The Key to Midnight

rebelled against marriage when it was proposed, fled from affection when it threatened to ripen into love. She worried that any would-be fiancé might have more curiosity about her when he was her husband than he'd exhibited when he was her lover; she worried that he'd probe too deeply into her past and learn the truth. The truth. The worry always swelled into fear, and the fear swiftly became debilitating, unbearable. But why? Why? She had nothing to hide. Her life story was singularly lacking in momentous events and dark secrets, just as she had told Alex. Nevertheless, she knew that if she had an affair with him, and if he began to feel that they had a future together, she would reject and alienate him with a suddenness and viciousness that would leave him stunned. And when he was gone, when she was alone, she would be crushed by the loss and unable to understand why she had treated him so cruelly. Her fear was irrational, but she knew by now that she would never conquer it.
        With Alex, she sensed the potential for a deeper relationship than she had ever known, which meant that she was walking the edge of an emotional precipice, foolishly testing her balance. Consequently, as they crossed the courtyard of Nijo Castle, she talked incessantly and filled all possible silences with trivial chatter that left no room for anything of a personal nature. She didn't think she could bear the pain of loving him and then driving him away.
        'Westerners,' she told him pedantically, 'seek constant action and excitement from morning to night, then complain about the awful pressures that deform their lives. Life here is the opposite - calm and sane. The key words of the Japanese experience, at least for most of its philosophical history, are "serenity" and "simplicity".'
        Alex grinned winningly. 'No offense meant… but judging by the hyperactive state you've been in since we left the restaurant, you're still more American than Japanese.'
        'Sorry. It's just that I love Kyoto and Japan so much that I tend to run on. I'm so anxious for you to like it too.'
        They stopped at the main entrance to the largest of the castle's five connected buildings. 'Joanna, are you worried about something?'
        'Me? No. Nothing.'
        She was unsettled by his perception. Again, she sensed that she could hide nothing from him.
        'Are you certain you have the time for this today?'
        'Really, I'm enjoying myself. I have all the time in the world.'
        He stared thoughtfully at her. With two pinched fingers, he tugged at one point of his neatly trimmed mustache.
        'Come along,' she said brightly, trying to cover her uneasiness. 'There's so much to see here.'
        They followed a group of tourists through the ornate chambers, and Joanna shared with him the colorful history of Nijo Castle. The place was a trove of priceless art, even if a large measure of it tended to gaudiness. The first buildings had been erected in 1603, to serve as the Kyoto residence of the first shogun of the honorable Tokugawa family, and later enlarged with sections of Hideyoshi's dismantled Fushimi Castle. In spite of its moat and turrets and magnificent iron gate, the castle had been constructed by a man who had no doubts about his safety; with its low walls and broad gardens, it never could have withstood a determined enemy. Although the palace was not representative of Japanese style, it was quite successful as the meant-to-be impressive home of a rich and powerful military dictator who commanded absolute obedience and could afford to live as well as the emperor himself.
        In the middle of the tour, when the other visitors had drifted far ahead, as Joanna was explaining the meaning and the value of a beautiful and complex mural, Alex said, 'Nijo Castle is wonderful, but I'm more impressed with you than with it.'
        'How so?'
        'If you came to Chicago, I wouldn't be able to do anything like this. I don't know a damn thing about the history of my own hometown. I couldn't even tell you the year that the great fire burned it all to the ground. Yet here you are, an American in a strange country, and you know everything.'
        'It amazes me too,' she said quietly. 'I know Kyoto better than most of the people who were born here. Japanese history has been a hobby ever since I moved here from England. More than a hobby, I guess. Almost a vocation. Sometimes… an obsession.'
        His