"Leaves" Chapter 3

Paul moved away from the village to a town further west and up in the mountains. The sad river and the leaves, he left behind.

In the mountain village, it seemed everyone knew each other. There was a middle-aged lady, Mrs. Kawai, who had been a teacher years before and when she found out Paul had moved there, a real English speaking foreigner, she quickly set to work organizing an English conversation circle. They were to meet on Wednesday evening at her home, only as she related it to Paul, it was to be a party welcoming him to the village.
Continued...
On that evening, they sat on the straw mat in her house, Paul and four middle-aged women, the women laughing and plying him with Concord grape wine and asking him if he could use chopsticks, whether he liked the country, did he cook for himself every night and many other questions which he answered to the best of his ability in between drinks of the cloying, but pleasant wine. Then Mrs. Kawai announced it was time to eat and the women brought in little charcoal grills, the kind made for grilling strips of beef and vegetables at the table. The kind that are sometimes also used in this country by people who meet on the internet and plan a group get-together/suicide on isolated mountain roads by rolling up the windows and burning a little charcoal inside the car to bring on the slow asphyxiation.

But this evening, the grills weren't being used for suicide. This was English conversation! Just as Mrs. Kawai lit the charcoal, the last member arrived, and Paul was surprised that it wasn't another middle-aged woman, but a rather less middle-aged girl with a pleasant smile and a pleasant face and what seemed to be a pleasant shape as well. She showed Mrs. Kawai the cake she had baked for the occasion as the ladies cooed and then she took a place next to Paul on the mat, sitting in that peculiar way women sat in this country, with their legs bent at the knees to either side of their thighs and rump, all flush with the floor. It was cute, but it looked painful to Paul.

"My name is Shizuka," she said and smiled brightly.

"I'm Paul", he said.

"Yes, I know."

Word got around in the village, it seemed.

"How do you like Shimoyama?" she asked as she stared into his eyes.

"I quite like it here."

She smiled again, her eyes still fixed on his. Never believe what they say about this land, about people's eyes never meeting.

"You have blue eyes," Shizuka said.

"I thought they were green."

"Green?" she said,　surprised. "I think blue."

"Hmm..." Paul said. "Maybe you're right. What the hell do I know?" He laughed. A little too loudly, from the wine, and she laughed with him.

The other ladies were still busy ferrying plates from the kitchen into the room and placing them around the grills set on the low table.

"So what do you do for a living?" Paul asked.

"Sorry?"

"Umm... Do you work?"

"Yes! I'm a nurse," she said.

"A nurse?" he said. Then "Good answer," under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"Umm... So can I call you when I get sick?" he asked.

She laughed, with her face lighting up. "Yes! But only if you are pregnant."

Paul's eyes widened.

"I'm a..." she said, then turned to Mrs. Kawai and spoke for a moment.

"She's a nurse at the obstetric clinic," Mrs. Kawai said.

"Oh!" Paul laughed and all the ladies looked over at him.

"Do you help during childbirth?" he asked her.

"Usually, I deliver the babies," she said.

"Really?"

"The doctor only comes if there's... if there's some difficulty."

"That's too cool!" He was impressed that this girl sitting next to him, this pretty girl, delivered babies.

But she hadn't understood completely. "Sorry?" she asked.

"That's really..." he started. "That's great!" he said finally.

Shizuka smiled and was still staring into his eyes.