"What is it?"
"Small present. Maybe it help."
Oliver folded the envelope and put it in a safe pocket. "Thank you," he said. "But, you don't need to give me anything."
"You only as rich as what you give away."
They stood, not minding the rain. "What are you doing in the States?"
Oliver asked.
"Teaching one seminar at the University of California, Berkeley. I go back, now." He turned toward the path.
"Teach?"
"Architecture. Japanese kind." His father climbed up onto the path and walked along the edge, not hurrying, not hesitating. Oliver went to his hands and knees again. The express exploded past, but he forced himself to look straight ahead. He was limp when he reached the wooden steps. At the top, his father was waiting as if nothing had happened.
Oliver exhaled and took a deep breath. "Well . . ." He didn't know what to say. His father's eyes were sparkling.
"Maybe you come see us in Kamakura. I will be back there in one month."