From the moment the plane touched down in Tokyo I tried my damndest to show the kid the best time he had ever had. I took him around and introduced him to new faces that were all too familiar to me. We drank saki with beatiful women and had long meaningful conversations til dawn. We slept when the sun came up and sometimes didn't sleep at all. As the days went by I watched him grow older and older. It was remeniscent of some sort of time lapsed photography. I was watching a flower grow and bloom. It was only a matter of time then until I would have to watch it inevitably wither and die. He knew this and I knew this. We both decided never to speak of it. Until one day. The time just seemed right. We both awoke early in the morning. An unusual thing for the two of us then. "We're gonna do something different today kid."

"What are we doing?"

"You'll see when we get there."

We hopped on the bullet train and rode it a good twenty miles out of the heart of the city. We walked along the bright white pebble path, surrounded by head high banzais until we got where I had meant for us to go. It was en enormous statue of the Buddha. It was taller than the both of us ,if we had been standing on top of each other, and covered head to toe in gold leaf. "Wow." The kid said the same single word I had the first time I saw it. It was a sight to behold. So enormous and overwhelmingly beautiful sitting atop it's three tiered plateu in the middle of a meticulously raked sand garden. I sat as close to it as I was allowed to sit, crossing my legs, my feet on my thighs. The kid followed suit. I heard his knees give out an arthritic crack. I'm sure he heard it too, it was loud enough. God, his face was haggard and wrinkled now. The only thing left still young was that wonderous boyish delight deep in his still innocent eyes. "Do you know much about the Buddha kid?" I asked him.

"Not really."

"He was a man who had everything a man could ever want. Or so you would think. He had a beautiful wife who loved him, two beautiful children, all the riches he could ever want. He was a prince, the son of the king of India and second in line to the throne. But somethin got to nagging at him. Life didn't seem fair to him. According to his religion at the time, all the little people of the earth that weren't priests or princes or kings would not be allowed to go to heaven when they died. That was the way things were as far as everyone was concerned. This didn't sit well with him. He left his house of wealth and his beautiful life and traded his fancy robes for an old beggars clothes. He set out in search of the truth. For a long time all he did was walk through the woods and think deep thoughts. Finally, after finding nothing, he almost decided to turn back and go home. He decided to rest under a shaded fruit tree. He got to thinking while he sat beneath those branches and he didn't move a muscle for forty days and forty nights.

At the end of it all he came to realize something that most of us will never realize. He figured life out. Every last bit of it. From then on he walked around with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. But that tiny smile glowed so far and wide that everyone started to take notice. People came from all around to try and learn from him what he knew. He tried to teach them as best he could. But what he learned can't really be taught. It's more something every man has to find for himself. Woman too for that matter."

"What did he learn?"

"I'll be damned if I know. But Buddha used to say that life was suffering, it's safe to say that alot of people in the world believe that no matter what religion they are. But they're getting the message all wrong. Suffering ain't a bad thing in his book. Suffering might as well be called experience for all it's worth. That man loved life, he loved his suffering no matter how bad it got, why else would he have spent the rest of his days trying to teach his wisdom to other people if he didn't. One of the things he learned under that tree was to love life and every single person place and thing in it. And he loved death even more. Because he knew that death is the most natural part of life. As natural as birth. It's the rising and setting of the sun. Just as beautiful. Death may cause people more suffering in life then anything else in this world. But it's a beautiful and natural thing. It comes to all of us. It's only the fella that fears death that has the hardest trouble loving life."

Danny didn't say a single thing after I finished talking. Guess he felt there was nothing needed sayin. He just sat there with that happy smile on his face, staring up and fat old golden buddha.

We stayed there under the peaceful gaze of that big old fella for the rest of the day. Finally, at sunset we hopped back on that train and made our way to the little hotel room. "You feel like goin' out somewhere tonight kid? Up for some karaoke?"

"No thanks Logan. Think I'm just gonna get to bed early tonight."

We slept.

I awoke the next morning and something didn't smell quite right. I knew instantly what it was even before I went into his room. It was the kid's smell. He smelled too old. I slid open the thin paper screen and saw him lying there on the bed, as peaceful as I had ever seen him. It was the smell of fresh death. I knew it well. I walked somberly over next to him. Out of pure habit I reached down and checked his pulse. Nothing. Damn. I finished the bottle of saki that had been sitting next to the bed and made my way back to my room. I sat for a long while before I made my phonecall.

My old friend Yukio picked up after two rings. I could tell by the sound of her voice she had been asleep. "Who's calling me at this hour?" She spoke in Japanese.

"I need you to come over here as soon as possible Yukio." I spoke back, again in Japanese.

She knew it was me. She could tell by the sound of my voice something was wrong and she asked what it was.

"I'll tell you when you get here. Bring the car. And something to dig with."

She told me she would be right there and I hung up.

We stood with our heads hung low over the freshly filled grave. The smell of the soft earth mixed with the lingering scent of the kid would have brought tears to my eyes if I could cry. The midday sun hung over our heads as well, shining softly through the leaves and branches of the tall old pear tree. "I think I need to be alone for a while Yukio. Thanks for your help."

"I will always be there for you Logan. May he rest in peace."

I nodded and she left.

I sat beneath the shade of that tree until the sun set, there was no shade anymore, and it was growing cold. Before I left I brought out my claws and carved the kid's name into the tree that would be the headstone of his final resting place. Daniel Turner. I'm sure he would like it here.

I caught the next plane back to Oregon. Got my bike and......