“This is impossible!”
“Don’t give up so easily, Jake…”
It had been another wintery day; snow causing traffic congestion. Work was cancelled, so I invited Lauren over to my place again and together we tried to figure out the puzzle.
“No! Lauren, it doesn’t go there.”
“But on this website it says that it goes in there.”
A frustrating two hours had passed, and we had barely made any progress. At least, by now, Lauren and I had figured out that we were supposed to fit the thirty-eight pieces around and into a decent sized metal cube that had square holes in it. Another two hours had drifted past, when we decided to stop. Surely there was another way?
SMASH.
A yell echoed from up the stairs “JACOB!”
Light taps sounded as Lauren briskly walked downstairs
“What?”
“Don’t resort to using a hammer! What if you damage what’s inside? Huh? Did you ever think of that bird brain?”
My sister can be so pushy sometimes. I realized that this wouldn’t get anywhere, only dents appeared as a result of hammering. An entire day had gone by already and now the fiery sun was slowly disappearing underneath the neat horizon. Drained of energy, I stared blankly at the wall
Lauren glanced at me and bit her lip. Finally she decided “Let’s get some dinner.”
There was only one decent restaurant nearby, ‘Obento,’ a restaurant that specializes in Japanese cuisine. Leaves shuffled on the ground and a gentle, cold breeze swept the roads. As we were strolling, an idea hit me.
“Lauren! You know how dad was always good friends with the owners of ‘Obento?’”
“Yeah…”
“Well, I reckon they’d know something about the Japanese puzzle box, eh?”
Lauren didn’t look entirely conviced, but nodded.
Not long after, Lauren and I arrived at ‘Obento.’ A warm rush of air greeted us as we entered the quiet restaurant.
“Konichiwa! Hope you are well this evening. Table for two?”
“Yes please.”
As we sat down, a pleasing aroma of tea and sushi wafted towards us. Reading the beautifully decorated menus and absorbing the familiar surroundings Lauren and I couldn’t help, but think about dad.
Though the meal was impeccable, there was always that nagging presence of the Japanese puzzle box. As we finished and paid, Lauren called for the head chef of ‘Obento,’ Masayuki Tanaka. Meeting us with a considerate smile, he offered his deepest sympathy. He knew what had happened.
“Masayuki, my father left me a Japanese puzzle box before he passed away. Would you be able to help me figure it out?” I retrieved the frustrating metal cube and handed it to Masayuki.
“Ahh…” He stroked his chin and examined the metal cube thoroughly and replied “It was me who actually gave this to your father. This puzzle box can only be opened by the true master of puzzles, who resides in Japan.
Masayuki was a plump man and he strutted briskly out of sight and returned with a business card. The business card read:
Honorary Takumi Oshiro
Level Underground 22 - 1073A Nakahara Hwy, Tokyo
Lauren and I nodded at each other knowingly. We were going to Japan!
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