Gasa-Gasa Girl Read Online Free PDF

slightly overstuffed pillow.
    “Lloyd and Mari have been so great. My father’s not the easiest person to work for, but they’ve really been so devoted. And we’re all wild about Takeo. He’s like a member of our family. My brother, Phillip, says sometimes it seems like K-
san
and I favor Takeo over his children.” Becca laughed and then glanced at her watch, which was shaped like a sundial. “K-
san
should be here soon—I’m sure he’d love to meet you. He must be running a little late. And Lloyd, too. Is he on his way?”
    Mas grunted. He didn’t know how to answer the woman’s question. He took stock of the damage again. “Terrible,” he muttered. The woman, on the other hand, didn’t seem that rattled at first glance.
    “I’m used to it now. It’s quite an adventure: what havoc will I discover at the garden today?” She was trying to make a joke, but Mas noticed that her eyes were filled with tears. “K-
san
is going to be so pissed. This is the last straw; he’s going to close it down for sure now. Phillip will be happy to hear that.”
    Becca went on. “He doesn’t understand how important this place is, to both K-
san
and me.”
    K-
san
was this Kazzy Ouchi, so this was the daughter? Why was she calling him by his nickname? Must be a strange New York practice.
    Becca must have picked up on Mas’s reaction. “I didn’t grow up with my father, so I never really called him ‘Dad’ or ‘Daddy.’ K-
san
just worked out better.”
    Mas didn’t know why women—at least those not related to him—always wanted to tell him their troubles. He was usually minding his own business, raking leaves by a customer’s back door or buying cigarettes and beer at the local liquor store, when some lady would appear right next to him, ready to spill her guts. Was it because they knew that he would keep his mouth shut or that he had no one, at least no one who mattered, to reveal their secrets to?
    Mas looked over the garden once again. It wasn’t large, maybe fifteen hundred square feet, but Lloyd seemed to have put up a valiant effort. Azalea bushes and sculpted pine trees had all been arranged artfully around the dry koi pond. A thatch of bamboo was planted in the left-hand corner—Lloyd should be careful that the bamboo didn’t crowd out the rest of the plants, Mas thought. Bamboo, which could spread as fast as wildfire, was hell to deal with. A
toro
, a cement Japanese lantern, had been placed on the north side of the path next to three good-sized rocks. By a wooden shed in the other corner was a pile of smaller rocks, most likely to be eventually used to outline the edge of the pond. The pond itself was shaped like a
hyotan
, or gourd—not the classic
kokoro
shape, but a popular choice nonetheless. It was simple and uncomplicated, almost like an hourglass figure of a shapely woman. A bridge, trimmed with cut bamboo poles, stretched over the pond.
    “You should have seen it—all covered over,” said Becca, obviously noticing Mas’s study of the pond. “It had been used as a badminton court. When the Waxley House recently came back on the market, K-
san
bought it and unearthed the pond. He’s restoring it the way his father would have wanted it to be.”
    Mas nodded.
    “My grandfather was Mr. Waxley’s gardener. He built this garden in K-
san
’s honor. Look, there’s even a dedication to him carved into the base of the pond.”
    Becca began to push through the debris with her bare hands, but Mas waved her off. No matter how much he didn’t want to get involved in this mess, it wasn’t right for a lady—even one with three holes in her ears—to go through trash. He removed a pair of work gloves that he had stashed in his inside pocket. He’d figured that New York would be cold, and he’d had no time to buy proper gloves. He told Becca to bring over a shovel and some gauze or tape from a first aid kit. Becca seemed confused by the second request, but went dutifully anyway toward the