“It’s company policy,” snapped the receptionist. Then, in a gentler, rehearsed voice, “Please call at least twenty-four hours in advance to schedule a visit. Thank you.”

She hung up before Mr. Mok could reply. When he called the number again, it went straight to a recorded message and a softer, kinder version of the receptionist’s voice. Mr. Mok was left wondering uneasily about the kind of place the old woman was staying in. Well, I suppose I’ll find out soon enough, he thought. He made a mental note to call the following morning and schedule a visit for the weekend. That night, however, he received a call from his mother telling him that his Aunt Flora had died, and that the funeral rites would take place that Saturday and Sunday. Mr. Mok promptly gave his assurances that he would be there. He briefly considered visiting the old woman after his return, but remembered that it was generally considered bad luck to visit someone after a funeral. Or was that only for pregnant women and people with young children? Whatever the case, he decided he would have to postpone the visit. He spent the following weekend fishing with his father, who, as usual, chastised him for his poor technique, but didn’t otherwise complain about his company.

When the weekend after that was almost upon him, his colleagues reminded him of the company softball game against the accounting and sales divisions. His division won, and a colleague whom he believed never thought much of him patted him on the back and said “Good game.” The following week, the woman who’d stood him up several months previously invited him to a weekend away at her favorite hot springs resort. He learned that she had just split up with her boyfriend, and though he suspected that he would be little more than a distraction for her, he agreed to go anyway. The touch of another person, even without emotion, was better than nothing. And so it happened; one thing after another prevented him from arranging a visit to the old woman, and as his life became filled with more and more vaguely pleasing distractions, the thought of her began to grow ever more distant, and the cloud of stone that resided in his lungs seemed to lighten a little every day.

Acknowledgments

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS