“Oh.”

“Listen, it was nice talking to you, but I’d better go before someone objects.”

“Sure. Hope you’ll be all right.”

He walks away. I hope he will be all right. I hope they will all be all right,
butknow some won’t.

We’re quite far north and though it’s late, the sun has just begun to set. It
will set, but daybreak will come in only a few hours.

After a while, I decide to check out the bar. It has a hard unpleasant
atmosphere and I decide to return to the plane without having a drink. I make my
way back to my seat and soon a stewardess brings a blanket, the air conditioning
creates chilliness. I tilt the seat as far back as it will go, put my feet on the footrest,
and uncomfortably drift off. Well, at least it’s better than a bus...

At daybreak, the plane is finally ready to go. Groggy passengers yawn and
stretch. They seem more cheerful and optimistic than yesterday. We’re airborne
before breakfast is served. Coffee and food makes everyone feel better. Have a
smoke and relax. There’s nothing to look at and nothing to do. I brought a book to
read by D.T. Suzuki. His books on Zen I’ve been reading over the years, but I find
reading in moving vehicles difficult at best and I can’t get interested today.

Hours later, we hear the captain’s voice:

“We are in a holding pattern over Tokyo. Visibility is zero all the way to the
ground. If conditions do not improve in one hour, we’ll be forced to make an
alternative landing in Kobe or Osaka.”

“Oh, great!”

“Will this never end?”

Then everyone is silent, silent and resigned.

Time passes. There is no way to tell where we are. Engines hum; air
conditioners hiss. All is calm. Then:

“Conditions have improved over Tokyo sufficiently to permit a safe landing.
We are beginning our descent.”

page:

8

Japanby Morley Evans

November 21, 2000