by Jeremy Bates
My thoughts turned to Nina. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had known those photographs of her were on her camera, she hadn’t forgotten about them, and she had wanted me to see them.
But why?
A fantasy played out in my head. Nina and me back where we’d smoked the joint. She hands me the camera and I see the pictures of her. This time, however, I mention them.
“What do you think, Ethan?” she asks.
“You have a nice body.”
“Do you like my breasts?”
“They’re nice.”
“Do you want to see them for real?”
At this point she stands up and leads me deeper into the trees, where we begin undressing each other. Only when I take off her clothes I find a dry, rotting body, nothing but bones jutting through saggy, grayish skin…
I snapped open my eyes. I had been drifting off to sleep, passing through that murky world where you’re awake but not awake. Although I was staring into darkness, I was seeing the body of the hanging man. A cold, clammy, almost paralyzing sensation overwhelmed me, as if death had followed me into the tent. I wanted to hold Mel, feel her body, her warmth, her presence. But I couldn’t. We were in a stupid fight about nonexistent infidelity.
I closed my eyes again and rolled onto my side.
Morning couldn’t come quickly enough.
CHAPTER 15
We were in the communal kitchen of the Shinagawa guesthouse. I was at the stove, cooking breakfast for Gary and me. The eggs in the frying pan were scrambled, how Gary liked them, the bacon extra crispy. Gary was seated at the table: dark curls, straight nose, gold-flecked green eyes. He was dressed in his white-and-maroon Hershey Bears hockey uniform, a captain “C” on the front of his jersey, his number 14 on the back. He even had his skates on, rubber guards protecting the blades. Getting dressed at home before a game or practice was something we had done as kids. It had given our father, who was regularly hungover on weekend mornings, some extra time to sleep in.
“Why are you already dressed, Gare?” I asked him. “You haven’t done that since house league.”
“I have practice this morning, bud.”
“But why not dress at the arena?”
He frowned. “Because I’m late.”
“Who cares? It’s just practice.”
“No, bud. I’m late for something else.”
“For what?”
“I have an appointment to keep.”
“What appointment?”
His frown deepened: sadness or fear, I couldn’t tell. “I can’t talk about it.” He stood. “Thanks for breakfast. I have to get going.”
A terminal dread filled me, because I knew wherever he was going he wasn’t coming back. “Wait! Gare! You haven’t eaten your breakfast yet. At least stay for breakfast.”
“Don’t burn the eggs, bud.”
Then he was gone. I stared at where he had been, willing him to come back. Nina appeared instead, from the hallway, and made her way to the shower stall that was off the kitchen, near the coin-operated washing machines. A navy T-shirt fluttered loosely over her body, ending halfway down her thighs.
“Good morning, Ethan,” she greeted.
“Hey, Nina,” I said, cheering up. “You missed my brother, Gary.” I wished she could have met Gary.
“Oh, that is too bad.”
“Do you want breakfast? I have extra.”
“Toast is okay. Where is your girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. Mel didn’t sleep in our room. I should have been more concerned—she never went somewhere overnight without telling me—but I wasn’t. I knew she was still angry at the whole Shelly thing, and I didn’t want to deal with any of that right then.
“You should marry her, Ethan.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready?”
“I’m not sure.”
Nina disappeared into the shower cubicle. The water rumbled through the building’s old pipes. I was alone once more.
I stirred the eggs and turned the bacon. Then I stuck two pieces of white bread in the toaster. Whole-wheat bread was about as hard to find in Japan as real mayonnaise, or toothpaste with fluoride.
Nina began calling me. She needed a towel.
I fetched one from my room and rapped on the shower door with my knuckles.
“It is unlocked.”
I opened it. There was a small vestibule where you can change and the shower stall itself. Nina stood beneath the needle spray in a white bikini. I hung the towel on the clothes hook.
“Are you surprised?” she asked me.
“About what?”
“That I have a swimming costume on.”
“No,” I said, though I was—and disappointed.
“Do you want me to take it off?”
Steam billowed around her. I could feel the humidity.
“Your toast should be ready.”
“Goodbye, Ethan.”
I remained there for a moment, not wanting to leave, but she was ignoring me. I closed the door and went back to the stove. I topped one plate with bacon and eggs, the other with two slices of toast.
Nina emerged from the shower. The towel I’d given her was wrapped around her body. When she sat down at the table, it slipped down her torso and bunched at her waist. She was no longer wearing the bikini. She didn’t seem to notice or care that her breasts were exposed, and I felt a sense of déjà vu. Once again, however, I chose not to say anything. As we ate, she told me about the time in India when she was almost raped. Halfway into her story I heard something on the other side of the sliding glass door that opened onto a balcony. The drapes were drawn and I couldn’t see out. The noise continued. It sounded like footsteps. Like someone walking on dry leaves.
“Are you going to see who is there?” Nina asked me.
I was frozen with indecision. What if it was Mel? If she saw Nina sitting half naked at the table with me, she would surely lose it. Still, I felt compelled to check.
I stood and opened the door—
I snapped awake again, reliving the last moments of the dream. The guesthouse kitchen. Gary. Nina. Mel—had she been at the door? I never had a chance to see. As the immediacy of the dream faded I remembered where I was.
I had rolled against Mel during the night, so we were spooning, my right arm draped over her side. Either she was too deep asleep and wasn’t aware of my transgression, or she’d noticed at some point but didn’t care. I hoped it was the latter.
I heard a noise outside the tent and stiffened with alarm.
Was that what had woken me?
I remained perfectly still, listening.
Footsteps.
The alarm ballooned into full-out fear.
I sat up. The emergency blanket fell away from me, the vaporized aluminum crackling and making a lot of noise.
Mel didn’t stir. I listened once more, but didn’t hear anything else.
I was about to open the tent flap, though I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
What if it was…what?
A yūrei?
I berated myself for being a twenty-six year old six year old. It was just someone going to urinate. They’d be in the trees now. They’d be returning any minute. I’d hear them as they climbed into their tent.
I lay back down, wickedly alert.
“What are you doing?” Mel asked sleepily.
“I heard something outside.”
“What was it?”
“Someone going to the bathroom, I think.”
She didn’t reply.
One minute slugged toward two, then three, then four.
Perhaps it was not a bladder but a bowel call?
When ten minutes passed, and all remained quiet outside the tent, I began to wonder if I had imagined the sound.
No—I was sure I hadn’t.
Had it been an animal then?
It would have to have been something large.
A bear? A deer?
Mayb
e. But I wasn’t convinced. I had the impression the steps had been taken slowly, with the intention of not making much noise.
Really? You were half asleep. Stop spooking yourself.
I closed my eyes and took my own advice.
CHAPTER 16
Through the haze of sleep I heard Nina calling Ben’s name. I don’t recall how many times she called it, or at what intervals, only that I kept hearing it repeated over and over. For a while I thought I might be dreaming, but reality slowly penetrated my slumber, telling me I should probably get up, something might have happened. Reluctantly I propped myself into a sitting position. It was light out. Not sunny-day bright. The gray, filtered light of another overcast morning.
Mel was not in the tent. I never heard her get up, which meant I must have been pretty out of it. I was surprised by that, because after hearing the footsteps in the middle of the night, I rested only fitfully, kept semi-awake by the conundrum of the footsteps, the hard ground, and the frosty weather. Also, Mel had been tossing and turning and sleep-talking, something she never did. It made me wonder if she’d been having more of those crevice-related nightmares.
I pushed aside the emergency blanket, rubbed my arms for warmth—and noticed that my right hand had swollen even more overnight. The pustules had turned into clear blisters filled with cloudy fluid. They continued to itch terribly, especially the ones along the creases in my palm and between my fingers. Again, however, I refused the temptation to scratch them. If I broke any open, there was a good chance they would become infected out here.
I crawled outside and stood. The forest appeared as bleak and desperately hellish as it had the day before, but I was not so bothered by it. We had gotten through the night, and we were leaving. Hallelujah.
I could see my breath puff before me. The fire was going, and the smoky smell made me feel semi-human. Tomo and Neil sat next to each other. Neil was reading a book—he always had some non-fiction book or another—while Tomo was thumbing through one of his manga comics. He says the stories are sci-fi or horror, but every time I’ve glimpsed a page over his shoulder there’s something traumatizing happening to a busty woman in skimpy clothing.
John Scott was curled up at the base of a nearby tree. He looked bulky, as if he had put on extra clothes beneath his leather jacket. He was using his rucksack as a pillow. I must have walked right past him the night before after leaving Nina.
Mel was twenty yards away, sitting on a rock, her back to us.
“Hey.” I cleared my parched throat. “Morning.”
“Morning, Ethan,” Neil said. “Fancy a cuppa coffee? I’ll put the pot on again.”
I noticed they each had paper cups next to them, filled with black coffee. This kicked my olfactory sense into gear, and suddenly I could smell the rich, strong aroma.
“Would love some.”
Neil set the pot directly on the flames, maneuvering it to keep the black plastic handle from melting. “This is the last of the water unfortunately.”
“We’re not sticking around.”
Tomo pulled his ear buds free. “Hey, man. You sleep so late.”
I checked my wristwatch. “It’s only half past seven.” I glanced at Mel again. Could she hear me? Why wasn’t she turning around?
“You two lovebirds still fighting?” Neil asked, shaking instant coffee into a cup.
“Think so.”
“Because you pussy guy,” Tomo said.
“Because Mel and I got in an argument?”
“Yeah, and you run to trees and cry like girl. You gotta be man, right? Tell her you talk any bitch you want.”
“Thanks for the advice, Snoop.”
“You know it.”
Nina called Ben’s name again from somewhere in the trees.
“What’s going on with Ben?” I asked.
Neil shrugged. “He hasn’t been around since we woke up.”
I frowned. Where did he go? For a walk—without telling Nina or anyone else?
“You think we should help Nina look?” I said.
“No need to panic,” Neil said. “We’ll sort out what’s going on when she comes back.” He poured boiling water into the cup and handed it to me, which I accepted, pinching it by the rim so as not to scald my fingers. “Meanwhile,” he added, nodding past me toward Mel, “you have your own problems to suss out, don’t you think?”
Mel didn’t say anything as I sat on a rock close to hers. I set my coffee beside me.
“Hey,” I said with false normalcy.
“Hey,” she said.
“What time did you get up?”
“Fifteen minutes ago maybe.”
“Have you eaten anything?”
“Tea.”
“That’s not eating.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I think there’s some nuts—”
“I’m not hungry, Ethan.”
We sat in silence. The morning air was not only frosty but damp as well. The fragrant smell of dead leaves perfumed the air.
“Listen, Mel, this Shelly stuff, it’s such a dumb thing to get upset over.”
She looked at me. “Are you calling me dumb?”
“What?”
“I think lying about calls from an ex-girlfriend is a big thing. You think lying about calls from an ex-girlfriend is a dumb thing. So are you calling me dumb for thinking it’s a big thing?”
I clenched my jaw. “No.”
“Well?”
“It’s been blown out of proportion, that’s all.”
“Benjamin!” It was Nina again. She sounded closer than before.
“Look,” I said. “It’s not helping us any putting this off—”
“John and I slept together,” she said abruptly.
I blinked, not thinking I’d heard her correctly. But that passed in a flash, and a wave of red-hot jealousy swept through me. “When?” I asked quietly.
“In college. He was on leave from the Army, visiting friends at UCLA. I ran into him at a bar.”
“And you took him home?”
She didn’t say anything.
“And after that?” I said. “Did you see him again?”
“No. He went back to the base he was stationed at. It was my senior year. I returned to St. Helena a couple months later. Then I came here.”
I let this revelation sink in. It was infuriating to hear, and I had to tell myself she hadn’t done anything wrong. It happened before I knew her. If I hadn’t met John Scott on this trip, I wouldn’t have cared less. Then again, I had met John Scott. He was on this trip. What the fuck was that all about?
“Have you seen him since you’ve been in Japan?” I asked.
“No.”
“Never?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think you should have at least said something to me about this history between you two?”
“Please, Ethan, like you ever told me anything about Shelly and you.”
“There’s nothing going on!” I snapped. “Nothing!”
“And there’s nothing going on between John and I.”
“He’s here now, Mel. He’s fucking camping with us. Do you see Shelly anywhere?”
“I can’t be friends with my ex’s?”
“You could have told me we were going to be spending the weekend with one of them.”
“Well, now you know.” She stood. “I’m going to get more tea.”
“Wait—I want to talk about this.”
“I don’t, Ethan. I need time to think things over.”
My chest tightened. Think things over? I didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded like something you say when you’re contemplating breaking up.
“Think what over?” I asked.
“Things, Ethan. Things.”
She left.
I remained where I was, trying to make sense of what Mel had told me. So she and John Scott had gotten together. I didn’t like it, but whatever. It happened in the past. But why had she invited him to climb Mt. Fuji? An
d why hadn’t she told me about her history with him? Why the secrecy? Was this her way of getting back at me? She had known about Shelly’s messages for a while now. She’d suspected, albeit erroneously, that a spark had rekindled between us. So when John Scott had called her up, looking for something to do in Tokyo, had she invited him to climb Fuji with the sole intent of making me jealous? Had she kept silent about their history, knowing I would inevitably find out? Had she, in fact, gotten in touch with him, not the other way around?
Talk about some sick twisted shit.
Was Mel really capable of that?
And what the hell was that pseudo threat of breaking up all about? No way she could be serious. It was a bluff, a phase. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d caught Shelly and me in bed together. That might have been a cause for something as drastic as breaking up. This was just a couple text messages, a misunderstanding.
Well, screw it, I thought. If Mel wanted to prance around with John Scott to make me jealous, fine. If she wanted to threaten breaking up to make a point, fine. I wasn’t going to get sucked into these stupid games.
In the distance I caught a flash of Nina’s yellow jacket among the green foliage. She saw me and waved. I waved back. She came over and sat on the rock Mel had been sitting on. Her face was flushed and she was breathing hard, from anger or exertion I wasn’t sure.
“Ben is gone,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you hear?”
“Was he in your tent when you went to sleep last night?”
“Yes, he was there. He wanted to talk, talk, talk, about nothing. I was tired. I told him this. He got restless and left the tent. I went to sleep.”
“What time was that?”
“An hour after you left me. Why, Ethan?”
“I thought I heard someone walking around outside the tents last night.”
“So?”
“So nothing. I’m just trying to piece things together.”
“Who was it?”
“If not Ben, I’m guessing someone who needed to relieve themselves.”