In another moment, the entire band was laughing in unison and octaves. It was not this one joke that rendered them hysterical but, rather, the cumulative effect of each disbelieving minute they’d spent playing what to their ears was akin to well-organized insanity. That they themselves had been the source of this racket, having had no idea what discordant gaffe might come next out of their own instruments, had left them even more helplessly regaled.

Fumio rose to his feet and moved as fast as he could to the platform without losing his dignity. He barked something that caused them all to stop laughing in an instant. Fumio snapped off some additional sternly-spaced words and called me over.

“They wish to offer their apology,” he said.

I told him it was all right, that this was a very new kind of music, and that often it took time to get used to such unusual sounds. I turned to Kat and said, “Would you like me to rehearse it with the band?”

He said, in a voice intended to be heard by the orchestra “No, I will get them to play it with more sensitivity. You are right, of course.” He looked at the musicians and said for my benefit, “Hai? We are acting like children. It’s as if we saw a painting by Mr. Pablo Picasso and said, Look, he has put both her eyes on the same side of her face, and we laughed at that. I have heard many stranger sounds than this in Europe.” He added some words in Japanese and they nodded in assent. “As Mr. Dakuzaku has correctly pointed out, this was the selection of the committee in Tokyo. It is not our position to judge their judgment. Our responsibility is to realize the composer’s intent.”

It was unforgivable that Gail had been forced to endure her first artistic slap in the face on a day when life had already pummelled her into submission. I looked back to see if the composer was hearing any of this.

The composer was not to be seen.

Chapter 43

43

A Burning Issue

I excused myself and hurried out of the garden. I described Gail to the kimonoed girl I’d met earlier and she pointed me toward Western Way.

I saw Gail getting on an Elephant Train heading in the direction of the East Bay ferry slip. My best long-distance running speed was somewhat slower than the train’s, but I was at least able to keep her in my sight. However, the train didn’t stop at the ferry landing as I’d expected. Instead it accelerated and crossed into the parking lot.