good Time...!

Remember... sweet child of God... that The Ways of God... Are Mysterious... And Not Always Known To His Children... Beforehand...!"

And she would gently urge me... to be patient... and to continue to love God... with every fiber of my being... in my heart... in my mind... and in my soul... with all the strength... and fervor... that was within me... just as I had already been trying to do... all my life...

I even let her know... that I had always known about God... and Heaven... and Angels... ever since I could remember... without ever anybody telling me... of Their Existence... and how I had always felt my Heavenly Father's Presence inside me... like a gentle Vibration... and how... at times... when I was very still... and empty of all thoughts and feelings... I could Hear His Voice... Guiding... and Directing me... throughout the hours... of my days and nights...

So that it was the most natural thing in the world... for me to converse with Him... my Heavenly Father... at all times of the day... and night... confide in Him... share my different experiences with Him... at times... even asking Him... for His Perfect Advice... when something in particular... puzzled and troubled me...

I also told Sister Theresa... about my very special Guardian Angel Friend... and about the three different times... when He Had Rescued me... the first time... as I was about to be kidnapped... for the Oriental White Sex Slave Trade... and the next two times... when I actually was...!

And how... ever since the first time... when I was about four... He would always Speak to me... in my right ear...!

And it was so wonderful... to finally be able to share... my innermost self... with such a sweet soul... as dear Sister Theresa... who was so full of loving understanding... and reassurance...

And her encouraging words... would comfort me... and put me at ease... for a while...

Chapter 27
My Soul Deep Confrontation... At The Age Of About Eight... With The Good Man Of God... Reverend Andrews... Of The Anglican Church Of England...!

Confiding to dear Sister Theresa... who was so full of loving understanding... I told her how... somehow... the concept... that had slowly blossomed inside me... at an early age... was that the True Spiritual Path back to God... must surely imbue in me... not only a real feeling... of the Closeness... of my Creator... but also give me an ongoing feeling of "limitlessness..."... and a true Inner sense... of everlasting "Eternity..."

And how this positive feeling inside me... kept growing and growing... as I frustratingly realized... more and more... that I would never find... what I was seeking... in the Word of God... nor in the precepts of the church... and its teachings... alone...!

And that... by the time the certainty of my feelings... reached a blazing conviction inside me... that I was right... I was about eight years old...

Dear "Papa Bear" Reverend Pott... to whom I had always been his precious "Goldilocks"... ever since our eyes met... so meaningfully... when I was about six... happened to be away... at the time...

So that it was his relief... the good Reverend Andrews... who was destined to become the man of God... who would receive the brunt... of my soul-deep demands... to have explained to me... the true Spiritual Purpose of... for instance... having passages from the scriptures... read out loud... in church... describing events... that had taken place centuries ago... and what earthly true benefit there could be... for his congregation... in hearing about them... on this Holy Day of God... in 1938...!

For when church services were over... I saw no Miraculous transformation... nor beatific expressions of enlightenment... on the faces of the parishioners...

On the contrary... what I observed mostly... was the usual preoccupation of people assembled together... soon gossiping... and casting malicious slurs... against each other...!

Righteously enraged and disappointed... I had rushed back into the church... and confronted the good Reverend Andrews... with my churning doubts... and perplexing observations...

Demanding to know from him... as well... why there were so many paradoxes... and puzzling conflicts... in the Bible... such as... for instance...:

"An eye for an eye... a tooth for a tooth...!" (translation...: retaliation is just...!)

And by total contrast...:

"If one should smite thee... turn the other cheek..!" ... (translation...: retaliation is unjust...!)...

And the poor startled man... alas... could give me no true... satisfying answers... embarrassed... no end... to have a cheeky slip of a too tall eight year old girl... standing almost nose to nose... in front of him... asking such deep... heavily meaningful questions... such as should be out of the normal range of curiosity... of a child of that young age...

Then... to his great chagrin... hardly had he uttered his last syllable... that the contents of the Holy Book... were not to be questioned... when I was already asking him questions... about the Spiritual Truth... regarding "Karma..." and "Reincarnation..."

I also demanded to know... why it was... that every single prayer... uttered by the Reverend... out loud to Almighty God... constantly needed to end with...: "through Jesus Christ our Lord - Amen..."... which utterance... always irked me... to the very depths of my soul...!

And that surely there was only one Lord... and that he was our Heavenly Father... Almighty God... Who Had Created Jesus... also...!

And as the supposedly wise Man of God... red-faced... began to splutter... in indignation... I was telling him how... ever since I could remember... I had always been in perfect touch... and Inner communion... with my Heavenly Father... Almighty God... without anybody ever telling me about Him... and never even yet having ever heard about a Saintly man... called Jesus Christ... which finally only happened... through this church... when I was about six years old...!

I also demanded to know... why Jesus Christ... was always depicted... as a white-skinned man... with long golden tresses... and blue eyes... when it was clear... that he was from the Middle East... and therefore should be portrayed... as a dark-skinned man... with dark eyes...!

The good man of God... Reverend Andrews... had become quite flustered and annoyed... abruptly stating... that there were no such things... as "Karma..."... and "Reincarnation..."... muttering something about pagan... agnostic superstitions...!

And angrily had no response... whatsoever... to my questions about Jesus Christ being falsely portrayed... as a Caucasian...!

And exasperated and outraged... that I would dare have the audacity... to question... nay... even challenge... the validity of the church... in using the name of Jesus Christ... in their prayers... he had angrily dismissed me... with a wave of his hand...!

So I had gone away... deeply saddened... with my heart heavy and disappointed... that this man... this soul... of The One True Almighty God... who was supposed to be His representative... here on earth... could not... not even by a smidgen of an ounce... dispel my nagging doubts... to the point... of leaving nothing more to be desired... by my ever questing soul...!

Chapter 28
A Brief Synopsis... Of This Soul's Lifelong... Spiritual Search... For The True Path... Which Would Lead Her... Straight Back... To her Beloved Heavenly Father... Allah Almighty God...!

I would have to wait... another twenty-two years... during which time... I was constantly searching... for the True Spiritual Path... of living life... before my Heavenly Father... during my thirty-first year of life... Finally Granted my wish...!

Leading me first... through a labyrinth of unusual Spiritual experiences... apart from my bringing lost floundering souls... who had lost their faith... through disappointments... or tragedy in their lives... back to God... their Creator...

I would also Be Sent... by my Heavenly Father... to help troubled marriages... that He... for Perfect Reasons of His Own... Did Not Wish to become severed... and many other kinds of Divine Missions...!

He Also Made me a Channel... for quite a few years... for Divine Healing... attending to hundreds of the sick... and even dying... often witnessing Miraculous Cures... verified by before... and after X-Rays...!

And He even Sent me to hospitals... to help terminally ill... fearful souls... who were afraid of dying... to pass over to their Glorious... Heavenly... Eternal Afterlife...!

Even while I myself... was lying flat on my back... very ill in hospital... with my only one functioning kidney... having become badly infected... yet again... Angels of God... Would Appear... in various patients' dreams... Telling them to come to me... in my sick bed... to be healed... despite the fact... that there were all kinds of tubes... inserted into my body... the second time...!!!

This happened on two occasions... in hospital... the first in Salisbury... Southern Rhodesia... and the second... in Johannesburg... South Africa... a few years later...!

And on both occasions... curious to relate... the patients who were sent by God's Angels... to come to me to be healed... numbered exactly thirteen...!

Those two... most unusual... Miraculous Occasions of Divine Healing... of thirteen patients... while I myself... was lying gravely ill in Hospital... ended for me... for all time... the superstitious notion... that the number thirteen is unlucky... For if the truth be told... the number thirteen has always been very lucky for me...!

The Divine Healing of the thirteen patients... at the General Hospital... in Johannesburg South Africa... were to become my last... for quite a number of years...!

Because it was the Will of my Heavenly Father... to finally... at long last... Lovingly Bless me... most exceedingly... by Bestowing His Ultimate Divine Grace upon me... so that... not only would I Spiritually Grow... and Develop... according to His Perfect Will... but I would also become Purified... by Him... of all my many sins... some of which were quite grave... like "murdering" my precious son Marco... when he was a five month old fetus...!

"Opening..." and "Awakening..." my Inner self... He Filled my being with His Great Holy Life Force... the Holy Essence of which... I could feel... constantly Vibrating inside me... as close as a hair's breadth of a breath away... with the moments of my life... henceforth... Being Perfectly Guided... and Directed... by Him... even more Powerfully... than before...!

And which... unto this very day... some forty-seven years later... continues to gently Vibrate... throughout my whole being... all my Spiritual seeking... searching... and questing... finally at an end... for all time to come... through the Glorious Miracle of SUBUD...!

And this Spiritual Path... Straight Back to God... has finally given me... what I always have believed to be true...:

A very real Sense... of "Limitlessness"... and of Ongoing... Never Ending... "Eternity"...!

For the longer I sincerely... and unconditionally surrender myself to my Heavenly Father... Allah Almighty God... with utter faith and trust... in Him... the more I realize... that I know nothing... and that the only things I do know... for certain... are the Divine Truths... He Fills me with... from time to time...! For everything else... pales by comparison... and cannot be trusted...!

(All those Divine Missions... Given to me to carry out... by my most Revered Heavenly Father... Allah Almighty God... are fully described... in the sequel to this book... my Spiritual Odyssey... "From Seven Hells... To Seventh Heaven... SUBUD..."!

This great epic... covering this humble to God soul's life... in Europe... being Switzerland and England... and the dark continent of Africa... being South Africa... and both Southern and Northern Rhodesia... plus the Caribbean... and finally... the United States of America... is currently being re-edited... for the last time... although PARTS I to III... are ready to be read now... on this Holy Website... "SUBUD Stories..."... that specially Blessed... Chosen by God souls... are Led to... by His Assigned Angels... to be hopefully... greatly enlightened by...!)

Furthermore... those two most unusual... Hospital Healing Experiences... as well as Miraculous Events... about the Power of the Holy Word SUBUD... and that even at the ripe old age of seventy-nine... and still... by the Grace of God... looking twenty years younger... this humble to God SUBUD soul... is to offer her Healing Services... yet again... to all those worthy in the Eyes of God souls... who are led by His Angels... to this Holy Website... are fully described in this book also... in PART 3... under Chapters 20 to 25... respectively...)

Regarding the Miracle of SUBUD... here is a very interesting fact... that bears repeating...:

There were these three Anglican ministers... who were pious servants of God... and who were in the habit... of regularly praying together...

And one day... as they were kneeling... and humbly submitting themselves... to their Creator... in reverent... sincere prayer... Jesus Christ suddenly Appeared to them... and Proclaimed...:

"If Ye Seek The Truth... Seek Ye SUBUD...!"

Thus many Anglican ministers... from all over the world... became Inwardly "Opened..." and "Awakened..." ... into the Miracle of SUBUD...!

Chapter 29
A Very Embarrassing Incident... at St Maur's... During A French Lesson...!

One afternoon... soon after Miko's astonishing... turnaround... I happened to be sitting in the last class of the afternoon at St. Maur's... which happened to be my favorite French lesson... and... as usual... I was hard put... not to burst into laughter... at the extremely comical figure... of Sister Bernardine...

As she stood at the head of the classroom... towering over six feet tall... gaunt... her face as if carved out of granite... her strong jutting jaw... set rigidly... the skin across her cheekbones stretched so tightly... making it seem almost translucent... like a death's-head mask... her expression always stern... her movements stiff and awkward... she reminded me somehow... of a dry... brittle... creaking carcass... that... if touched... would disintegrate into dust...!

All these many years later... I can still hear... in my mind... her favorite admonishing expression... chanted in a low monotone... her bushy brows... always knit in a perpetual frown... as she loudly... in her booming voice... uttered the single drawn out word in French...:

"Si-lence...!"

This French word is pronounced... in English... as "see-lawn-ce"... which... like magic... would instantly subdue... the excited chatter of her pupils...

Sister Bernardine hailed from France... and spoke no English at all... so that her whole class was conducted... in her mother tongue... which suited me just fine... for being half French myself... I loved the Gallic language...

And I would sit through her class... enjoying the lesson... trying my best... not to look at her too closely... because her incongruously comical appearance... somehow... for some inexplicable reason... always struck my funny bone...

Unfortunately... during that time... and for about six months... I had developed the curious habit... of spontaneously spreading my mouth wide... in a momentary grin... even during winter... when the cold weather... would cause my lips to chap...!

Unable to stop myself... I would invariably grin wide... splitting my cracked lips open... painfully - funnily enough... it was only then... that I realized... that I had the uncontrollable habit...!

Come to think of it... all the members of the Rau family... had peculiar habits... that I had observed...:

For instance... whenever Papa became engrossed in a newspaper... or a book... invariably... his right arm would lift up... bending... and slowly creep up and around... behind his head... to his left ear... and beyond... until his fingers had reached his left eyebrow... which he would then proceed to caress rapidly... with his middle finger... in light feathery strokes...!

His beloved Xenia... on the other hand... had a charmingly coquettish way... of cocking her head down to her left... and patting her hair several times... behind her right ear... with the palm of her right hand...

Remo... whenever he was concentrating on something... liked to stretch his knuckles... until they cracked... and was also in the habit... of rubbing them with his fingers... until they had become enlarged... considerably...!

But Prima had quite the most fascinating habit of all...:

Whenever she was lost in thought... invariably... the fingers of her right hand... would curl up... and she would bring her hand up to her mouth... where she would proceed to run her curled fingers... down over the inside of her bottom lip... until it touched her chin... revealing the inside of her mouth...!

Then... still with her lip... curled down around her fingers... she would curl her lip back up... to its normal position... with quite the most elaborately exaggerated... side to side motion... repeating the strange process... over and over... until she was suddenly snapped back to her alert senses...!

Unfortunately... on this particular afternoon... as I tried not to burst out laughing... I suddenly gave Sister Bernardine... one of my involuntary wide grins...! And she... alas... without a shred of a sense of humor in her bony... flat-chested body... mistakenly thought... that I was making faces at her...!

Becoming incensed... she had glared at me stonily... then abruptly left the classroom... to lodge a complaint against me... to her Mother Superior - Sister Theresa was absent from the Convent... on an errand... at the time... otherwise I would have gone to her... to explain away my innocence - which led to my being given a disciplinary note... for my parents... before I left the Convent...

I knew that I was probably going to be in for it... at home... so trying to avoid the inevitable scolding... I decided to seek solitude... having found another mighty tree... and cycled to it... as fast as my legs could peddle...

My current secret hideaway... was situated way out in the country... in a huge meadow... And out of sight of the Convent... I always first undid my loathsome... restricting pigtails... letting my golden tresses flow freely...

Then... taking my shoes and socks off next... before stepping onto the luscious... thick carpet of knee-high green grass... loving the way it cooled... and caressed my hot... tired feet... soothing them... before I reached my sturdy oak tree...

Before I shinned up it... with my extra long monkey arms... just like I did with the mighty tree... on the Convent grounds... feeling an Inner affinity with all trees... I always embraced its thick... reassuring trunk... thanking it... for giving me so many wonderful hours... allowing me the honor... of sitting perched way up high... in its very top branches...

And as I leaned back... to admire its lush foliage... above my reaching for Heaven head... I would delight... in the way the soft breeze... caressed my cheeks... like an Angel's Kiss...

Since I fervently believed that... because it felt so cool... so good... and so peaceful... sitting way up high in the branches... so far above the world... I must have reached the half-way mark to Paradise...! And I always imagined to myself... that there were Heavenly Angels... Sitting with me up there... in this treetop... as well...!

And I would voice my churning thoughts... out loud toThem... believing that They were right there beside me... because if I was very still... I could first feel Their Holy Presence... then see Them... in their Magnificence of Gold and White Purity... and knew that I could confide to These Glorious... Ethereal Beings of Light... all the things... that were troubling my soul so deeply...

And this occasion was no different... For in no time flat... I was pouring out my heart and soul... to my Angel Friends... relating to Them... the frightening events... of the past week - all about how the outbreak of War... had suddenly changed things for me... causing a sense of disquiet... in my heart...

And how... during the past week... the perplexing mounting events over Nippon... my beloved Land of the Rising Sun... had suddenly accelerated alarmingly... and how I was still reeling with utter disbelief... that my tomodachis... whom I had known... ever since I was very little... out of the blue... without any provocation from me... whatsoever... had viciously thrown stones at me... their faces turned ugly... and twisted with hate...!

And among them... just a few mornings ago... had been my very best tomodachi... kyodai Miko-chan... who had become my very first friend... and like a protective brother... to me... when I was a mere toddler...!

And in confiding to my Angel Friends... the times in my life... when the complacency... of my world... had been suddenly... and shockingly disrupted... never to be the same again... I was reminded... once again... of the first time... it had happened in my life... when I was about four years old... when I was almost kidnapped... for the Oriental Sex Slave Trade...!

(When I wrote the above... over some fifty-four years ago... there was no memory... of the very first... tremendous shock... to my fragile psyche... occurring... when I was only about two and a half years old...!

Born to an indifferent mother... who carelessly left me... in the hands of a succession... of village Amahs... while she went off to play tennis... at the YCAC... they would cleverly brainwash me... into believing... that I was a "Nippon no Koi Mega-Mi" (love goddess)... born to give delight... to all "ningen" (men)...!

And they would sell my baby body... to rough... muscular... low class "Daiku-sans" (carpenter/construction laborers)... of the village... to be "inspected" by them... who had never seen such a long-bodied... white-skinned... "sozobutsu" (creature)... with golden hair... and blue eyes... before...

And for about two years... these terrifying... petrifying "shishatsu" (inspections)... and "kawaigaru" (fondling)... would take place... weekday afternoons... in the back rooms... of the little village shops... where my helpless... naked little body... would be exposed to them... to do what they wanted with... and even slashed at with their sharp shiny knives... curious to see... whether her "chi" (blood)... flowed as red as theirs did...!

When I was about seven years old... unable any longer... to bear the horrible... shameful memory... of those helpless... terrifying... afternoon ordeals... after being subjected... to yet two more devastating shocks... one after the other... one morning... I had begged my Heavenly Father... to please let me come home to Him...!

And if not... then to please let this be... my very last reincarnation... on earth... for I had already suffered far too many shocks... for one so young...!

And in His Understanding... Loving Compassion... He Had Mercifully Removed from me... all the terrible... terrifying... shameful memory... of my babyhood sexual abuse...

That is why... there naturally is no mention... of that horrendous time... in this book...

But then... just a few years ago... when I was in my early seventies... it was the Will... of my Heavenly Father... Allah Almighty God... that the horrible memory... be Restored...!

Under a separate segment... titled "Heavenly Visitations..." on this newly established... "SUBUD Stories" Website... there are some fascinating instances... of Heavenly Visitations... from a number of my departed loved ones...!

And included... is everything that happened... to my helpless little baby body... until I was about four... fully described... in ugly... disgusting detail... when my Heavenly Father... Allah Almighty God... Reunited me... with my beloved soul mate Richard... when He Sent him down to me... from Heaven... to help me remember... gently telling me... that before I left earth... I would have to face... and overcome... all the experiences... of my life... that had shocked... and harmfully seared... my sensitive psyche...!)

End Of PART I - Twenty-Nine Chapters

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