“You’re good with animals, aren’t you?” Mrs. Kojima said. She led me in while Tama followed behind us.
In the living room, Chie and Sachiko sat next to each other on a white sofa. Sachiko’s eyes were swollen. I nodded at them and they responded in kind.
“Please, take a seat,” Mrs. Kojima told me before excusing herself to retrieve the letter from her room.
I settled myself on the sofa across from the girls, a low square table separating us. I looked around, wondering where Mr. Sumida and Miwako’s stepbrother were.
On my right, an old photograph stood atop a wooden cabinet. The photos showed a younger Miwako with her mother and a man, wearing the glasses I knew so well. I swallowed, barely able to breathe.
Tama came and curled up near my feet. Her warm belly calmed my nerves. I stroked her again on the head and then on her neck, comforted by her presence.
Mrs. Kojima returned with a white envelope.
“Miwako left me this letter,” Mrs. Kojima said, opening it. “I’ll read it to you all.”
Dear Mother,
By the time you read this, I will be in a better place.
Forgive me for leaving so early. This has nothing to do with you. It was a decision I made myself. This is what I want. There is no one to blame.
If a reason is needed, then this is what I can say: I’m tired. So, so tired.
I hope you’ll understand, and that you’ll let me go.
Please live well and be happy—for yourself, and also for me.
Miwako
P.S. I know I have no right to ask any favors of you, but I hope you’ll carry out these final wishes:
1. I’d like to donate all my personal belongings to charity, except for my romance novel collection. I want to give that to my friends, Chie Ohno and Sachiko Hayami.
2. I’ve been keeping a female calico cat. She ran away recently, but she might come back soon. I’ve attached a photograph so you’ll recognize her. She has a red collar with a silver bell. I know you’re allergic to cats, but if she returns, would you give her some food and keep her for a while? I want my friend, Ryusei Yanagi, to choose a home for her. I’ve enclosed a letter for him.
By the time Mrs. Kojima finished reading the letter, her eyes were red. Chie and Sachiko were crying too, and I felt like I was suffocating.
Wiping away her tears, Mrs. Kojima asked Chie and Sachiko, “Will you accept her books?”
Chie nodded. “Of course. I promise I’ll treasure them.”
Sachiko tried to answer, but no sound came out. She just kept nodding.
Mrs. Kojima turned to me and passed me a letter. “This is for you, Yanagi.”
When I took the letter from her, a photo of Tama slipped out.
I was the one who had taken that photograph.
Sometime last year, my sister had needed to document some of her paintings. I was resting in my room when she came in and told me what to do.
“Just take a snapshot of all the paintings you can find in the studio.” She handed me a Nikon FM2. “It doesn’t need to be fancy, but make sure you capture every single piece of artwork. Ask Miwako to help.”
“What do you need these for?”
“An exhibition,” she said. “The organizer requested photographs for the catalog.”
I sat down and checked the camera. The film chamber was empty. “You don’t usually do exhibitions.”
“Yes, but this one’s a little different. A lot of business owners go to that gallery to buy art pieces for their offices.”
“Ah, there’s potential money. No wonder Miss Yanagi is interested.”
“Yes, so you’d better do this properly. I need the photographs by the weekend.”
The next day, I bought three rolls of film and asked Miwako to help me. We spent half the day photographing my sister’s paintings. By the time we were done, we had only used half of the last roll. I discreetly pointed the camera at Miwako, hoping to sneak a photo, but she noticed.
“Stop that,” she said, glaring at me. “I don’t like being photographed.”
“Come on, don’t let the rest of the film go to waste,” I pleaded. “We still have a bunch of shots left, but I need to get the negatives developed today.”
Her eyes lit up. “In that case, why don’t you take some pictures of Tama? She’s growing so fast. Soon, she’ll be a fully grown cat, and I won’t have anything to remember her adorable kitten days.”
“You make it sound like Tama is your child.”
“She is my child,” Miwako said. “And if she ever goes missing, we can use the photograph for a missing cat poster.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. How would she go missing? She’s in your apartment all the time.” I got up and packed the camera into its bag. “But sure, let’s do that. We can go to your place and take Tama’s portrait.”
What I’d said offhand turned out to be a difficult task. Tama wouldn’t sit still. She hated the camera. Miwako and I tried everything from treats and toys to making childish noises. Somehow, the cat always managed to dodge the camera.
After a few hours of trying in vain, both of us collapsed on the bed. The whole apartment was in chaos, pillows and blankets strewn all over the floor.
“I don’t think I could be a pet photographer,” I said, catching my breath.
“Me neither,” Miwako said. “Or maybe Tama isn’t cut out to be a model.”
I laughed. “That’s another possibility.”
Miwako rolled over and turned to Tama, who sat on her dressing table. “What do you think, Tama? We don’t think you have what it takes to be a supermodel.”
Tama purred. For once, she sat still and looked in my direction. I crawled out of the bed and reached for the camera on the floor.
“What are you doing?” Miwako asked.
“Shh,” I hissed. “Don’t make any noise.”
Holding my breath, I aimed at Tama and clicked the shutter. It was only a split second, but I knew I’d managed to capture the shot. Tama immediately jumped off the table and ran to the living room.
“Did you get it?” Miwako asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m pretty sure.”
“Let me develop the film.” She took the camera. “Tell Fumi-nee I’ll give her the printed photographs this coming Sunday afternoon.”
“That’s not too much trouble for you?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
In the end, Miwako told me the photograph never materialized. She said Tama’s full body wasn’t in any of the frames.
“I’m pretty sure I got her in my last shot,” I said. “Are you sure you checked the negatives properly?”
She nodded. “I guess you’ve got a little too much confidence in yourself.”
But now, picking up the fallen photograph, I knew it was the one I had taken of Tama that day. Why had Miwako lied about such a thing?
I stared at the folded letter in my hand, wondering if she had left me any answers.
7
The
Summer
Had
Forever
Left Her
“Ryusei Yanagi,” my sister said, voice raised. “What on earth is that?”
“It’s a cat,” I said, putting the crate down and opening its door. “Tama, go greet Miss Yanagi.”
Tama leaped out and went to my sister.
“I’m not blind. But why is she here?” Despite her harsh words, Fumi-nee kneeled and stroked Tama lovingly.
“She has nowhere else to go. Can’t she live with us for a while?”
“I thought you said Miwako’s family was taking care of her.”
“That’s no good. Her mother’s allergic to cats.” I crouched down. “Besides, I’m sure she prefers it here.”
Tama curled up on my sister’s lap.
“See? Look how comfortable she is,” I said.
My sister shook her head. “You know pets aren’t allowed in this building. The landlady lives on our floor. She’ll definitely find out.”
“What about the studio?” I took out Tama’s bowl and a can of cat food from my bag. “It shouldn’t be a problem for us to keep her there.”
“The studio has a lot of openings. What if she escapes?”
“Don’t worry. If Tama wants to leave, she’ll get out no matter where you put her,” I said. “Anyway, she’s a smart cat. Even when she’s been gone for a while, she always finds her way home.”
I peeled open the lid on the can and emptied it into the bowl. Tama finally left Fumi-nee’s lap and came to me.
“She looks hungry,” my sister said.
“Miwako’s mother didn’t know what brand Tama normally ate, so she bought random cat food. Tama wouldn’t touch it.”
“Picky girl. Just like me.” Fumi-nee stared at Tama, deep in thought.
I tilted my head. “So?”
After a long silence, my sister asked, “You promise to be responsible for her? Buy all her food and clean up after her?”
“Yes, I promise. We can put your paintings inside the office and lock the door, just to make sure Tama doesn’t ruin any of them.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said. “All right, I’ll let Tama stay in the studio temporarily. But if she misbehaves, or you don’t keep your word, she has to leave.”
“Deal.”
“But how long are you planning to keep Tama there?”
Pausing, I remembered Miwako’s letter. “Until I decide who should keep her.”
My sister raised her brow. “What do you mean?”
I took a letter from my bag and handed it to her. “Miwako left me this.”
She looked at me. “Do you want me to read it?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Dear Ryusei,
I’m sorry to ask you for help, but you’re the only one I can trust to do this.
It’s about Tama. She’s still missing. When she returns, please help her find a new home with someone who will cherish her even more than I do.
Goodbye, and take care.
Miwako
My sister looked up. “Tama went missing?”
“She did,” I said, trying to remember when. It had been a few weeks before Miwako left Tokyo.
That night, Miwako had turned up at the studio. My sister had gone to meet one of her clients, so I was the only one there. I hadn’t expected anyone, but what surprised me more than Miwako’s unannounced visit was her appearance. Her hair was in disarray, and she was wearing a pair of house slippers.
“Tama’s missing,” she said, her voice small. “She was still around when I left my apartment. But when I came back, she was gone. I don’t know what to do.”
I paused, taking in the news. “Why don’t you come in?”
Guiding her inside, I pulled a plastic chair out for her. Miwako sat, trembling. I went into the office to get her a cup of warm water. She took it but just held it in her hands.
“Are you all right?” I asked, crouching down in front of her.
Miwako looked at me. After a long moment, she mumbled, “Yes.”
I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “Do you want to tell me exactly what happened?”
She bit her lip. “I left after feeding Tama in the morning. She was asleep on my bed. But when I came home, I couldn’t find her anywhere.”
“Did you lock the door?”
“I did.”
“Was it unlocked when you got back? Do you think someone could’ve broken in?”
She shook her head. “No, it was still locked.”
“Are you sure Tama didn’t slip out when you were leaving the house?”
Miwako frowned. “I would have realized something like that, don’t you think?”
“Well, it’s one possible explanation,” I said. “Could she have escaped through the window?”
“I keep all the windows closed whenever I leave the house.”
I nodded slowly. “Have you been searching for her?”
“Yes, I went around the neighborhood. I even brought out her food bowl.”
I sighed. “Do you want to go look for her together?”
She quickly nodded.
Getting up, I offered her my hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Any idea where she might’ve gone?”
“She’s never left my apartment. Not since I first brought her in.”
I looked at her house slippers. They were stained with mud.
“Do you want to go back to your apartment and change into proper shoes first?”
She looked down, but the question didn’t seem to affect her. “I’m okay. Let’s look for Tama first. What if she got hit by a car or attacked by a dog?”
I forced a smile. “You worry too much. Tama probably just followed some handsome male cat home.”
Miwako was silent. Taking her hand, I led her toward her apartment. I discreetly scanned our surroundings for Tama, but the cat was nowhere. In the distance, I heard thunder rumble.
“We should stop by your apartment first for an umbrella,” I said.
“Is it going to rain?” She looked completely disoriented now. “What if Tama gets caught in the storm? And it’s so late. She must be starving.”
“Miwako, listen,” I told her sternly. “You want to find Tama, don’t you? Panicking won’t help. You need to get ahold of yourself.”
She looked like she was about to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”
“So am I. But we need to stay calm so we can think properly.”
Cold droplets fell onto my arms.
“Let’s go,” I said. “We need to find shelter.”
Still pulling her along by the hand, I headed toward a nearby park, remembering a shelter not far from the entrance. But by the time we reached it, our clothes were already wet. The drizzle had become a downpour in only seconds. We sat down on a stone bench.
I turned to Miwako. “Are you okay? You look cold.”
She didn’t respond.
“Let’s wait here until the rain stops.”
She stared out at the rain, dazed.
“Miwako,” I said sternly. “Are you all right?”
This time, she stood. “I’m going to go look for Tama in the alley where we first found her.”
I looked at her, disheveled and soaking wet. “Do you really need to do that right now? It’s pouring. If we just wait for—”
“I know, but . . .”
I sighed. “You wait here. I’ll go check.”
“But Ryu—”
I ran straight out into the terrible weather. Sprinting toward Miwako’s apartment, I shouted Tama’s name.
“Tama! Tama! Where are you?”
But all I heard was the sound of rain. There was no way we would find Tama in this weather. And from the start, I’d been unable to shake the feeling that our search was futile. But I kept going, if only to satisfy Miwako.
Finally, I reached the alleyway of abandoned junk. Rummaging through its piles, I shouted her name again.
“Tama! Are you here?”
She wasn’t. I groaned in frustration but tried to take my own advice to Miwako. Think clearly, Ryusei. If you were Tama, where would you go?
I ran to Miwako’s building and searched the perimeter. I shout Tama’s name over and over, losing track of time. I wouldn’t have realized the rain had stopped if Miwako hadn’t found me.
She stared at me for a moment before speaking. “Ryusei, did you . . . ?”
Her words trailed off when I shook my head.
“You’re drenched,” she said. “You need to change into dry clothes, or you’ll get
sick.”
I followed Miwako to her apartment. She ran a hot bath for me. When I came out, she handed me a pair of drawstring pants and a black T-shirt that were clearly hers.
“Your clothes are still drying,” she said. “I know these are too small for you, but please bear with them for now.”
I put on the pants without a word. As for the T-shirt, there was no way I could fit into it.
In the end, I spent the night at Miwako’s apartment. I had wanted to leave, but she wouldn’t let me. She didn’t say a word, but she wouldn’t let go of my hand. I gave up and told her I would leave the next morning. She nodded and muttered a soft thank-you.
“I’m sorry for making you stay. I just don’t want to be alone tonight,” she said.
I patted her head and said, “It’s fine. Don’t apologize. Just let me call my sister.”
I told Fumi-nee I would be staying at Jin’s place. She gave me an earful, saying she had already cooked both of us dinner. But when I told her it was to finish an important school assignment, her anger subsided. My studies had always been her soft spot.
After the call, I went to the couch to sleep, but Miwako asked me to come to the bedroom. She made a space for me in her single bed. Her mattress was too small for the two of us and we had to huddle close together, but that hardly mattered. The whole night, she hugged me tightly from behind and cried silently onto my back.
I’d known Miwako loved Tama, but I was surprised at how much the cat’s disappearance had affected her. I asked every once in a while if she was all right. She mumbled that she was, but continued to cry. I wanted to turn and face her, but our cramped quarters made it difficult to maneuver, and the heavy air made me feel as if even a tiny shift would disturb her, so I remained still until we fell asleep.
The next day, I woke up with a terrible headache. I made an excuse to go home, not wanting Miwako to know I’d fallen sick. I didn’t want her to feel guilty.
“Thank you for staying with me,” she said. “I’ll let you know if Tama returns.”
I gently ran my fingers through her hair. “Don’t think too much about this. You should get some rest. I’m sure Tama will come back soon.”
The Perfect World of Miwako Sumida Page 7