Someone handed the manager a note. He read it over before announcing, “Unfortunately, all boats are cancelled, including service by ferry and hydrofoil from Sumoto to Kansai International Airport; Tsuna to Tempozan Port, Kobe Central Pier, and Izumisano Port; and Iwaya to Akashi. However, around 4:00 a.m. one ferry did leave from Tsuna for the central pier.”
“Well, of course,” said one of the guests. “That was before the earthquake.”
“Yes, but don’t forget, the people in that boat were heading into the middle of it.” This from the woman who’d been weeping in front of the TV. One of the couples that had attended the puppet performance, as well as the weekend lovers, had come by car; these four quickly drove off to the harbour, just in case a boat might leave.
Aki hurried over to the public phones and tried Mitsuru’s number again. Again, nothing. He was finally able to get through to the Mikage nursing home and verify that his mother was safe. Luckily, it was Nurse Sakiyama who answered the phone. The hilly parts of Kobe weren’t much affected, she told him.
It then occurred to Aki to give Xu Liping a call. The line was busy. He reported this to Li Xing, who was sitting on a sofa, adding that her grandfather was probably all right.
“But your sister…” Her face was pale.
Aki’s frustration mounted. There was Mitsuru’s safety to worry about, but he also had to get Li Xing back to Osaka by tonight at the latest. Why, of all times, did such a disaster have to happen now? But then again, a disaster is good at no time.
There was no way back to the mainland but by boat. Temporarily, all departures were cancelled, but they might start up again at any time. Aki decided that they, too, should head for one of the harbours from which boats and ferries left for Kobe or Osaka. He asked the front desk to call for a taxi, but was told that none were available.
“How about the hotel courtesy car?”
“Of course we’ll gladly provide you with transportation, sir, but as you know, the boats aren’t running. Rather than be stuck waiting for hours at the harbour, we recommend that you wait here a bit longer.”
Oh you do, do you? muttered Aki in annoyance. “Yeah, I see your point,” he said. “Still, I think we’ll take a car as far as Sumoto or Tsuna. If nothing turns up, we’ll be back.” Turning to Li Xing, he said, “Let’s get something to eat while we can.”
Hand in hand they went into the lounge and sat at a table. Out the window was the Grand Naruto Bridge. Cars were moving across it. “That’s it!” he said suddenly. “All we have to do is cross that bridge.” He explained: “See, the bridge will take us to the next island, Shikoku. From there, Takamatsu City is connected to the mainland by the Grand Seto Bridge. It’ll be a big detour, but if there aren’t any boats in action, we have two choices: swim, or cross that bridge.”
Li Xing pushed aside her plate of French bread and poached egg, folded her hands on the napkin in her lap, and nodded. She looked nice and warm, and miserable.
“Sir, your car is ready,” announced the bellboy. As they walked across the lobby towards the door, they heard one of the guests saying, “Well, what about the hotel motorboat? Can’t we use that?”
“I’m very sorry, sir, but the boat is available only from April to November. There’s no one on the hotel staff qualified to operate it at present.”
“I have a license to operate light craft. I can do it?”
“I’m sorry, but that isn’t something we can allow.”
Before getting in the car, Aki tried calling Mitsuru again, without any luck. Xu Liping’s line was still busy.
It was the same driver they had yesterday. As he pulled onto the road, he suggested they not try to reach Kobe or Osaka by boat. “All the ports are shut down. Nothing’s doing. Things are bad, I tell you. Kobe’s been wiped out. It’s unreal. Even here on Awaji, the northern part of the island is a shambles. The dead are piling up.”
It was a grim picture. “How about if we took the Grand Seto Bridge from Shikoku to Kojima. Would you drive us?”
The driver shook his head. “Too far for me. Sorry.” He drove down a slightly elevated promontory and through the fishing village of Anaga. Some twenty fishing boats were anchored inside the breakwater. The area had sustained little damage, and there had been no tsunami, either. A dozen fishermen were standing staring out to sea, arms around each other’s shoulders.
“Mr Uemura,” Aki addressed the driver by name, “stop here, would you, please. What do you think about our hiring a fishing boat to take us across?”
“Not a bad idea if they’ll do it.”
“You mind coming with me to ask?”
Leaving Li Xing in the car, Aki and the driver approached the fishermen, several of whom knew Uemura and greeted him. “My customer here wants somebody to take him to Kobe in a fishing boat,” Uemura said to the group. “What about it? Can one of you do it?”
An old fisherman looked them with a wry smile on his weathered face. “You crazy? Tiny boats like them – clear to Kobe? That’s asking to be swamped.”
A young guy sitting on the ground with his arms around his knees chimed in, “Yeah, these are wooden boats. The engine’d never make it.”
“You know,” said the old fisherman, “what if you took the Tsunahiki-maru? Might work.”
“Ah, you could be right.”
Uemura pointed beyond the breakwater to the left. Half hidden behind the concrete wall was a fairly large boat. The height and thickness of its mast and windlass supports dwarfed all other boats. “Where’s Toru?” Uemura asked.
“Home,” said the young guy. “Wore himself out last night, I reckon.” There was general laughter.
Uemura took out his cell phone and put it to his ear, telling Aki that Toru was an old friend from high school. Toru came on the line, and Uemura explained the situation.
“He’ll be right over,” Uemura said to Aki, sliding the phone back in his pocket.
According to the radio, Osaka had suffered relatively little damage and its subways and loop line were all running. Toru had gotten them across the water to Kobe, and Aki was now considering asking Toru to take Li Xing on as far as Tempozan Port. But soon he thought better: this was no time to leave her on her own. First, he had to check on Mitsuru. Then, he would see that Li Xing got back to Osaka, one way or another.
The roads were impassable, and live electric wires dangled midair. A seven-story apartment building had collapsed, the dust still rising. Incessantly, out of nowhere, came the sound of muffled cries. People in their nightclothes walked around, stunned, blankets draped over their heads. A young man sat next to the unmoving body of a woman at the side of the road.
“It’s like a bad dream,” Li Xing kept saying.
“I know. But right now we have to stay awake.”
They made their way to Ashiya. The familiar cluster of high-rise apartment buildings in Seaside Town looked the same as ever, towering above them. The sight was somewhat reassuring, but the relief was short-lived. The closer they got to the river, the worse the destruction was. The sky was dark, the air thick with falling ash. Helicopters hovered in the smoke. The smell of gas was everywhere.
The neighbourhoods of Isecho and Hama-Ashiya had a lot of old wooden houses. Some of Aki’s mother’s relatives had lived here; when he was small, she’d often brought him here to visit. Now, not a single dwelling stood. The body of an old man lay alone at the side of the road. There was no one else in sight, everyone else presumably buried in the rubble. The area was utterly devastated; the only way to tell where they were was from address plates on fallen telephone poles.
They came to the river. A small crowd of evacuees had gathered on the tennis courts, and people were warming themselves around a fire. Ahead was a concrete bridge, which led over to Hirata-cho. The bridge was intact. Here, too, people were camped.
Aki took Li Xing by the arm, and together they walked across. Never had crossing a bridge seemed so unsafe. Below them the riverbed was dry, as it often was in winter, streams supp
lying the mouth of the river with their flow.
On the other side, Aki, peering ahead, made out a beige structure of reinforced concrete. “There it is,” he said. “That’s my sister’s building.”
“Oh, good!”
As they walked closer, Aki was hit by a mounting wave of apprehension. The height of the building was wrong. He counted. There should be five stories, but he could see only four. They rounded a clump of shrubbery and stood directly in front of the building. The entrance was gone. The entire first floor had been obliterated.
They went around to the rear. A rescue team was digging with shovels. “People are in there, buried alive!” shouted a man who seemed to be a resident.
Eight years earlier, Mitsuru had taken out a loan to buy this condominium; she liked the design of the apartment, how it was situated. “It’s on the first floor,” she’d announced over the phone, cheerful and excited. “The garden’s dinky, but it’s got grass and hydrangeas, and sometimes even a nightingale comes by. Eighty-two square metres may sound kind of extravagant, but I like living alone, and I like being on the first floor.”
Now, a tall, thin young man was making an impassioned appeal to the rescue squad even as he banged on a crushed front door with a wrench and tried to insert a jack. It was the door of Mitsuru’s apartment.
For a second Aki closed his eyes and prayed that his sister had spent last night away from home. Maybe she had stayed over at a friend’s house. Sunday was Coming of Age Day, yesterday was a substitute holiday; maybe she’d taken a long weekend, gone off on a ski trip. He could only hope.
Who was this young guy? Silently, Aki got down to work beside him. Together they struggled to break down the door and pry an opening. After a bit, Aki said, “I don’t know who you are, but I’m Tachibana Mitsuru’s brother. Can you hear anything?”
“No.”
“I hope to God she wasn’t home last night.”
“She was here, I’m afraid.”
“How do you know?”
“My name’s Uchiyama. I work for the Zebra Parcel Service. Last night, just after eight o’clock, I brought her some soba noodles. She was definitely home.”
Before long, reinforcements arrived, and members of the rescue squad pitched in with the effort. A resident lent Aki and Li Xing, who was doing anything she could to help, work gloves.
“I see something!” shouted one of the rescuers.
“No answer,” said another. “Doesn’t look good.”
After a while the rescue called a break, afraid that too much digging might further weaken the upper floors.
It was night-time before Mitsuru was brought out. The members of the fire brigade shook their heads, indicating no hope. Aki and Uchiyama protested vehemently, but the firemen had to take off on another rescue mission.
Uchiyama picked Mitsuru up in his arms and raced over to his truck. Despite the grimness of the situation, he was careful not to jolt her as he ran. Aki couldn’t help noticing and being touched by this. Holding Li Xing’s hand, he ran to catch up with Uchiyama.
The traffic lights at the intersections weren’t working. Cars fleeing in every direction clogged the streets along with ambulances, fire trucks, patrol cars, and Self-Defence Force vehicles on emergency duty. It took an hour and a half to travel the two kilometres to Ashiya Community Hospital and get Mitsuru inside. The hospital was running on emergency generators.
“I’m very sorry,” the doctor told them, and bowed his head. Mitsuru looked alive. She had no external injuries; there was no bloodshed. She must have been asleep. The expression on her face was peaceful; it showed no sign of suffering. Aki laid a hand on her cheek; it felt warm. Beside him, Uchiyama was crying.
“Go ahead, touch her,” he said.
“I have no right.”
“Go on,” he said.
Gently, Uchiyama laid a trembling hand on Mitsuru’s face.
“May I, too?” asked Li Xing. “I can’t believe I’m meeting your sister this way.” She buried her face in Aki’s chest.
Somehow Aki managed to pull himself together and do the things that needed to be done. Injured people and dead bodies were being carried into the hospital one after the other. He decided to move Mitsuru to the hospital mortuary, but it was crammed full. They barely managed to find a corner to lay her down in. The body of a sixteen-year-old high school girl, brought in after Mitsuru, was turned away; the girl’s mother collapsed, distraught.
Uchiyama volunteered to remain and keep watch at Mitsuru’s side.
“Thank you. Your staying with her would mean a lot. I’ll be back later, even if it takes all night.”
His brain operating in crisis mode, Aki thought next to phone Xu Liping, but there were huge lines at every public telephone in the hospital. Uchiyama quickly produced his cell phone, and Aki made the call. This time the line was free, and Xu picked up. He and his wife were safe, Aki was greatly relieved to hear. And then Aki explained, as succinctly as he could, that Li Xing was with him and needed somewhere to stay. He chose not to mention, not over the phone, anything about Mitsuru.
“What a time for her to come!” exclaimed the old man. “There are fires spreading east from Nagata Ward. I can see them in Shimoyamate, too. At night the wind blows in off the sea, which will probably fan them towards us. If that happens, escape for us will be impossible – my wife got sick last autumn and she’s in a wheelchair. I’ve been preparing for the worst. But if you want to come here, come. Just keep an eye out for fires. Take care, and—”
He was cut off in mid-sentence as the line went dead. No matter how many times Aki redialled, he couldn’t get through again.
Traffic was at a standstill. Roads had ceased to function. And even if an occasional fire truck did make it to the scene of a fire, the water mains were ruptured. Kobe was a city of many rivers, but now little water. It was past midnight by the time the rescue crews began scooping up seawater and dumping it on the burning city.
Aki and Li Xing set off on foot. The city lights were out, and yet the streets were bathed in a dim glow: the city was on fire. It was too dark to see clearly where they were going, but the flashlight Uchiyama had given them helped.
The roads were fissured and strewn with rubble. At first they held hands as they walked, but this made the going harder. Finally, only when they had to clamber over some obstruction, or leap over a crack or hole in the ground, would Aki take the lead and grasp her by the hand.
They passed a family huddled around a kerosene stove amid the ruins of their home.
Men sharing a blanket talked in low tones: “Buried, then burned alive. God almighty. Couldn’t do a thing but watch and pray.”
They came across a broken telephone pole. Aki turned his flashlight on it and made out the address: 5-chome Kitamachi, Motoyama.
“How much further?” she asked.
“Maybe ten kilometres. As the crow flies.”
Aki put an arm around Li Xing’s shoulders and drew her near. In the sky ahead of them, overhanging columns of dark smoke were lit below by the red glow of flames, like a sunset. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d be guiding Li Xing around a Kobe that was a sea of flames. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought Mitsuru would perish – just like that. As he and Li Xing walked on and on, the wind blew cold, now a whisper, now a moan. In some shallow water, they observed someone incongruously washing a pair of jeans.
“Wait – who’s that?” asked Li Xing, pointing suddenly to the man. Under the circumstances, the question seemed absurd.
Aki looked at the man, and to his utter astonishment, he recognized who it was. “Chen!” he shouted, shining his flashlight on the man. “Chen Ying!” It was his driver from Shanghai. They raced down to the riverbank. “Chen Ying! You’re Chen Ying, right? Look, it’s me!” Aki turned the beam on his own face.
The man glanced at Aki, then did a double take. “Xiansheng!” he cried. And with no further ado he joined the two of them as they walked on towards the Xu residence in Suw
ayama.
“Xiansheng, Kobe was just like you said it would be, a great place to live. But now it’s finished.”
“Where’s Anli?”
“Dead. She died a year ago.”
They had come as far as the Gomo Tenjin bus stop, where they stopped to help someone screaming that his daughter was buried alive. There were no tools available. But for perhaps a half hour they toiled in silence, getting bloodstains on their work gloves as they lifted pillars, dislodged planks, removed chunks of concrete, dug down in the dirt with their hands. They could hear a faint moaning. They kept digging.
The man’s five-year-old daughter was alive! She’d been protected by a door that had fallen over a TV set. When Chen lifted her out of the rubble, she wailed. It sounded like the cry of a newborn child.
The Shinkobe Oriental Hotel stood intact, with lights in every window and its pointed spire thrusting up into the sky. The top-floor lounge, famous for its night view of the city, was lit up with flickering candlelight. For all Aki knew, there might be couples up there sipping cocktails as they looked down on the burning streets. But blaming them meant blaming all the people across Japan who sat staring, transfixed, at Kobe’s fiery destruction.
They hurried due west along Yamamoto Avenue. The Kitano district was almost untouched. White ijinkan, the former residences of early foreign settlers, lay sleeping in the darkness. Aki’s flashlight beam picked out the graceful outline of the old Graciani house where Xu Liping and his family – including Li Xing’s mother – had once lived.
They got to Suwayama a little past twelve-thirty – after a hike of three and a half hours. The electricity was out in Xu Liping’s apartment, but the living room was faintly illuminated by the reflection from the fires below.
The Xu family had survived the Great Hanshin Flood of 1938 and the bombing raids of World War II without loss of life. This time, however, things were different. Already they had been informed of the deaths of the husband and son of their third daughter, who lived in Takarazuka. Nor had anything yet been heard from a male cousin in Suma.
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