Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
Full character'd with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain
Beyond all date, even to eternity;
Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
Have faculty by nature to subsist;
Till each to razed oblivion yield his part
Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd.
That poor retention could not so much hold,
Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;
Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
To trust those tables that receive thee more:
To keep an adjunct to remember thee
Were to import forgetfulness in me.
William Shakespeare
Sonnet CXXII
Remember the sabbath day to hallow it.
Exodus 20:8
An Adjunct to Remember
by Richard Lawson
Ranma groggily opened one eye. Nothing bad happened, so he opened the
other one.
Nothing good happened, so he closed them again.
The image of the sunlight streaming though the window wound its way down his
neural pathways. It flitted here and there, touching on his memories. A
time as a child when he lived at home, his *real* home, before his father
had taken him on his training mission. He had been very young, and he was
running around, laughing happily, chasing bubbles as they floated in and
out of the sunbeams. Someone was sitting in a chair, blowing the bubbles
into the air of a room of some sort. Ranma was chasing after them madly,
sometimes smacking them with his fist, sometimes kicking them with his feet,
sometimes doing his best to catch them gently in his hands. It was a very
old, very pleasant memory, one he hadn't realized he'd had.
The sunlight played with his mind some more, and now he was dreaming. He
was sitting on a porch, and Akane - his wife, although he couldn't remember
marrying her - was sitting next to him, and they were watching their son
playing in the yard, the sunlight reflecting off the pool. He reached over
and put his arm around Akane's shoulders, Akane turned to him and smiled,
and it felt very good.
The sunlight finally reached a portion of his brain where rational analysis
occurred. He sat bolt upright in a panic. The sun was up. He had to go to
school, he was late.
He jumped up, stumbled over the panda sleeping next to him, and fumbled
into his clothes. No time to wash, he was going to be late. Akane would
kill him. He grabbed his bookbag with a vague sense of dread, a feeling
that he hadn't finished his homework.
Ranma flew down the stairs. He was about to fling open the front door
when he remembered his lunch. He ran down the hallway, past the dining
room which he peripherally noticed was empty, and to the kitchen. He
stood in the doorway and blinked. Not only was the kitchen empty, but his
lunch wasn't sitting out waiting for him.
Kasumi. He needed to find Kasumi. She probably had his lunch. He whirled
around and ran down the hallway. He screeched to a halt at the door
leading to the back yard. Kasumi was sitting on the steps of the porch,
idly sipping some tea.
Ranma jumped down the steps and turned to face her. "Kasumi, where's my
lunch? I am *so* late."
Kasumi had been staring at the pond. She turned her gaze to Ranma. He
was immediately struck by the calm, thoughtful, serene look on her face.
Not that she didn't almost always look like that, but usually she was
smiling too. Now her face was calm, almost serious. Which, for Kasumi,
was quite rare.
"Ranma-kun." Her voice was also somber, but still pleasant. "It's
Sunday."
Ranma closed his eyes and growled to himself. The one day a week he
didn't have to go to school, and his mind had tricked him into getting up
early.
He opened his eyes again, grimacing. "Sorry, Kasumi. I forgot."
"That's okay, Ranma. I'll go fix breakfast in a moment." She turned her
gaze back out into the yard.
Ranma studied her some more. She still wasn't smiling. She was just
sitting there, evidenlty lost in thought. Ranma didn't know her well
enough to know if something was bothering her.
Ranma frowned at the thought. A year he'd been here, and he hardly
knew Kasumi. He just *knew* that she would always be there, doing the
housework, preparing the meals, doing her best to keep the sometimes
volatile tempers under control. She was just a presence, as much a part
of the household as the doors or windows.
That bothered Ranma. He wondered if the life Kasumi led was fulfilling.
She had never spoken of her own ambitions, had never expressed a desire
to be a part of anything. Ranma tried to imagine leading the life Kasumi
led and involuntarily shuddered. He simply wouldn't be able to, he'd go
crazy in a very short while.
He came to a decision. He sat on the porch next to Kasumi, setting his
bag on the steps next to him. "Whatcha thinking about, Kasumi?"
Kasumi didn't answer at first, just sipped her tea. Ranma was about to
apologize for disturbing her when she finally spoke. "My mother."
Ranma immediately realized he was in over his head. Again. He'd asked
for her thoughts and gotten them, and now he had no idea what to do.
He did what he did best, which was to say the first thing that came to
his mind. "Why?"
Kasumi had her cup in front of her mouth, but she wasn't sipping from it.
She was still staring out into the yard. As Ranma watched, traces of pain
and sadness crept into her expression. He swallowed, regretting the
questions and wishing he could take them back.
"I was twelve years old when Mother first started getting back pains."
Kasumi's voice was soft. She sounded almost like she was telling a bedtime
story. "She went to the chiropractor often, but he couldn't do anything
for her. Finally, after three months, she went to a medical doctor who
diagnosed her with cancer of the spine. She immediately underwent
chemotherapy, but the cancer was too widespread."
Ranma flinched inside. This was definitely too deep for him. He didn't
have a choice, however. He braced himself and prepared to listen seriously
to Kasumi.
Kasumi didn't appear to be paying any attention to him anyway. "Father
was devastated. He loved her so much. He stopped functioning. He'd sit
with her for hours, trying to be strong but mostly crying.
"Mother was very brave. She knew she was dying but she refused to let it
depress her. Instead, she worked with Father, trying to bolster his
spirit, preparing him for the day when she would be gone."
Kasumi paused to take another sip. "Father didn't get better. As Mother
became worse and started wasting away, Father began to withdraw from us.
The times he wasn't sobbing he spent in a state of shock, unable to cope
with the outside world.
"One day, Mother sent him home with my sisters, asking me to stay behind
so she could give me a recipe to prepare for dinner. After they were gone,
Mother had me sit next to her. Her eyes were yellow, and she had a turban
on to hide the fact that her hair was gone. She wasn't eating well and
had lost a lot of weight. She couldn't hold her head up by herself, and
was propped up in a lot of pillows. I could see the pain in her eyes.
Sometimes the medication made her mind drift; it was when the medication
had begun to wear off and the pain was at its greatest that she could
speak the most lucidly. I think she'd been waiting for exactly that
moment, and had sent everyone away when it arrived.
"Mother spoke to me for a long time. She told me that Father was not
going to be able to run the household after she died. She needed me to
do it for her. She apologized for putting the burden on me, but also
told me that I was the most uniquely qualified to do it. Not just
because I was the oldest, but because I had the ability to lead. To
guide people, to get them to do what I wanted them to do. She said she'd
seen me with Nabiki and Akane, and that I could always get my way with
them without having to resort to force. She said that was important, and
that the family needed that quality of mine. That I was going to have to
use it not only with Nabiki and Akane, but with Father as well.
"I didn't like that. I couldn't think of bossing Father around. Mother
told me that there were other ways to guide people without ordering
them. She told me of the methods she used to guide the family. How I
could adapt the methods I used with Akane and Nabiki to work on Father."
Kasumi sipped her tea again. Her forehead wrinkled slightly as she
looked down at it; Ranma imagined that it had become cold. She set the
cup down on the porch, following it with her eyes. "Mother told me that
I was about to enter the most difficult part of a woman's life. Adolesence
was never a fun time, she said, and I was going to feel very insecure and
unsure of myself. She asked me to try and stay strong and confident. The
rest of the family was going to lean on me, including Father.
"I had no idea how I was going to do that. It frightened me. I cried
and told her that I couldn't do it, not without her. I begged her not to
die.
"Mother apologized. She told me she was going to die and that there was
nothing anyone could do about it. She reminded me, however, that a body
was just flesh, a container for the spirit. She said that her spirit
would live on after the body failed."
Kasumi lifted her eyes and stared out into the yard again. "She asked me
to close my eyes and visualize the pond. I did. She asked if I could see
the big rock at one side of the pond. I told her I saw it; Akane, Nabiki
and I were always playing on it. Mother told me that when her body died,
part of her spirit would always be in the rock. From there, she could
watch over the family. She told me that if I ever felt scared, or unsure,
or if I needed strength, that I could always talk to her in the rock. She
would be there to listen."
Ranma looked at the rock. It was big; he'd sat on it or tripped on it or
been thrown against it so many times he'd lost count. It was smooth, large,
and solid. It had been firmly set into the ground by the pond and was as
much a fixture of the Tendo home as anything else was. Ranma had never given
it more than a glance. He stared at it now, trying to figure out if it was
anything more than a stone.
Kasumi continued her story, her voice still even, soft, and sad. "Mother
died a few days later. We were all at her side. She'd been in a coma for
a day, and waiting for her to die was very, very painful. When it was over,
I wept as hard as Father did. I didn't feel strong or confident. I wasn't
a leader. I was just a little girl who'd lost her mother, and I wanted her
back so badly. What's worse, I was feeling ashamed. She'd asked me to
take her place and I was letting her down.
"We eventually went home. It was very late at night and we were all
exhausted. I helped put my sisters to bed. Father went into his room,
and I heard him crying. I wanted to help him but I didn't know what I
could do.
"I tried to go to sleep, but even as tired as I was, the hurt and shame
were too great. I got up and checked on Akane and Nabiki. They were
asleep. I listened at Father's door and he was still crying. I went
downstairs and sat on the porch - it was cold but I didn't care - and
stared into the darkness.
"I don't know how long I sat there, shivering, when dawn finally came.
The yard began to grow lighter and lighter, and I found that I was staring
at the stone. I couldn't feel Mother at all. I just felt cold and lonely
and ashamed."
Ranma was doing his best not to breathe. He had no idea how to respond.
He wanted to help her, but anything he could think of to do seemed stupid
and juvenille. He swallowed and watched Kasumi carefully, hoping she
would tell him what she expected.
"Then, when the sun rose above the wall, a funny thing happened." Kasumi's
voice became awed, breathless. "The first bit of sunlight to break into
the yard hit the rock. For a moment, it seemed as if the rock was glowing,
lighting up the rest of the yard. After a minute, more of the sunshine
appeared and the rest of the yard began to receive daylight. But I'll
never forget that one moment, the instant when Mother's spirit entered the
rock and first gave me strength.
"After a moment, I got up and went to Father's room. I didn't knock, I
just opened the door and entered, something I'd never done before. Father
was kneeling on the floor, his head and arms sprawled on the bed. He was
still crying. I went up to him and hugged him. He hugged me back and
began sobbing even harder. I knew that I shouldn't cry just then. He
needed me to be strong at that particular moment. After a while, I gently
forced him to stand up - he didn't resist - and lie down in the bed. I
covered him with the blanket and quietly told him to close his eyes and
get some rest. He looked at me for a moment, then did as he was told. As
I was about to leave, he asked me if I was going to stay home from school
today. He was already half-asleep. I gently told him, 'It's Sunday.'
After that, he fell asleep. I went back to my bedroom, looked out into
the yard from my window, looked at the stone, and thanked my mother for
her help. Then I went to bed and fell asleep."
Kasumi sighed, and a small smile appeared. "Since then, I always make it
a point to get up with the dawn on Sunday and commune with Mother's spirit.
She helped me through all the bad times, always lending me her strength and
serenity whenever I needed it. Sunday morning is my special, sacred time,
when I can come and lean on someone just like everyone leans on me."
Ranma gulped. "I'm so sorry, Kasumi, for disturbing you."
Kasumi finally looked at him. Her smile grew wide, and love and affection
were written on her face. "You have not disturbed me, Ranma-kun. I've
kept the knowledge of my mother's spirit to myself for far too long. I
needed to have something secret and special, something only my mother and
I knew. But I've come to realize that there will be a time when I will no
longer be living in this house. Soon, very soon I think, I'm going to
start making plans that will end with me moving out of the house forever."
She reached over and took Ranma's hands into her own. "You'll be living
here after I move out. You and Akane will be the ones to inherit the
house and dojo. You'll be raising your own family here. I'd like to ask
you, Ranma-kun, to remember that the spirit of my mother watches over you.
I'd appreciate it if you would think of her once in a while, maybe even
talk to her. I'll come as often as I can, but I think Mother will be
lonely if she has no one to talk to any more."
Ranma looked into Kasumi's eyes. Her expression was serious, earnest,
even somewhat pleading. Kasumi had never asked anything from him, not
like this. He simply couldn't refuse her. She had done too much for
him. She had accepted him into the house and instantly made him feel
like a part of the family. She had managed to keep the conflicts inside
the house to a minimum - well, as minimum as was possible considering
Akane's temper, Ranma's curse, and the rest of civilation intent on
killing or marrying him or Akane. Ranma had never realized, until this
moment, how much like a mother Kasumi felt to him. He had his own mother,
and he loved her, but Kasumi had been the one taking care of him and
watching over him for the past year. If this was important to her, he
had to do it.
He nodded solemly. "I promise, Kasumi. I won't forget your mother."
The implications of that promise bothered him a little; it assumed that
certain other things were going to happen. For the briefest of moments,
he wondered if that was part of Kasumi's plan. He decided he didn't
want to think about that.
The relief and warmth that radiated from Kasumi was certainly indication
enough about how much this meant to her. "Thank you, Ranma-kun. From
the bottom of my heart." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
Ranma flushed, panicking a little, trying to figure out if he should hug
her or something. Again, he had no idea.
Kasumi saved him by picking up her tea cup and getting to her feet. "I'm
going to start breakfast now, Ranma-kun. If you want, you can go back
to bed and I'll wake you when it's ready."
Ranma considered, then shook his head. "Naw, I think I'll just sit here
for a moment."
Kasumi smiled, a deep and loving smile that made him feel warm at the
same time it made him feel uncomfortable. She walked into the house.
Ranma sat for a while and stared at the rock by the pool, trying to
bring some order to his thoughts. He wasn't sure what to make of
Kasumi's story or her request. He tried to imagine his mother dying
and his mind recoiled. That was something he didn't want to face, and
could only imagine what it must have felt like to a tight-knit, loving
family like the Tendos.
Instead, he sat for a moment imagining spending the rest of his life
in the Tendo home. He found that although his mind recoiled at this
thought as well, at the same time it held a strange attraction. He
just had a feeling that living here forever wouldn't be the worst thing
in the world.
Ranma stood up and went over to the stone. He examined it for a long
while, noticing things in it he'd never seen before.
Ranma smiled. "Don't worry, Mrs. Tendo, I won't forget you." He reached
over and touched the rock. "I think I'll respect Kasumi's privacy next
week. But when she moves out, I'll be here each Sunday at dawn, and we
can talk for a while. I have a feeling I'll also be needing your help."
The sun had been shining on the rock all along, and Ranma was pretty
sure that he just imagined that it glowed for a moment. Still, it was
nice to think that there was more than sunlight warming the heart of
the stone.
Ranma bowed to the stone, then went inside to see if Akane was awake
and to see if she would tell him some more about her mother.