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Yoshimi has told Randy that her pregnancy has progressed to a point where
she no longer wants a house guest. She feels it’s time for me to move on to Kyoto;
she’d like her privacy again. Makes perfect sense to me.
After making my way on the old train from Kasama to Tokyo’s Akihabra
station, I have just taken my seat on the bullet train. “Make sure you’re on the
‘Speed of Light’ bullet train,” Randy had warned. “It’s much faster than the
‘Speed of Sound’ bullet train and you’ll really notice a difference between it and
other trains you’ve travelled on.”I am on the faster version. Its interior looks
more like an airplane than a train, all light plastic and aluminium. The seats are
more comfortable than the benches on the old trains and there is the faint hiss of air
conditioning, just like an airplane. “I wonder what this will be like,” I muse.
“The bullet train is really fast and you don’t need to worry about
earthquakes,” Randy encouraged. “The bullet train has sensors all along its track
which automatically stop the train should an earthquake occur.”
Well, that was reassuring:I remember sitting in Randy and Yoshimi’s
apartment one evening having tea. I heard a big truck coming down the road
outside. It got louder and louder. A really BIG truck I thought. Then I thought it
must be a train, but there were no train tracks near the apartment. Louder and
louder it roared. Then the apartment started to shake. First just a vibration; then
the whole place started jumping. Things began falling off the counter in the
kitchen , crashing onto the floor. I looked at my host and hostess who sat on the
floor smiling placid smug smiles. I leapt to my feet. Should I run out the door and
down the stairs? Should I jump off the balcony and run to the rice field where
Barry and Sandra’s scarecrow stood? Then suddenly it was over. There was a
strange silence and everything was still. As I sheepishly sat down, Randy and
Yoshimi rolled over with laughter. I suppose my panic WAS hilarious. Suddenly
their smiles were wiped off their faces as the apartment was gripped in a truly
violent shaking. This time, all three of us leaped to our feet and they too were
looking for a way out. Then it stopped. We all sat down. This time no one was
laughing. There was a bead of sweat on Randy’s brow. The next day Randy told
me the radio reported the ’quake was centred in Mito where considerable damage
had occurred. “Mito is a large industrial city not far away on the coast. There
wasn’t any damage here in Kasama,” he went on. “Japan has six or seven thousand
earthquakes a year, so everyone is used to them.”Okay, sure they are, I thought.
by Morley Evans