Chapter 4

Sunday, June 23^rd

I woke up this morning with a start - it was pouring rain outside and a thunderclap woke me up. Mary was fast asleep next to me, and I got out of bed slowly so I wouldn't wake her up. I looked at the clock - 6:24 a.m. - much earlier than I usually wake on Sunday. I threw on my Gi bottoms and went downstairs.

I went down to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. Leaning against the counter, I sipped it, contemplating everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. My mind was chaos, still is as I sit here typing, but I needed to calm the maelstrom and focus. Finishing, I sat the glass in the sink, and crossed out to the dojo I had built on the grounds.

I arrived dripping wet, and left the double doors open so I could listen to the rain. I knelt in the center of the tatami mat, head bowed, meditating. Everything started to focus. I could hear every drop as it struck the leaves - the sound curiously like a steak grilling on a hot summer day. I heard the birds, felt the cool wind wrap around me; I was one with nature. I felt the Ki flowing in everything, and felt mine as well. Mine was waning, and I knew that my time on the planet was coming to the end, that I would return to the flow of Ki that runs through this world and sustains it - the Ki that permeates everything.

Today would be a long day indeed, and there was so very much to do before it was done.

With a flicker of irritation, I silenced that thought, crystallizing deep inside a list of what I needed to accomplish as soon as the world finished waking up around me. It would be a while in doing so, because it was Sunday, so I indulged myself in one of my favorite activities. I hefted my Shinobi-gatana from the wall, unsheathing it. Bowing respectfully before the mat, I began to work the forms, the cold steel blade flashing in the muted light.

I lost myself in the dance of blade, flesh, air, oneness. I don't think I can ever put this feeling into words - it's where you submerge everything that you are, and focus solely on what you're doing. You become part of the larger world around you, and feel it without as well as within.

I worked the forms, the kata, for hours, losing track of time. Then I felt her, standing there, watching me. Mary knew the forms as well as I, could have danced the blade with me, the dance of death, but she always preferred to watch me do it. She had the speed; I had the power and focus. Yin and Yang.

For just a second anger flashed through me. I needed this solitude, the chance to be alone, and she had somehow profaned it by just being there. Then I realized that my time with her is limited, and as much as I needed some time alone from her, she needed some time alone with me. Shrugging, I sheathed my sword, bowing and replacing it to its place of honor. Kissing my beautiful wife, I led her into the house, where we showered together.

The next task for the day was one that I hadn't ever considered before, and I found it a truly odd experience. Sitting in the passenger seat of Mary's car, I stared at the giant windmill that had become so familiar to me. I can honestly say, I had never considered entering Ahlgrim's funeral home as a customer - but I had been there many times before. They buried my dear grandfather and grandmother.

Walking in the door, with Mary gripping my arm so tight my hand was going numb, I had one of those "just right" feelings, like the universe had led me here, to this place. The décor was the same off beige and wood paneling that I had remembered from the funerals I attended there before. Smelling of death and fresh flowers, the overall ambiance was enough to settle the nerves of anyone, save Mary and myself.

We stood there, in the doorway, for just a minute or so, and suddenly some 20-ish kid came bounding out of a hallway. He hurriedly introduced himself as Robert, and was upset that we had just shown up on his doorstep - "without a cold body," as he put it. His overall manner was brusque and callous, and more than once Mary begged me to let us leave and find a better funeral home, one that would be more respectful. Personally, I wanted to strangle the young punk, but I found myself liking him deep down inside - he reminded me of myself at that age.

"Listen," Robert said, "There is a limit on the arrangements we can make here, unless you already have a corpse. My hands are tied." And he smirked... that was the final straw.

I did something impulsive, but totally justified. I reached across his desk and grabbed the front of his shirt, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "We HAVE listened to you. We've listened to you be the rudest little sonofabitch that I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. Now, you're going to help me make the funeral arrangements I need to make, or they'll be making arrangements for you. Capiche?"