I Haven't Dreamed of Flying for a While

by Taichi Yamada

  ‘No, it isn’t.’

  ‘To not be able to appreciate my youth.’

  ‘I’m sure you can stay the way you are now.’

  ‘I have to believe that.’

  ‘You’re beautiful. Everything about you is sparkling.’

  ‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘Look at my youth.’

  We collapsed onto the bed. Urgently, desperately, I grabbed, caressed, clutched and gently touched her young body. I turned her onto her stomach, then roughly onto her back. All the while kissing, licking and sucking every part of her before making passionate love to her. I got the sense that someone or something was endowing me with strength. Felt I wasn’t the only one admiring and greedily drinking in Mutsuko’s youth. That the someone or something endowing me with strength was experiencing all these sensations through me. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel evil. But it didn’t feel divine either. What kind of a god would drive my tongue to taste between her sweet, young thighs?

  Perhaps it was my own sense of powerlessness that made me imagine the existence of another. Mutsuko’s age reversal was beyond human capability, and my sexual prowess didn’t seem like that of a forty-eight-year-old. Having said that, once midnight had passed, all I wanted to do was rest. Maybe my sexual prowess had simply been a case of middle-aged man’s enthusiasm for a young woman. Maybe it had been sentimental of me to imagine ‘a grand force beyond human capability’ earlier.

  Mutsuko’s hair touched my chin and her cheek rested still against my chest. Her shoulders moved in time with my breathing and I gently stroked her hair. So black and sleek, with each strand seeming full of life. My hair, in comparison, though thick and wiry in my twenties, was now weak and soft, with grey strands scattered here and there. Mutsuko’s hair had been the same as mine, though. So unless this was some sort of clever trick, impossible things were definitely happening to her. That woman with thin, grey hair was here now as someone in her twenties. And even if it were possible to question whether the grey-haired woman and Mutsuko were the same person, the forty-two or forty—three-year-old Mutsuko and the Mutsuko in my arms definitely couldn’t be different people. Other than Mutsuko, I was probably the only person who was aware of this.

  But was it really right for me to keep this kind of thing secret? Having said that, would it even be possible to tell people and make them believe it? Of course, if Mutsuko continued to grow younger, this miracle could be verified by scientists. But Mutsuko would lose her private life. It could also be possible, as Mutsuko feared, that she might not have long to live. It wasn’t impossible that she could become a young girl, then an infant, then a baby, and then finally disappear. And I couldn’t bear the thought of exposing that life to science or the curiosities of people in general. Perhaps there were plenty of happenings like this in this world. Maybe things like this do occasionally happen, but people keep them secret to avoid causing mass hysteria. If that were true, then perhaps these things happened more than people thought.

  ‘Tomorrow—’ Mutsuko murmured.

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Can you buy a camera and photograph me?’

  ‘Let’s do that. Let me photograph you.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘I was worried you would disappear tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I’ll be here.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Can you come out at five-thirty?’

  ‘I’m not going to work.’

  ‘But you should.’

  ‘No, I don’t have to. There’s nothing for me there.’

  ‘I’m sleepy.’

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘I don’t want to, but I’m going to fall asleep.’

  ‘So am l.’

  Next morning, I called home and said I’d been given a proper assignment at work for a change. Then I called my company to tell them that I’d be taking the day off sick. Mutsuko didn’t say anything as she saw me lying to my wife and then the company. She just looked away. She seemed like the kind of person who would usually try to stop a man from doing that sort of thing. But at the moment she couldn’t afford to do so, so she was putting her own feelings first. I would usually find such a show of self-importance in a woman to be disagreeable, but emotions can be fickle and I found it moving, how she listened to my calls in silence.

  Mutsuko ordered room service for breakfast and I felt a slight twinge in my stomach when I thought of the cost. If we stayed another night, I would run out of cash. On top of that, she was asking for a camera. I should somehow be able to pay for that in instalments, but I couldn’t afford any more luxuries in the hotel. I could borrow money from a consumer credit company, but I didn’t have my wage slip on me, and I probably couldn’t get a loan immediately anyway.

  ‘I have money,’ Mutsuko said, as if reading my mind. ‘Don’t worry.’

  ‘I can’t let you pay for everything.’

  ‘I’m not saying I have more money than I can spend, but I can at least afford a little luxury tor the two of us.’

  She told me that her husband had been one of the richer people in the northern town in which they’d lived, and, though she didn’t get any money from her divorce, as it had been her decision to leave, she had been saving for a long time in preparation for the day she would go.

  ‘I’m tough when it comes to things like that,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘But I couldn’t stay tough, so I jumped from the platform.’

  ‘The platform of a station?’

  She told me how she was immediately rescued and got away with just a fractured vertebra.

  ‘But I really hadn’t gotten away with anything.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I mean,’ she continued, ‘something must have happened then, for me to become like this.’

  Hearing the young Mutsuko talk about how she used to be an aged wife from a town in the north, I felt like we’d left everyday life far behind and were now enjoying being in our own insane world. I felt as if a heavy load had been taken off my shoulders, and time passed in peaceful indulgence.

  Eventually Mutsuko put on her clothes. Cream-coloured slacks, a white blouse, a yellow summer cardigan and a light green scarf. It was a simple outfit, but I felt like I had come face to face with reality. Youth, for the first time, was standing in front of me in its most fitting form. Taking the pins out one by one, she said, ‘I’m afraid this is all I could do with my hair.’ I thought how this must be what it was like to come under the spell of a woman. Like it would give me dreamlike happiness to immerse myself in Mutsuko. To drop out of society together.

  We went out to the west side of Shinjuku station to buy a camera and I had fun haggling the price down in the crowded store. I felt that today, the city I’d been commuting to had become a different place entirely. Then I put the film in the camera at the store and began taking photos of Mutsuko as soon as we stepped out into the street. I admired her as I captured her with the camera, appreciating the true beauty of her every movement.

  We sat down at an outdoor café at the bottom of a high-rise and I took a few more photos of her. Then, even after I’d finished, I allowed my gaze to linger on her.

  ‘Why don’t you look at something else?’ She shot me a fed-up smile.

  ‘I don’t want to look at anything else.’

  ‘People are watching us.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  There wasn’t much chance that someone from work would be in this area during the day, and I didn’t mind if they did see me anyway. I just didn’t care. I felt that by immersing myself in Mutsuko, I was enacting revenge on my long career and putting myself on trial.

  ‘There is just one thing I’d like you to fix,’ I said.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Your manner of speech isn’t really suitable for a young woman.’

  She dropped her gaze for a moment, then suddenly said,

  ‘Whaddaya want me to do?’

  ‘No, that’s goin
g too far.’

  ‘I don’t think so. There are plenty of young girls who talk like that. I’ve even seen a girl referring to herself the way men do, as “ore”.’

  ‘Well then, l guess you ought to keep it up.’

  ‘I have been aware of this. But you know it’s not easy to suddenly change the way you speak. I Find myself tempted to say things like, “Would you care to try it on?”‘

  ‘You’re good.’

  ‘Look, it’s already past two. Want to grab a pizza, uncle?’

  ‘Now you’re talking like a teenager.’

  We both laughed. I felt I could be truly happy if I just believed that I was. Then we walked to the hotel and had pizza at a terrace restaurant.

  By the time we got back to the room, the late-afternoon sun was shining through the window. I closed the curtains, thinking that her naked body would come out more beautiful if I took the pictures in the dark using a flash. Mutsuko didn’t object and readily slipped off everything she was wearing. She tried to massage off the marks left by her brassiere. I helped her, then placed my lips there. ‘You mustn’t,’ she said, but I couldn’t suppress my desire, and the photography was put off until later. The next morning I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. It was reception.

  ‘It’s eleven o’clock. We would like to inform you that it is check-out time, sir.’

  Mutsuko wasn’t there.

  the lady requested that we call you to confirm what you would like to do.’

  ‘I’ll leave right away. Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome, sir.’

  As expected, she had disappeared. Even though I had checked with her as we were falling asleep.

  ‘You won’t leave, right?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t want to wake up to find you aren’t here.’

  ‘I won’t leave.’

  But she had lied. She had left. Struck by a sense of hopeless ness, I said out loud, ‘She’s gone,’ in a kind of sob, and collapsed to the floor. I mustered up whatever energy could and put on my clothes, then looked for the film. At least that was still there.

  I’d stuffed so many containers of film in my pockets that they were bulging as I walked down to place the key on the reception desk.

  ‘It looks like I’m thirty minutes late.’

  ‘That’s no problem, sir. Thank you very much.’

  Again, Mutsuko had already paid for everything. Carrying the camera in my hand, I dragged my feet towards the city under the dazzling May sun.

  That night my wife was home. Shinichi was there, too. After the three of us ate dinner together, I stood in the living room looking out at the garden. I could hear my wife doing the dishes. She hadn’t said anything about my absence, and when I explained that I’d been working she simply responded encouragingly, ‘It’s not at had thing, to do so once in a while.’

  A spider’s web on the garden light caught my eye. I noticed Shinichi’s reflection in the window as he came and stood behind me.

  ‘Dad?’ he said quietly. ‘l saw you in Shinjuku yesterday.’

  4

  ‘Does your mother know?’ I asked my son discreetly.

  ‘Well, of course I didn’t tell her,’ he replied, equally discreet.

  He stood about two fists taller than me. I could hear the sound of running water from the kitchen.

  ‘Let’s go to your room.’

  ‘All right.’

  Shinichi headed for the stairs. As I tried to follow him, I heard my wife say, ‘There’s ice cream,’ followed by the sound of dishes being placed on the dish rack.

  ‘I’m fine for now, thanks. I’m just going up to Shinichi’s room for a bit.’

  ‘To do what?’

  ‘Listen to some records.’

  ‘How unusual.’

  I carried on upstairs and walked in the door that Shinichi had left open, suddenly realising just how unusual this was. Like the first visit to a friend I hadn’t seen in a while; the basics were the same, but many things were unfamiliar. This was partly because I had lived away from home for a long time, but also because Shinichi preferred to keep his room private.

  ‘Take a seat on the bed,’ he said, turning round the chair in front of his desk and sitting down.

  ‘Do you really want to listen?’ he said.

  ‘To what?’ I replied, gazing out of the window.

  ‘A record.’

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be suspicious if she can’t hear music?’

  ‘I guess so. Can you put one on then?’

  ‘What do you want to listen to?’

  ‘I don’t know well enough to choose.’

  Shinichi stood up, switched on his stereo and began flicking through his records. I was a little relieved. I was expecting him to be angry at me. After all, he had just caught his own father messing about with a young woman. Surely he was disappointed in me. Or maybe he was already beyond disappointment. A child who’d already watched his spineless father suffer from a mental breakdown as soon as he’d made deputy director of sales. He probably didn’t see me as someone he needed to surpass. The sound of the needle on the record interrupted my train of thought, then a loud guitar chord followed.

  ‘It’s a bit loud.’

  ‘There’s no point if it’s not loud.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning it doesn’t sound good.’

  ‘Well we didn’t come here to listen to records.’

  ‘But it sounds great, though, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘It sounds great, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it does.’

  ‘Why don’t you sit down?’

  All right. It’s just that I haven’t looked out of this window in a while. The view is refreshing.’

  ‘Wait for it.’ He stuck his palm out towards me as if to stop my words. ‘Coming up now… after this part,’ he said, pointing to the speakers. The guitar shifted rhythm, then continued on. I was a little taken aback. Shinichi really had wanted me to listen to his records. Me, of all people. It was hard to believe. My son wanted to empathise with me. He wanted me to listen to what he thought was good music. This possibility hadn’t occurred to me at all and, unable to respond, I stood frozen in place, staring out at the empty, three-metre-wide suburban street beyond the window.

  I was surprised that my son, my third-year college-student son, would want to listen to music with his dad. But inside he was still a child and I felt something like love for him well up inside me. I turned towards him slowly. Shinichi reached for the dial on the stereo and lowered the volume.

  ‘The rest is nothing special,’ he said.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Why don’t you sit down?’

  ‘Okay.’

  I finally sat down on the bed, feeling like we’d been dodging the subject at hand.

  Tm sorry, but I saw you two get into the hotel lift together.’

  ‘From where.’

  ‘Next to the reception. By the—’

  ‘No. I mean, where did you first notice me?’

  At Yodobashi Camera.’

  That meant that he had seen almost everything. All my shameless flaunting of Mutsuko. My carefree display of infatuation.

  ‘You must have been watching us for a couple of hours.’

  ‘I don’t think so. At least, it didn’t feel that long.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I was busy thinking about other things, like whether I should say hi and stuff.’

  Despite what he’d seen, he still had the composure and decency not to launch immediately into a criticism of me, even playing me some music first. Could it be that he was no longer a child after all? That he’d instead become so much of an adult that his father now looked pathetic to him? Then again, he’d followed us for close to two hours. Surely that was a sign of youth. Somewhere inside me, l actually felt a glimmer of happiness at the realisation that my son had been taking such an interest in me. But still I had no real idea
of what he was feeling or thinking.

  ‘What you told us,’ said Shinichi. ‘About getting a decent assignment at work for a change. It isn’t true, is it?’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’

  I didn’t like having to admit such a thing to my son, but there was nothing else I could do.

  ‘So what is she? That woman.’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Is she your woman, Dad?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘She mustn’t know.’

  ‘Know what?

  ‘Know you, Dad.’ He dropped his gaze.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I was surprised how pretty she was. And young.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I repressed the urge to revel in the compliment.

  ‘For that kind of person to be seduced—?

  ‘I didn’t seduce her.’

  ‘I just don’t know that side of you.’

  ‘It’s not like this is something I do all the time, you know.’

  ‘I wonder what she’s attracted to in you?’

  ‘How would I know?

  ‘Well, I come from you. Which means I’ve inherited at least something from you. So when I saw something unexpected like that, I began to think there might be something in me that I myself haven’t realised yet — watching you and thinking those kinds of things, it didn’t feel like two hours had passed at all.’

  It suddenly occurred to me that I might be able to fabricate a story. Tell him that I wasn’t sleeping with Mutsuko. That it was what is known as industrial espionage. Although at the same time, I found myself wanting to boast to my son of how I’d won the heart of a beautiful woman.

  ‘Is that Nikon yours?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘The camera.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Actually, Mutsuko had paid for it, but I had it now and at that moment I didn’t want to admit that it belonged to her.

  ‘Can I use it?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Still I couldn’t make up my mind whether he was still a child or whether he’d become an adult. Perhaps he was at a difficult age in between.

  Suddenly he turned round and opened his desk drawer, making me wonder what he was going to show me.

  ‘Basically, what I want to say is…’ His hand reached into the drawer but came out with nothing more than a nail clipper.