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VedPrakash3082
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Just behind the kingdom that failed ran a nice little river. It was a clear, lovely stream, and many fish lived in it. Weeds grew there, too, and the fish ate the weeds. The fish didn’t care whether or not the kingdom had failed, of course. Whether it was a kingdom or a republic made no difference to them. They didn’t vote or pay taxes. Makes no difference to us, they figured.
I washed my feet in the stream. A short soak in the icy-cold water turned them red. From the stream, you could see the walls and the tower of the castle in the kingdom that failed. The two-colored flag still flew from the tower, fluttering in the breeze. Everyone passing along the riverbanks would see the flag and say, “Hey, look at that. It’s the flag of the kingdom that failed.”
Q and I are friends—or should I say, were friends in college. It’s been more than ten years since the two of us did anything that friends do. Which is why I use the past tense. Anyhow, we were friends.
Whenever I try to tell anyone about Q—to describe him as a person—I feel totally helpless. I’ve never been very good at explaining anything, but, even taking that into account, it’s a special challenge to try to explain Q to someone. And when I do try I’m overcome by a deep, deep sense of despair.
Let me make this as simple as I can.
Q and I are the same age, but he’s about five hundred and seventy times more handsome. He has a nice personality, too. He’s never pushy or boastful, and he never gets angry if someone accidentally causes a problem for him. “Oh, well,” he’ll say. “I’ve done the same thing myself.” But, in fact, I’ve never heard of him doing anything bad to anyone.
He was well brought up, too. His father was a doctor who had his own clinic on the island of Shikoku, which meant that Q never wanted for pocket money. Not that he was extravagant with it. He was a smart dresser and also an impressive athlete, who’d played interscholastic tennis in high school. He enjoyed swimming and went to the pool at least twice a week. Politically, he was a moderate liberal. His grades, if not outstanding, were at least good. He almost never studied for exams, but he never failed a course. He really listened to the lectures.
He was surprisingly talented on the piano, and he owned a lot of Bill Evans and Mozart records. His favorite writers tended to be French—Balzac and Maupassant. Sometimes he’d read a novel by Kenzaburo Oe or another writer. His critiques were always right on the mark.
He was popular with women, naturally enough. But he was not one of those “anyone he can get his hands on” type of guys. He had a steady girlfriend, a pretty sophomore from one of the fancy women’s colleges. They went out every Sunday.
Anyhow, that was the Q I knew in college. In short, he was a character without flaws.