“Why, yes! That was my father’s name. He often spoke of meeting Thomas Wolfe but I thought it was his mind wandering with age. He had me late in life and we had very few years we could share as adults together. We had in common a love of literature, though. You say Hazel had first editions that belonged to my father? How curious! I wonder why she left it to you to return them?”

“I am not certain about her reasons but in my search I found something else you might be interested in.”

Harry pulled the small diary out of the canvas bag he had used to transport the professor’s books. The professor opened the small book, read a few lines and slowly rounded his desk and sat down heavily in his office chair. Harry took a chair opposite him and waited for the professor to gather his wits.

“Where did you find this? Did Hazel have this, too? Why, oh why didn’t she return it to me? We shared so many things, yet I feel as if she’s a mystery.”

“I didn’t find the diary in Aunt Hazel’s house, professor. I found it …” Harry wondered if the professor would believe his story. “ I found it while doing research into the owner of the Wolfe books. It was hidden amongst a great many books I found today. It’s a long story, Professor and I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Perhaps we can have dinner some evening and maybe trade some Aunt stories and search for some answers together?”

“Thank you Harry. I would like that very much. At the moment, though, if you don’t mind, I’d like to catch my breath and read my father’s diary. May I call you in a day or two? Are you staying at your Aunt’s house?”

“Yes, I am arranging her possessions for disposal. We can go through the house and see if there’s anything else you’d like as a momento and I would be pleased to cook dinner for you. That way we can talk without interruption, if you would like?”

“Yes, Harry, I would like that. Give me a few days and we’ll set a date and time.”

Harry left the Professor staring off into space and left the university with many more questions than answers when he arrived. He was still a bit shocked, himself, over his earlier experience. He didn’t want to believe he’d actually been transported to somewhere else in the blink of an eye, or the tick of a clock. He felt completely certain the ugly clock was the catalyst but there was no rational reason he could think of for being transported by no obvious physical means. And the fact that he was transported to a place with answers to the research he had been doing was even more fantastic.

Harry felt He had better prepare himself for more unusual experiences, though. He had a growing certainty that his Aunt was much more unusual than he’d ever known or expected.

For several days Harry went from one room to another, touching nothing, writing descriptions and making detailed sketches. From time to time he would come across an item that puzzled him; gave him a tingle down the spine. Those items he entered in a separate sketch book for later research. There were still drawers and trunks he hadn’t opened but after the ugly clock incident he was reluctant to touch anything he hadn’t brought into the house himself, other than in the kitchen, of course. A man had to eat and the dishes, silver, pots and pans were surely innocuous, he assumed.

One morning, though, while going through the cupboards looking for a double boiler, Harry came across a fish steamer of curious make and design. It was constructed as all such were; oblong, about 16 inches long with a removable perforated rack. The metal was silver in color with iridescent waves along the lid and sides. The lid handle was shaped similar to a Japanese koi with realistic coloring. Harry couldn’t decide if the handle was metal cleverly heated into the varied hues or enamel. He almost reached out for it, but stopped himself just short of touching. He had planned to prepare salmon for the dinner with Professor Lumley, and a decadent dessert (hence the search for the double boiler) but changed his mind. Unless he could find another fish broiler, the salmon would have to be prepared another way.

As he carefully pushed closed the cupboard door the ugly clock gave a rusty bong. Sighing, Harry opened the door, picked up the steamer and took it into Aunt’s room to check the clock. Not surprisingly, the clock was four hours behind. Before touching the clock, Harry picked up a new sketchbook, his mechanical pencil and his canvas messenger bag (into which he placed the steamer) and a windbreaker to match his umber-toned outfit of the day. As an afterthought he also added some water crackers, a small unopened round of gouda, two fuji apples and a small bottle of wine in the bag with the steamer. He included a napkin wrapped wine glass, a corkscrew and patted his pockets to make sure he had his pocket knife. If he was going to be gone four hours he wanted to be prepared for lunch. And any weather changes that might occur. After further thought Harry retrieved a small pen light and a box of matches.

Prepared as best he could imagine after only one clock-induced trip, Harry touched the glass front of the clock. After a momentary dizziness, as before, Harry blinked his eyes into focus and found himself standing in a beautiful garden that appeared Japanese in nature. At his feet was a pond ten feet in diameter in which water lilies grew and koi swam. Harry wandered through the garden looking for some clue, some tie between a fish steamer and his present location, other than the koi in the pond. Harry felt it would be rude and possibly counter productive to remove a fish from this habitat. He appeared to be in what was termed a natural garden with ponds, waterfalls, streams, trees, shrubs sheltering ferns and delicate irises, tiny bridges; all enveloping visitors in tranquility and comfort.

Winding his way through the garden, he approached and passed through a wooden arch into another garden. This second garden was actually a series of sand and stone plots. Some were kept rigidly raked and arranged, though the patterns changed with the day of the week, the phases of the moon and the weather. Two were reserved for children and adults to experiment with. The weathered stones were smaller and movable and there were rakes of various sizes and shapes from fine toothed straight ones to curved wider-toothed rakes. Small and large, they all made different patterned lines in the pure white or black sands. Harry paced between the borders toward the far side and another gate; this one made of carved stone.

Through the stone gates Harry found an outer garden with a well and discretely placed  benches surrounded by delicate screening bushes and trees, all planted in such a way as to calm and enhance quietness of spirit as people waited to attend a traditional tea ceremony at the Tea House in the center garden. Every element of the garden within was arranged harmoniously and precisely, just as a tea ceremony is harmonious and precise. Harry took the opportunity to sit and enjoy the ambience.

Finally it was his turn to participate in a tea ceremony. First, however, he was tutored in the guest’s responsibilities in the ceremony offered by this particular garden. The gestures and phrases, the proper way to take tea and the accoutrements, and general deportment was taught. Once the tutor, a young Japanese girl immaculately turned out in traditional geisha costume, felt he had a good grasp of the basics and could deport himself properly, he was led to a small stone basin where he washed his hands and rinsed his mouth out. He was then taken to a tea house where he removed his shoes and entered a tiny alcove with simple, elegant decorations he admired for a few minutes before being served a light meal followed by rice wine.

He returned to the waiting shelter until summoned by the host to the tea room where, with the sounds of water and fire, the smells of incense and tea, he watched as the host’s assistant cleaned the implements with graceful movements, made the tea and offered it to him. He performed his portion of the ritual as instructed, saying little and enjoying the relaxing ceremony immensely. It suited his sense of exactitude. After taking tea he watched as the implements were cleaned, then presented to him one at a time, on a special square of brocade for admiration of their antiquity and beauty.

Outside the tea room and back into his expensive brown loafers, Harry wandered through the garden, finding a bench occupied by the young tutor. He bowed respectfully and started to retreat when she invited him to sit beside her.

“You did well, sir, in the tea ceremony. Not many perform so well their first time.”

“Thank you, but it was entirely due to your tutoring. You explained everything precisely and completely.”

The young lady looked to her hands lying in her lap like small white birds, smiled and blushed a bit. He felt a tingle that somehow made him feel he was in the right place at the right time, though how this young lady and a fish steamer had anything in common needed to be determined. Questioning her about her past he found that she was an orphan,  nearly destitute until she was trained as a tea ceremony tutor. She had little she could call her own. Her room, board and clothing were all owned by the “host”; the manager of the gardens. The gardens were maintained and run for a growing tourist trade in an American city that had a new sister city in Japan. Her name was Hanako meaning flower child. And she was indeed a beautiful and delicate flower.

Hana was saving her small stipend to go to a special dance school. It would take many years but she was young, she said, and would continue to work hard and save as much as possible. Harry thought for a moment then removed a page from his sketch book and wrote a few words, dated it and signed it. He included his card, with address and telephone number and placed both into the fish steamer. He asked Hana to show him the way to the host’s office and once there presented him with the fish steamer, stating that it was to be sold and used for Hana’s education. If there were any further expenses or requirements, Harry was to be contacted.

Both Hana and the Host were open-mouthed, stunned that a stranger would do such a generous thing after only half an hour’s acquaintance. Harry felt he had done the right thing and Hana would have her heart’s desire; exactly what she deserved. He took his leave of them and returned through the gardens to the rock upon which the clock rested and noted there was one minute to go before the clock was again keeping the correct time. He prepared himself for the dizzying journey feeling satisfied with his day.

When Harry returned home he sat in the kitchen leafing through his sketchbook. The Japanese gardens had impressed him greatly. After unpacking his canvas bag and finally finding another fish steamer in a cupboard he hadn’t checked previously, Harry continued his dinner preparations for the evening ahead. He’d lost four hours to his impromptu trip but still had time to put together a decent meal.

That evening, over the remainder of a bottle of saki, after an excellent dinner of baked salmon marinated in a ginger broth, julienned carrots, leeks and matsutake mushrooms and sticky rice cakes, Harry decided to tell the Professor about his recent trips to strange places. Professor Lumley was at first skeptical but Harry was so completely calm and detailed in his adventures that the professor found himself believing Harry. They went into Aunt’s room to view the clock, which was keeping perfect time, then returned to the parlor. The professor was so intrigued he volunteered to research the locations of Harry’s first two trips.

The attic would be the most difficult as Harry had few memories of any external stimuli. After much discussion, Harry finally remembered hearing boat whistles and heavy machinery which could mean the dock areas at the western edge of the city. Neither of them had been in the area and didn’t know if it was possible for a structure there to be the size and shape indicated by the dimensions Harry remembered. The attic felt as large as the one in Aunt’s house.