he explained. “In case you are wondering.” I waited for him to go on. He seemed embarrassed by his admission and was content to allow the word to hang in the air for as long as possible, as though it were a cloud that would dissipate with the wind. Finally, I asked, “Possession or sale?” I immediately regretted my bluntness; I needed to encourage Hamamoto, not assault him. As I feared, my question appeared to offend him. “Possession. Mariko and Tamara and two boys … men, really. Tourists, skiers. They were from Chicago. They attended Northwestern University. The sheriff arrested them all. This was in March. We were … devastated. My wife, she …” Hamamoto bowed his head. The hair on his crown was thinning. “There was much shame. It was my fault. Mariko should not have been granted the … the … oh, oh …”
