Richard rented a room in the basement of the Asian American Theme House, hoping that the students there would pitch in to help him find Anna. He had never really thought about his wife's family origins, or even the insistence that she and the children keep the maiden name Mizunami. It was the eighties, after all, and almost every professional woman he knew had kept her own last name. "It's something I can do to keep our honor," Kit said once, teasing him about the wealthy samurai tradition of marrying a daughter with a good name to keep the name intact.

The very first time Richard had met Kit's family, Yuki had set him down and began to talk about the family in Tajimi, the generations of potters who had worked with the clay since the sungoddess had descended from the skies. Sophie translated, bringing in thin cups of hot green tea with burnt bits of popped rice. "Genmai," she said. "It comes from where we come from." Richard was duly impressed, but the subject really never came up again. Or rather, it infused the house, he saw now. Colored every thought, every action in a way completely alien to his own mixed origins.

But now, the name Mizunami meant something to the Takahashis, the Tsurutas. It meant that they could attach a picture to the name: a small city near Tajimi, literally a wave of water. This is what the students taught him as they manned the phones deep into the night, as they planned the next wave of posters, the covering and scouring of neighborhoods in an ever widening circle.

And Richard was more than grateful.

rivers / merge into / distant nothings / so many instances / of the same time / leave undefined / origins / and destinations

the word is / the sound / of water / dripping from/ ancient symbols / tiny particles / of merging / realities

Follow us all: Amy/Anna, Sophie/Yuki, Kit/Richard, minor characters or sift through water leavings and river journeys.