The Miracles of the Namiya General Store

by Keigo Higashino

  But maybe there’s no use trying to convince your parents. I’m sure they came to this decision after a lot of contemplation. And they have all the vital facts about this entire situation that you might not. I’m sure you wouldn’t have written to me if it were so easy to change their minds.

  Which brings me to my question. How do you feel about your parents? Do you like them or hate them? Can you trust them, or have they made you lose your trust?

  You may recall that your question to me wasn’t what your family should do. It was what you should do. So before going any further, I’d like to know what your relationship with them is like.

  As I said in the beginning, this is the first time I’ve had the occasion to answer a letter on a serious topic, and I’m afraid I’m not quite prepared to give you a proper response. If this letter makes you lose your patience, we’ll just have to leave it at that. But if you feel like having another go-round, please think my question over and give me your honest answer. I’ll make sure I come up with something helpful.

  This time, there’s no need to leave your letter in the box inside. I pull down the shutter at eight. If you can come by after that, you can slip your letter into the mail slot. I’ll leave my response in the milk crate the next morning, as early as I can. Feel free to come by any time before we open or after we close. We open at eight thirty.

  I’m sorry to disappoint you this time, but this is the best I can do for now.

  —Namiya General Store

  Kosuke tried to wrap his head around this. He read the letter one more time from the beginning in an attempt to digest it.

  For starters, he understood why the old man hadn’t posted his letter. All the other exchanges had essentially been jokes. Funny enough to draw crowds. But a letter like this was not meant to be shared.

  The other thing was the old man could have easily rejected this serious letter, but instead he’d done his best to start a dialogue. This was a blessing for Kosuke. Having someone know about his circumstances made dealing with it a little easier, and he was glad he had written his letter.

  But the old man hadn’t exactly responded yet. He wanted Kosuke to answer a few questions first. Once he had these answers, he could come up with his advice.

  That night, Kosuke sat down at his desk with another sheet of paper to write back.

  How do you feel about your parents?

  This was a tough one. How did he feel exactly?

  Kosuke didn’t really know. They had started to annoy him more since he started middle school, but he knew he didn’t hate them. He just didn’t like it when they got in his way or treated him like a kid.

  But when they broke the news of the getaway plan, they had lost his blind faith in them. Forced to choose between love and hate, the best he could say was that he hated what they were doing to him right now. He couldn’t trust them anymore. How was he supposed to believe that things would actually work out if he followed their lead?

  Kosuke thought it over again and again, but this was the only answer that came to mind. Oh well, he thought and wrote it anyway. He folded up the letter and left the house. His mother asked him where he was going; he said a friend’s house. As if her mind was occupied enough with harder questions, she didn’t press the issue. Sadayuki wasn’t home.

  It was after eight. The shutter of the Namiya General Store was down when he arrived. He slipped the folded letter through the mail slot and ran off into the night.

  The next morning, he woke just after seven. He hadn’t really slept so well.

  It seemed as though both his folks were still asleep. Kosuke tiptoed out of the house.

  The shutter of the Namiya General Store was still down. He looked up and down the street to make sure no one was coming and went down the alley beside the store.

  He lifted the lid of the milk crate. An envelope, just like yesterday. He checked what it said on the front, just in case, and got the hell out of there.

  He didn’t make it to the library. Along the way, he almost ran past a parked truck, then hid in its shadows to read through the response.

  Dear Paul Lennon,

  I think I now have a sense of what you’re going through.

  In your situation, it’s no wonder you feel like you can no longer trust your parents. And it’s only natural that this would make you start to resent them.

  But I can’t seem to bring myself to tell you to cut them out of your life and head in the direction that feels right for you.

  My general opinion when it comes to families is that they should stick together at all costs, except when someone leaves home on a high note. It would destroy the very meaning of a family unit if everyone went their separate ways over fleeting feelings of anger or impatience.

  In your letter, you told me that you hate what your parents are doing to you right now. I’d like you to try to see the hope in those last two words, right now. There must have been a time when you liked your parents and how they treated you, and there’s a chance that as events unfold, you’ll be able to repair your feelings toward them.

  If that’s the case, it would seem you don’t really have another option.

  There’s nothing positive about fleeing from your circumstances. Ordinarily, I’d never recommend it. But since it seems there’s no way out of it, I believe it would be best for you to go along with them.

  I’m sure your parents have thought this through. They know they won’t solve anything just by running away. They need to hide out for a while, wait for the right time, and work things out as they go.

  It may take quite a long time to work things out entirely. There will be a fair amount of hardship down the line. But for that very reason, it’s essential that your family stay together. I doubt your father would say so to your face, but you can bet he’s ready to go through hell for you. Anything to save his family. It’s up to you and your mother to support him in this fight.

  The worst-case scenario would be for this event to destroy your family. That would be a total loss. I still can’t say this getaway plan is the best thing for your family, but if it keeps you together and in the same boat, you have a fighting chance of getting back on course.

  I’m not sure how old you are, but based on the level of your writing, I’m assuming you’re in middle school or high school. Someday, it will be your job to look after your parents. To be ready for that day, you’ll need to study hard and make a life for yourself. I hope nothing gets in the way of that.

  Believe me. No matter how bad things are today, they’ll be far better tomorrow.

  —Namiya General Store

  4

  One of Kosuke’s friends, a fellow fan of the Beatles, called when there was less than a week left of summer vacation. The same friend who had given him the dirt on their visit to Japan. This time, he called to ask if he could come over and listen to Beatles records like they used to do. Despite being a huge fan, he didn’t own a single record. His family didn’t have a record player. Whenever he’d wanted to listen to the Beatles in the past, he came over to Kosuke’s.

  “Sorry, I can’t. We’re renovating the house, so we can’t get to the stereo.”

  Kosuke had had this excuse ready since the day they took the stereo away. He delivered the line flawlessly.

  “Wait, you serious?” The friend hadn’t seen this coming, and his voice filled with disappointment. “Man, I want to hear them so bad.”

  “Did something happen?”

  His friend said yeah and paused suggestively. “I saw the movie. It opened today.”

  That’s right. Let It Be. The movie.

  “How was it?” Kosuke asked.

  “It was eye-opening.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, it set things straight for me, like why they broke up and everything.”

  “Does someone say why?”

  “No, it’s not like that. When they were filming it, no one was talking about disbanding yet, but you can sort of feel it, you know, in the air. Like, oh yeah, th
is is what was going on. It’s hard to explain. If you see it, you’ll know what I mean. I dunno.”

  “Cool.”

  The conversation wasn’t going anywhere. They both hung up. Kosuke went back to his room. He flipped through his Beatles records and looked at every single cover. Between the ones he’d gotten from his cousin and the ones he’d bought himself, there were over fifty.

  He didn’t know how he could ever give these up. He tried to figure out a way to bring them wherever it was his family was going. His parents had both told him to pack light, but there was no way he would leave behind his records.

  He’d decided he wouldn’t think so hard about the getaway plan. Resisting wasn’t going to change their minds, and they definitely wouldn’t go ahead without dragging him along. Like the old man at the Namiya General Store said, his parents had thought this through. He just had to trust that someday they were going to work things out.

  Anyway. What had made his friend so confident? What was seeing Let It Be going to teach him?

  That night after dinner, Sadayuki finally explained the details of their escape. The plan was to load everything up the night of August 31 and slip into the night during the first minutes of September.

  “The thirty-first is a Monday. I’ll go to work. I’m already scheduled to take a week’s vacation starting September first, so no one will be surprised when I don’t show up the next day. By the next week, all kinds of notices and bills will have piled up. Everyone will know we ran away. We’ll just have to lie low at the next spot for a while. But don’t worry. We have enough cash on hand to live for a year or two. In the meantime, we’ll figure out our next steps.” Sadayuki’s voice was full of confidence.

  “What about school? Which school am I going to go to?”

  Sadayuki glowered at the question. “I’ve given that some thought. It’s not going to happen right away. In the meantime, you’ll have to study on your own.”

  “You mean I’m not going to go to school?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. You’ll go, just not right away. Everyone needs to finish middle school. We’ll get you in somewhere. No need for you to worry about it. I’ll call your teacher and tell them we need to head overseas for a week for work and that you’ll start the school year after that.” Sadayuki brusquely informed him. His mood was turning sour.

  “What about high school?” Kosuke wanted to ask, but he kept quiet. He knew exactly what his father would say. “I’ve got it covered; stop worrying.” Yeah, sounds about right.

  Was he really better off going with them? Indecision reared its head again. He knew he had only one option, but he couldn’t picture himself going through with it.

  Time passed anyway. Before he knew it, August 31 was nearly upon him. Kosuke was in his bedroom, going through his things, when the door swung open. Sadayuki was standing in the doorway.

  “Have a minute?”

  “I guess.”

  Sadayuki stepped into the room and sat down cross-legged next to Kosuke. “Everything packed up?”

  “Basically. I figured I should bring all my textbooks with me.”

  “Right. You’ll need them.”

  “And these are definitely coming, too.” Kosuke pulled out a heavy cardboard box. All his Beatles records were inside.

  Sadayuki looked into the box and frowned. “All that?”

  “I packed as little other stuff as possible, to make room.” Kosuke tried to sound resolute. “I’m bringing these with me.”

  Sadayuki nodded vaguely, looked around the room, and turned his eyes on Kosuke. “What do you think of your old man?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aren’t you angry it had to come to this? You must think I’m a pretty lousy father.”

  “You’re not lousy…,” mumbled Kosuke. “I don’t know what’s going on. Honestly, I’m scared.”

  Sadayuki nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “Dad, are we really gonna be okay? Will things ever be back to normal?”

  Sadayuki blinked a few times and said sure, they would be okay. “I can’t say how or when, but someday I’ll get things back to how they were. That’s a promise.”

  “You mean it?”

  “I mean it. My family is my number one priority. I’ll do anything to keep you and your mother safe. I’m ready to put my life on the line. That’s why—” Sadayuki looked straight into his son’s eyes. “That’s why we have to run.”

  Kosuke knew his father was being sincere. He’d never heard him talk this way before. It helped him take the words to heart.

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “All right,” Sadayuki said. He slapped his knees and stood. “What’s your plan for tomorrow? You’ve still got a bit of summer vacation left. Don’t you have some friends you want to see before we go?”

  Kosuke shook his head. “I’m all set.” He wanted to say there was no point, since he could never see them again anyway, but he held his tongue. “Is it okay if I go to Tokyo?”

  “Tokyo? For what?”

  “There’s a movie I want to see. It’s playing at the Subaru-za in Yurakucho.”

  “Does it have to be tomorrow?”

  “How am I supposed to know if it’ll be playing wherever we wind up?”

  Sadayuki pouted his lip and nodded. “So that’s how it is.”

  “Can I go?”

  “You can, but come back early.”

  “I know.”

  Sadayuki said good night and left the room.

  Kosuke looked through the box of records and pulled one out. It was one he bought that year. Let It Be. The faces of the four Beatles were in boxes, stacked into a square.

  That night, he would think about nothing but the upcoming movie as he tried to fall asleep.

  5

  The next morning, Kosuke left home after breakfast. Kimiko disapproved, asking why he had to pick today of all days to see a movie, but Sadayuki did a good job mollifying her.

  Kosuke had been to Tokyo a bunch of times before with friends, but this was his first visit alone.

  At Tokyo Station, he switched to the Yamanote Line and got off at Yurakucho. When he consulted the map inside the station, he realized the theater was close by.

  There was a big crowd outside. Kosuke wondered if it was because it was the last day of summer vacation. He got in line and bought a ticket; he’d already checked the showtimes in the newspaper and planned accordingly before he came. He still had half an hour to kill before his show started. Now was his chance to have a quick look around the area. In all the other times he’d been to Tokyo, he’d never visited Yurakucho or Ginza.

  Kosuke started walking. In minutes, he was astonished by what he saw.

  He had no idea the city was so gigantic. He’d already been surprised by the number of people and the size of the buildings in Yurakucho, but Ginza was on another level. The endless rows of shops brimmed over with festivity; the streets were alive, as if something special was afoot. All the passersby looked sophisticated and successful. Other towns were perfectly content with the small pockets that mimicked this. They took pride in their fancy little shopping districts. But in this city, this was everywhere. Everywhere you went, it felt like a festival was taking place.

  After a while, Kosuke realized he was seeing the logo for the Expo everywhere. The Expo. After all these months, it was still happening, down in Osaka. And from the looks of the sidewalks of Tokyo, the whole country was celebrating.

  Kosuke felt like a minnow swept into the mouth of the ocean. There were places like this in the world, places where people celebrated life. But this was not his world to live in. He was born to live out his days between the banks of a thin, dim river. And starting the next day, he would sink to the bottom of it all.

  He looked down and turned back the way he came. This was no place for him to be.

  He got back to the movie theater just in time. He showed his ticket, went inside, and got a seat. There were plenty. It seemed as though lots of people ha
d come alone.

  The movie started, and the opening image was a closeup of the band’s insignia: “THE BEATLES.”

  Kosuke’s heart was thumping. This was it, the prelude to that legendary performance. He felt his temperature rising.

  But that exalted feeling faded as the film progressed.

  As he watched, Kosuke got a vague sense of how the film had happened. Let It Be was supposed to be a documentary, combining rehearsal footage with live performances. But these bits and pieces weren’t filmed with this movie in mind. None of the Beatles looked remotely invested in making another film. It was more likely things had gotten so complicated that they couldn’t legally refuse.

  The half-hearted rehearsal was punctuated by exchanges among the members. These, too, were half-baked and hard to decipher. Kosuke’s eyes raced along the subtitles, but he couldn’t understand what anyone was getting at.

  There was one thing he could tell for sure.

  Their hearts weren’t in it anymore.

  It wasn’t that they were fighting, or that anyone refused to play. The four of them were working through the task at hand. But they all knew they weren’t creating anything meaningful.

  In the end, they all went upstairs to the roof of the Apple building. Their instruments and amps had already been hauled up. Their entire staff was present. Everyone looked cold in the winter air. John Lennon was wearing a fur coat.

  They started off with “Get Back.”

  It was soon clear that the show had not been formally announced. When passersby heard the Beatles singing live at a considerable volume from the rooftop, the area around the building was all astir. Police rushed to the scene.

  The next songs were “Don’t Let Me Down” and “I’ve Got a Feeling.” But the performance was dispassionate. This was to be their last show, but none of them appeared the least bit sentimental.

  On that note, the movie ended.

  Kosuke stayed seated long after the lights came on. He was in a haze. He didn’t have the energy to stand. His stomach was heavy, as if he’d drunk a cup of molten lead.