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ng flame to life。 He sucked three or four times； deeply； almost with a sigh of contentment； before he flipped the top of the lighter closed… 'I want to know how you feel before I answer that。 Do you care that Hanshichiro is dead？ Or that you've seen a man take his own life？'
'I don't know。 I really don't。' Nicholas put his hand along the black iron railing bordering the path； feeling the cool metal against his skin。 'I don't know whether it has taken effect yet。 It's like a movie； not real life。 I didn't know him or his work。 I guess I'm sad but I don't know why。 He did what he wanted to do。'
The Colonel drew on his pipe； thinking of what his son had just said。 What had he expected？ Tears？ Hysterics？ He dreaded returning home and having to tell Cheong。 She loved the old man's poetry。 It was terribly unfair for him to think Hanshichiro's death could touch Nicholas in the same deep way it did him。 Their experiences were not the same and neither were the generations； anyway； Nicholas did not yet possess the sense of history that the Colonel and Cheong did。
And； of course； he had quite a different perspective on it。 For a moment he thought of Satsugai。 There wasn't much Nicholas missed。 He would have to watch that from now on。
'Although the American party line was to make the military totally culpable for the war；' the Colonel said； 'it's only fair to say that there was a purge of the zaibatsu directly after the war。 However； there was so much burning of original documents and deliberate falsification of others that a great many upper…echelon executives slipped through。 Others； of course； did not and were tried and convicted of war crimes。' They began to walk towards the eastern gate beyond which their car was parked。
'Now the Americans came in here with the best of intentions。〃 The Colonel drew on his pipe； exhaled the blue smoke。 'I remember the day we finished drafting the new Constitution and dropped it on the Premier and the Foreign Minister like another A…bomb。 They were flabbergasted。 It wasn't a Japanese Constitution； its spirit was totally Western； that's certainly true。 But it was MacArthur's firm intention to keep the country weaned from its feudal past； which he saw as highly dangerous。 Its essence was that all power should be stripped from the Emperor and given into the hands of the Japanese people while maintaining him as the symbol of state。'
'Then what happened？' Nicholas asked。
'In 1947； Washington； through MacArthur； did a plete about…face。 Rights were withdrawn； certain war…crime convictions were overturned and the leaders of the zaibatsu were restored to their pre…war eminence。〃
'It all sounds so contradictory。'
'Only if you look at it from a purely Japanese point of view；' the Colonel said。 'You see； America is deathly afraid of global munism； the Americans will go to any lengths to prevent its spread。 Just look at how they've aided Franco in Spain and Chiang Kai…shek out here。 Fascism； the Americans feel； is their best weapon against munism。'
〃Then the Americans deliberately disregarded their own Constitution for Japan； restoring the reactionary zaibatsu； guiding us in a right…wing direction。〃
The Colonel nodded but said nothing。 He felt now as if he might never make it to the park gate； as if it were the end of a treacherous overland journey that he no longer had sufficient strength to make。 'Let's sit here a minute；' he said softly。 They went carefully over the low railing； sat on a patch of grass filled with sunlight。 Still； it seemed chill to the Colonel and he hunched his shoulders against the wind。 Sheets of thinly layered cloud passed； now and again； across the face of the sun； causing brief shadows to dance like ghosts across the wide lawn。 The cherry blossoms rustled； the cicadas wailed like brass being beaten； a brown and white butterfly darted erratically along the top of the grass； a blithe dancer without a partner。 The day seemed like a haiku to the Colonel； perfect and sad； bringing tears to the eyes。 Why were so many haiku sorrowful？ he wondered。
The Colonel had witnessed many deaths in his day： the deaths of men he knew and those he did not。 One develops over time a kind of shell against which these personal disasters must bounce away； either that or one goes mad。 Until death takes on the unreality of a mime show and one no longer contemplates it。
This death in the park； on this sunny spring day； among the children； the inheritors of Japan； was different。 The Colonel felt deflated； like Caesar returning home to Rome from the arms of Cleopatra； from eternal summer to the chill of March。 He thought of the eagle circling Caesar's statue in the square； the augury。 And it seemed to him that this important death； which he had witnessed； was also an augury of sorts。 But what it portended he could not say。
'Are you all right？' Nicholas asked。 He put a hand on his father's arm。
'What？' For a moment； the Colonel's eyes were far away。 'Oh； yes。 Quite all right； Nicholas。 Not to worry。 I was just thinking of how to break the news of Hanshichiro's death to your mother。 She will be most upset。'
He was silent for a time； contemplating the pink…white blossoms all around。 After a time he felt calmer。
'Father； I want to ask you something。'
It might have been a moment that the Colonel had dreaded； but Nicholas's tone of voice was such that his father knew that he had spent much time thinking about the question。 'What is it？'
'Does Satsugai belong to the Genyosha？'
'Why do you ask？'
'It seems a logical question。 Satsugai is the head of one of the zaibatsu； he is virulently reactionary in his philosophy and he was born in Fukuoka。' Nicholas turned to his father。 'Frankly； I'd be surprised if he wasn't a member。 Wasn't it that which allowed him to be restored to power after the 1947 purge？'
'Ah；' the Colonel said judiciously。 'Ah。 Very logical assumption； Nicholas。 You're quite observant。' The Colonel thought for a moment。 To their left several grey plovers broke from the treetops in a flurry and； circling once； headed west into the sun。 Farther away； the dragon box kite was being slowly lowered by invisible hands； the day was almost done。 'The Genyosha；' the Colonel said carefully； 〃was founded by Hiraoka Kotaro。 His most trusted lieutenant was Munisai Shokan。 Satsugai is his son。'
Nicholas waited for a time before saying； 'Is that a yes？'
The Colonel nodded； thinking of something else。 'Do you know why Satsugai named his only son Saigo？'
'No。'
'Remember I told you that； in the beginning； the Genyosha decided to work within the political framework of the country？'
'Yes。'
'Well； they came to that conclusion the hard way。 The Military Conscription Act split the Meiji oligarchy into three factions。 One of these was led by a man named Saigo。 He was the leader of the ultra…conservative samurai。 In 1877 Saigo led thirty thousand of his samurai into the field of battle against a modern conscription army put together by the Meiji government。 Armed with rifles and guns； they easily defeated the samurai。'
'Of course！' Nicholas exclaimed。 'The Satsuma Rebellion。 I never connected the names before。' He broke off a blade of grass。 'That was the last samurai uprising； wasn't it？'
'The last； yes。' The Colonel got up； feeling at last as if he were ready to face the outside world； Cheong's saddened face。
He could not bear it when she was sad。
They crossed the remainder of the park； passed beneath the high gate。 Behind them the sky was clear； of dragons； the sun lost within the thickening haze that reddened the sky like a drop of blood on a blotter。
That night they both dreamed of the death of Hanshichiro； each in his own separate way。
Third Ring
THE WATER BOOK
I
New York City/West Bay Bridge； Summer Present
The grey concrete blocks of Manhattan shimmered under the late July sun。 It was sticky。 Nicholas could feel the heat penetrating the thin soles of his summer loafers； making even walking unfortable。
He stood near the kerb at Seventh Avenue just outside the modernistic marquee of the new Madison Square Garden and Penn Station plex。 He glanced up at it； thinking how quickly it had gone out of style。 Across