Title: Ten Yen Forever
Author: Amanda Armstrong
ISBN: 978-1-62420-189-9
Genre: Spiritual Thriller
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4
As an old monk comes to the
end of his life, Amida bestows one final task upon him.
Too weak to perform this
himself, the monk enlists the help of his little apprentice, Akira, passing
four miraculous ten yen coins on to him. Though confused and uncertain of what
he must do, this task takes Akira across the Pacific to help those that need
saving and those that didn't even know they needed saving. As dark forces
threaten them, Holly, Paul and Tommy must once again trust in the miracle of
the ten yen coins. This is the sequel to Ten Yen True where the monk brings
healing to westerners he has never met.
EXCERPT
He stopped by the Uji River,
gazing out at the little fishing boats bobbing gently atop the water. The sky,
so recently filled with dark storms was now clear and calm and the light from
the full moon created silver ripples in the water and shone off the nets cast
out. He saw the distant figures of fishermen hauling their catch in.
He felt inside his jeans,
carefully taking out the money that he began to count with shaking hands. He
felt shame he had taken a stash of money from the old monk's wardrobe, but he
assured himself it was the right thing to do if he were to help his friend and
mentor.
"Anata wa otokonoko
nē!" Hey, you boy! The sudden shout from the river made him jump. He
gasped, his heart in his chest, preparing to run.
"Matsu!" Wait! A
slight figure waved from a fishing boat.
The young boy stuffed the
money back inside his pocket and began to run. A quick look over his shoulder
confirmed the man had given chase and was climbing the banks. The boy picked up
his pace, panting for breath as adrenalin and fear surged through his body. I
must get away! Determination made him run faster still. If I'm caught, I'll
surely be taken back to the temple, they'll find out I took the money and send
me to prison! And without me, my master will die!
As his mind raced, he failed
to notice the little tree stump in his path and he fell to the ground
awkwardly, his heart sinking and tears stinging his eyes.
He looked up at the man
approaching him who was heavily gasping for breath.
"Anata wa bujidesu
ka?" Are you ok? The man wheezed, his hands on his knees as he tried to
regain his breath.
The boy sat up, hanging his
head between his knees and began to cry, desperation weighting his body, yet
strangely, no more fear.
"Chotto, sore wa
daijōbuda, nakanaide." Hey, it's ok, don't cry. The man crouched down
beside him and gently patted his shoulder. "My name is Haruo."
Sudden warmth crept through
the boy's body as if just this human touch had ignited his heart. He wiped his
face with the sleeve of his jacket and tentatively turned his face toward the
man, blinking in the darkness. The crinkly eyes and wizened face that smiled
reassuringly at him reminded him of his master, albeit a younger version, and
the boy felt relief flood through his body -- a feeling of safety suddenly
overcame him.
"Why are you out so
late?" the man asked.
The boy, suddenly realizing
his task and the essence of time, began to cry again.
"Come." The man
pulled him to his feet and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders.
The boy shrugged him away.
"No, there is no time!" he shouted.
Confused, the man raised his
eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.
The young boy realized he
might as well tell this man. After all, he may be able to help him; if not, he
was going to take him back to the temple anyway. What had he to lose?
He began telling him the
story from the beginning. Of how the old monk had saved him from the Tsunami.
How he had waded out to him and dragged the door with him clinging on top into
the shore…
He took me back to the Temple
in Uji, clothed me, fed me and healed my physical wounds. He tried to comfort
me through my grief at the loss of my family, but I was angry and, I feel, so
was he. He taught me meditation, explained that whilst I may never understand,
I should try and accept.
Each day we would go together
to the Ajiike pond and meditate. Eventually a sort of peace did settle within
me. My master then told me to pray to Amida for my family, gone, but not
forgotten and for the other poor souls, dead and living after this awful
disaster.
"And now my master is
dying!" The boy looked up at the man, anguish in his eyes.
"But he is an old
man," the man explained gently. "It is his time."
"No, no! You don't
understand!" The boy was agitated now, scrabbling in his pockets for the
coins. "He gave me these coins. They are special."
