The Foragers

by Katherine Nader

  “How much longer do I have to suffer?” I asked him, pulling his shoes off and throwing his legs over the bed. “I’ve almost gone through a bottle in one day. Putting them in your food, in your tea, and now you don’t even eat anymore.” I slid my fingers under his shoulders and, after several pulls, I managed to haul him out of the chair and rolled him onto the covers.

  “Maybe it’s better for you this way,” I told the sleeping old man. “To die sooner. Then, I can get my hands on your will. I built this family. The game runs every year and ends on Minoru’s birthday. Now that he is turning eighteen, it’s time for him to become an adult, to lead The Mori Group.”

  The grandfather clock ticked, ticked, ticked...

  “I took your son for a husband—a man who I thought could make his own decisions. Yet he follows you like a lost child. Nobody makes any decisions around here. The family would fall apart if it weren’t for me. I deserve the inheritance more than anyone, don’t you think?”

  Oji-san snored. I fluffed up the pillows behind his head, reached for one more beside him, held it a few inches above his face and paused. A ticking sound against glass echoed near the bed. I put the pillow behind Oji-san’s head and grasped the container near the bed where the black widow spider tapped its legs against the glass wall. It always sensed the gift I brought her each visit. “Shhh….now, little one.” I rubbed my finger against the glass container and pictured a red hourglass on the spider’s abdomen. Time was ticking away just as this little one ticked her legs against the glass. She needed to get stronger to protect her children. Soon she would starve, and when she starved she became agitated. That was the only time she ever bit anyone. I unfolded a plastic bag from my pocket, holding a smaller male spider—her meal. I carried him near the container. “Soon, my little one.” I laughed at the poor creature. I was just like her, a starving mother, always wanting more power to protect my children—to protect Minoru, who needed me to be strong for him. And just like this mother, we were treated like Oji-san’s pet, trapping us in a cage. A knock on the door startled me and I dropped the lid of the spider’s container.

  “No!” I bent down to feel for the lid.

  “Honey, is that you?” A rough voice called out to me and the door swung open.

  I hid the bag in my pocket.

  “Is he okay?”

  “Takeshi …” I straightened my back quickly and bumped into the wheelchair.

  “Easy …” Takeshi pulled me towards him by the shoulders. “Oto-san is getting old.”

  I took deep breaths before forcing a smile. “He thinks too much … Walk me to my wing, will you?” I raised my arm for Takeshi to hold.

  “It’s all because of the fire that this happened to you,” Takeshi apologized for the hundredth time. “The summer heat in Italy had been too much. My men didn’t think the fire would spread that far.”

  “It got our closest allies killed!”

  “Hush …” Takeshi closed the door and led me down the hall. “The walls echo. Besides, we can always make new allies.”

  “Like that snake?” I snorted. “I heard you talking to her this morning. She looks different every day. Has she been tucking her tail between her legs after saving her from that fire?”

  “She’s gathered a trap at the base.”

  “I don’t believe her story about the Kan just leaving her. That girl changes colors just like a snake. Once a snake, always a snake. She’s a poison to this family.”

  Takeshi kissed my forehead over the bandages. “It’s going to be wonderful. I wish you could see it.”

  “I will.” I clutched the whip in my pocket. Takeshi unlocked the door to my quarters and guided my hand to the frame of a settee. “I can take it from here.” I turned around.

  “Let me just open the door for some fresh air.” Takeshi pushed the sliding doors from each other as the breeze blew the drapes away. “It’s nice while it’s still warm.”

  Takeshi squeezed his hand over mine.

  “I have to get ready.”

  He pulled me closer to him.

  “Takeshi.”

  He sighed and rested his hand over my shoulder. “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I still have a lot of footage to go through. I need to go see how my son’s doing.”

  “Our son.” Takeshi stepped back. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that I did everything I could to save everyone from that fire? In fact, you’ve been blaming me since the day I came clean to you about my other children. How long do I have to keep apologizing?”

  “I’ll see you at the base.”

  Takeshi walked out the door and I closed it after him. His training shoes echoed along the floorboards. They were the same black cotton sole canvas slippers that I used to clean for him. I had practiced martial arts in the dōjō with him for years...

  “I love this dōjō,” I told him many years ago. “We should call it the Golden Pavilion.”

  Takeshi laughed, squeezing my hand as we lay on the tatami mats, exhausted after a night’s fight.

  “Come on.” I stared at the ceiling. “This is where Zen Buddhists practiced their meditation, the place of enlightenment.”

  These were good times, I recalled. But, not anymore. I sat in a chair by the dresser, took the hairpins off the back of my head, reached for the fold of the cloth and un-wrapped it from around my eyes. Crisped lines stretched over my eyelids, no longer bleeding. I stared into the mirror, but I knew that I would no longer look the way I was before. Not even tears could flow down my burned skin. Nothing could soften the scars on my face, not even the smooth and grounded matcha powder. I reached for the jar anyway and dipped my fingers into the cool cream. It smelled like green tea just as I had loved it. The film over my eyes felt hard. I would never know if my eyelids were open or closed. I couldn’t feel anything there anymore.

  I walked toward the breeze and felt the warmth of the sun. The sound of water from the bamboo trickling into the pond at my stone garden made me happy. Without Minoru, I only had one thing that could comfort me. I slipped my feet out of my slippers. The grass tickled my toes. I walked over the small rocks and gravel that lined the pond and wondered how my carps were doing.

  “Koi.” I called out their names and dipped my toe into the water. The fish nibbled at my skin. I crossed a small wooden bridge that arched over the pond to the island. It looked like a Horai, the Tao path that our people worshipped long ago. I felt the etched Japanese characters on a stone.

  “For longevity and health.” I pressed my hands together and bowed my head to the Tao. Straw, burlap and ropes were stacked on the right. Maids used them to insulate and protect my trees in the winter. Nets overtopped the shrubs to prevent the Mantema flowers from being damaged by insects. Every year, I would find Mantema flowers diluted into a perfume laying on a stone. I touched the cold stone of the snow lantern in the center of the island, water flowing from the basins around it.

  “Tsukubai,” the forager had called them. “For ritual cleansing.”

  Water trickled down the bamboo dipper and into the basin. I grabbed it and scooped up the water to sip.

  “Makoto?” a voice whispered from behind the fence that barricaded my garden. “Makoto…”

  “Yes, I’m here.” I recognized his voice.

  “I made some more matcha—”

  “Leave it under the fence.”

  “My family—”

  “I need you to plant evidence that will lead back to that snake who thinks she’s one of us now.”

  “Evidence for what?”

  “For the death of Oji-san, head of The Mori Group.” As soon as the words left my lips, I could hear the forager gasp. “Evidence in exchange for information about your family.”

  “But— But why now? After all those years I’ve known you…you would never—”

  “You don’t know me, Haruki.”

  “Y-you’re right. I never really understood you even after all those years we worked together to build this…thi
s contest.”

  “And you were the one who lost ten years ago.”

  “I withdrew from it. I gave up everything for you so you could be with your family and I could be with mine.”

  “Well, if you had chosen differently we wouldn’t be standing on opposite ends of the fence!” I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. “You want to discuss the past? Fine, but we’re running out of time. I left the container of the black widow open near Oji-san’s bed. One bite could be fatal, especially while he’s sedated. His body won’t be able to fight it and he’ll likely die from a stroke. If not that, then organ failure or a heart attack. It can happen in just a few hours, so I need you to plant evidence on this girl. You know where his room is. This is your chance to go over the fence so you can be together with your family again.”

  “And you will give me information in exchange?” The tremor in the forager’s voice betrayed hesitation. “How do I know that you will keep your word?”

  “Your son is among the contestants … I will tell you the rest after.”

  Water trickled once more down the bamboo dipper and into the basin. After a long sigh, I heard a soft “okay” from the forager before the water masked the sound of his footsteps backing away. Past the snow lantern, I touched the leaves of all the trees that I had planted when I was little. Oak, Beech, Walnut, Hornbeam, Katsura, and Kaloponax. I didn’t stop until the spruce tree pricked my finger.

  “It’s a gold spruce tree,” I had told Minoru when he was just five. “It’s the only one left in this world.”

  “How come its needles are half gold, half green?” Minoru asked, a silver hair strand blowing against his forehead. I brushed it away. His silver strands were like the gold needles, smooth and beautiful. Its green ones were sharp and dangerous.

  “It’s half-albino,” I said.

  “Like me?” Minoru beamed.

  “In a way, yes.” I laughed. “I planted this tree the day you were born.” I grabbed Minoru’s chin and caressed his head. “Whenever something or someone bothers you, I want you to come here and look at this tree. I want you to remember how special you are and that there’s no one else like you in this world. Just like how there are two sides to this tree, there are two sides to everyone, the good and the bad.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Shoji

  A white circular button beeped orange down the dark and quiet cave. Outside the cave’s opening, the helicopter that dropped me off sped away and drowned the voices of contestants that dropped twenty stories below. Once the wind from the propellers of the helicopter calmed, a noctuid moth fluttered its black and yellow striped wings as it landed on the wall of the cave near the elevator. I withdrew a bundle of keys from my pocket and shook it. The wings of the moth twitched. The moth darted to the ground and remained still.

  ***

  “Noctuid moths always confuse high frequency sounds with echolocating bats,” a man had said to me once. He carried a round metallic device, pushed a button in its center and the moths suffered a seizure, plummeting down to their deaths. “Sonic waves,” he said. “Too bad they’re deaf to all other sounds including humans’.”

  I helped him dress into a white lab coat and covered his hands with latex gloves. He used a set of tongs to pick up a vial and I tightened the lid around it.

  “Shoji, what are you doing here?” Akane, a young woman with short brown hair, peeped at us from the door.

  “I like to help sometimes,” I said.

  “You’re a business man, born to lead the Hideki Group, not a scientist.”

  Makoto barged in through the door carrying a centrifuge. “Is it ready yet, Haruki?”

  “Almost,” he said.

  Makoto set up the centrifuge on the counter. “Kimura Akane,” Makoto scolded. “Stop flirting with Shoji and get over here and help.”

  “Hai,” Akane saluted and I laughed. “She’s so bossy,” Akane whispered. She then pressed her hands together and mouthed, “Help me.”

  Haruki placed the vial carefully into the centrifuge, and turned it on. We all watched for a few minutes.

  “Is this really going to change the world?” I asked.

  “If Haruki made it, then yes,” Makoto said with a nod.

  The centrifuge came to a stop and Haruki held up the vial with one gloved hand. We all bent down to examine the yellow fluid.

  “Sorry I’m late!” A woman with chestnut hair ran into the lab. “It’s really hard figuring out which train to take when everything is in Japanese.”

  “You came just in time.” Akane hugged her.

  “This is Amelia, the one I told you about,” Haruki whispered into my ear.

  “Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand.

  “Sucks that a bunch of us grad students have to spend a Saturday night in the IST lab,” Amelia teased.

  “You wouldn’t want to miss this.” Haruki showed her the vial.

  “Good thing I brought my camera.” Amelia held it up. “Smile.”

  ***

  I headed deeper into the cave, pushed a circular button and waited in front of an elevator. The orange light dimmed from the button and the elevator doors opened.

  “Welcome to The Mori Group residence,” the automated voice activation system chimed.

  I inhaled, took one step inside, stared at another door opposite me and pushed level one.

  “The Moris are believed to be the descendants of the royal samurai clan dating back to the twelfth century,” the voice activation system continued. “They preserve one of the only forests in the world to inhabit more than five hundred new and endangered species of flora and fauna. The Moris occupied the forest for years, until they sold the lower half in the Akita prefecture to the Hideki Group. The Moris come from a long history of ancestors and Kuma Hunters—”

  “Yeah, yeah …” I pushed the button several times, as though it would make the elevator go down faster.

  “—and, ever since, they have been preserving the forest to protect its species and history from becoming extinct. I hope you enjoy the rest of your journey, and take care.”

  The elevator doors opened into a long, dimly lit corridor. I followed the torches along the walls of the cave and reached another metal door. I looked at the camera hanging from the corner.

  “Hideki Shoji, irrashai masen,” another voice activating system answered. A retinal scan situated near the gate flashed red. I leaned over and it scanned my eye. The door buzzed open.

  I walked down another corridor until I came upon a red door. I grasped the iron handle, pulled it to the side and closed it after me.

  “Welcome, welcome.” Two maids in white approached, one holding a white towel, the other holding white slippers. “This way,” one of them said, gesturing down the long white hallway. The white fluorescent lights reminded me of a hospital. “Your bath has been drawn. Please leave your clothes in this basket, and you may only wear the traditional kimono when greeting the Moris. Please leave any weapons behind—”

  I shoved past the maids.

  “Matte Kudasai!” One of the maids grabbed my arm and I slipped through her grasp. Two armed men approached.

  “Are we seriously going to do this again?” I dropped my jacket, rolled up my sleeves and held my fists up. The maids unsheathed their blades. One spun the hilt of a kunai around her finger. The two men drew their katana and circled me. The tapping sound of a cane jerked us away.

  “Children, children,” Makoto interrupted. She looked beautiful in a dark blue kimono patterned with yellow and white Mantema flowers. A touch of red on her lips made me forget her accident. “Hideki-san is our valued guest. It’s very poor judgment of you to consider him a threat.”

  The staff concealed their weapons and addressed their attire to look the part as they bowed to greet Mrs. Mori. I couldn’t mistake any of her assassins for a regular employee.

  “Come, Hideki-san. This way.” Makoto turned her back and I followed her. We walked down a white corridor and, the further we went in,
the walls transitioned into a traditional Japanese house. The yellow wallpaper of the sliding bamboo doors came into view. The bamboo floorboards creaked with every step and the smell of incense burned my lungs.

  The corridor split into the west wing on the left and the east wing on the right.

  “There are no cameras beyond this point,” Makoto informed me.

  I slid my hands around her waist and hugged her from behind so she wouldn’t escape. Her neck smelled of Mantema flowers, her hair of matcha.

  “We need to talk,” she said, her voice firm as always.

  I exhaled intensely and released my grasp. She walked me into a room at the opening of the west wing and lit a lantern inside. I slid the door shut behind me, felt for her sleeve, pulled her toward me, and grabbed her flinging wrist. She dropped her cane. I caught her other wrist, turned and held her firmly against the wall.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, turning her head to the side.

  “Oho, what happened to the fighter in you, Makoto?” I grinned. “Did a little fire get to you?”

  She faced me, her eyes blinded by the bandages, and pulled on my collar. “You were late.” She smashed her forehead into mine, swung around and knocked me off my feet. Before I knew it, I was lying on the floor with her legs around my waist. Her blade tickled my throat.

  “I love it when you get angry.”

  “I really meant what I said.”

  “So you really did call me to talk—”

  “I fought the Italians one by one in that fire. What took you so long?”

  “I got held back by the Kan, but I’m here now, aren’t I? If I hadn’t told you about their plan to take you down with the rest of the Italians, you wouldn’t be here either.” I traced the shape of her eyes under the bandages and cupped her face.

  “Don’t.” She tilted her head to the side.

  “Oh, come on. It’s hard pretending to be allies with that woman. I’m sorry I couldn’t come help you in time. Maybe then the fire wouldn’t have hurt you like this. Plus, I got some good information from Akane. They built something big after that fire two months ago.”