Summertime of the Dead

by Gregory Hughes

  I took off my shirt and took the sword from the wardrobe. There was enough space, as long as I didn’t raise it in the jodan stance. And so I started the katas from the chudan stance. I imagined there was an opponent in front of me and I thrust the sword into his throat, stabbed at his torso and struck at his shoulders. I stooped and jammed the sword into his armpit. I hacked at his hands and fingers and I chopped at his elbows.

  I kept performing the katas until I was sweating and the room was spinning. But then something strange happened. It was as if my mind went into a trance. I started to see real people in front of me. It was like I was being attacked by an army of tattooed men, and the more that came the harder I fought. I struck their skulls, gashed their throats and stabbed at their eyes. I could feel the sword breaking bones and severing arteries. And I could see the men falling in agony around me. I hacked at their raised hands, and their fingers fell to the floor. Blood spattered on the bedroom walls and dripped from the ceiling. I could feel its warmth running down my back. But then I stumbled on the screaming bodies and the body parts and the heads that were staring up at me. And then I fell to the floor, which was swaying like a rolling ship. The screaming turned into that clanging sound. It got louder and louder until it was so painful I had to cover my ears but that didn’t help. I looked up at the statue of the Buddha and I begged him to make it stop.

  Next thing I knew, the Lump was there. She said something, but I couldn’t understand her. She pulled my hands away and put her hands over my ears. Suddenly the ringing stopped. ‘Poor Yukio,’ she said, and she looked so worried. She took the sword from me, and putting it in the wardrobe she piled pillows on top of it. I just sat there in a daze like the shocked survivor of a train crash. I even looked around the room searching for body parts, but of course there weren’t any. I felt frightened then, and sad, because I knew I was changing, and I liked the person I used to be.

  The Lump took my arm and helped me to my feet. My whole body was aching and shivering and I felt exhausted.

  ‘Come, Yukio,’ she said, and handed me my shirt.

  I put it on and followed her downstairs and then she opened the door and led me outside. She wanted to lead me down the street but I pulled away. I don’t know where she was trying to take me, but I didn’t want to go. But the Lump grabbed my arm. ‘Please, Yukio!’ I was too weak to argue and so I went along. She led me over the tracks, and across the road, and pulling me up the concrete ramp she led me into the park. She walked me through the trees, and all the time her eyes were searching. It was like she was looking for something and she seemed desperate to find it. Then she stopped. ‘Ants! Look, Yukio, beautiful ants!’ I looked down at them just to please her, but they were just ants. She saw a butterfly land on a plant. ‘Look, Yukio, beautiful butterfly!’ It was a big butterfly with emerald-coloured wings. It fluttered upwards and I watched it go. ‘And look, beautiful trees!’ said the Lump. I looked up at the trees. The golden sunlight made the leaves see-through and it warmed my face. The Lump took my hand and we came out on the common. There were families having picnics and there were small children running around. An old woman with a camera smiled as she took photographs, and a proud dad was teaching his small son to fly a kite. To me it all seemed as unreal as the bodies in my room.

  A couple of common sparrows landed on the ground. The Lump pointed at them. ‘And look, Yukio, beautiful birds as well!’ She held out her hands and cringed as though the beauty of it all pained her. ‘Beautiful park! And beautiful people! And beautiful sky!’ Then she looked up at me. ‘And beautiful Yukio!’

  That killed me! A pain came into my heart and I collapsed to my knees! I tried to be strong, but for the second time in that park I broke down. I cried for the twins and the cop and the girl with no fingers. And I cried for Yoshe’s baby and Grandmother and for the Lump, who thought everything was beautiful. I felt so pathetic but I couldn’t stop. And so the Lump put her arm around me and hugged me and wiped away the tears. Then she knelt next to me and held my hand. I felt peaceful in my head then, just the way I did before all of this started.

  We watched children chase each other around the trees and we watched a mum with her little girl as she rode her bike for the first time. We smiled at the small boy as he ran with his red kite and we flinched when he fell down. But he got up and laughed, and then we got up and headed home.

  The Lump linked arms with me as she walked me back to the house. And as soon as we were through the door she ran to my room. I knew what she was after, and sure enough she came out carrying the swords.

  ‘Hide,’ she said.

  I climbed the steep steps into the loft and the Lump followed. She looked around and seeing only the chest she opened it. She started to take out all my grandfather’s things – his books and his medals and his uniforms. I helped her, and when we were done she put the swords at the bottom. Then, very quickly, she started piling the other things on top. She kept going until the chest was full and then she closed the lid and stood back. She scowled at it, as if she didn’t like it, and then she turned to me.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘It’s over.’ I was so relieved when I said those words. I felt like a soldier on a battlefield, ready to make a suicide attack, only to be told that the war was over. The Lump had saved me and now I didn’t know what to say to her.

  ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Hungry,’ said the Lump.

  As soon as we went downstairs Grandmother came out of her room. She had a letter in her hand. ‘Mikazuki, your parents are home. You will be leaving us tonight on the sleeper to Sapporo.’

  The Lump looked sad and so did I.

  ‘Don’t worry, Yukio,’ said Grandmother. ‘She’ll be back soon enough … Now you get packed, Mikazuki, and I’ll have your things sent to the station. Then, if your uncle so wishes, he can take you somewhere nice for dinner. Would you like that, Yukio?

  ‘Yes, Grandmother, I would.’

  The Lump went upstairs to pack and I went in the kitchen and sat at the table. Yoshe put tea in front of me, without being asked, and then she took a seat.

  ‘You look so pale, Yukio. Are you OK?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said.

  ‘It was nice you looking after her while she was here. I think she really enjoyed herself.’

  ‘I’m going to buy her a present before she goes. What do you think she’d like?’

  ‘I don’t know. She’s so … different. Maybe you should ask her.’

  We heard her coming downstairs and went out into the hall. Grandmother came out of her room. ‘Where’re your clothes and your suitcase?’ she asked.

  The Lump looked a little embarrassed. ‘Rucksack,’ she said.

  I knew then why she always wore that jacket. It was to hide those worn-out T-shirts. All the rest of her clothes she could fit into that tiny rucksack. Those phoney parents of hers must have spent all their money on themselves and their piano-playing daughter. No wonder the kids at school picked on her.

  Grandmother looked taken aback but she tried to hide it. ‘Well, it’s always good to travel light,’ she said. Then she nodded to Yoshe and they both went into her room.

  ‘I’d like to buy you a present before you leave,’ I said. ‘What would you like?’

  The Lump had a think. ‘Shinai,’ she said.

  ‘No, you can have anything you want.’

  The Lump had another think. ‘Shinai.’

  I went upstairs and came down with the best shinai I had.

  ‘Wrapped up,’ said the Lump.

  ‘Wrapping paper? … I know there’s some in the kitchen.’

  But then Yoshe came out of Grandmother’s room. ‘Mikazuki, how would you like to come shopping with me?’

  ‘Shopping?’

  Yoshe smiled. ‘Yes, just us two girls.’

  The Lump’s eyes lit up.

  I heard someone knocking on the door and my eyes opened.

  ‘Yukio.’ Yoshe looked in. ‘If you’re going to take Mikazuki to dinner, you’ll have to
get up.’

  It was like I’d only been asleep ten minutes, but I could tell by the light that the sun had set. I got showered and dressed and went downstairs, and there I got the shock of my life. The Lump was wearing a kimono! It was cream-coloured and covered with long-legged cranes and lotus blossoms. And it had long sleeves and a wide waistband. She was even wearing the straw sandals and the white socks that geishas wore. My cousin Mikazuki looked like a lump in everything she wore, but she looked like a superstar in a kimono. Yoshe was smiling while Grandmother was trying to hide how proud she felt. But the Lump was biting her lip. It was like she was waiting for my approval.

  ‘You look great,’ I said.

  Her face beamed into a smile and she looked down at herself, with her arms out, as though proud of her own appearance.

  Grandmother glared at me. ‘Jeans and T-shirt? I think not! Now go and get changed!’

  I ran upstairs, put on pants and a proper shirt and ran back down.

  Yoshe was holding a camera. ‘Quick, Yukio, before the taxi comes.’

  I stood next to Grandmother, and the Lump stood in front of us. I put my hand on her shoulder and we all looked as proud as we could. Yoshe took the photograph. ‘It’s a great shot!’ We heard a horn outside and Yoshe opened the door. ‘Taxi’s here.’

  Grandmother looked a little sad now that it was time for the Lump to leave. ‘You’re family, Mikazuki. And family is important in this house. Know that you are always welcome here.’ Then, with more than a little ceremony, Grandmother bowed to the Lump.

  The Lump bowed back. ‘Thank you, Grandmother.’

  We went outside and got in the taxi. Yoshe came out and handed the Lump a silk fan. ‘Don’t forget this … Now, I’ll meet you at Tokyo station with her luggage. Don’t be late.’

  ‘I won’t,’ I said.

  The Lump waved at Yoshe and the taxi drove away. Then she sat back and smiled.

  Strange – earlier that day I was training to kill someone. Then I went insane. And then the Lump brought me back to my senses. If she hadn’t I would have been on my way to Uncle Benni’s house, where I definitely would have been killed. But that was the Lump for you. She mightn’t have been able to put two sentences together, but she saw a world that other people didn’t. And when she showed it to me all the bad things seem to fade away.

  We pulled up opposite the seriously crowded Shinjuku station and stepped on to Shinjuku Terrace: a smooth pedestrian walkway that ran below the skyscrapers and above the train tracks. It was lined with trees, cafes and coffee shops and a lot of people came here to people-watch. And they were getting a treat tonight. The Lump linked her arm through mine and we walked along the terrace with an audience watching us. I felt a little embarrassed at first, because of the attention. But then I saw how pleased the people were when they saw her. They pointed her out to their friends, and they’d point her out to other people. Then an American came out of Starbucks.

  ‘May I?’ he asked, holding up his camera.

  I stood to one side and stooping like a professional he lined her up. The Lump never smiled or posed but she stood as tall as she could.

  ‘Can you open your fan?’ asked the American.

  She opened up her fan and held it in front of her. The man took one picture and then another. And then cellphones raised as more people came to capture the image. And then I thought about the photographs on Grandmother’s wall. And how, in a hundred years’ time, the Lump might be on someone’s wall. And the people would look back to this period and wonder who she was and where she came from. Well, she was my cousin and I was proud of her.

  I put my arm through hers, and passing the trees we crossed the wide pedestrian footbridge that led to Takashimaya Times Square, a huge building that sold everything from camping gear to designer clothes. But we weren’t interested in shopping. We took the outside elevator to the top, and as we rose the Lump put her head to the glass. She watched the trains, and the terrace, and the people who shrunk to the size of ants. Then the bell for the doors chimed and we stepped out on to a floor filled with fancy restaurants.

  It was a nice place with big couches and balconies and rooftop walkways. And I knew the Lump would like it, and she did. She smiled as we strolled around, but she barely looked at the restaurants, even though we were there to eat.

  ‘What about this place?’ I asked.

  It was a steak place that my mother had taken me to one time. It had soft lights and candles on the tables and they served the steaks with knives and forks. We went inside and got shown to a table by the window. The smiling waiter pulled back the chair so the Lump could sit down. ‘You look very nice,’ he said. And then taking our order he moved away.

  It felt warm and cosy inside and everyone seemed happy. They were mainly couples, talking and laughing. But there were a group of older women as well and they all seemed to be smiling at the Lump.

  ‘Everyone watching,’ she said.

  ‘It’s because you look good,’ I said.

  The Lump was pleased with this, but trying not to show it she looked at the view. It was a great view too. We could see all of Shinjuku’s skyscrapers and tall buildings blazing away in lights, and they seemed to go on forever. I’m not kidding – we could see five miles or more, but they never seemed to end. And they all had these flashing red warning lights at the top to stop the helicopters crashing into them. It was like looking at a thousand red stars. And the whole thing looked like a futuristic city from a scientific world.

  ‘Happy,’ said the Lump in a soft voice. It was like she was talking to herself.

  ‘Me too,’ I said.

  We didn’t say much after that. We didn’t have to. And when the food came the Lump ate slowly and delicately. It wasn’t so important to her any more. Maybe all she wanted was somebody to care for her, and now she’d found three people who did. And that’s not counting the baby.

  When we were finished we had ice cream and then tea. And then we stepped out on to the rooftop terrace and strolled around like we were in a park. The Lump never got bored of the blazing lights. They were magical to her and she watched them as we walked.

  ‘Beautiful!’ she said.

  When it was time to go we strolled back along Shinjuku Terrace and once again we ran the gauntlet of the photographers. The cameras were still flashing as we got into the taxi. It was like we were a pair of celebrities for the night.

  ‘Famous,’ said the Lump.

  I laughed then. And we had a nice drive to the station. I even gave the Lump a bit of a tour. And when the taxi pulled up outside Tokyo station the first people we saw were Yoshe and the baby. ‘I wanted him to say goodbye,’ said Yoshe, ‘but he fell asleep.’

  The Lump put on her rucksack, and leaning into the buggy she kissed him on the cheek. And then she touched his face affectionately. I could see she was sad about leaving him.

  ‘He’ll miss you a lot,’ said Yoshe. ‘We all will.’ She gave the Lump a hug and a kiss. ‘Goodbye, Mikazuki. Come back soon.’

  She handed her a dozen bags from different department stores and of course I knew what was in them. Grandmother might have been as mean as a mountain monkey, but she was always generous with money.

  ‘Bye, Yoshe,’ said the Lump. But then she looked like she didn’t want to go.

  ‘You’d better get going,’ said Yoshe in a gentle way. ‘Don’t want to miss your train.’

  I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘Come on,’ I said.

  I took the shinai, and some of her bags, and we made our way inside. We weaved around the people, and showing the guard her ticket we went through the gate. I heard an announcement for the sleeper train to Sapporo. And looking up at the screen I saw which platform it was leaving from.

  We took the escalator up to the busy platform just in time to see the sleek-bodied bullet train gliding into the station. It was snub-nosed, like a plane, and it seemed to go on for miles. I checked the Lump’s ticket and we scurried around the piles of luggage to get to her co
mpartment.

  ‘Well, this is it,’ I said.

  I gave her the bags, and going inside she put them above her seat. I looked down the platform, at all the people who were saying goodbye. They seemed happy, but I wasn’t because I knew she didn’t want to go. And I didn’t want her to go either. But I tried to smile when she came out and I handed her the shinai, which I’d wrapped in gift paper.

  ‘You can beat those kids with it if they try to bully you.’

  The Lump looked worried then.

  Suddenly I was seething! ‘Hey, you tell those kids if they go near you I’ll—’

  ‘Do no harm,’ said the Lump. And then she got on the train.

  Was that it? She wasn’t going to say goodbye? I could see her putting the shinai on the seat and then she took something from her rucksack. I looked at the clock. Only two minutes left! She’d have to get off now if she wanted to say goodbye! I was relieved when she did. She opened a silver tin containing homemade cards, every one a different colour. And she frowned as she looked at them as though wondering what colour to give me. It was a difficult decision.

  ‘For you,’ she said, and handed me an orange card. It said her full name: Mikazuki Mia Takeda. And her cell number was below.

  We just stood there then, feeling a little shy. The Lump wasn’t much of a talker and I was lost for words. And so I knelt down in front of her and we hugged. ‘I’ll call you. I promise.’

  ‘Best friend, Yukio!’ said the Lump.

  When we heard the whistle she got on the train and sat by the window. There was a chiming sound to indicate that the doors would close and then they did.