The Hunter

by Asa Nonami

  "Look, if you want to make this whole thing my fault, go right ahead, but—"

  "Don't give me that sulky tone of voice. All I'm saying is, I do not understand how you, the oldest child, could make one phone call and think you've done enough."

  "I'm not sulking. I—"

  "I know, I know. You're up to your ears hunting for some criminal. But why does it have to be you who does it? Isn't there anybody else who could do it? You're Moko's only big sister."

  "She's got Koko."

  "Koko is Koko, and you are you."

  What a hopeless conversation. Takako dared not say anything more about her work, because her mother was sure to start going on about how a woman ought to live—which did not include being a cop. She just held the phone.

  "When are you coming home?"

  "When things come to a stopping point."

  "When will that be?"

  "I don't know. I'm doing all I can."

  "I'm sure you are. So when will it be?"

  "All I can say is, when things come to a stopping point." Feeling like her chest was leaden, Takako used her mother's most hated excuse—"I'm busy, I have to go"—and hung up the phone. Thanks, Tomoko. Thanks, Mom. What a wonderful family. Love getting my divorce thrown in my face.

  But what could she do? To keep her mother from worrying, Takako had never offered anything but the vaguest explanation of her work. Even now, if she said she was standing by to lead the hunt for a wolf-dog that killed three people, her mother's eyes would narrow in anger, her blood pressure would shoot up, and she was certain to say something like, "Are you crazy?! Don't do it! That's nothing you have to do, is it? You're a woman—there should be something safer and easier for you to do." Yes, Mom, I know. But I want to ride my motorcycle. Even if it wasn't an order, I want to find Gale, myself, on my bike.

  Peeved by the conversation, Takako turned around to find a detective standing nearby. Takako stiffened, fearing that he'd listened to the entire conversation.

  "Your boyfriend?" the detective, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, asked, smiling. "He can't see you lately, and so he's giving you a hard time, eh?"

  Takako smiled evasively back. Don't think about extraneous things. Rest, so you're ready to do the job at any time. Tomoko, just because you put me through all this, you're getting well whether you like it or not. And you're breaking up once and for all with that jerk. Got it?

  Entering the sleeping room, she was in such a foul mood that if not for the other people there, she might have kicked something. Even so, she was physically exhausted, and no sooner did she lie down on the thin bedding than she was fast asleep.

  4

  It was the color of a dirty rag. At first, Teruko Iohara thought it was a patch of dirty snow from the snowstorm a few days ago. She hadn't done anything with the garden for some years now; the trees were overgrown, and so many of them were sasanqua, fatsia, and evergreens that the garden was never bare, even in winter. As the sun didn't reach all the way to the ground, snow didn't melt quickly.

  When is this cold weather going to end?

  Teruko sighed as she stepped casually out into the accumulation of snow. This was her first time out in the garden since the storm. Usually she took a turn in the garden once a day, but fear of slipping and falling had kept her indoors until now. Really, she needed to call in a gardener and have the shrubbery trimmed. But living alone on a fixed income, she couldn't afford it, and finding a good gardener was so much trouble. All the workmen she used to know—not just the gardener but the tatami-maker, the house painter, the joiner, and the plumber—well, she didn't know them anymore.

  So be it. This house and I could just molder away together.

  And yet she couldn't sit back and let the garden go to seed. Stray cats might move in, and who knew what people were going to throw over the wall. People were a disgrace, the way they tossed empty cans and cigarette butts and whatever else they felt like getting rid of. Just because the garden was unkempt didn't give them the right to treat it like a garbage dump. How rude.

  "Honestly, folks today haven't got a lick of manners," she said aloud.

  As she surveyed the garden of this house where none of her four children, nor any of her grandchildren, ever came to visit, Teruko's gaze was drawn back to that spot in the snow. There was something funny about it. The whole garden was covered in white. How come that one spot wasn't? Maybe it wasn't snow, maybe it was something else.

  "Mercy! I almost fell. The ground is so soft and muddy."

  Carefully, she picked her way through the garden. She was wearing heavy socks over her tights, and a pair of old slip-ons. Usually she scarcely noticed it, but there was no doubt that her steadily worsening cataracts were affecting her vision.

  "All I need to do is fall here and break a hip. I'd never get up again." When you lived alone, your health—the ability to get around without any problem—was a main priority.

  "If I remember right, there used to be a stepping-stone right around here."

  Here it is! Under the snow, covered over with dirt so you could hardly tell it was there. She hadn't so much as swept a leaf these many years, so that wasn't surprising.

  Eyes on her feet as she made her way slowly toward the dirty patch of snow, Teruko wondered if it could be a sandbag. Except who would be able to throw a sandbag into the middle of a 600-square-yard plot of land? If it was near the wall, maybe, but not this far. . . they'd have to climb over the wall first. If someone was pulling a prank like that, harassing her, she might have to do something about it.

  "Land's sake. Why do these things have to happen to me?"

  Coming finally to the edge of the shrubbery, Teruko cautiously straightened her back. If she moved too quickly, the way she used to when she was young, she could throw her back out of joint. That reminded her; she'd been putting it off because of the snow, but today or tomorrow she needed to go get an electric massage. She looked around, beyond the ferns and otnoto lilies and the daffodils just starting to come up.

  There she saw something that dumbfounded her. How much time had gone by while she stood there, just looking at it without a word? This was astonishing. Something akin to fear crawled up her spine. But another emotion had her even more strongly in its grip.

  "Now how did you get in here?" she muttered in a gruff, low voice. The lump of gray, still curled in a ball, stared at her, unmoving. It looked like a pile of dirty snow with a black nose and round, greenish eyes. But on top was a pair of big, triangular ears, and beneath the pointy jaw there were undoubtedly legs. "I asked you how you got in here!"

  Of all things. Imagine a stray dog this size, here in the middle of Tokyo! More than astonishment or fear, Teruko felt anger. An irresponsible owner had abandoned his dog here.

  "Where's your master, eh? This is my house. You have no right to be here."

  She'd had dogs of her own before. Never one this big, though. When the children were little, they were always bringing home a stray dog or cat, and she'd had Shibas and mixed breeds for watchdogs, too. Around back somewhere there was still a long-abandoned doghouse, gone to ruin. "I'm talking to you."

  Teruko ventured farther along the mucky ground in her sandals. Only then did the animal rouse itself from its curled-up position and sit up. Teruko's eyes widened at the size of it. The head was high off the ground. And what sharp, intelligent eyes it had. She didn't know what kind of dog it was, but the nose was big and black, the muzzle was long, and come to think of it, it looked like a wolf. The thought crossed her mind that if a dog like this attacked her, it could easily kill her.

  Better not raise a fuss. Instantly, she made this judgment. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do if you ever came across a bear in the mountains, make no fuss, show no fear, never look away for a second? What worked for one animal had to work for another. Besides, there was a strange power in those eyes that was irresistible. Teruko could barely turn away from the animal's gaze.

  Well. We can't stand here staring at each other
forever. What to do? Finally, coming to herself, Teruko began to worry.

  First thing was to get away safely. Then, she could find a stick or something to chase it off; or would it be better to call the department of health? Staring into the small round eyes, Teruko wracked her brains—and then she happened to see the animal's feet. The mud-covered forelegs, planted on snow and dead leaves, were trembling.

  It being a dog, its expression did not change. The relatively small eyes shone as if there was an inner light. Teruko thought the dog had fine eyes, possessed a fine dignity. And yet those stout, solid forelegs were trembling. Where had it come from, how had it gotten here? Cleaned up, it would be a good-looking dog, she thought, because from jaw to chest it was covered with a reddish-black, muddy-looking substance.

  The words "Are you cold?" formed in her mind. Preparing to say them, le moved her hand a fraction of an inch, and instantly the dog began shaking all over. "You don't have to be so scared."

  She wasn't going to bite. A big dog like this was more likely to attack her than the other way round. And yet it just sat there and shivered, looking at a little old lady like her. What a pathetic creature.

  "It's all right. Lie back down." After observing it a while longer, this was what Teruko told the dog. It wasn't barking or growling, just shivering; no point in waving a stick at a dog like that. "Brrr, it's cold. I'm going back inside." With that, she turned quietly on her heel and began to walk away, beside herself with apprehension that the dog might attack her from behind; when she had taken five or six steps, she turned and saw the gray dog hadn't moved, was watching her from between the leaves of the fatsia bush. Just as well. It'll go off before long anyway. Probably it got separated from its master and wandered in here, exhausted. She didn't really mind letting it rest in her garden for a while. Besides, this wasn't some smart-mouthed person she was dealing with; it was a silent, shivering dog. "Oh, that's better." When she got back to the living room, Teruko sat on the floor and warmed her legs under the kotatsu. When was the weather ever going to get warm? From where she sat, she poured hot water over the tea leaves she used for the last cup, and sipped the weak tea. She started to think again about the dog in her garden.

  "He's in the garden, all right, but how did he get in?" The gate was always shut. Before, she used to open it in the daytime, but so few people came by, Did she found it so intimidating to have to go outside at dusk to lock it again, at now she never opened it except when she herself went out. Then maybe it jumped over the wall? The wall was made of oyaishi stone and was as tall as a grown man; not so easy to jump over. Maybe to a dog, a jump like that was nothing; even so, Teruko felt uneasy as she sipped her tea. There were so many trees now, this room got less light than it used to. Wrapped in silence, alone in the twilight, she couldn't help worrying out that dog. How long would it stay?

  After staring off into space for a time, Teruko clucked at herself and got up from the kotatsu. Going through the frigid entranceway and then a formal room she once used as guest room, she carefully slid open the shoji door and went out into the corridor. If all the shutters were open, it was a pleasantly sunny hallway, but lately she only opened one or two shutters. The messy corridor, with its piles of old cardboard boxes and whatnot, was damp and even colder than the rest of the house. Teruko stood by the one window with open shutters, and surreptitiously opened the curtain.

  The grayish lump was still among the trees. Perhaps it was curled in a ball; she couldn't see the face. Nevertheless, it was definitely there in the same place as before.

  "I wonder if it's injured."

  Teruko began to worry the dog had come here to die, an unbearable thought. Yet even though it was shivering, the animal didn't look famished or weak. As long as she didn't go outside it would leave her alone, and if she returned the favor, sooner or later it would go away. Coming to this conclusion, she moved away from the window.

  Or maybe it was hungry.

  Settling back into the warmth of the kotatsu, Teruko reconsidered. The dogs she used to have had been fond of rice gruel. She would throw in leftovers from a meal, sometimes a bit of boiled fish or tempura, and give it to them. Dogs always felt closest to whoever fed them. Remembering the old days, Teruko considered pouring a little miso soup on some leftover rice and giving it to the dog.

  "No, not on your life!"

  What if she was kind to it, and then it settled down and wouldn't go away? A puppy might be one thing, but she couldn't keep a great big dog like that. It would eat her out of house and home.

  She ended up peering out at the garden every hour. Every time she looked, the lump of gray was still there. As the sun sank, the wind moaned in the trees. When she closed the shutters, the animal was still there, ensconced in the shadows.

  That night Teruko ate alone as usual. Her false teeth didn't fit right, and she had little appetite, so she ate a simple meal in less than ten minutes. Afterwards, there was little to do. She made preparations for breakfast, then walked around locking up the house. She laid out her bedding and changed into her nightclothes. Before turning off the lights, she switched on the television. Whether a program was interesting or boring, she always watched television till eleven. The television was now Teruko's greatest pleasure, and her best friend.

  Peeling a tangerine, she half-watched the news. Teruko's days passed by changelessly, but out in the world, all sorts of things were happening.

  "Next, early this morning in the compound of a temple in Takenotsuka, Adachi Ward, the body of a man in his thirties was found bleeding from rounds to the head. Tokyo police have determined that the victim was apparently bitten to death by a large canine. The victim has been identified as Taku Mizutani, a nearby resident of Takenotsuka. Investigators say ..."

  Teruko knew from watching the news that there had been incidents of fatal attacks by dogs recently in the city. Tonight, however, as soon as she heard this report, she felt her heart jump into her throat. A large canine, nothing in the least unusual about that, she knew, and yet...

  "The dog that is thought to have attacked Mizutani is a male wolf-dog roughly three feet in height, dark gray in color, one of very few such dogs in Japan. Wolf-dogs do not ordinarily attack humans, but sources indicate that this one has received special training. Police are conducting an all-out search for the animal."

  Dark gray, three feet tall, wolf-dog: these words were compressing Teruko's heart until she could hardly breathe. It couldn't be! But the description matched the dog out in her garden exactly, the dog that had looked her coolly in the eye.

  "Oh, my. What shall I do? It's a killer dog, they're saying."

  She felt a chill. Should she call the police? This might not be the dog they ere looking for, though. After all, it had been trembling. How could a dog lat shook with fear at the sight of Teruko ever attack and kill anyone?

  Suddenly she remembered the reddish-black mud on the dog's jaw and chest. What if that wasn't mud? What if it was gore from the deadly attack? The dog had attacked and killed someone, and then, tired out, it had sneaked into her garden to hide and rest. When this thought came to her, she began shaking uncontrollably. She wanted to open the shutters right away and see it was still there. But no—if something went wrong, it might attack her. Berating herself for her foolishness in even thinking of giving food to such a dog, Teruko debated whether or not to call the police. But what if the police came rushing up this late at night with their sirens going full blast? What would the neighbors think? The dog might be gone by then anyway. If only would just disappear. She didn't want to get involved in anything.

  "Just go away somewhere. I don't know anything. It's got nothing to do with me."

  She didn't feel like watching the television anymore. She switched the news program off before it was over and crawled into bed. She'd lived alone for so many dozens of years now that she was completely used to it, or so she thought; yet tonight this house empty of other occupants, filled only with memories, struck her as eerily large.

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sp; 5

  It looked like a shaggy gray cloud.

  It was before dawn when headquarters radioed them the information and they found themselves racing from the stakeout in Akishima to the house in Nerima Ward.

  "Are we sure it's Gale?" Takako asked Takizawa, frowning. She had no desire to leave the vicinity of the Kasahara house. This was no time to spend chasing a bum tip.

  "Who knows. But the lady who called sounded convincing, so we have to check it out. She says the dog's neck and chest are covered with gore."

  "With ... gore?"

  "That's what she says. And come without sirens, please, to keep from disturbing the neighborhood. Of course, sirens or no sirens, the second that animal senses danger he's gonna make a run for it." Takizawa looked un-enthusiastic. But you couldn't ignore orders.

  Takako had gotten on her frost-covered motorcycle and sped off for the address in Nerima Ward, near the Saitama border.