Ame didn’t take well to nature. He never approached anything unfamiliar, and it was all he could do to stumble after Hana.
They came across a stony field of reed grass where a single dead tree stood. Ame rested his hand against its trunk, overwhelmed with nervousness and exhaustion.
“Oh, Ame, look!” Hana called, turning back toward him.
“Bleh!”
He retched stomach acid onto the tree trunk. Overhead, a circling hawk seemed to eye the weak wolf cub as possible prey.
Hana squatted beside the boy crouched on the ground.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, massaging his stiff back.
He looked down, still huddled on the ground in apparent embarrassment at having thrown up.
Yuki scampered up to them, triumphantly holding up a waterfowl she’d caught.
“Look, Mommy, look! It’s a cormorant! There’s a stream over—”
“Shhh,” Hana said, holding her index finger to her lips and rubbing Ame’s back again. Tears were rolling down through the stains of bile on his cheeks. Behind the tears, his eyes shone stubbornly.
“Mommy.”
“Yes?”
“Why are wolves always the bad guys?”
“Bad guys? You mean in picture books?”
“Everyone hates them. People always kill them at the end. If that’s true, then…I hate wolves.”
“…I understand.”
“—”
“But I like wolves. Even if everyone else hates them, I like them very much.”
“—”
Ame looked up at Hana, relieved.
On the way home, Hana carried Ame on her back, and before long, he was snoring. Her chest tightened at the thought that such a little boy was already struggling with his identity.
After they got home, she held him on her lap and stroked his hair as he slept. The summer sun dipped low in the sky.
She heard Yuki calling from the garden. “Mommy! Mommy!”
Hana went outside. “What? What’s wrong?”
Yuki stood next to a tomato plant, calling over her shoulder. “They died again.”
“What?!” Hana shouted in shock.
She squatted beside the plant. The leaves were wilted and yellowed in places, and their tips were curled upward. They seemed to be withering from the ground up.
“A plant disease… They’re all gone… I don’t believe it…”
All of the plants had the same disease, and it was definitely a disease. She would have to do some research to find out what it was, but even a novice could see the entire row was wiped out.
Hana felt faint. The tomatoes were just about to turn red, and now they wouldn’t be able to harvest a single one? She had tried so hard to take proper care of them. What had all that work been for?
“Mommy…”
She looked up with a start.
“What’re we gonna do?”
Yuki seemed to instinctively sense that something was wrong, and her question weighed heavily on Hana. She didn’t know how to answer, and she shook her head in an attempt to clear away the anxiety.
“…Mama’s not so good at this. I need to study more.”
She forced herself to smile and reached out to stroke Yuki’s cheek. She noticed her heart growing oddly calm as she caressed her soft skin.
“Will you still help me?”
“…Okay.”
Although Yuki’s expression was still rigid, she nodded, and Hana felt relief wash over her. “Thank you.”
She looked over the bank of the field and spotted an old Nissan Sunny pickup truck was pulled over by the side of the road. Someone was standing with their arm on the roof, staring their way.
It was Grandpa Nirasaki, one of the old men from the village.
Hana recognized him; she was fairly sure he had been there when she asked permission to collect fallen leaves. After telling Yuki to run inside, she walked over to him.
“Hello.”
“—” Instead of answering, he stared at her.
Hana kept smiling. “I, um, I kept meaning to go introduce myself to your family, but I’ve been so busy…”
“—”
“Growing your own food is so hard, isn’t it? I try to follow the instructions in the books, but I’m not having much luck…”
“—”
“Um, this is a lovely area, isn’t it? Out in nature—”
Suddenly, Grandpa Nirasaki broke in. “What’s nature got to do with it? It’s not like you can plant something today and expect it to grow tomorrow.”
“Huh?”
“It’ll never work if that’s your approach. Don’t you think?”
His voice was ever so slightly contemptuous.
Hana hesitated for a moment, confused, and then smiled awkwardly at him. “Uh…um…”
“Stop smiling.”
“…!”
“Why do you always have that phony grin on your face?”
“—”
“Smiling doesn’t make the crops grow.”
With that, he slammed the truck door coldly and drove off.
Hana stared after him in a daze, her smile frozen on her face. It took her a few minutes to collect herself enough to move again.
In the lingering light after the sun had set, she pulled up the dead plants. She didn’t have enough energy left to talk.
“That guy was scary,” Yuki mumbled as she helped.
“No, I’m the one who doesn’t know anything,” Hana replied.
“But you’re a grown-up.”
Grandpa Nirasaki had been so blunt, right to her face, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. What did she think she was doing? She was so embarrassed.
“Oh… There are so many things I should have asked your father.”
She sighed and looked up at the sky.
It was a summer afternoon.
Big raindrops beat down on the roof tiles as Yuki and Ame sat next to each other on the porch, following the drops with their eyes. At her desk in the main room, Hana paged through an agricultural manual to figure out why the plants had caught a disease. Sure enough, the cause and solution were right in front of her nose. She wished she had read this kind of book before she started; it was filled with information on several other diseases that weren’t even mentioned in her beginner’s books. She took notes on each one.
Unexpectedly, a car pulled into the front garden, sending up showers of water from the puddles. Yuki and Ame scrambled into the house and hid warily behind the desk. A woman in a raincoat emerged from the car and ran toward the house, trying to dodge the raindrops.
“What a storm!”
Hana came outside and smiled stiffly as the middle-aged woman sat down on the porch, shaking the raindrops from her coat.
“Hello. Uh…”
“This is for you.” The woman turned toward Hana and handed her a plastic bag.
“What is it?”
“Seed potatoes.”
“You mean for planting in the garden?”
“What else would you do with them?” She laughed a friendly country woman’s laugh. “I heard Grandpa had some strong words for you, but don’t you worry about him. It’s just how he is.”
Apparently, she was Grandpa Nirasaki’s daughter. Hana had seen her once at the village general store. She couldn’t help answering her amiable smile in kind. “No, I’m the one who should apologize,” she said.
Ms. Nirasaki accepted Hana’s words with a self-satisfied smile. She craned her neck toward the back of the house and called out to the children.
“Hello, there!”
Instead of answering, Yuki retreated from the shadow of the desk to the far side of a door, glaring menacingly out. Ame followed his sister, an anxious look on his face. Hana felt terrible.
“…I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ms. Nirasaki answered, smiling as if she didn’t mind a whit.
The next morning, the rain clouds g
ave way to a brilliant summer sky.
Hana spent the first half of August redoing the garden. She dug up the entire plot all over again, watered it, and spread plastic sheeting and bags on the ground. Ms. Nirasaki had told her that this would help the summer sun sterilize the soil, killing most diseases and pests.
Even after the height of summer, the days were sweltering. Hana put hats on the children and brought them to the garden with her. While she dug holes, Yuki and Ame dropped in the seed potatoes Ms. Nirasaki had given them. Hoping fervently that this time would give them success, Hana covered the potatoes with soil.
The Sunny truck stopped next to the field.
Grandpa Nirasaki got out and marched up the bank.
Hana greeted him, wiping the sweat from her face. “Oh, Grandpa Nirasaki. Thank you for the seed potatoes.”
Grandpa Nirasaki did not reply. He just eyed her rows.
“You wanna waste them?” he muttered, then began digging up the potatoes Hana and the children had just planted and rolled them onto the surface of the soil.
“…Oh.” Hana’s smile froze.
From under the bill of his hat, Grandpa Nirasaki gazed harshly at her. “Do it over. The soil, too.”
“…!” Hana was speechless.
As the summer sun scorched her skin, she picked up the hoe and began digging up the soil yet again.
Grandpa Nirasaki walked silently and sullenly around the edge of the field without so much as a glance Hana’s way. He stopped abruptly, looked at Hana, and barked a short command.
“Can’t you dig any deeper?”
“I’m sorry.” Hana directed all her energy into following his instruction as he resumed his silent pacing around the field. The morning thunderheads were growing taller; the only sounds were the shrill song of a cicada and the even rhythm of the hoe.
“What about fertilizer?” Hana panted.
“You mixed in leaves, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you don’t need any.”
The sun had climbed above their heads. Finally, Hana finished the whole field without a single break for rest. Dripping with sweat, she leaned on the handle of the hoe to catch her breath. She wasn’t wearing gloves, and her palms throbbed painfully.
“If you’re done over there, do this one, too.”
Nirasaki was looking at another abandoned field. Hana wiped her sweat with the back of her hand and turned toward him with a tired smile.
“I don’t need that much space. I’m just growing enough for me and the two kids,” she said mildly. All she wanted was a glorified kitchen garden, and since she didn’t plan to sell anything, she figured the one field would be plenty. Nevertheless…
“…Are you deaf?”
She gulped, taken aback by Nirasaki’s glare. The thought of starting in on an entirely untouched plot of land right now made her feel faint, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. She trudged over to the new field, cut down the overgrown weeds, and began doggedly hoeing the soil. Sweat rolled into her eyes. She was long past sore muscles; her very joints were beginning to creak.
The shadow of a bird crossed the afternoon clouds.
“Make ridges.”
“Okay.” By now she had no energy even for smiling. She pushed the soil into ridges, her disheveled hair sticking out every which way.
“Farther apart.”
“Okay.”
“The ridges are too low.”
“Okay.”
“Higher.”
“Okay.”
She focused her mind on remaking the ridges according to his instructions. Sweat dripped from her chin and hit the ground with an audible pitter-pat, and her hair was plastered to her mud- and sweat-covered skin. She couldn’t even think. She just stared at the spot in front of her and pushed on with her never-ending task.
Before she realized, it was evening. Beneath the light of the setting sun, she evened out the ridges in the two fields. Grandpa Nirasaki carefully inspected each potato before slicing some of them in half with his pocketknife. When he finished, he straightened his back and looked at Hana.
Sensing his gaze, she stopped working and turned around. He tossed a plastic bag full of the cut potatoes toward her.
“A week from now, plant them with the cut side down. Don’t water ’em. Just leave ’em be.”
Hana stumbled forward and gave her biggest smile. “Um…thank you for teaching—”
Before she could finish, the door of the Sunny truck had slammed shut, and she watched in a daze as he drove off.
The sun had tinted the world red as it set behind the mountains. An evening cicada sang its rhythmic song, then stopped. Yuki and Ame emerged from their hiding place and ran up to Hana.
“Mommy, are you okay?”
Their voices brought her back to her senses. Exhaustion washed over her, and she sank to the ground right where she was.
Thousands of autumn darters descended from the mountains, filling the fall sky.
The potatoes sprouted and seemed to grow bushier before Hana’s very eyes. One day, as she was snapping off extra sprouts and piling soil against the stems in a desperate struggle to keep up, two rugged four-wheel-drive cars pulled up next to the field.
It was Mr. Hosokawa and Mr. Yamaoka, the two old men from the village. They gestured to Hana.
“Come here a minute.”
“Huh?”
“We won’t bite; just come over.”
“Huh?”
“Come on, come on.”
Without a word of explanation, they whisked Hana off to a garden outlet on the Super Agricultural Highway. Inside the row of big greenhouses packed with fall seedlings, Mr. Hosokawa picked up two plants and began explaining the principles of companion planting.
“This is a cabbage and a chamomile. If you plant ’em together, the pests stay away and they both taste better.”
Mr. Yamaoka interrupted, holding two different plants. “Don’t listen to him. Cabbage always goes with celery.”
“No, no, no. These are the plants you want for a beginner.”
“What’re you, nuts? Will chamomile fill your stomach?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, no, no!”
Soon, they were arguing. Hana looked from one to the other.
Once they made their purchases, they all went back to Hana’s garden and started planting them right away.
“You should plant them about this deep.”
“No, no. First you water the hole. Then you plant them.”
“No you don’t. You can water afterward. First, just get them in the ground.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, no, no!”
Again, they were arguing. Hana looked from one to the other.
After that, the two men often stopped by to check on the garden.
“When you fertilize midseason, you only need a little. Too much and you’ll just attract bugs.”
“No, no. Give it here. You can’t skimp on this stuff.”
“Don’t listen to him. A little is plenty.”
“Take his advice, and they’ll never grow.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“What did you say?”
“What did you say?”
More arguing.
Hana looked back and forth at the cabbages each of them had planted. Both kinds were growing wonderfully.
Shortly after that, the Horitas and the Dois—two couples from the village—came to Hana’s house. They set gifts of chicken manure and a water bottle filled with brown liquid on the porch.
“Wood vinegar? What’s that?”
“A natural pesticide, and it prevents disease. You can make it from the smoke when you burn charcoal.”
“Thank you for coming all the way out here with this.”
“Sorry we didn’t call first. I’m sure we caught you by surprise!”
“Not at all…”
&nbs
p; As she poured tea for everyone, Hana looked at the two couples, both of whom were much older than her. She would never have guessed they were full-time farmers; they were dressed as smartly as businessmen and women vacationing in the mountains to escape the heat. They smiled kindly at Hana, clearly trying to put her at ease.
“I suppose you’re having some culture shock out here.”
“Yes, it’s all so new to me. Every day is a learning experience.”
“A lot of people move all the way out here from the city, only to go back the moment something goes wrong.”
“Were any of them young people?”
“Nah, they’re all old geezers starting retirement. It almost makes you laugh; they just don’t have the grit.”
Both couples looked at each other and smiled wryly. Mr. Horita took a sip of his tea and stared intently out the window.
“Maybe I’m not the one to say this, but this isn’t an easy place to make a go of it,” he said.
“Yeah, the soil here is very poorly drained.”
“And it snows so much.”
“We just have to help one another…”
Hana studied the profiles of her four visitors. Their words struck a chord in her heart.
The next to come were two young mothers driving economy cars. They’d both moved to the area after marrying a local. Their children, dressed in preschool smocks, were in tow.
“It’s great to have another young mom in the area. There are so few of us out here. If you ever have a question, just give us a call.”
“Oh, thanks…”
They were astonished to hear Hana’s simple account of how she’d gotten by up till now.
“Seriously? You’re living on savings?”
“Yes, and I’ve got to find a job soon,” Hana said, resting her chin in her hands.
One of the mothers peered at her. “It’s tough to find work here. It’s not like the city.”
“Yeah, everyone puts their kids in day cares, and the commute is so far,” the other said.
“Tell me about it.”
They both nodded.
Yuki and Ame seemed to have listened in on their conversation.
“What’s preschool like?” Yuki asked, looking up at Hana as she cooked dinner.
“Huh?”
“Why can’t me and Ame go?”
“Well, because—”
Wolf Children: Ame & Yuki Page 6