away. It didn't matter where I was; I didn't have anybody. Of all the assignments in the delightful country, there was only one that was undesirable; it was the pattern of my life to get what no one else wanted. I was alarmed at the assignment at first because I thought it would be better for me to be placed in teeming Tokyo or Yokohama. So when I arrived in the remote country, I sought out and luckily found a cottage. I even found a houseboy with little difficulty. I wondered if I could have a serene stay. In about two weeks the ransacking then moments after its discovery: Shuji. He was thrilled at finding a job. He was one of the "gang boys," as they named themselves. He knew Yoshimi was up to something and had come to verify the information and get the job if he could. For a "gang boy" he had a good background, a good mind, and a strangely honest approach. He told me he had got into trouble at the post for stealing. He said he was unjustly accused. His widowed mother was a school teacher in the next village. He would be honest so long as he had hope in the future. I gave him that hope, because I was an influential member of the conquering nation's forces. In his run-away imagination I was the messiah come to deliver him from the forgottenness of his existence and of his village. Not waiting for a fresh day to start his employment, he surveyed his task with an intent, all-encompassing gaze. Suddenly, he attacked the tatami with intensity, burnishing it with a fistful of broadcloth. He thought this was better than to say thank you. He was to sleep on a canvas folding cot in a room separated from mine by the papered shoji doors.

The next day with my heart pounding, I told him of some additional duties. It was like introducing the compass to the stone age natives of New Guinea. Nevertheless, he agreed, though he extracted an agreement from me that I was never sure I understood. That may have been the root of our future strain.

Three weeks after our meeting I had to fly south. Without fear I left all my worldly possessions in the hands of this acquaintance of weeks who was only slightly removed from a gang of burglars. There were objects much coveted by the Japanese: cigarettes in cartons, soap and canned foods. There was a typewriter that I couldn't take with me. I came back in a few days and opened my door. He was sitting on the floor talking to several young men who didn't look like delinquents. Shuji flushed at the sight of me. The group felt uncomfortable in my presence and politely left. The cottage looked lovely with several accretions. I was very pleased. He was glad to see me back.

Shuji lost his father when he was three. He always wore tatters. So my cast off clothing I gave to him. He always wanted a man he could ask things from. His heart was always showing. When I came home with a motor scooter he was speechless with ecstasy and anticipation. We were both making progress. My inability to drive a car was a true disability. At last I was motorized. It was a true revolution. I could penetrate the interior of the island and begin my research, while Shuji could gain status. He could drive the scooter about on errands and in the evenings when I was not going out. With the scooter he could meet young persons of a type superior to his usual low associates. They fired him with an ambition to amount to something. He told me of the Korean boy who aspired to be a doctor. He spoke of him often.

Shuji studied English with intensity. He spoke to me in English in distorted sentences and was determined to master it. He was equally determined to learn to type. With a wall chart as a guide he mastered the keyboard in hours and was typing page after page from Genesis through Deuteronomy. We spent long

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