My Name is Kimyo!

~ The nail that sticks out is hammered down. ~

The young man was determined to learn how to read and write the language of his new home. The Eastern Island's speech was similar to Kimyo's tiny village, with every fourth or fifth word almost identical. Many others were only slightly different. He could figure out even the never-heard-before island words with some work.

The Eastern Island writing, however, was another matter. No matter how hard he tried, he could not make sense of the strange-looking letters. Kimyo was studiously scratching in the sand with his old counting stick whenever he was not busy surviving.

His old family boat was pulled a couple of hundred feet onto the Island shore by the same islanders who had saved him from the sea. The young man's craft was just short of the vegetation but well out of the reach of the hungry tide. It provided Kimyo with shade, privacy, protection from bad weather, and a place to sleep.

Everyone on the Island came to gawk at him for the first few days after his arrival. They pointed to his eyes and mumbled to themselves. Usually, someone in the crowd would bring him food, rice cakes, dried fish, or Island fruit.

Kimyo loathed being the subject of the Islander's gossip. He wished they would go away and leave him alone, bedded down in his small boat home. After those visits in the early days, the novelty wore off. There were no more visitors and no more food gifts either.

***

On the second day without visitors, the youth was lying on his boat home, feeling sorry for himself. Someone pounded on the stern of his vessel, and Kimyo jumped upright. A smallish man, barely larger than him, stood beside his boat.

The man's face was darkened from many years of exposure to the sun; he was dressed in a plain working man's tunic. A straw hat shaded his eyes; the man's visage was lined with deep wrinkles. His facial features seemed to set into a permanent, unhappy scowl. He immediately reminded Kimyo of Kuni's dead father.

The man looked at the young boy with his sharp, piercing, intense stare as he pointed his thumb against his chest and barked, "I am Mister Ryoshi. If you need work and you want to eat, follow me. If you don't want either," Ryoshi shrugged his thin yet corded shoulders, "it doesn't matter to me."

When he finished his speech, Ryoshi spun around on his heel and began marching away briskly.

Kimyo muttered, "What... I mean, who...I...."

🐉 ~ Do not be a fool, boy. Follow that man, now! The Wind Spirit mentioned a kind man named Ryoshi. ~

The young man hurriedly sprung from his craft onto the soft sand. He ran after the little man Ryoshi as quickly as he could manage. When he caught up to him, Ryoshi abruptly stopped and turned to look closely at the youth panting at his side.

"Do you know how to use nets, boy?"

Kimyo hesitated, then replied quickly, "Of course I do!"

🐉 ~ Show respect, my little man ~

Kimyo corrected himself, "I mean, yes sir, Mister Ryoshi, I know all about- hmm -nets... sir."

Ryoshi studied the little man-child up and down, taking a full measure of him. "Hmmph, we will see; come with me." They were off again, with Ryoshi taking long, urgent strides and the youngster running and puffing to keep up.

The many lagoons and smaller bays around Mr. Ryoshi's business were left open to the waves and tides overnight. At first light, the net-workers would rapidly pull up the nets left on the ocean's bottom. These nets were tied to long wooden poles strategically placed to seal shut these smaller, shallow bodies of water effectively.

Any fish that were occupying the many lagoons were trapped. Then, the real work began. The laborious task of hauling the nets from the far end of the lagoon to shore via a complex rope and pulley system. It was hard work with the sun's heat reflecting off the water's surface. Mr. Ryoshi would rotate daily which areas the net-workers would harvest. Kimyo soon understood why Mr. Ryoshi was so lean and corded with muscle . . .

END

Questions to think about:

Kimyo insists that the bad things (abuse) didn't happen to him. They happened to Kuni.

Do you agree with him?

Does changing your name change your past?

Would Kimyo be better off accepting the type of man his father was?

Do children have to grow up and become like their parents?