The middle-aged man who wanted to speak had a deeply lined, reced- ing forehead, a penetrating look, and a very poor complexion. He was very low key, with a hoarse, muttering way of speaking; Kizu realized it had been some time since he'd met a Japanese person like this. The question, it turned out, was directed to him.
"The questions I'd like to ask may have nothing to do with the launch- ing of the new church," the man said. "Still, I hope very much that you'll understand why I have to ask them. Professor Kizu, did you come back to Japan because you heard that the Founder had the power to cure cancer? Did you not get any modern medical treatment because the Founder instructed you not to? How did the Founder treat you, and how long was it before it started to take effect? My next question is best directed at the Founder him- self: Is this treatment also available to people outside the church?"
Ogi passed along a piece of paper with these questions all neatly printed out. Up till now the church members responding to questions had relied on the notes they were taking.
"I don't know if this will help you or not, but I'll tell you about my experience," Kizu began. "While I was living in America, a professor of medi- cine in my institute told me he suspected I had cancer. He recommended a complete examination and said he himself would do the pathology. I resigned myself to this being what I'd been fearing, a recurrence of cancer, and using the sabbatical leave I had coming I scurried off to Japan.
"Five years ago I had an operation for colon cancer. And this last year and a half I haven't been feeling well. Seven years ago my older brother, who also had had colon cancer surgery, found it had spread to his liver, and two years later he passed away. When I came back to Japan to see him before he died, he told me about the symptoms, and they were the same symptoms I was having, so I resigned myself to suffering the same fate. Still, I didn't go into the hospital for all those tests, because I remembered all too clearly how awful the ones they'd run on me before had been, the abdominal artery con- trast test and all the rest.
"My U. S. specialist had referred me to a clinic in Tokyo, and I consulted with the doctor there about how to deal with the disease as it progressed, par- ticularly how to deal with the pain. After doing a CT scan, this doctor concurred with my own assessment of my condition. I thought a biopsy was pointless so I refused to have it done. And when we moved here, the Tokyo doctor passed along all his information to Dr. Koga, who was traveling with me.
"After that, on two separate occasions the pain became so unbearable that the second time they put me in the Red Cross Hospital and removed my gallbladder. I thought the cancer had spread-only to be told that it never was cancer to begin with, which reminded me that I'd never had another biopsy done after the first operation. The doctor at the Red Cross Hospital told me the pain must have been from gallstones and not from any recurrence of cancer. But looking at the symptoms my late brother had, there was defi- nitely a reason for me to think the cancer had recurred and I didn't have long to live. Even now, after doubting it many times, I always come back to that belief.
"Since I moved here I've been living communally with Patron-the Founder, as you call him. I'd met him-and Guide-about a year before in Toyko, and we'd had a number of chances to talk. After we moved here our relationship has gotten closer and Patron modeled for my painting. Still, I never felt he was intentionally treating me. I remember once he told me he'd take responsibility for my physical condition, but he never did anything that made me feel he was consciously working on it, and I can't say that Patron is prepared to treat anyone, either those in the church or those outside. Even so, to answer your question, I feel I did have a recurrence of cancer, which is now cured. And I've found myself believing that moving here and becoming closer to Patron had an effect on what has happened to me."
Kizu stopped speaking, and though he thought nothing he'd said was very well put, the man who'd asked the questions and those around him un- expectedly broke into applause. And then, from beside them, standing because there weren't enough seats, an elderly man, slightly built, but whose chest under a dark blue shirt was unusually muscular, spoke out loudly without waiting to be called on.
"I don't have one of those tickets you need to ask a question, but I'm a blacksmith and farmer from the outskirts, and I think people from out- side might not fully understand what Professor Kizu's saying unless I add something!"
Ogi went over quickly to have a few words with this man who, although it wasn't yet noon, was obviously a bit tipsy. He didn't make him leave but made it quite clear that certain guidelines had to be followed.
"Okay, I get it!" the man said. "I'll cut to the chase. My son Kaji died of lung cancer and a brain tumor. At one point, though, Brother Gii, who built the chapel in the Hollow, used his touch to heal my son's liver cancer. The doctor at the Red Cross Hospital said the cancer had shrunk an incredible amount.
"I believe there's a power in the Hollow that raises people up who have a healing touch and draws them in from elsewhere. Wasn't it this power of the land that brought out the Founder's healing power? In this new church, too, you should make this healing power available to all those suffering from cancer! From his grave I'm sure Kaji would want this."
The man who asked the first questions, not paying any heed to this sec- ond man, interrupted. "We're really counting on the sermon tomorrow. But if at all possible, either before or after the party today, can we meet with Patron? We've all come a long way, hoping we could." And he bowed his head, as did the tipsy blacksmith-cum-farmer whose pronouncements had been cut short.
That was the end of the press conference, and in the stir as the report- ers, TV crews, and participants all stood up, the American reporter, Fred Parks, who was accompanied by Mrs. Tsugane, came over to the long table where Kizu was still seated.
"I think it's very wise the way you've allowed the interested parties to debate the internal issues of the church in front of foreign reporters," Parks said. "I've attended Aum press conferences, and they never let any problems they might be having among themselves see the light of day."
"That's right, Fred," Kizu replied. "Our church is different from both Aum Shinrikyo and from your country's insistence on sticking to principles no matter what."
"Those cancer patients are so sad," Fred said. "It struck me that maybe you never had cancer to begin with. If that's the case, you're one sly fellow- sitting there with a straight face like one big billboard for the church."
While the two of them were talking in English, Mrs. Tsugane tilted her newly permed head toward Ogi and whispered something. Kizu had wanted to ask Ikuo if there was anything he could do to help out between the after- noon program and the evening party at the Farm, but Ikuo had disappeared while Kizu was talking with Fred.
After Mrs. Tsugane left the dining hall with Fred, Kizu went over to where Ogi was standing with Dancer-who'd come in near the end of the press conference-facing the window on the lake side, deep in conversation.
Despite their intense tête-à-tête, Ogi saw Kizu, turned around to him, and said, "Would you talk with Dr. Koga for us? He has a problem the office can't deal with."
Ogi was so tense as he said this it made Kizu turn to look around him.
With a worried look, Dancer glanced up at Kizu but didn't say anything and looked away. As Kizu walked over to where Dr. Koga stood, surrounded by cancer patients, and others who were no doubt family members. Dr. Koga cut off his talk with them and made his way out of the crowd toward him.