Father: Failure? or Success?

By Arthur R. Eikamp

"Father" is the story of an American business man who works to make a living in Japan for himself, his Japanese wife and his two children. It is a story of loyalty and betrayal, success and failure. His own weaknesses contribute to his problems as does the Japanese culture. We are left finally with the question, "ultimately, is he a success or a failure?" What actually is success? What is failure?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 2, 2001
• ISBN: 9781462833856

Arthur R. Eikamp

Arthur Eikamp grew up in South Dakota during the depression of the 1930s. After working his way through college and graduate school he married Norma Blewitt from New York. They spent the next two years working with agricultural migrants from the Rio Grande to the Canadian border. They then went to Japan and lived there for 35 years. Before leaving Japan to return to the U. S. he received a medal from the Japanese ministry of education, at which time they were ushered in to meet Emperor Hirohito who thanked them for their service to Japan.

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Copyright © 2001 by Arthur R. Eikamp.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER I

He turned off the main road and walked down a side road. He was looking for some place in the woods where the body would not be readily seen. He came to a narrow trail that became fainter and finally ended all together. He saw a tall tree with a branch he could almost touch by standing on tip-toe.

This will do, he muttered to himself. I can drag that log over to stand on. Now I need to find a rope.

He retraced his steps up the trail to the little side road. He turned down that side road in the opposite direction from which he had come before. The road led to a little park where there were swings and a slide.

I could do everything right here with the rope on the swings, he thought. He stopped and considered the matter and finally rejected the idea.

Children will come here to play. It wouldn’t be right for them to see the body.

He walked on and saw a trash can at the edge of the park.

Maybe there’s something there. He rummaged through the trash and found several pieces of string and a long plastic tape that someone had ripped off a package.

If I braid these all together they’ll work, he said as he retraced his steps. He pushed through the brush and found the tree he had seen before. He sat down on the log and braided the strings and tape into one long cord, occasionally jerking the resulting cord to test its strength.

When he finished, he reached into his breast pocket and took out the cigarette package. There was one cigarette left, just as he had planned. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. An inquisitive squirrel sat on a neighboring log, his tail twitching. He scampered down the log to the far end, stopped, sat up and eyed this intruder.

Hello, little fellow. He tossed a fallen nut in the squirrel’s direction. The squirrel twitched his tail and moved a few feet farther away.

Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Here, have another, and he threw another nut, closer to the squirrel this time. The squirrel took two or three steps toward the nut and sat up, eyeing the man cautiously.

Come on, take it, he said softly, being careful not to move.

The squirrel grabbed the nut and scampered off behind the log.

A blue-jay gave a raucous cry from an upper branch of the tree.

You’re a cocky one you are, the man said to the jay. What’s your problem? Had an argument with Mrs. Jay, did you? Well, you tell her off good.

The jay gave another cry and flew off. The man finished his cigarette and crushed the butt on the ground with his heel. He looked at his watch.

She’ll be coming home from work about now and reading her letter. I’d better get on with this job before she alerts the police and the fellows on the job. David will be getting home soon, too, and reading his letter.

He stood up and took his hybrid rope in hand. He jerked it several times and then stepped on one end and jerked the other with both hands.

It’ll do, he said.

He rolled and dragged the log to where he could reach the branch. He was sweating by this time. He took off his jacket and threw it on the branches of a nearby berry bush.

I won’t need that anymore, he said. As he threw it a movement in the brush caught his eye and he saw the flash of a deer’s tail as it disappeared noiselessly into the woods.

At least, this is an isolated enough place. Nobody ever goes through here, he thought.

He threw one end of the make-shift rope over the branch. He tied a slip knot in it and pulled the loose end down until the knot was tight against the limb. He grabbed the other end with both hands, kicked off the log and swung out over the small ravine. It was the kind of game he and his brother, David, had played as children.

He managed to regain his feet and hang onto the rope, too, as his feet came back to the log.

Well, it’s strong enough, he said.

He felt in his back pocket with one hand while holding onto the rope with the other. He took his wallet out and flipped it open. It was empty of bills, as he already knew, but the cards in it would identify the body when it was found. He thrust the wallet back in his pocket.

Out of habit he touched his breast pocket. It was empty. He had already smoked his last cigarette. He looked up through the tree tops at the blue sky and the white clouds. He heard the murmur of the little stream at the bottom of the ravine. Way off in the distance he heard the faint whine of a truck motor as it strained on some hill.

He thought of the men who had worked for him so faithfully, and tears gathered in his eyes. They, at least, would miss him. He brought each one to mind. Some had been with him more than ten years. They are all good men, he thought. But they’ll be all right, he said to himself. I arranged for a place for each one of them. I left my trucks with them, too. Yes, they’ll be all right. Thinking of them led him to thoughts of her and of the letter she had written. The muscles tightened in his face. His eyes narrowed. His fists tightened on the rope. She couldn’t tell me herself; she had to write it in a letter, he muttered. Twenty years of supporting her and the kids and she didn’t even have the decency to tell me herself. It’s that low-down, good-for-nothing brother of hers. If he were here I’d kill him with my bare hands.

He moved with new resolve, all uncertainty seemingly gone. He fashioned a noose at the end of the rope, tested it several times. He moved the log a step farther from the tree then.

It’s got to be close enough so the rope will reach, but far enough back so I can’t reach it with my feet after I jump.

It would be easier and more fool-proof just to jump in front of the train as it comes into the station, he mused. He considered that possibility for a minute and then as quickly rejected it.

It wouldn’t be fair to the driver of the train. He thought of the one time he had seen that happen. When the train finally ground to a halt, the engineer jumped down from the cab. He was perfectly innocent, but he was shaking so hard he could hardly stand. That experience shattered the engineer’s life and he quit railroading all together.

No. It wouldn’t be fair to him, he repeated. This is the best way. Let her and her brother deal with it.

He slipped the noose over his head. It barely reached as he tightened it against his neck. He took one last look up at the blue sky. He looked around at the trees and the shrubs. A squirrel appeared on the neighboring log and chattered.

Good bye, Old Fellow, he said. Good bye, Japan.

He tightened the noose. crossed his arms across his chest, and then jumped out into space.

CHAPTER II

Monica came home from the office at five. She unlocked the front door and came into the entry way where she took off her shoes and put on a pair of slippers. She always did that. It eased her feet and it helped keep the house clean.

She put the sack of groceries she carried, on the kitchen table. The children were at her brother’s house where they always went after school until she came home. In a minute she would phone Tsuneo and tell him to send them home, but first she wanted to sit down and take a few minutes to relax before she began the evening meal.

She went into the bath room and splashed some cold water on her face. She wiped her face on a towel and then looked closely in the mirror at the faint wrinkles that formed around her eyes. She ran a brush over her long black hair. She noted with satisfaction that she was still pretty despite her years. She smiled at herself and then walked into the living room and sat down in the big chair that faced the TV. As she sat down she glanced at the mantle and saw the letter braced against the brick chimney.

What’s that? I don’t remember putting anything there.

She got up and took the letter in her hand. Her eyes widened and she uttered a cry,

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Alan, what have you done! She covered her mouth with her left hand as she steadied her right hand with the letter against the mantle and read it again.

Oh, Lord! What shall I do? As she looked around the room frantically she saw the telephone on the stand by the chair.

"Yes,