at all, because he saw Death in front of him, looking incredibly beautiful. (Why be afraid, if she was waiting for you?)
But the more he learnt, the worse it got.
You couldn’t tell lies, you couldn’t doss about doing nothing, you couldn’t sleep on a feather bed (no mollycoddling yourself at all!) and you had to torture and torment yourself, toughen yourself up and in general really put yourself through it.
Senka listened and listened, and decided he didn’t want to go through all that agony. He’d already seen more than enough poverty and hunger – in fact he’d only just got a whiff of real life.
‘Ain’t there any simpler way, without the Way? Just so you can fight?
Masa was upset by that question, he shook his head. There is, he said, but then you’ll never beat a tiger, only a jackal.
‘Never mind, a jackal’s good enough for me,’ Senka declared. ‘I can walk round a tiger, me legs won’t fall off.’
Well, that made the Japanese even more sorrowful. ‘Damn your lazy soul,’ he said. ‘But take off your jacket and you can have your first resson.’
And he started teaching Senka the right way to fall if someone smashed you hard in the face.
Senka learned the skill quickly: he fell correctly, tumbled right over backwards and back up on his feet, and all the time he was waiting for Masa to ask him where a Khitrovka ragamuffin got so much money.
He never did.
But before he left, Masa said: ‘The master asks if you want to tell him anything, Senka-kun? No? Then sayonara.’
That was how they said ‘see you later’.
And he got into the habit of coming to the boarding house, never missed a day.
If Senka went down to breakfast, Masa was already there, sitting by the samovar, all red from drinking tea, and the landlady was serving him more jam. When he was there, strict Madam Borisenko went all soppy and started blushing. How come he affected her like that?
Then afterwards the Japanese gymnastics lesson began. Truth be told, Masa spent more time jabbering away than teaching him anything useful. The wily Oriental was obviously still trying to drag Senka on to that Way of his.
For example, he was teaching Senka to leap down off the roof of the shed. Senka had climbed up all right, but he couldn’t jump, he was afraid. It was fifteen feet! He’d break his leg!
Masa stood beside him, preaching. It’s the fear that’s stopping you, he said. Drive it away, a man doesn’t need it. All it does is stop your head and your body doing their job. You know how to jump, don’t you? I showed you, I explained. So don’t be afraid, your head and your body will just do it if fear doesn’t stop them.
Easily said!
‘So isn’t there anything in the world you’re afraid of, Sensei?’ That was what Senka had to call him, ‘sensei’. It meant ‘teacher’. ‘I didn’t think there was anybody who didn’t have any fear.’
The answer was: There are some people, but not many. The master, for instance, he’s not afraid of anything. But there is one thing that I am very much afraid of.
Senka felt a bit better when he heard that. ‘What? Dead men?’
No, said Masa. I’m afraid the master will put his trust in me and I’ll disappoint him, let him down. Because of my stupidity or circumstances beyond my control. I’m terribly afraid of that, he said. All right, stupidity lessens as the years go by. But only the Buddha has power over circumstances.
‘Who does?’ Senka asked.
Masa pointed one finger towards the sky. ‘Buddha.’
‘Ah-ha, Jesus Christ.’
The Japanese nodded. That’s why, he said, I pray to him every day. Like this.
He closed his narrow eyes, folded his hands and started droning something through his nose. Then he translated it: ‘I trust in the Buddha and do everything I can.’ That was their prayer in Japan, he said.
‘That ain’t Japanese. Trust in God and do right yourself.’
They talked divine matters one other time too.
A lot of flies had appeared in Senka’s room. They’d obviously come in for crumbs – he’d become a real fiend for guzzling fancy pastries.
Masa didn’t like flies. He caught them, like a cat with its paw, but as for squashing or swatting them – not on your life. He always carried them to the window and let them fly away.
Senka asked him: ‘Why do you take all that trouble with them, Sensei? Just swat them, and the job’s done.’
And the answer was: You