Before the Coffee Gets Cold

by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

  She felt utterly rattled. Nothing was making sense.

  ‘Oh, was it your plan to meet Nagare?’

  Unaware of Kei’s mission, the man had guessed wrongly, but she had lost the will to answer. It was all futile. She was never very good at thinking about things rationally; she always made her decisions in life guided by intuition. So when faced with a situation like this, she was at a loss to understand what was going on, or how it could have happened. She had thought that if she could go to the future, she could meet her child. As her mood began to sink, the man asked, ‘Then, you came to meet Kazu?’

  ‘Aha!’ Kei shouted, suddenly seeing new hope.

  How could she have forgotten! She had focused on asking the man about the manager, but she had forgotten something important: it was Kazu who had encouraged her to go to the future; it was she who had made the promise. It didn’t matter if Nagare was in Hokkaido. As long as Kazu was here, there was no problem. Kei tried to contain her surging excitement.

  ‘What about Kazu?’ she quickly asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Kazu! Is Kazu here?’

  If the man had been standing any closer, Kei probably would have grabbed him by his shirt front.

  Her intensity compelled him to take a couple of steps back.

  ‘Is she here or not?’

  ‘Um, look . . .’ The man averted his gaze, overwhelmed by Kei’s quick-fire questioning.

  ‘The truth is . . . Kazu is in Hokkaido as well,’ the man replied carefully.

  That’s it then . . . The man’s reply had completely dashed her hopes.

  ‘Oh no, not even Kazu is here?’

  He looked with concern at Kei. She looked as if her spirit had been totally sapped from her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  Kei looked up at the man with a look that said, ‘Isn’t it perfectly obvious?’ but he had no idea about her situation, and so there was nothing she could say.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine . . .’ she said dejectedly.

  The man tilted his head in confusion and walked back behind the counter.

  Kei began rubbing her stomach.

  I don’t know why, but if those two are in Hokkaido, then this child must be with them there too . . . It doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.

  She dropped her shoulders, slumping despondently. It was always going to be a gamble. If luck was on her side, they would meet. Kei had known that. If meeting people in the future was so easy, then more people would be trying it.

  For example, if Fumiko Kiyokawa and Goro had promised to meet at the cafe in three years’ time, then of course, it was possible they would meet. But for this to happen, Goro would have to keep his promise to come. There were many reasons for being unable to keep such a promise. He could try to drive but get stuck in traffic, or he could decide to walk but get diverted by roadworks. He might get stopped and asked for directions, or lose his way. There might even be a sudden torrential downpour or a natural disaster. He might sleep in or simply mix up the time they were due to meet. In other words, the future is uncertain.

  With this in mind, whatever the reason for Nagare and Kazu being in Hokkaido, it fell within the range of things that can happen. Hokkaido was a thousand kilometres away and it was a shock to hear they had gone so far. But even if they’d only been one train stop away, they would still have been unable to get back to the cafe before the coffee went cold.

  Suppose when she returned to the present, she conveyed this turn of events, it would not change the fact that they were in Hokkaido – Kei knew the rule. Her luck had run out. It was as simple as that. After thinking things over, she began to feel more collected. She picked up the cup and took a sip. The coffee was still pretty warm. She could switch moods quickly: another one of her talents for living happily. Her ups and downs could be extreme, but they never lingered. It was a shame that she couldn’t meet her child, but she had no regrets. She had followed her wishes and had managed to travel to the future. She wasn’t cross with Kazu or Nagare either. They surely had a good reason. It was inconceivable that they wouldn’t have done their best to be there to meet her.

  For me, the promise was made just a few minutes ago. Here, it is ten years later. Oh well . . . it can’t be helped. When I go back, I may as well say that we met . . .

  Kei reached out for the sugar pot sitting on the table.

  CLANG-DONG

  Just as she was planning to add sugar to her coffee, the bell rang, and out of habit, she was about to yell, ‘Hello, welcome!’ when the man said it before her.

  Kei bit her lip and looked over to the entrance.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ the man called.

  ‘Hi, I’m back,’ said a girl who looked like she might be in junior high school, fourteen or fifteen years old. She was wearing summer clothes: a sleeveless white shirt with cropped denim trousers and cord sandals. Her hair was neatly done up in a ponytail fastened with a red hairclip.

  Oh . . . the girl from the other day.

  Kei recognized her as soon as she saw her face. It was the girl who had come from the future and asked to have their photo taken together. She was wearing winter clothes at the time, and had her hair cut short, so she looked a little different. But Kei remembered how she had been struck by those big sweet eyes.

  So this is where we meet.

  Kei nodded in understanding, and folded her arms. On that occasion, she had thought it weird to have a visitor she didn’t recognize, but now it made sense.

  ‘We had a photo taken together, didn’t we?’ she said to the girl.

  But the girl’s face showed a puzzled expression.

  ‘I’m sorry, what are you talking about?’ she asked tentatively.

  Kei realized her error.

  Oh, I see . . .

  The girl must come after this meeting. Her question obviously wouldn’t make any sense in that case.

  ‘Oh, forget I said that, it’s nothing,’ she said smiling to the girl. But the girl seemed unnerved. She gave a polite little nod and disappeared into the back room.

  Well, that makes me feel better.

  Kei felt much happier now. She had come to the future only to find Kazu and Nagare gone and in their place a man she didn’t recognize. She had begun to feel depressed at the prospect of returning home with nothing having turned out as she’d imagined. But that all changed when the girl appeared.

  She touched her cup to check that it was still warm.

  We must become friends before this coffee cools.

  Thinking this, a heartening feeling of elation filled her chest – an encounter between people ten years apart.

  The girl came back into the cafe.

  Oh . . .

  She was holding a wine-red apron.

  That’s the apron I used!

  Kei hadn’t forgotten her original aim. But she wasn’t the type to stew over things that weren’t going to happen. She altered her plan: she would befriend this interesting girl. The man peered out from the kitchen and glanced at the girl with the apron.

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to help out today. After all . . . There’s just that one customer.’

  But the girl gave no reply and stood behind the counter.

  The man didn’t seem intent on pressing the issue and withdrew into the kitchen. The girl began to wipe the counter.

  Hey! Look this way!

  Kei was desperately trying to attract the girl’s attention by rocking her body left and right, but the girl didn’t look up at her once. This did not douse Kei’s enthusiasm.

  If she is helping here, perhaps that means she is the manager’s daughter?

  Kei considered such possibilities.

  Beep-boop beep-boop . . . Beep-boop beep-boop

  The disruptive sound of a phone ringing could be heard from the back room.

  ‘I’ve . . .’ Kei suddenly fought the hard-wired response to answer the phone. It may have been ten years later but the sound of a phone was unchanged.

  Oh . .
. Be careful . . . That was close . . .

  She almost broke the rule and left the seat. She was able to leave the seat but if so would have been forcefully returned to the present.

  The man came out from the kitchen calling, ‘I’ve got it,’ and went into the back room to answer the phone. Kei made an exaggerated gesture of wiping her brow and gave a sigh of relief. She heard the man talking.

  ‘Yes, hello? Oh hi! Yes, she is . . . Oh, right. OK, hang on. I’ll get her . . .’

  The man suddenly came out from the back room.

  Hmm?

  The man brought the phone to Kei.

  ‘Phone,’ he said as he handed Kei the handset.

  ‘For me?’

  ‘It’s Nagare.’

  On hearing Nagare’s name, she promptly took the phone.

  ‘Hello! Why are you in Hokkaido? Can you explain to me what’s going on?’ she said, in a voice loud enough to resound throughout the cafe.

  The man, still not grasping the situation, tilted his head in confusion and returned to the kitchen.

  The girl showed no response, as if she was oblivious to Kei’s loud voice. She simply continued doing what she was doing.

  ‘What’s that? There’s no time? I’m the one with no time!’ Even as she was talking the coffee was cooling. ‘I can hardly hear you! What?’ She was holding the handset to her left ear while plugging her right ear with her other hand. For some reason, there was a terrible racket in the background on the other end of the line which made it difficult to hear anything.

  ‘What? A schoolgirl?’ She continued to get Nagare to repeat what he was saying. ‘Yes, she’s here. The one who visited the cafe about two weeks ago; she came from the future to get a photo with me. Yes, yes. What about her?’ she asked looking at the girl, who, while averting her gaze, had stopped what she was doing.

  I wonder why she looks so nervous? Kei thought as the conversation continued. It was bothering her, but she had to focus on listening to the important information Nagare was giving her.

  ‘Like I told you, I can hardly hear what you’re saying. Eh? What? That girl?’

  Our daughter.

  Just at that moment, the middle wall clock began to chime, dong, dong . . . ten times.

  It was then that Kei first realized what the time was. The time she had arrived at in the future was not three in the afternoon. It was ten in the morning. The smile fell from her face.

  ‘Oh, OK. Right,’ she replied in a weak voice. She hung up and placed the handset on the table.

  She had been looking forward to speaking to the girl. But now her expression was pale and drawn, without any remnants of that bright expectant look that existed just moments before. The girl had stopped what she was doing and also looked completely spooked. Kei slowly reached out and held the cup to check the temperature of the coffee. It was still warm. There was time left before it was completely cold.

  She turned and looked at the girl again.

  My child . . .

  The realization that she was now face to face with her child hit her suddenly. The static had made the phone call difficult to hear but she had got the gist of it.

  You planned to travel ten years into the future, but there was some kind of mistake and you travelled fifteen years. It seems ten years 15.00 and fifteen years 10.00 were mixed up. We heard about it when you returned from the future but right now, we are in Hokkaido for unavoidable reasons that I won’t go into because there’s no time. The girl you see before you is our daughter. You don’t have much time left, so just have a good look at our all-grown-up, fit-and-well daughter and go home.

  After having said all that, Nagare must have been worried about the time Kei had left, and he simply hung up on her. Having learned that the girl in front of her was her daughter, Kei suddenly had no idea how to talk to her.

  More than confusion and panic, she felt a strong sense of regret.

  What she regretted was pretty simple. She was in no doubt that the girl knew she was her mother. But Kei had assumed the girl was someone else’s daughter – the age difference had been too big. Although she didn’t pay any attention to it until now, Kei suddenly heard the sound of the ticking hands of the wall clocks. They seemed to be saying, ‘Tick-tock tick-tock, the coffee is going cold!’ There was indeed no time.

  But Kei saw in the girl’s sullen expression an answer to the question she wanted to ask but hadn’t managed to: Can you forgive me that all I could do was to bring you into this world? and it cast a shadow over her heart. She struggled to think what to say.

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

  But without responding to the simple question, the girl bowed her head in silence.

  Kei interpreted this as further proof that she blamed her. Unable to bear the silence, she also bowed her head. Then . . .

  ‘Miki . . .’ The girl offered her name in a small, sad, and weak-sounding voice.

  Kei wanted to ask so much. But from hearing how faint Miki’s voice was, she got the impression that she was reluctant to speak to her.

  ‘Miki, oh, that’s nice . . .’ was all she managed in response.

  Miki said nothing. Instead, she looked at Kei as if she didn’t like her reaction and rushed towards the back room. At that moment, the man poked his head out from the kitchen.

  ‘Miki, are you OK?’ he called, but Miki ignored him and vanished into the back room.

  CLANG-DONG

  ‘Hello, welcome!’

  A woman entered the cafe just as the man offered his greeting. She was wearing a short-sleeved white blouse, black trousers, and a wine-red apron. She must have been running in the hot sun as she was out of breath and sweating profusely.

  ‘Ah!’ Kei recognized her. Or at least, she was still recognizable.

  Looking at the panting woman, though, Kei got a real sense that fifteen years had passed. It was Fumiko Kiyokawa, the woman who just earlier that day had asked Kei if she was OK. Fumiko had had a slim build then but now she was quite round.

  Fumiko noticed that Miki wasn’t there. ‘Where is Miki?’ she asked the man.

  She must have known that Kei was going to come at this time today. She had that sense of urgency. The man was obviously flustered by her tone.

  ‘In the back,’ he answered. He still didn’t understand what was going on.

  ‘Why?’ she asked as she slapped her hand on the counter.

  ‘What?’ he said unapologetically. He started rubbing the scar above his right eyebrow, confused as to why he was being blamed.

  ‘I don’t believe this,’ she sighed, glaring at the man. But she didn’t want to waste time on accusations. She was already at fault for being late for such an important event.

  ‘So you’re looking after the cafe?’ Kei asked in a weak voice.

  ‘Uh, yeah,’ Fumiko answered, looking directly at her. ‘Did you talk to Miki?’

  It was a straightforward enough question that Kei felt uncomfortable answering. She just looked down.

  ‘Did you have a proper talk?’ Fumiko pressed.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know . . .’ Kei mumbled.

  ‘I’ll go and call her.’

  ‘No, it’s OK!’ Kei said more clearly, halting Fumiko, who was already making her way to the back room.

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘It’s enough,’ Kei said with a struggle. ‘We saw each other’s faces.’

  ‘Oh, come on.’

  ‘She didn’t seem like she wanted to meet . . .’

  ‘Oh, she does so!’ Fumiko said, contradicting Kei. ‘Miki has really wanted to meet you. She has been looking forward to this day for so long . . .’

  ‘I just think I must have caused her so much sadness.’

  ‘Of course there have been times when she’s been down.’

  ‘I thought as much . . .’

  Kei reached out for the coffee cup. Fumiko saw her doing it.

  ‘So you’re just going to go back and leave things as they are?’ she said, realizing sh
e was failing to convince her to stay.

  ‘Could you just tell her that I said I’m sorry . . .’

  At Kei’s words Fumiko’s expression turned suddenly grim. ‘But that’s . . . but I don’t think you mean that. Do you regret giving birth to Miki? Can’t you see that saying sorry can only mean that it was your mistake to have her?’

  I haven’t given birth to her yet. I haven’t. But I have no second thoughts about my decision to do so.

  On seeing Kei clearly shake her head in response, Fumiko said, ‘Let me call Miki.’

  Kei couldn’t reply.

  ‘I’ll go and get her.’

  Fumiko didn’t wait for Kei to reply. She simply disappeared into the back room, well aware that time was of the essence.

  ‘Hey, Fumiko,’ said the man as he followed her into the back room.

  Oh, what am I to do?

  Left alone in the cafe, Kei stared at the coffee in front of her.

  Fumiko is right. But that just seems to make it more difficult to know what to say.

  Then Miki appeared; Fumiko had her hands on her shoulders.

  Rather than at Kei, Miki’s eyes were directed at the floor.

  ‘Come on, sweetie, don’t waste this moment,’ Fumiko said.

  Miki . . .

  Kei meant to speak her name out loud, but no voice came.

  ‘OK then,’ Fumiko said, lifting her hands from Miki’s shoulders. She looked quickly at Kei and then retreated to the back room.

  Even after Fumiko had gone, Miki continued to look down at the floor in silence.

  I’m going to have to say something . . .

  Kei removed her hand from the cup and took a breath. ‘So. Are you well?’ she asked.

  Miki lifted her head a little and looked at Kei. ‘Yes,’ she said in a quiet, tentative voice.

  ‘You help out here?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Miki’s answers were blunt and monosyllabic. Kei was finding it difficult to continue talking.

  ‘Both Nagare and Kazu are in Hokkaido?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Miki continued to avoid looking at Kei’s face. Each time she answered, she spoke a little more softly. There didn’t seem to be much she wanted to talk about.

  Without giving it much thought, Kei asked, ‘Why did you stay here?’