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Finding Issei and Hana Kobayashi had taken hours. In and out of shops, asking for anyone who might speak English or know how to find the address written in her tiny red book. And then, finally, a young man her own age hoping to practice his rudimentary English had agreed to take her there. Of course Molly knew better than to venture off with strange men, but she was exhausted and overwhelmed by her new environment, and she had with her the knowledge that Japan was one of the safest countries in the world with the lowest crime rates.
"This is the street," the young man said carefully, stopping his car and pulling to the curb. "This." He pointed. "There," he tried again.
Molly sat in the passenger seat of his small car and looked at a street full of multi-story houses that looked remarkably like houses she might have found in California or Hawaii; for some reason she'd expected low houses with rice paper windows and sliding doors. She'd envisioned narrow porches with shoes left in neat rows outside, and inside, tables without chairs, and pillows to sit on as she sipped tea from an ancient tea set.
But instead, she was looking at a house that reminded her of--of all things--theBrady Bunchhouse from television.
"This one?" she asked the man, pointing at the house and looking back at the address written in her book.
"Yes," he nodded firmly, smiling at her with expectation and pride that he'd completed the task of helping a foreigner find her destination. "This one."
Molly inhaled and exhaled, feeling herself slump in the passenger seat. Maybe this had been a terrible idea to begin with. After all, she knew nothing about the Kobayashis. Would it have been too much to ask this kind stranger to turn around and deliver her back to the port? She could sleep there for a night or two and be off again, sails pointed towards her next destination.
Molly looked up at the stairs leading to the front door once more and steeled herself. "Okay," she said, turning to the man with a smile of gratitude. "Thank you so much. It was so kind of you to drive me here. I really appreciate it."
From his spot behind the steering wheel, the man was bowing his head repeatedly, a wide grin still on his face. "Welcome," he said. "Most welcome."
Molly knocked on the front door, unsure about what she should expect when it opened. To her surprise, there was a small, gray-haired man standing there. He frowned at her and his absolute puzzlement was obvious as he stuck his head out and looked up and down the street.
"Hello, sir," Molly said, bowing slightly. "My name is Molly Kimble-Kobayashi. I'm sorry, but do you by any chance speak English?" She knew it was too much, and that she should have started with something simple, like, "Do you speak English?" But she waited hopefully, hands clasped earnestly in front of her chest.
Finally, after some consideration, the man nodded. "Yes," he said simply but with a heavy accent. "English is fine."
Molly sighed, feeling the grip of tension release inside of her chest just a little bit. "My name is Molly," she said, bowing again, "and I was married to your grandson, Rodney." She was taking a gamble here, assuming that this elderly man before her was Issei Kobayashi, but from the wave of emotion that passed over his face, she surmised that he was.
"Rodney?" the old man croaked. "Rodney?"
"Yes," Molly said, nodding. "I was married to Rodney. I am his wife."
Tears sprang to the old man's eyes and he stepped onto the porch, looking up at Molly, who was easily five or six inches taller than he. "Molly? Molly?" His eyes searched hers. "Molly please come in."
With a deep bow, Mr. Kobayashi stood aside and waved for Molly to enter the house, and so she did, looking around at the decor as the old man closed the door behind them and walked across the wooden floors, calling out for his wife. "Hana? Hana?"
From somewhere in the house a woman of roughly the same age and stature as Mr. Kobayashi emerged, wiping her hands on the apron that was tied around her waist. She looked at Molly with confusion and then back at her husband.
Issei rapidly explained in Japanese who their visitor was, and as soon as she heard the name "Rodney," Hana's own eyes filled with tears.
"Rodney?" she repeated, one small, wrinkled hand covering her mouth. "You are the wife of our Rodney?"
Molly confirmed again that she was, and Hana bowed deeply to her, openly crying now.
"Please come in," Issei said, reaching to take Molly's rucksack from her to lighten her load. "Please have tea."
As they knelt together around a low, wooden table, which was precisely what Molly had envisioned, Hana poured hot liquid into small cups without handles, gently whisking green powder into the hot water with a bamboo stirring tool. It amazed Molly that two people their age would be crouching on a thin cushion on the floor, but as she observed their movements she noticed a youthfulness, an ease to the range of motion, that seemed different than her own grandparents.
Outside the window of the dining room was a backyard garden that ran the length of the house. A gently burbling waterfall spilled into a pond, and all around it were manicured plants and bushes. There was a calm peacefulness to this setting that made Molly want to get up from the table and walk directly outside to sit and meditate, though that was something she'd never done.
In short order, she found out that Rodney's paternal grandparents had had a falling out with their son, which resulted in a lack of communication and in their son's refusal to see and speak with them, but that they'd exchanged letters with their grandson beginning from the time he was in high school. Issei Kobayashi was old enough to have participated in WWII but hadn't, and Hana had been the most beautiful girl in his small village in the northern part of the country. They'd married and had Rodney's father, moving first to Tokyo, and then to San Francisco when Issei had gotten a job with a company that was based there, hence his perfect English.
"But you never met Rodney?" Molly asked as she sipped her tea, holding the cup delicately with both hands.
Hana's eyes looked sad. "No," she said, rising easily from her spot on the floor.
She left the room and Molly worried that she'd gone somewhere to cry alone, but Hana returned dry-eyed, holding an envelope, which she set on the table in front of Molly. Molly looked at her inquisitively and Hana nodded as if she should look inside.
So she did. In the envelope were photos of Molly herself, along with several of her and Rodney together. The first one was of them standing together next to his red Chevy truck, Rodney's arm slung casually around Molly's shoulders, her feet crossed at the ankles as they leaned against the hood of the truck in their matching denim jeans and jackets. The next was of Molly on the beach in Hawaii, her hair pulled into a long braid as she sat on the sand, skin bronzed and smile wide and hopeful. Another was of Molly and Rodney together on their wedding day, sharing a secret smile as they stood on the sand together, Molly holding a bouquet of flowers with both hands.
"Very beautiful," Issei said, bowing his head slightly.
