“Three days from now, I’ll take the bus to Nagasaki,” Mitsuyo said, letting herself sway back and forth with the motion of the car, a lulling feeling she was already used to.
“I finish work at six,” Yuichi said, pulling up close to the car in front.
“I have the day off, so I was thinking of going in the morning and doing a little sightseeing by myself. It’s been years since I’ve been in Nagasaki.… Last year my sister and I went to the Huis Ten Bosch theme park, though.”
“I wish I could show you around.…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll just eat some champon, go see the cathedrals.…”
It usually took fifteen minutes by bike to go home but at the speed Yuichi drove, it took only three. As he did the last time, Yuichi steered his car down the unpaved path right up to the apartment building.
“Darn it—my sister’s home.” Mitsuyo looked up to the second-floor window, where the light was on. “I wish we had more time,” she added in a low voice, and as she did Yuichi’s dry lips covered hers again.
“Drive carefully,” she said. Yuichi nodded, lips still glued to hers. For a second it seemed as if he wanted to say something more, so she pulled away a bit. But he just looked down and was silent.
Mitsuyo watched as the car pulled away down the dirt path. When he came out on the paved road he beeped his horn once and shot away.
I’m so lonely, she thought. I can’t wait to see him again. Mitsuyo stood there watching until his rear lights disappeared.
She remembered how when Tamayo was going out with a guy who was a hairdresser, she’d said the very same thing. That she was so lonely. That she couldn’t wait to see him again. At the time, Mitsuyo couldn’t understand her feelings, but now she did. She understood, and wondered how anyone could stand it. She wanted to run after his car—or fall to the ground and cry her eyes out. If she could only be with Yuichi, anything was possible.
Yuichi wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Mitsuyo’s figure in the rearview mirror, waving goodbye, had disappeared. At an intersection near the on-ramp to the highway, he had to stop for a red light. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and saw he had less than five thousand yen. If Mitsuyo had agreed to go to a hotel, he would have had to take the surface streets home, no matter how late that made him. Fortunately she’d been worried about his job, so he still had enough money to take the highway.
He’d been dying to see her. Although they’d only met a few days ago, he was scared to death the relationship would end. At night, no matter how long he talked with her on the phone, he couldn’t rid himself of this fear. As soon as he hung up he couldn’t stand it, convinced he’d never see her again. When he slept, he dreamed she was gone. As soon as he woke up in the morning he wanted to call her, but hesitated since it was five a.m.; he thought about her all day long at work. By the end of the day today, he couldn’t stand it, and before he knew what he was doing, he was heading toward Saga. Maybe he’d already made an unconscious decision to do just that, which is why he took his car to work instead of riding in his uncle’s van.
The red light seemed to take forever, and Yuichi pounded the steering wheel. If another car hadn’t been right beside him, he would have slammed his forehead against it in frustration.
When I was little, he recalled, before Mom took me to live with my grandparents and we were still living in an apartment in the city, she said she’d take me out to see my father, and I was so happy getting ready, and riding the streetcar together. “When we get to the station we’ll transfer to a train,” she explained. I asked her, “Is it far?” and she said, “Way far away.”
In the crowded streetcar, she clung to the strap. And I held on to her skirt. When the streetcar started to move, some men seated in front of us began to elbow each other and laugh. They were laughing at my mom, who’d forgotten to shave her underarms. Mom turned all red and hid her underarm with a handkerchief. It was a hot day. The packed streetcar lurched to one side and her handkerchief slipped off and the men tried to keep from laughing.
We got to the JR station and transferred to a train. Trying so hard to hide her underarm on the lurching streetcar had left Mom covered in sweat. As we were waiting at the crowded ticket counter to buy our tickets, I said, “I’m sorry” to her. Mom looked at me vacantly, her head tilted. “It’s so hot, isn’t it?” she said. She smiled, and wiped my sweaty nose with that handkerchief.
A car horn blaring behind him brought Yuichi back to the present. He accelerated abruptly and his body, clinging hard to the steering wheel, was snapped back against the seat. He was so distracted he didn’t merge into the highway but went straight over the overpass.
He slowed down to do a U-turn and switched on the radio to get his mind on other things. The local news was on. Yuichi did a huge U-turn, and the on-ramp to the highway loomed closer.
“In another story, in the case of the murder that took place just after midnight on the tenth of this month at Mitsuse Pass, the twenty-two-year-old man police have been searching for as a material witness has been found. Last night a clerk at a sauna in Nagoya contacted police, who immediately took the man into custody. He has been transferred back to Fukuoka, where police are questioning him about the incident. As we get more details, we will update this story on the eleven o’clock news.”
The news ended and an insurance commercial came on. Yuichi steered back, away from the highway on-ramp, and stepped on the gas. He cut in front of another car and the driver blared his horn. Yuichi sped up more, overtaking another car. Finally he slowed down and pulled off the road, coming to a stop in front of a vending machine.
A nostalgic Christmas song was playing on the radio now. Yuichi switched stations but couldn’t find any more news about the murder at Mitsuse Pass. He held on to the steering wheel, even though his car was stopped. A huge truck roared past, the blast of air rocking his car.
Yuichi shook the steering wheel, but no matter how much he tried, it didn’t move an inch. He tried again, but the harder he tried to shake it, the more his own body shook back and forth.
They’d captured the guy. The guy who’d been trying to escape. They’d arrested that guy who’d taken Yoshino Ishibashi to Mitsuse Pass. He found himself muttering these words, and as he did, for some reason he pictured again the scene, years ago, when he and his mother had gone to see his father. The men on the streetcar chuckling at her hairy armpit. Standing at the crowded ticket window and his mother’s face as she wiped the sweat from his nose. Why that day would come back to him now, he had no idea. But he couldn’t erase the images from his mind.
We took the streetcar to the JR station, Yuichi recalled, where we boarded a train. Mom had me sit down at a window seat, and she sat next me, dozing.
Just after Dad left, Mom used to cry every night. When I got lonely and sat down beside her she’d stroke my head and say, “Let’s just forget about anything sad, okay? Let’s just totally forget about it,” crying even more loudly than before.
From the window I could see the ocean. I was sitting on the mountain side of the car and on the other side, the ocean side, were two elementary school brothers wearing caps, traveling with their parents. When I leaned over to catch a glimpse of the sea, my mom woke up and said, “Sit down. It’s dangerous,” pushing my head down. “Once we get there, you can see the ocean as much as you like.”
I don’t know how much longer we were riding after that, but all of a sudden I dozed off like her.
“We’re getting off now,” she said, grabbing my arm, and I stumbled off the train still half asleep. We left the station, walked for a while, and arrived at a ferryboat dock.
“We’re going to take the ferry and go over there,” my mom said, pointing to the other shore.
In the parking lot of the dock there was a line of cars. “They’re all going to go on the ferryboat with us,” my mom told me.
Just like she’d told me on the train, there was the ocean, right in front of me. And way off on the far shor
e was a lighthouse. The first one I’d ever seen.
Yuichi’s cell phone rang. He was still sitting in the car by the side of the road, hands tightly clasping the steering wheel. Trucks continued to roar by right next to him, the air blast lifting his car up each time they passed.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. The caller ID said Home. When he answered it, it was his grandmother, sounding a bit hesitant and timid.
“Yu—Yuichi? Where are you?”
It sounded like somebody was right beside her, and she was checking with that person as she spoke.
“What d’you want to know for?” Yuichi asked.
“The—the police are here.” She tried her best to sound upbeat, but her voice was trembling. “Where are you? Can you come back soon?”
Another truck roared past. Yuichi hung up, and almost reflexively his fingers began to move on the keypad.
Is that right? So Yuichi still remembers that time? … He must have been five, or maybe six then.… I was sure he’d forgotten all about it. As I told you before, after Yuichi started working for me I treated him even more like a son. He’s really gotten good at his job these days, and was even thinking of getting a crane operator’s license.
If you think about it, that was how he came to live with his grandfather and grandmother. Really? So Yuichi still thinks he was going to see his father that day? That’s pretty sad. What happened was, that was the day his mother abandoned him.
I don’t know what Yuichi told you, but back then his mother was at the end of her rope. Everybody told her she shouldn’t get involved with that worthless guy, but she ignored them and did it anyway. Things went okay until Yuichi was born, but before three years were up the guy ran off and left them. I’m not trying to take her side or anything, but she did get a job in a nightclub and thought she could make a go of raising Yuichi. But things never work out that easy, do they? Working in a place like that, she took up with another bad guy, who spent all her money, and she got sick.… She should have called her home for help, but she couldn’t. So she ended up alone, with no one she could rely on.…
So anyway, his mother was desperate. She lied to Yuichi, telling him they were going to see his father, even though she had no idea where the guy was.
She abandoned Yuichi there at the ferry dock that day. He sat there, waiting, all alone, until the next morning. She said she was just going to buy their tickets, and ran away, but what she did was hide behind the pillars of the pier until morning.
The next morning, when one of the ferry workers found him, Yuichi refused to budge. “My mom told me to wait here!” he said, and actually bit the guy on the arm.
Apparently as she left his mother told him, “See that lighthouse over there? Just look at that lighthouse. I’ll go buy our tickets and be right back.”
His mother got in touch a week later. She said she felt like she was going to die, but I don’t buy it. So after that, Yuichi was taken over by Child Protective Services and Juvenile Court, but his grandparents took him to live with them, and not long after that his mother took up with another man and disappeared.
The whole parent-child relationship is a strange thing if you think about it.
Just around the time Yuichi started to work for me, the topic came up and I asked him if his mother had ever contacted him. His grandfather was doing poorly around then, and I figured if things turned out bad I should be able to get ahold of her to let her know about the funeral. It was just a thought I had that I blurted out.
I was positive that after she took up with that last guy there’d been no word from her. I asked his grandparents and they told me, “She sends us a New Year’s card every couple of years. Each time it’s a different address.… Probably she’s with a different man each time.”
I asked Yuichi if she ever got in touch. He shook his head and I thought that was the end of it. But then he added, “If it’s about Grandpa’s condition, I already told her.”
“You told her? You mean … you have kept in touch with her?”
“We go out to eat sometimes.”
“What do you mean by sometimes?”
“Once a year, maybe.”
“Do your grandparents know about this?”
“No, they don’t,” Yuichi replied, shaking his head. His grandpa took great pride in the fact that he’d raised Yuichi, so it must have been hard for Yuichi to say anything about it.
“Don’t you get angry when you meet her?” I said this without thinking. I mean, look, his mother abandoned him there at the ferryboat dock, without anything to eat, and he ended up stuck with his grandparents.
But Yuichi said, “No, I’m not angry. I don’t see her enough to get angry.”
“Where is she now, and what’s she doing?” I asked.
“She works at an inn, in Unzen.” This was about three or four years ago.
Apparently he’s driven over a few times to see her. “What do the two of you talk about?” I asked.
“Nothing much.”
I know I can’t forgive his mother for what she did. I can still picture Yuichi at the ferry dock, abandoned. It’s not just me. His grandfather and grandmother, and the other relatives, feel the same way. But this parent-child relationship really is strange, isn’t it? None of us forgave her, but Yuichi did.
After seeing Yuichi off, Mitsuyo sat for a while on the staircase outside her apartment. The hard concrete chilled her backside, and from an apartment on the first floor, she could hear a young man soothing a baby.
Finally she couldn’t stand the cold so she headed back to her apartment on the second floor. She opened the door and called out, “I’m back!”
Tamayo, from the bathroom, called out, “You had to work overtime?”
“Uh, yeah,” Mitsuyo answered, and took off her shoes. She went down the hallway to the living room, where she saw a plate on the table. It looked like Tamayo had been eating stew.
“Did you make this yourself?” she asked, turning toward the bathroom, but there was no response.
She slid open the door to her small bedroom. Yuichi must be on the highway already, she thought. She found herself next to the window, pulling aside the lace curtain. A stray cat loped across the spot where she and Yuichi had said goodbye. Just then a car pulled off the main road at a high speed, almost spinning out as it headed in her direction. The cat, about to scurry toward the garbage cans, was illuminated in the bluish headlights.
Mitsuyo instinctively clasped her hands together. “Watch out!” she said to herself. The car came to a halt, just shy of hitting the plastic garbage cans. The cat, shrunk back in the headlights, scampered away.
“Yuichi?”
The car that had skidded to a halt there was definitely his. The headlights illuminated the empty space where the stray cat had been.
Mitsuyo closed the curtains and raced to the front door. She was in such a hurry she couldn’t get her heels into her shoes. As she grabbed her bag, Tamayo called out, “Where are you going?” Mitsuyo didn’t reply and ran out of the apartment.
From the staircase she could see Yuichi inside the dark car, head down against the steering wheel. The car’s headlights shone on the filthy garbage cans. As she ran down the stairs she came to an abrupt stop. Was this all a hallucination? she suddenly wondered. Did I want to see him so much I’m having a hallucination?
Still, as she slowly approached, the gravel crunched under her feet. She rapped on the window with her fingers and as she did Yuichi bolted upright. What’s the matter? she wordlessly mouthed. Yuichi’s eyes as they followed her lips looked like they were gazing at something else, something far away.
Mitsuyo rapped on the glass again, asking with her eyes again the same question, What’s the matter? As if in reply, Yuichi looked away. She tapped the window once more, and Yuichi, clutching the steering wheel, eyes down, slowly opened the door. Mitsuyo took a step back.
Without a word he got out of the car and stood in front of her. Looking up at him, Mitsuyo again as
ked, “What’s wrong?”
A car rushed by on the main road; the weeds along the road whipped in the blast of air. Yuichi suddenly grabbed her and held her tight. It was so quick that Mitsuyo let out a short cry.
“I wish I’d met you earlier,” he said as he held her against his chest. “If I’d met you earlier, none of this would have happened.…”
“What do you mean?”
“Please get in the car, okay?”
“Huh?”
“Get in the car!” Yuichi suddenly said roughly, and grabbed Mitsuyo’s arm, pulling her around to the passenger side.
“What is going on?” Mitsuyo tried to pull away, her heels digging into the gravel.
“Just get in!”
Almost holding her under his arm, Yuichi opened the passenger door. With both doors open, the wind rushed through, carrying out the heated air from inside.
“Wait—wait a second!” Mitsuyo said, resisting. She didn’t mind so much getting in the car, but she wanted to know why.
“What is up with you? Tell me!”
As he pressed her down, Mitsuyo grabbed his wrist. After his harsh words, and the rough treatment, Mitsuyo was surprised to feel his trembling wrist feel so frail.
Yuichi shoved her inside, slammed the door shut, and hurried around to the driver’s side. He almost tumbled inside and, breathing raggedly, he released the parking brake. The tires sprayed gravel as he shot down the path. He roared past the vacant lot in front of the apartment building and turned sharply to the left. As he turned, he nearly crashed into a car coming from the opposite direction, and Mitsuyo screamed.
They barely missed the other car and sped down the dark path through the rice fields.
Fusae turned off the light in the bedroom, sat up in her futon, and, without making a sound, crawled over toward the window. With a trembling hand she parted the curtain a bit. Outside the window was a cinder-block wall with a few blocks missing, and through the holes she could see the narrow road in front. The patrol car that had been outside was gone now. Instead, a black car was parked there, and in the light from inside the car she could see a young plainclothes detective talking on a cell phone.
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