New Orleans
The streetcar slowly rolled into the last stop on the line and the two brothers jauntily hopped off the train and surveyed the scene around them. They could see the lake just two blocks away, shining a deep and vibrant blue in the afternoon sun. There weren’t many people out and about and Jacques said ‘I wonder if they come out at night’ half-wondering to himself and forgetting that Eddie was standing next to him. Eddie beamed a child-like grin and slowly nodded ‘Mmm hmm, mmm hmm, mmm hmm… I like it!’ Jacques was the older of the two and a little more circumspect in nature. ‘Eddie, what are we going to do? Just set up on the street corner and play for no one?’ Eddie laughed, ‘Well, first - it’s good practice. And we need it. And second - if we play, they will come.’ ‘Who will?’ ‘Them’ he gestured broadly ‘Everyone. You’ll see.’
Jacques acquiesced and tried to get on board with Eddie’s infectious energy. They picked up their bags and knocked on the door of the little yellow house they’d been told to seek out. ‘Maude’s Bed and Breakfast’ - Eddie’s co-worker’s cousin’s friend in Chicago sent word ahead that two (aspiring) musicians were going to show up on her doorstep looking to stay for at least a month, while they got their sea-legs in the Big Easy.
They door swung open gently and a plump, middle-aged white lady in a flowered apron and orthopedic shoes gazed at them steadily. ‘You must be Jacques and Edward - come on in.’ ‘I go by Eddie!’ piped up the younger of the two men. ‘You can go by Hercules for all I care’ mumbled Maude with a sideways laugh ‘won’t be here long enough for it to matter.’ Eddie’s bravado deflated just a little; then he shook himself off and picked up his bag and trumpet. ‘Where to?’ ‘Your room is to the left at the top of the stairs. Lucky number 7 on the door. Breakfast is at 8am. I serve a dinner each night at 6pm and you’re welcome to eat here if you want. Today’s laundry day so it’s red beans and rice.’ ‘Sounds delicious!’ declared Eddie. ‘Thank you, ma’am, you’ll see, we’ll turn out to be your favorite boarders.’ Maude eyed him warily but couldn’t help a tiny smile. ‘All right then - get upstairs with you.’ Jacques picked up his suitcase and double-bass and started climbing the stairs, slow and measured.
At about 5pm, Eddie and Jacques came downstairs with their instruments and Eddie sniffed the air ‘Smells good!’ he enthused and reached over to pull the lid off the pot of beans on the boil. ‘Oh no, you don’t.’ Maude came flying in from the laundry room adjacent, big wooden spoon in hand, and smacked Eddie good, right on the paw. ‘Ouch! Careful, I need these hands to play sweet, sweet music.’ he grinned. Maude stirred the pot and said ‘why don’t you two get outside and play some of that music until it’s dinner time. I’ll call you when it’s ready.’
Jacques and Eddie ambled out the front door and looked around. Jacques pointed at the vacant lot diagonally next door and said ‘How about there, in that patch of lantana? With the lake behind us, it’s almost like a stage…’ Eddie was already headed across the grass and opening up his case ‘We should start with something local - ‘The Saints?’ Jacques nodded and counted off the swing ‘uh 1, uh 2, uh 1, 2, 3, 4’.
For the next hour, Eddie and Jacques lost themselves in the tunes, playing everything from New Orleans Jazz to Delta Blues to Zydeco with a couple of original improvs tossed in for good measure. A small crowd had started to gather and seemed to enjoy their style which buoyed their energy to no end. Just as they finished playing a tune by Toussaint, they heard the dinner bell and reluctantly started packing up their stuff to head in. Eddie shouted ‘We’ll be back out here tomorrow afternoon. Tell your friends. Hell, tell your enemies too!’ The crowd laughed and started to dissipate into the setting sun. Jacques and Eddie made their way back to Maude’s little yellow house, counting the money that had been tossed into Eddie’s case as they walked. ’23 bucks, not bad’ mused Jacques.
Maude greeted them at the front door with a soft, supportive smile and said ‘Looks like you boys are finding your way just fine. Now put your gear upstairs and get to the table. It’s time to eat.’ ‘Yes ma’am!’ they said in unison, scrambling up the stairs in their hurry not to miss the delicious welcome dinner that was waiting. Good people, good music, good food and a place to lay your head - truly, what more could you ask from New Orleans?
Osaka
Yuki and her mother exited the small café onto a bustling side street in Osaka. Born in a small village, Yuki had never quite gotten comfortable with the size and pace of the city so she was grateful to seek out havens like the Milk Café and knew her mother felt the same. It had been a lovely morning of catching up on family news and town gossip, lots of smiles and laughter and knowing nods. The café owner had become friendly with Yuki-san and was happy for them to sit for hours, lingering over their tea and snacks.
As they left the café, it looked like rain might be on the way. “Let’s go to a museum this afternoon’ Yuki suggested ‘feels like a good day for it.’ ‘Yes’ her mother agreed ‘that sounds like a good idea.; ‘And then we can return to my apartment and I’ll make us a simple dinner with the special miso I got as a gift from Jae.’ ‘Sounds wonderful’ Yuki’s mom said ‘Tell me more about this ‘Jae’’. ‘Oh, Mom, please don’t start - we’re friends and colleauges, that’s it. He’s a great guy but I don’t think there’s a spark there.’ ‘Ok, ok’ Yuki’s mom demurred ‘we shall see. Will I get to meet him?’ ‘Well, sure’ Yuki nodded ‘we can visit him after the museum. I’ll give him a call to make sure he’ll be around.’
Mother and daughter linked arms and walked easily, winding their way through the back streets of the market quarter. A short while later they found themselves in front of a shop that specialized in the art of bonsai and Yuki’s mother stared into the shop window entranced. ‘Did you know that I studied bonsai arrangement with a master when I was a young woman?’ ‘No!’ Yuki exclaimed ‘When? And where?’ ‘When I was at university in Kyoto - there was a studio across from my apartment and I would walk by each morning admiring the man’s diligent work through the window but I never said anything. And one day, with a twinkle in his eye, he beckoned me into the space and just started talking and demonstrating the techniques. After about an hour, he put the tools in my hand and said ‘Now, you try.’ To say I was in shock - well. But I loved it almost immediately; it felt like a form of meditation to me - the slow, careful, thoughtful process. I lost hours at a time in that studio but gained something very precious.’ Yuki’s mother awoke from her reverie to find her daught’s eyes glistening with tears. ‘Why did you stop it if you loved it so much, Mom?’ Yuki’s mother sighed ‘Well, life has a way of moving you along. Anyway, let’s go to that modern art museum you mentioned.’
Yuki and her mother gazed at the modern art museum’s exterior admiring the architecture and the glossy cherry red trim and accents. Yuki wondered aloud if the art inside would turn out to be as beautiful as the building itself. Much like the Louvre and the Guggenheim, the answer turned out to be ‘not really.’ They emerged an hour later and agreed that it was a pleasant enough diversion and there were a couple of pieces they both liked in particular but the building was the best part. They stood outside and gazed at it for a bit longer and then Yuki nudged her mother’s shoulder ‘Are you ready to meet the infamous Jae? I texted him, he said he’s home and he’d love for us to come visit.’ Yuki’s mother smiled ‘Yes, let’s go - I’m really looking forward to meeting him.’
About twenty minutes later, after having taken a bullet train to the more rural outskirts of the city, they arrived at Jae’s hillside home which was lovely and surrounded by lush greenery. As they walked up the front steps made of stone, they could hear someone gently fingering a folk tune on guitar and suddently Jae’s baritone voice snuck around the corner. ‘Come to the back garden, I’ve made tea for us.’ As the two women made their way around the house and into the back garden, Yuki’s mother stopped in her tracks and her eyes welled with tears. ‘What is it, Mom? What’s wrong?!’ Yuki asked with concern. ‘No, it’s just - that tune.’
As they saw Jae seated on the back patio with a tea setting, Yuki’s mother gasped. The bonsai arrangement on the patio was so unique that she knew it had to have been created by her old mentor from all those years ago. She turned to Jae who was smiling with curiosity and felt like she had stepped back in time. The spitting image - Jae had to be the son of her old teacher, there was no question.
Yuki gently shook her mother’s shoulder ‘Mom, are you OK? What’s gotten into you?’ Yuki’s mom broke her trance-like stare at Jae and blushed slightly. ‘I’m so sorry. You really remind me of an old friend. And your bonsai is just the kind he would’ve created. What was your father’s name, if you don’t mind my asking?’ ‘Not at all -’ smiled Jae ‘his name was Atsushi Han. Is that who you were thinking of?’ Yuki’s mother’s face glowed in delight ‘Yes. I studied bonsai with him many years ago. I have so many questions for you.’ Jae gestured to the table ‘Please join me. Let’s have some tea and it sounds like we have a lot to talk about.’ Yuki and her mother sat down and pulled their chairs closer to the patio table as Jae poured the green tea into warmed cups and offered them a bowl of savory snacks. Yuki looked between her mother and Jae and thought happily to herself ‘Yes, this feels right.’