I'm worried about the boy.  I remember when I was in Japan - after the war.
Picking-up bodies at Hiroshima.  Little charcoal boxers.  Called it
"Jap Barbeque Take-out" in the quaint vernacular of the day. Much like
today...the smell of burning meat, fingers held as candles, offerings at a
shrine.  Maybe  you can help me find him, tell him that a dam is gonna
burst ... and no amount of ash fingers will stop it - ash fingers won't work
any more - go to that big outlet store and tell him will ya?...Al