The Wishing Trees (5 page)

“No way.”

“Yes, way,” Ian replied, moving to the middle of the platform.

Mattie looked into the distant tunnel, unsure what to expect. “Aren’t trains late here? They’re always late at home.”

“If I remember right, which is less likely than catching a two-headed cockatoo, this station serves three or four million people a day. It’s the busiest in the world. And you don’t get three million people somewhere by being late.”

She pointed to a light that appeared in the tunnel. “Is that it?”

“I reckon.”

A blast of warm wind preceded the train, which pulled quietly alongside the platform. Dozens of doors simultaneously opened in front of orderly rows of people.

“You’d best do some hopping here, Roo,” Ian said, setting her on the ground. They followed the people ahead of them and crammed into a gleaming train car. An automated voice came on, making an announcement as the doors closed. The train moved forward, rushing past the platform, darting into a tunnel. “You picked an express train,” Ian said. “A real cheetah. Grab hold of that pole beside you.”

Mattie watched as the train flew past another group of platforms and into a new tunnel. The scenery alternated between tunnels and other underground stations for a few minutes before the train abruptly emerged into the light, rising on top of an elevated rail system. Dozens of skyscrapers passed by the windows as if they were fence posts along a highway, blurring as they came and went. Mattie saw thousands of people walking on pedestrian bridges that seemed to float above the streets. Electronic billboards the size of mansions blinked and changed colors. Another train flew past in the opposite direction, seemingly inches from their windows. Just as Mattie was growing used to the view of the city, the train descended underground, passing a few more stations before finally coming to a smooth stop.

“Should we hop off here and explore?” Ian asked.

“Let’s hop.”

The automated voice announced the station name as the doors all opened. The majority of the passengers got off, and Mattie and Ian joined the exodus. This underground station, while not as large as the one where they had boarded, was still immense and featured a variety of shops and restaurants. Ian held Mattie’s hand and walked toward an exit gate, inserting their train passes into a machine, which prompted a pair of small plastic doors to open. Ian led Mattie forward, retrieved their passes, and followed a stairway up, emerging onto the sidewalk near a busy street. Cars, buses, motorcycles, and a surface train rumbled past. People were everywhere.

Mattie and Ian started moving down the sidewalk, passing a life-sized bronze statue of a samurai. A group of schoolchildren approached, many of them holding hands. The children appeared to be Mattie’s age, and were led by a middle-aged woman.

“Fancy meeting some new friends?” Ian asked, seeing an opportunity to make Mattie smile, believing that she’d enjoy an exchange with some local children.

“What?”

He grinned and approached the group. “G’day, lads and lasses,” he said, waving.

At first the children stepped back, unsure what to think of this tall stranger. The woman leading the group nodded and bowed slightly. “May I help you?” she asked.

“Ah, your English is lovely,” Ian replied. “You make me sound like it’s my second language, or maybe even my third. Are you their teacher?”

The woman bowed again as students began to giggle behind her. “Yes, I am their English teacher. Are you lost?”

Ian looked at Mattie, reminded of having such conversations years ago. “Well, not exactly. But we’re wondering what we might do around here. Is Tokyo Disneyland nearby? Or an aquarium? Or maybe we can watch a good sumo match?”

The teacher, dressed in a uniform similar to her students’, suppressed a laugh. “Tokyo Disneyland? Here? I am so sorry, but you are on the wrong end of the city.”

“I must have had my map upside down.”

“Unfortunately, there are not activities for tourists in this area,” she said. “I am sorry that I cannot help you.”

Ian shrugged, winking at Mattie, wanting to surprise her, to make her focus on something new. “I used to teach English in Kyoto,” he said to the teacher. “For two wonderful years. How about my daughter and I go back to your school with you and help teach your class? We’ll all have heaps of fun, I promise.”

Mattie shook her head. “Daddy, don’t be silly.”

The woman glanced at her students and then back at Ian. “You would like to help me? Teach English?”

“I enjoy teaching,” he replied, smiling at a girl who was staring at him. “In Kyoto I taught elementary school students, and students at the uni. They were all lovely. And I reckon that my daughter, Mattie, would fancy helping out. She led us here, after all.”

“And you would really like to teach my students?”

“Sure thing.”

The teacher looked again at her students, who nodded and giggled. “I am Akiko,” she said. “And if you would like, you may come to our school with us. Please follow me.”

As several of the children clapped and others held hands in front of their grinning faces, Akiko proceeded along the street, at the edge of the sidewalk. Businesspeople were everywhere, talking on cell phones, rushing to catch trains while carrying briefcases and umbrellas. At the next corner, teenage girls dressed in pink tights handed out plastic-wrapped packets of tissues that carried advertising messages.

While Akiko waited for a light to turn green, Ian pointed at thick white stripes that had been painted across the street. Turning to the schoolchildren, he said, “In Australia we call that a zebra crossing. Though ours aren’t as big as this one.”

The children looked at the crosswalk, repeated his words, and began to laugh. Mattie laughed with them. For the first time since the encounter had begun, she didn’t feel embarrassed about her father, which she often did. Before her mother had died, he used to joke constantly. Her earliest memories, in fact, were of giggling on his lap. And while she liked to giggle, sometimes he said too much.

“Of course, we don’t have zebras in Australia,” he continued. “But if you ever want to see a kangaroo, Mattie and I will take you out into the bush. And we’ll watch them hop around like their backsides are on fire.”

When the light turned green, a pulsating beep punctuated the air, letting anyone blind know that it was time to cross. Akiko led the group forward, entering a tall building and proceeding down a hallway that might have been found in a Western bank. Mattie realized that she was in a school, since she saw students in classrooms. But this school didn’t look like any other she’d experienced. No drawings or banners hung from the walls, nor did rows of lockers span the sides of the corridor.

Akiko led her students, followed by Ian and Mattie, into a classroom. As the students sat down at two-person desks, chatting excitedly, Mattie moved partly behind her father, who stood near a blackboard.

“Your mum used to teach children like these,” Ian whispered into her ear, sensing her disquiet. “And I reckon she’s watching now. Let’s give her a laugh.”

Mattie instinctively looked up, her gaze dropping back to the students as Akiko began to speak in Japanese. Mattie realized that the teacher was older than she’d first thought. Some of Akiko’s hair had started to gray, and deep laugh lines surrounded her mouth. As she spoke, the students nodded attentively, sitting motionless, something Mattie’s classmates wouldn’t be able to easily duplicate.

Akiko turned to their visitors. “Well, Mr. . . .”

“McCray. I’m Ian McCray. But please call me Ian. And my daughter here is Mattie.”

“We are lucky, students,” Akiko said. “First we enjoyed our field trip to
The Japan Times
, and now Ian-san and Mattie will help us for the remainder of our class. About fifteen minutes. Now please open your English conversation books to page thirty-four.”

Ian leaned closer to Akiko. “Could we play a game instead?” he whispered.

“A game?”

“Something to make them laugh.”

She smiled, brushing hair from her face. “Certainly, Ian-san. That would be fine.”

Ian took Mattie’s hand and looked at the students. “Your lovely teacher, Akiko-san, is going to let us all play a game,” he said, exaggerating his Australian accent, believing that the children found his dialect funny. “Have any of you ankle biters ever heard of Chinese Whispers?”

The students smiled and shook their heads.

“Codswallop,” he said, shaking his head, feigning disbelief.

Akiko laughed, instinctively putting her hand in front of her face. “What does . . . codswallop mean, Ian-san?”

“It means that I can’t believe you’ve never played the telephone game,” he replied, remembering how Kate and he used to play the game with their students. “It’s quite simple,” he said, looking again at the children. “I’m going to whisper a sentence to Mattie. She’ll whisper it to Akiko-san, and then Akiko-san will whisper it to one student, who will whisper it to the next, and so on. We’ll go through everyone. Then the last student will stand up and repeat the sentence. And we’ll see if it’s London to a brick. I mean . . . we’ll see if it’s just right.”

The students nodded and smiled, understanding the game. Ian closed his eyes for a few seconds, formulating a sentence. He then leaned down to Mattie, cupped his hands around her ear and whispered, “I love you, Roo. And I always will. Now here’s the sentence. Twenty-six giggling zebras crossed a street in Tokyo today.”

Grinning, Mattie stood on her tiptoes as Akiko bent down, and quietly repeated the line. Akiko smiled at her, then walked to a student who sat in the first row. The teacher leaned over and whispered. The student laughed, repeated the line to herself, and twisted toward a boy beside her. This process was duplicated until all the students had participated. The last student to receive the sentence smiled and stood up.

Ian shrugged. “So? What was the sentence?”

The girl beamed, glanced at her teacher, and then at Mattie. “Twenty-six wriggling zebras ate a treat in Tokyo today,” she said, doing her best to properly pronounce each word.

Ian laughed and told the students the original words, while Akiko wrote both sentences on the blackboard. The students joked and spoke in Japanese, shaking their heads. “Fancy another round?” Ian asked.

“Please, Ian-san,” Akiko replied, setting the chalk down.

“Mattie, why don’t you start it out this time?”

Nodding, Mattie tried to think of something that the students would find amusing. When she did, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered to her father, “I love you too, Daddy. Now here’s my sentence. My father, Ian-san, once kissed a walrus.”

Ian pulled back from her, grinning. “Good onya, Roo,” he said, and then turned to Akiko and repeated the sentence.

Akiko looked at Mattie, smiled, and walked to her students. After a few minutes the message had traveled from one end of the classroom to the other. A different student was the final recipient, and he stood up and bowed slightly, trying to remember the right words. “My mother, Ian-san, once missed his walrus.”

Smiling and shaking her head, Mattie said her original line, and Akiko wrote both sentences on the blackboard. The students laughed, a few clapping at her cleverness. Akiko started to speak when a bell sounded, prompting the students to groan. “We will play this game again,” she said, dusting her hands of chalk. “Please, each of you, write a sentence tonight in English, and we will remove several from a box tomorrow. Now kindly thank Ian-san and Mattie for joining us today.”

The students offered their thanks, both in Japanese and English. They then organized their books and filed out of the classroom. Akiko turned to Ian and Mattie. “Thank you both so much,” she said, bowing.

“You’re welcome,” Ian replied, pleased that Mattie had experienced a game that her mother had enjoyed. “It was our pleasure. A real treat.”

“Are you in Tokyo long?”

“No. Just a tick really. Tomorrow we buzz off for Kyoto.”

Akiko glanced at the blackboard, which still displayed the sentences. She smiled. “Would you do me the honor of eating dinner at my house tonight? It is not far from here, and I should repay you for your kindness. You are visitors to my country, and I would like to be your host.”

Ian looked at Mattie, who nodded. “That would be lovely,” he replied. “Just lovely.”

Akiko walked to her desk and wrote on a piece of paper. She handed the paper to Ian, bowing toward him. “You can take a taxi, and show the driver this note. Perhaps you could arrive about seven o’clock?”

“We’ll be there. We look forward to it.”

The trio said good-bye. Mattie and Ian left the classroom and the school. They walked outside, the sounds of the city once again rising up to drown out any noise from nature. Mattie took Ian’s hand, smiling up at him. “You played that game with Mommy, didn’t you? With your students?”

He nodded. “We played heaps of games like that. We were always getting in trouble for it, actually. The dimwits who ran our company didn’t want us to stray from our textbooks. But stray we did.”

“Mommy got into trouble?”

“Getting into trouble wasn’t exactly your mum’s bowl of rice, but sometimes she did it, just to make a point.”

Mattie played with one of her braids, twirling it around her forefinger. “I liked Akiko, and her students.”

“So did I, luv. You know, teaching here was a bloody good time. It made me want to see the world. And it did the same thing for your mum.”

“And what did you see?”

Ian bent toward her as a pair of businessmen walked past, talking on their cell phones. “Everything looks different, Roo. Japan is full of giant cities and bullet trains. Cows walk the streets of Kathmandu. India is . . . Well, it’s India.” He slowed his pace, remembering how Kate would chastise him for walking too fast. “But under all that difference, luv, if you really look, people are basically the same. That’s what your mum and I learned on our travels. That’s what I hope you’ll learn. I reckon it’s one of the reasons she sent us on this walkabout. I’m sure she wanted to show you herself. But she couldn’t. So she sent us.”

Nodding, Mattie looked down the street. “What are we going to do now?”