The Name

Patience was Riley Gibbon’s strongest virtue; some would say his only one. Twelve years working as a maintenance worker in a data centre in rural Australia eliminated any career ambitions. He wasn’t an adventurous thrill seeker; in all that time, Riley had never travelled outside of his annual trip to Sydney on Christmas to see his mum. He wasn’t the type to revel in change; he never moved house, never so much as changed the daily route he took to work and chose to stay in the same single story bitumen with its aluminium roof that soaked up too much of the hot outback sun.

‘What are you going to do with your life?’ Riley’s younger brother Rob repeated this question to him every Christmas when they gathered at their mum’s stunning harbour side flat. Their father had left them awhile back, just a few months before Riley had dropped out of his last semester at university. With both boys out of the house, their mum had seen no need for the extra upkeep of a large family home, so she’d sold it and bought one-bedroom flat for herself and another for the rental income. She asked nothing of her boys except that they spend each Christmas with her, which they dutifully obliged even after Rob was married with two boys of his own. For years, the six of them had squeezed around the designer coffee table in Christmas cracker hats, flanked by uninterrupted views of Sydney’s most iconic harbour.

Rob was a barrister for New South Wales, one of the youngest to join the bar. As a boy, Rob had looked up to his elder brother with the analytical mind and natural penchant for tech and hardware. Rob remembered the years sitting amongst a tangle of wires and computer parts, a Transformer action figure clutched in his own small hands, watching Riley work on souping up an old processor or salvaging a motherboard from spare parts. He knew his brother was a borderline genius with computers; where he saw nothing but bits of plastic and melted dots, Riley saw routes and shortcuts, points on a map of hidden treasure. He was destined to work for Intel, IBM, ArmH, any of those major technology firms powering the world one silicon chip at a time.

But it didn’t happen.

With less than a semester left in university, Riley had withdrawn from his computer science degree. Their father had just left, but Rob also suspected the cause to be heartbreak over a girl, but his brother didn’t offer an explanation. ‘The system was broken. I didn’t see the point.’

Instead, Riley applied for a job as a maintenance worker at the new state-of-the-art data centres that had just been opened by a mid-level hosting company. Among other claims, the centre boasted a never-before seen 99.99999% uptime rate. Riley relocated to a country town more 200 kms from the nearest capital city. The first week on the job, there was a massive heat wave and the whole data centre suffered a power surge and went offline. Riley and his team managed to restore the systems in just around three hours. No data was lost and the business was saved, sort of; there was a sharp plummet in the company’s stocks and reputation but it somehow survived, and never grew.

And Riley had been there ever since.

‘There’s a plan,’ Riley said when he was scrutinised by his brother each year over his life decisions. His mother asked too, but with much less fervour and without the accusing tone. And despite their best efforts at cajoling him to try a new job, see a woman or even a man, Riley made no changes to his current lifestyle.

‘There’s a plan,’ he insisted.

‘So you gonna let us in on this plan this year? Or more of the same?’ Rob threw his festive napkin onto his mother’s plush rug. It was Christmas again and he’d already had a few drinks but didn’t say no when his mum poured another refill. His own sons weren’t with him today, they were with their mother as per the settlement agreement the lawyers had arranged for alternating holidays.

‘Oh hush you,’ his new fiancé, Mariko chided. She waved off their mum’s offer for a top up, her engagement ring catching the light. ‘Riley, that sounds so lovely. Tell me more about your plans.’

‘He never has anything to say.’ Rob gulped his wine. ‘He’s not going anywhere.’

Riley looked around helplessly, his eyes landing on his own untouched wine glass. He picked it up and sipped slowly, anything to avoid his brother’s accusing gaze. Rob had been his best friend, his confidant when they were growing up, the only person he trusted in the world. As they got older, Rob was busy with girls and his own social life and had no interest in his awkward older brother and his many systems. Riley knew that as the elder, he should have been the one looking out for Rob, teaching him the ins and outs of the world, but he had no idea how to do those things. People made no sense, their speaking chock full of double entendre, red herrings, misdirection and hidden meanings. It was non-sensical, illogical and Riley couldn’t pinpoint where the fault lay in the system.

‘Stop don’t listen to this sour puss.’ Mariko leaned in and batted her eyes, eager to win over this strange man who would soon be her brother-in-law. ‘Tell me about your plan.’

‘Well, ah…’ Riley stared down into his lap, twisting his napkin. ‘Do you know Okinawa?’

‘Of course I do!’ Her whole face lit up as bright as her ring. ‘Oh Okinawa, what a paradise. I went there for a school trip when I was in high school.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes. We had a lovely local guide showing us around. We went to temples and visited the fishing village. The people there have their own unique culture you know, not just Japanese. Gosh, what was his name?’ She furrowed her brow in deep thought and then exclaimed. ‘Satoshi! Satoshi Nakamoto.’

Riley promptly spat out a mouthful of wine and launched into a hacking coughing fit. He fumbled for his water glass and gulped greedily.

‘Satoshi Nakamoto?!’ Rob slapped his thigh under the table. ‘That’s a good one.’

‘Yes, that was the guide’s name.’ Mariko ignored her partner’s eye roll, rather pleased to have recalled this piece of information.

‘Don’t be so daff.’ Rob said and Mariko pouted. ‘Wait, you really don’t know who Satoshi Nakamoto is?’

‘His family were fishermen but he had big dreams of moving away from their tiny village. He became a guide so he could meet more people.’

Rob shook his head. ‘Good thing you’ve got looks, for now,’ he said. Mariko grimaced at his crude remark, but Rob paid no attention and turned to his brother. ‘Tell her, Riley.’

‘Satoshi Nakamoto is the inventor of Bitcoin.’ Riley looked back down in his lap and said no more.

‘The guy’s a genius,’ Rob said. ‘He launched his own money that you don’t even print, mined a whole bunch of it, then made up these crazy rules that would make it harder to make more coin. He preached about decentralisation, mouthed off the banks, and then disappeared! Fell off the grid, never to be heard from again. So while everyone else is doing the work to keep him a trillionaire, he’s on some island somewhere living the good life.’ He picked up the near-empty bottle on the table and poured the last dregs into his glass.

‘That doesn’t sound like the Satoshi I know.’ Mariko frowned. ‘He was a gentle man. A good soul who wouldn’t care about money or getting rich, I know this.’

‘I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,’ Riley said softly. ‘Just someone with the same name.’

‘Yes, that must be it. Nakamoto would be common in Ryukyu and Satoshi, of course is very popular for a boy.’ She had a faraway look in her eyes. ‘I’m so glad I remembered him. Even though he was just a simple guide, I remember really respecting how passionate he was. He had big dreams.’

‘Sounds like you had a thing for him.’ Rob declared loudly, as he reached over for her untouched drink.

‘It wasn’t like that...’ Mariko hesitated. ‘But I did always think that we had mutual appreciation for each other. We spoke so passionately together, well into the night.’

‘That’s disgusting.’ Rob sputters. ‘You were a teenager.’

‘I was sixteen. He wasn’t that old. And he didn’t try anything. He talked about travelling the world, learning about people and their cultures. I just recall we had a deep…affection for each other.’

‘He sounds like…a good man,’ Riley said as his brother went to the kitchen to fetch the other bottle.

--

The next day, Riley was back at his work even though it was a public holiday; servers never take time off and for the most part neither did Riley. He was lying on his back peering up into belly of an uncased machine. It was lying here that he felt calm, centred, in control.

Mariko’s words stayed with him as he worked. The lumpy keychain in his pocket, pressing against his thigh was a reminder of what had prompted his question about Okinawa in the first place. His co-worker, Sasha, had presented the keychain to him as a gift many years ago after returning from an overseas holiday. Though they had worked together for four and a half years, Riley was surprised to receive such a token for they were hardly close. Perhaps everyone in the company had been presented with a small gift but his casual scanning of his colleagues’ personal effects seemed to suggest otherwise. Riley had been personally selected by Sasha.

The keychain itself was quirky and peculiar in a way that Riley appreciated; perhaps this was why he had been chosen as its recipient. A USB stick disguised in a plastic figurine, it looked half lion, half demon with a gaping toothy mouth and a little ukulele gripped in his funny shaped paws. ‘It’s a shisa. It comes from Okinawa,’ Sasha said. Riley thanked him sincerely and carefully tucked the little demon into his shirt pocket so the little head looked like it was peering out. ‘Shisa from Sasha,’ he said quietly. Sasha overheard him and smiled at the joke.

This had been years ago, but for some reason, Riley had brought it up at dinner. It had been his first time meeting his brother’s new fiancé, and he realised now that one of the main reasons he had raised the subject of Okinawa, perhaps the only reason, was because Mariko was Japanese. He was embarrassed now by this clear faux pas, but he was also more than a little curious about her subsequent revelations and their discussions. An idea planted itself into his mind and as he carefully inserted a stick of memory into its prescribed slot, a decision clicked firmly into place.

‘I’ll go to Japan.’

--

Riley stared at the crudely drawn map in his hand, sweat trickling down the rivet of his back. The man at the tiny diner had drawn it for him, carefully marking the streets with a small ‘x’ where he was not supposed to turn. There were five x’s, evenly spaced and Riley had already passed the five streets they corresponded to in real life, which meant he was to turn right up ahead. The sun beat down and his phone said it was a balmy 31C without a cloud in the sky, the perfect Okinawan beach day.

Riley spotted the crosswalk ahead of him. Once he turned, according to the map, in 200 metres on his right, he would find a laneway and a small stationery shop. There, he would ask for its proprietor whom Riley hoped would be the man of interest, his primary reason for coming to Japan.

Riley was looking for Satoshi Nakamoto.

A few days before his trip, Riley had told Mariko of his plan. ‘I’m going to look for him in Okinawa.’

She fell silent for a long while. Riley had been unsure of how to respond, whether she had mistook his comment as having to do with intentions for her, but after a long while, he realised Mariko was softly crying.

‘That would be wonderful. He is a good man to know.’

Mariko then told him everything she could remember about Satoshi. His age and build, ‘he must be in his fifties now.’ She told him about the local tour company he worked for. ‘Aeon tours. Before the name was popular for the English school.’ And that he had a passion for books and papers. ‘I was certain he should be a writer, a poet no less.’ Mariko remembered so many careful details that Riley was certain he would be able to spot the man if he encountered him on the street.

‘Have you ever tried to get in touch?’ he asked at one point. ‘On Facebook or MSN or something?’

‘You know, I haven’t,’ she said softly. ‘I’m sure he would not remember me. I was just a silly girl on a school trip. How many girls would he have spoken to in his time? How many could he have affected so with his existence?’

This was the exact question in Riley’s mind and why he needed to find this man.

‘Riley,’ Mariko was shy as they were about to hang up. ‘When you find him, will you ask about me?’

He had promised he would.

Now, he felt the burden of that promise that he might not keep as he approached the shop. Riley was not a people person; he was quiet and reserved in most social situations and at his best moments could elevate his engagement levels to awkward earnestness. And now he had flown half-way around the world to introduce himself to a complete stranger, this was very much out of his comfort zone.

He ducked under the privacy curtain and slid open the door to the tiny shop. Another customer brushed past as he left. Riley almost followed him out, abandoned the whole ill-conceived affair.

But he didn’t. Instead, he took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms and stepped inside.

The shop was small but tidy and well kept. The counter was unmanned. Riley noted that the neat rows of supplies had been carefully thought out to make use of the limited space. Stacks of cardboard boxes were pushed up against the wall and the items for purchase were arranged in neat trays and clear cabinets for easy perusal. A brimming display of colourful pens caught Riley’s attention and he went over. He eyed the many rows of markings and scribbles on the test papers. Tiny dots, idle strokes and colourful whorls of varying thicknesses and dimensions. Riley was tempted to pick up pen and try it out but then wondered if it was wasteful to use ink from a pen he had no intention of buying.

Sounds came from the back of the store and Riley looked up in time to see a man emerging from a storeroom. He was tall with thick grey hair, glasses perched on the shiny front of his forehead. His demeanour was calm and footsteps gentle. Based on the description he had been turning over in his mind, there was no question about it. He knew who this was.

‘Satoshi Nakamoto.’

The man lifted his head.

In the tiny space, there was no way to hide the fact that he had spoken aloud. He had been too caught up in his observations, the mental image of this man now fully realised in real life. The man, who was unquestioningly Satoshi Nakamoto, peered at Riley standing by the display of pens. His expression was puzzled at first then slightly panicked. Riley realised how off putting it would be to find a man, a foreign man at that, lurking in his store who knew his name. He rushed forward but that only seemed to alarm Satoshi further so he stayed stock still.

‘Um hello. Hi there. Are you Satoshi Nakamoto?’ Riley asked and then wondered if there could be a language barrier. Mariko hadn’t mentioned if Satoshi could speak English and given her near perfect pronunciation, he had simply assumed that he would be the same. But this past week had shown him how very flawed this assumption was, but he hadn’t really considered how he might overcome it. The Japanese he had developed was limited to two simple phrases: ‘Sumimasen’ and ‘arigato’. Please and thank you.

Fortunately, after a beat, the man replied in careful and clear English. ‘Yes. I am he.’

Riley breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Um. I’m a friend of a friend. And the man at the diner up the road said I could find you here. You used to be a guide for Aeon Tours for the schools.’

At the mention of his past employment, Satoshi’s stance relaxed slightly. ‘Yes, that was me. Many many lifetimes ago.’ He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes crinkling to show the lines of age.

Riley stepped forward. ‘I’m Riley, from Australia.’ He had discovered on this trip that explaining his country of origin helped answer Japanese curiosities that they were often too polite to ask.

‘Nice to meet you.’ He spoke now with hospitality politeness. ‘You visiting Okinawa?’

Riley nodded. ‘First time in Japan. I got to the island two days ago.’

‘I see. A good place for holiday.’

‘Yes. The weather is beautiful.’

Both men cast their eyes to the floor, shifting their weight. The awkwardness of their stilted exchange hung between them, waiting to be cracked.

Riley sucked in a breath. ‘I…I came to see you actually,’ he said at last.

‘Ay. I thought as much.’ This caught Riley by surprise but then he thought, of course. This was a man whose name was a legend, a man of modern infamy.

‘You are not the first to look Satoshi Nakamoto,’ Satoshi affirmed. ‘But not too many of his fans have come from Australia.’ He set his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He spent a moment studying Riley, his eyes seeing but not revealing how his mind was interpreting what he saw. Finally, he stepped back and shook his head.

‘I am not the Satoshi Nakamoto that you seek, I’m sorry.’

Riley was quiet then said, ‘I know you’re not him.’

At this declaration, Satoshi seemed surprised. He stared at Riley again, both men silent again, watching and reading the smallest twitch of the other’s face, their minds racing to piece together what was laid out before them.

‘You’re very certain,’ Satoshi said. ‘You knew before you came. Then why come at all?’

‘I needed to meet the man with the name. To see the face of such a man and what he carries with it by having that name.’

Satoshi cocked his head to the side. ‘And what do you think?’

He smiled. ‘You have a good face.’ This made Satoshi laugh.

‘The name, it’s not uncommon, you know. I’m sure you will find another Satoshi Nakamoto in Okinawa.’

Riley reached into his pocket. ‘You are enough.’ He put something on the counter between them. The shiba figurine that his co-worker Sasha had given him so many years ago.

‘For you.’ Riley said with a nod and small bow. ‘Satoshi.’ He left the store then and there, worried that he might change his mind.

Satoshi picked up the keychain on the counter and uncapped the head of the demon to reveal the USB underneath. ‘Riley. From Australia,’ he said to himself. ‘Satoshi Nakamoto in all but name.’