by Unknown
Looking back, I wonder if I was just tired. Working too hard had dulled my instincts—my survival instincts. I took Matsuoka’s advice and filed it away.
Soon after I saw Matsuoka, the resistant strain—the one the government assured the public would be confined to Kyushu—made the jump to the Kansai region.
There were different theories as to how the parasite could have traveled so far. Maybe the wind carried the spores into the upper atmosphere, or it came in on infected birds. Maybe the spores piggybacked out on something taken from the zone. All of these theories were at least plausible, and all of them suggested that further outbreaks were just a matter of time. The fact that Kansai’s number came up first was pure chance.
But that was all it took. My parents and sister were soon infected, and my work didn’t qualify me for a pass into the zone. My mother and father called every day, pleading for me to at least find a way to get Erika out. She’s your sister. Isn’t there anything you can do? The hospitals in the new quarantine zone were overflowing. Most of the infected were told to stay put and wait for treatment. My parents and sister had all the early symptoms of the disease.
I tried every trick I could think of to get them a hospital berth, but the higher up the chain I went, the more I was dealing with people who knew just how bad things were going to get. No special treatment. They shut the door in my face.
Then one day the calls from home stopped. Now there was a quarantine on information as well. I was out of my mind with fear. I fought with my wife constantly. They were going to burn my parents and sister alive. I could barely sleep for the nightmares.
Soon after the mass cremations began, I got a call from someone identifying himself as a member of the Health Ministry’s Auri Disease Response Headquarters. I nearly lost it right there—they were getting back to me now? But what the caller said next changed everything.
“It would be unofficial, of course, but I can get you into the zone. You won’t be able to take anything out, but if you’d like to see your home one more time, I can arrange it.”
That was how I met Yuji Mimura.
I soon discovered that, in fact, he and Erika had been planning to marry. They had been seeing each other for three years. Just before they had a chance to tell my parents, Auricularia erupted in Mikage. Mimura knew my sister must already be dead, but he was sure she had left a farewell message. He wanted to go to the house and find out.
He was dead calm about the whole thing, the calm that comes after doing everything you can to save your fiancée, after seeing every attempt fail and losing all hope, after more tears were impossible. I immediately felt a bond with him. I asked him what he liked about my sister.
“Maybe that she was a bit like me, and then again not. When we talked, it felt like a window opening in my heart, like she was showing me the window was there. What kind of person was Erika to you?”
“She was a handful. She didn’t treat me like her older brother. I couldn’t box her ears or yell at her, so I was the one who ended up crying in secret. When we were kids, people used to say they couldn’t tell which one of us was older.”
“She must’ve been tougher than I thought.”
“You saw what she wanted you to. Once you were married, I’m sure the real Erika would’ve come out.”
Mimura chuckled drily. “I wish I could’ve seen that. But now she’s gone forever.”
My old neighborhood was down as having been decontaminated, but we still couldn’t go in without hazmat suits. “I guess that means we won’t see any ghosts,” I said to Mimura.
“Are you afraid?” He sounded suspicious.
“Not in the beginning. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Even if we run into them, they’re basically harmless.”
Mimura didn’t seem to catch my drift. I casually asked about his background and discovered that he’d never worked on a decontamination crew. His only experience in the zone was tagging along on a single inspection with his boss. That would explain why he didn’t seem very concerned about encountering ghosts.
If Matsuoka was right, I had a feeling I knew what I’d see and hear when the toxin started affecting me. When the time came to face what was inside me, would I be able to handle it?
Mimura said he could get us into the zone if we pretended to be gathering data. We would not have much time, two or three hours at most. Still, that would be more than enough to reach my parents’ house if we entered at the closest checkpoint.
Mimura was determined to go whether or not he could get official permission, and it was partly his determination that made me decide to go along. Something told me that seeing the house one last time would give me the closure I needed and finally put an end to the nightmares.
As we came closer to the house, we kept seeing ghosts. Now they were less distinct, but life-size apparitions still stared at us from the shadows like translucent dolls. Maybe the toxin was unevenly distributed.
“There are too many for my liking,” I said to Mimura. “Are you sure this area was decontaminated?”
“Maybe it’s a good environment for Auricularia. A lot of these houses have gardens. In damp locations, the mushroom might not need a body to feed on.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“Are you telling me we should go back? After coming this far?”
“I didn’t say that.” I just didn’t like what I was seeing. Being prepared for trouble seemed prudent. But this wasn’t the time or the place to start arguing. I gave up and kept my mouth shut.
Finally we reached the house. It seemed untouched, as if nothing had happened. I was afraid we might find it broken into or vandalized, but the big kumquat tree and the nandina bush were just as I remembered them. Everything looked so peaceful. I felt tears welling up.
“Is this the first time you’ve been here?” I asked Mimura.
“Yes. I wish I could take something to remember, but the quarantine …”
“I’ve heard that people smuggle ashes out of the crematoria. You know those companies that will process the ashes into diamonds? They’re doing it for people who’ve lost relatives, secretly of course. I don’t know how they get into the zones, though.”
“Thieves come in late at night. They break into houses and take anything valuable. It’s not that hard to get in if you really want to. I doubt they’re very careful about sterilizing their gear afterward. That’s probably how the spores escaped.”
The front door lock was broken. A decontamination crew had likely gone in to collect the bodies.
Memories came at me in waves as I stepped through the door. After moving to Tokyo, my wife and I still visited a few times a year with the kids. I yearned to walk down the hall onto the tatami in my stocking feet. That was impossible if I wanted to survive, but it still pained me to trample the floor in my shoes. My parents had had the house renovated only recently.
The first-floor kitchen and guest room were tidy and spotless. It seemed as if all I had to do was call and my family would appear. I wanted to see the living room, but Mimura insisted that we go to Erika’s room right away. We headed for the stairs.
The stairway, which had seemed so narrow in childhood, was wider now. A handrail had been installed and nonslip rubber laid down. As we climbed, Mimura called out and pointed. When I looked up, my breath caught in my throat.
My parents and sister were at the top of the stairs. Their faces were glowing with happiness and love. They looked nothing like the ghouls we had seen on the way.
“Erika …” Mimura whispered, his hand frozen on the handrail. I pushed past and rushed to the top of the stairs. As I reached out to them, the specters faded and disappeared, merging with the air.
An aroma penetrated to the back of my throat, elusive but sweet, almost refreshing, like a single drop of mint oil vaporizing in a pan of hot taffy. An aroma from childhood …
> Mimura was rooted to the spot, staring at where the vision had been. “Can you still see them?” I asked.
“Them … ?”
“My parents and sister.”
“I only saw Erika. Your parents weren’t there.”
Only Erika? But of course. Mimura had never met my parents. There was no way he could see them as ghosts. “What did you see happen?”
“You and Erika overlapped for a second. Then she was gone. Are they still there?”
“No, they’re gone. Come on up. Let’s check her room.”
I opened the door. The room was fairly large and just as tidy as the first floor. Mimura went quickly to her bookcase. He started pulling albums and diaries off the shelves and leafing through them impatiently. His gloves made the task difficult. His impatience was mixed with irritation. He looked like a thief racing the clock. I found myself studying the wallpaper.
Finally he found what he was looking for. He called out and thrust a notebook toward me. Tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn’t wipe them off, so they stayed glistening on his cheeks.
“I found it.” Mimura’s voice was hoarse. “They left messages for both of us.” I took the notebook and my eyes fell on the page.
Father, Mother, and Erika had each left messages. There was nothing dramatic. We’re sorry we’ll never see you again, but you must go on living …
I handed the notebook back to Mimura. He clutched it to his chest, dropped to his knees, and hunched over crying. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come in time. Please forgive me.”
I stared at him in a daze. Maybe this whole thing had been a mistake. True, I wanted to come here, but this was only making the agony worse. More tears wouldn’t change anything.
I stepped into the hall. As I was about to go downstairs, I saw an apparition standing in front of the door to the other room.
It was my father.
He was wearing a traditional black half-coat. Slowly, he raised a hand and beckoned. I rushed toward him and he disappeared.
I hesitated at the door. Why summon me here?
There were two upstairs rooms. This one had been mine. After I left it had become a guest room. My wife and I used it when we visited with the kids.
I tugged the handle. The sliding door wouldn’t budge. It felt like something was gumming up the runners. Whatever it was, the door was stuck fast, as if something didn’t want me inside.
Since it wouldn’t open, of course I had to know what was inside.
Basic reasoning told me this was dangerous. Seeing ghosts in a house that had been emptied of bodies meant the mushrooms must have found something else to feed on—the cat my parents had been keeping, uneaten food, maybe garbage no one would collect. If there was protein, the toxin was probably active. This house, and my parents and sister, had pushed everything out of my mind. Seeing their “ghosts” didn’t need much explanation.
Yet somehow I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I remembered what Matsuoka had said: Humans are a contradictory species. Fear makes us curious. He was right. Far back in my mind an alarm was sounding, but I couldn’t tear myself away.
I pulled harder. Suddenly Mimura was there too. He took hold of the handle with me. He wasn’t crying now. We both gave the door a hard shove.
It slid open with a loud bang. A white cloud billowed out of the room. I sensed immediately that it was spores and automatically stepped back. The aroma of molten taffy and mint was overpowering, but the sight of what was stretched out on the floor seemed to stab through my eyeballs. Mimura’s screaming was sharp against my ears.
The three beds laid out on the floor were carpeted with mushrooms—brown, flecked with white, almost translucent, like deformed ears or the lips of devils ready to exhale more evil.
My head and neck went numb. I didn’t need to get closer to know what I was looking at.
My father and mother. Erika. Why hadn’t the crew taken them away? Why had they abandoned the bodies to become a banquet for the parasite? Was there a miscommunication? Were they just too busy to handle it?
Or was it something else?
Left here in this room, the three corpses had become seedbeds for the parasite. The mushrooms had fed and fed, spewing spores into the confined space, enough to jam the door shut.
The ghosts of my father, mother, and Erika stood on their beds. Mother was wearing a lilac cotton robe. Erika wore a white dress patterned with sunflowers, a favorite from some vanished summer. All of them were calling to me: “Takashi … Takashi …” Father smiled. “You’re finally here. We’ve been waiting. Come now, quickly.”
Mimura stumbled toward the beds. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.
“No. It’s a trap.”
“Erika says she’s happy that I’m here.” He was almost in tears. “I can hear her. ‘I’m so happy you’re here. It was worth the wait.’ ”
“What are you talking about? I don’t hear anything.”
“I’m staying. I can read Erika’s diary and look at her photo albums. I can hear her voice. I didn’t know it, but this is where I belong.”
“You’re out of your head. If you stay here, you’ll die.”
“I know. But I can’t go back.”
“You’re hallucinating! She’s just a ghost!”
“Are you sure? She doesn’t seem like a ghost to me. And the people in those beds—they’re alive, I can feel it. Why don’t you talk to your parents? I’m sure they’ll tell you they’re not dead. The fungus enters the brain and fuses with the neurons, with every cell in the body … They’re a different form of life now, that’s all. Different, but they can still communicate with us.”
“Get a grip, man! The toxin levels are off the scale in here. Everything we see and hear, everything is coming from inside. Erika isn’t calling you. You’re calling yourself!”
Mimura suddenly shook himself free. He tore open his suit seals, ripped off his hood, and pulled his arms out of the sleeves in a frenzy. The hazmat suit, his only defense, lay on the floor like a sloughed-off cocoon.
I was speechless with astonishment. Mimura smiled, like someone enjoying a bracing wind. “You know the way back.”
He turned toward Erika’s ghost, reached out to embrace her and fell facedown onto the bed of mushrooms, throwing up a thick cloud of spores. I felt time slow down. Erika was smiling, but it was a smile I had never seen before. My parents were smiling too.
The rage surged out of me. I rolled Mimura violently off the bed and started crushing the mushrooms under foot. The sensation that reached me through the soles of my boots was nauseating, but I kept stamping until I was out of breath. Mimura was still on the floor. He clutched at my legs.
“Stop it! Do you know what you’re doing?” he screamed. “Do you know what you’re destroying?”
I knew. I knew very well. But—
The memories were bursting in my brain like a barrage of fireworks. Memories of lost summers, memories from childhood, everything I’d ever forgotten coming vividly to life again as the toxin redoubled its potency. Even past sorrows and regrets seemed beautifully limned with threads of gold.
I hated it. I hated all of it. Pain should remain pain. I didn’t need lovely embroidered lies.
Mimura was still grabbing my legs. I gave him a kick that sent him sprawling, but I stopped trampling the mushrooms. I couldn’t stand to see any more or listen to his whimpering. I ran into the hall and down the stairs, burst out of the house and into the street. I fell to my hands and knees and gasped for air. Black mist streamed across my field of vision. I kept trying to yell, but my voice wouldn’t come. I was paralyzed in a waking dream.
I stared at my fists pressed against the asphalt. Tiny apparitions of Erika were sprouting between my fingers, calling to me in a child’s voice. “Takashi, Takashi.” I stood up like a puppet jerked on a wire and batted the apparition
s away.
A huge human head rose slowly in front of my eyes. It was inside my suit. It started to revolve—Father, Mother, Erika. Enormous hands stroked my cheek and tugged at my body. Takashi Takashi Why won’t you help us We’re family We’re family We are your family.
The stench of taffy and mint was overpowering.
I ran away from there.
After a few dozen yards I was back on the ground, gasping for air. The apparitions were gone, but I still felt hands groping my body. I shivered with disgust.
I looked back down the road. The house was out of sight.
Mimura would stay there and join the mushrooms. Billions of mycelia would penetrate his body with terrifying energy, turning him into a seedbed for more ghosts to continue the hunt. He was probably ready for it. The mushrooms had fed on my sister’s flesh and blood. In a way, he and Erika would be together now.
It suddenly came to me that we’d seen ghosts all along this road. Many of the houses in the neighborhood might contain the bodies of people lured to their deaths like Mimura. Yearning to see home again, yearning to recover mementos, beguiled by the mushrooms, devoured by the mushrooms—
That was when I realized the true horror. I knew what Matsuoka had left out of his story.
The apparitions generated by Auricularia were tied to personal memories. Personal memories are distorted and idealized. Uncanny or terrifying experiences are even more so in memory. Dear ones are even more dear—parents, siblings, lovers, spouses. The people we love are human beings with faults and traits that are less than appealing. Some of them are ugly. We know, because we deal with them every day.