O+F

n Chicago and landed in

ing," he said to a cab

the ocean. It'

the driver said.

Portland-

Worcester, Mass, my

ke it o

ht. Beats sho

," Oliver said. "We co

in

the driver sai

e of minutes-off the mete

ere

be a big Japanese gar

l wa

nd came out feeling light-footed. He had a map in one pocket o

Park, King

city and climbed through a residential district.

own on that corner over

ghborhood trees and hedges were lush. A layer of cloud imparted a

mossy rock faces, handmade bamboo fountains, patches of flowers, and unexpected views. The effect was both wild and intensely cult

f the garden gradually entered him, replacing an inner deafness. When he stood, his knees were stiff, but he had become

ther shop that sold skins and hides. Oliver had never seen an elk hide. He bought a rattlesnake skin, five feet long, that

diate. Stringed music twanged of duty, consequence, and the inevitable flow of time. The waitress, middle-aged and respectful, brought him dinner with a minim

d the TV on and turned it off. It was better to lie in bed and

smiled and resumed reading what appeared to be a textbook. He had a glass of Chardonnay with lunch, but he was too wide awake to sleep afterwards. The pla

ead through the plane and the student became talkative. "There is tourist H

," Oliver said. "I gues

uses are good. You can get

o try and look up fa

found a listing for Kenso Nakan

eights,"

EV-Ah . . . That's

king over a large crater with a g

she said. She wi

now it was a crater. I ne

l. The tires jerked and the plane slowed with a rush of engines. They taxied to the te

liver said t

said, "good

first time without irony. Th

White clouds ballooned over green mountain ridges. Heat waves eddied on

d Oliver's neck and directed him to a bus where he waited half an hour while other vacationers collected their luggage and boarded in small groups. The fl

and a large shopping mall. They entered an avenue congested with high-rise hotels and condominiums. "Waikiki," the hostess announced. T

beach?" som

ss an avenue choked with cars,

for a moment. He was on the tenth floor, overlooking a side street. There was a building directly in front of him and more buildings in the direction of the beach. In the other direction

pretty beach, a gentle crescent that curved along a green park. In the other direction, back the way he had come, the sand fronted a strip of hotels. The waves were quiet, though larg

ominiums. The sand underfoot made him feel like a little kid. He retraced his steps and stopped by the first hotel that he reached on the bea

e! What k

the bart

nd looked out over the ocean. Maybe he should just be a tourist and forget the whole thing. He'd gotten along without his father this long; what difference would it

per body high in the air. Like a heron, Oliver thought. Holy shit! Wilt Chamberlain! Wilt looked patient, proud, and tired. A sports king, still holding his h

world-the Philippines, say-and disappearing. He could go to a village on a remote island and live until he ran out of money.

ould not let go. His spirit

shopping mall, stopping at a Tops Restaurant busy with cab drivers, early risers, and night owls winding down. He had half a papaya, served with a piece of

but it was early to be visiting. Should he call? No. That was too much of a commitment. He wanted to wa

omorrow, he told himself. He walked back to the

es. There were fountains and sculptures, a mix of tourists and islanders, and, at one end, a Japanese department store named, "Shirokya." He spent an hour in Shirokya

large sailboats were moored behind a stone breakwater. "Salty b

le deep right out the

r was evidently too s

nd considering his visit to Kenso Nakano. The next m

he smaller the island, until he began to sense that he was standing on a happy accident, a green miracle in a marine world. The planes taking off from the airport below him looked pun

liver was seeking. Two heavyset men wearing shorts, T-shirts, and baseball caps were easing a boulder from the truck bed on

e h

ty st

Excuse me,

Oliver approached and braced

?" one man sa

n," Oliv

hands under one edge of the boulder, bent his knees, and heaved. The boulder rocked and began to sli

, Mrs. Nakano. Kind

s like a challe

you w

ed throug

They walked the boulder through the gate and to one end of a flower bed. It took t

ock these days," Mrs. Nakan

nything else," o

helping," she said to O

r you. I think. Actual

has a bro

. "Muni is my

Oliver, Oliv

Jimmy. This is Kapono." The ot

license-serious of

orse," Ka

etty strong

hed the dirt off his ha

Mrs. Nakano returned

f you guys." She turned

trip. Can

hought. "I nee

after tomorrow. He is comi

, the day after tomorrow? May

will b

He drained his soda a

he said. He waved and

e down the hill

d," Oli

," Kapo

as in an upscale neighborhood. Ken Nakano was well established, for sure. You couldn't tell much from the house; like the other houses near it, the side facing the street was simple, almo

s radiated out to a coastal plain. Deep valleys disappeared into mysterious shade, wilder than he would have thought, so close to a city. TheBus returned across a central highland between two mountain groups. They passed a pineapple plantation, long rows of spiky bushes i

parabolas three feet over their heads. The women turned their heads like wild mustangs, laughing-counterpoint to their Asi

as eating and joking. It was Gomer Pyle-Jim Nabors. Wilt. Gomer. Gorgeous women. Oliver began to feel that this was the way

ning, Oliver called

uiet male vo

Oliver Prescot

es

ing to f

you helped with

se guys were p

coaches, phys-ed t

ha

business with

r knew him a long time ago. Did

ence. "That was

s my father and that he had a brother named Ken. I thin

were you born? Do yo

es, I ha

is in California, now. I will try and co

tel in Eugene where he would be staying for a few days the following week. "I

hat I can d

nk y

ile. Muni unpredi

it," Oli

ybe we get tog

that," O

. Made sense, with a wife like that. My coaches . . . He must be a principal or a s

but he didn't want to be away from the hotel that long. He couldn't sit by the phone for

mountains. Other areas, like Alewa Heights, were built on the faces of the ridges; at night their lights reached with sparkling fingers high into the dark. He found formal gardens, temples, and a red light district with hustlers of eve

ops. He got to know the city as well as h

roup. He was sad when he boarded the plane. He sat next to the small oval window and buckled his seat b

and he could see another part of Oregon. He slept most of the way to the mainland. As he rode to his hotel in a light r