Sweet Bean Paste

by Durian Sukegawa

  ‘It’s so quiet here I don’t know what to make of it…’

  ‘Because it’s real? Because people really live here?’ Wakana looked at the rows of housing.

  ‘I guess so. This isn’t like reading about something on the internet, it’s for real,’ said Sentaro.

  Awed by the thought, they nodded at each other.

  ‘Shall we head for the shop? It’s a bit early, but Tokue is always early too.’

  ‘Sure.’

  They stood up and continued along the path indicated by the signboard. Thus far the avenue of trees had followed the contour of the boundary, but from here on they were heading deeper into the grounds, toward the shop.

  The one-storey semi-detached buildings were divided into three or four units. Some had washing hanging out the front while others had tightly closed curtains. It was still extremely quiet, with not even the sound of a distant TV or radio to break the silence. Then they heard a tinny melody like a music-box tune drifting through the air.

  ‘Oh, look…’ Wakana pointed to the other side of the houses, where a distinctive-looking truck was driving along the road very slowly. This was the source of the music. It gradually drew closer until it reached the road that they were now walking along, turned the corner and continued on ahead of them.

  ‘What is it?’ Wakana voiced the thought that was also in Sentaro’s mind.

  Three workers stood in the back of the truck, hanging onto a handrail. They were dressed from head to toe in white protective clothing. Sentaro and Wakana didn’t know what the truck was for, but the sight of these workers riveted their eyes.

  ‘Why do they have to wear that?’ Wakana asked.

  ‘Probably because this is a sanatorium – a hospital. I guess people are sensitive about germs here.’ Sentaro blurted out the first thought that came to his mind.

  ‘What about Marvy then?’

  ‘You’re right. A pet in a hospital might be—’

  ‘But Tokue said it’d be okay.’

  Sentaro glanced once more in the direction the truck had gone. If Hansen’s disease was all but eradicated from Japan, what need was there for outlandish gear like that, he thought. No medical workers in the country had been infected through contact with patients. Why then didn’t the workers here wear ordinary clothes? He began to feel anxious about having brought a young girl like Wakana here.

  ‘Aha – people.’ Wakana stopped.

  They had passed the baths and chess hall, and she was looking at what looked like a co-op supermarket, which Sentaro guessed must be the shop. People stood around chatting outside.

  ‘They’re smiling,’ Wakana said, looking straight at them.

  All Sentaro’s tension suddenly dissolved. His nervousness about meeting the residents dissipated the moment he saw them. They were just people. As Wakana said, they were laughing, and looked calm and relaxed.

  One by one, Sentaro and Wakana passed by them as they approached the shop. They saw people with canes, and others holding bags of medicine in both hands. The man on the bicycle was there too. All appeared to be in varying degrees of health, but the one thing they had in common was their advanced age. One person turned and stared hard at Marvy inside his cage. In one group everybody seemed to be wearing sunglasses, perhaps because of some impediment.

  ‘They’re all the same age as Tokue,’ Sentaro whispered to Wakana.

  Then they were at the shop entrance. The door was wide open and they could see inside. It looked no different to any other supermarket. To the right were rows of shelves stocked with food and daily products. To their left was a drinks-vending machine near the wall and several round tables. Sitting alone, at a table next to the wall, was Tokue Yoshii.

  17

  Before Sentaro could say anything Tokue saw them and slowly rose from her seat. Her eyes darted from Sentaro to Wakana and back again. She blinked with one eye while holding her hands against her chest.

  ‘Tokue.’ Sentaro spoke first.

  Tokue bobbed her head in greeting. ‘Oh, it’s been a long time since I saw your face,’ she said. ‘You, too, Wakana, dear.’

  ‘I’m sorry it’s been so long,’ Sentaro answered.

  ‘Yes, it has been a long time.’ Tokue’s face shone with happiness as she turned to Wakana, excitedly flapping her hands. ‘Thank you for coming, both of you.’

  ‘Not at all, we should be thanking you.’ Sentaro held up the birdcage for her to see. ‘Sorry to bother you with this.’

  ‘What a beautiful yellow.’

  ‘I think he’s a lemon canary. He’s called Marvy.’ Wakana explained to Tokue how it had become impossible to keep Marvy at home after all. ‘I didn’t think he’d sing so much,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  ‘So now I’m looking after him, like I told you in the letter,’ Sentaro added.

  Tokue peered into the cage. ‘Marvy,’ she called to him.

  ‘I wonder, though…is it really okay to have pets here?’

  Tokue nodded. ‘Oh, it’s fine. I used to have a canary once.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness,’ Wakana said.

  Sentaro and Wakana were both greatly relieved to hear this.

  ‘There are Neighbourhood Association rules. No dogs because they bark and are noisy, and once somebody got bitten by one. But a cat is okay, so small birds and animals are no problem. It’s all right – I can take care of Marvy for you.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s a big help,’ Sentaro said.

  ‘Why were you worried anyway?’ she asked.

  ‘Well,’ Sentaro hesitated, took a breath and went on. ‘Because on our way here we saw a strange-looking truck. There were three workers standing in the back wearing some kind of protective clothing.’ Sentaro looked at Wakana for confirmation.

  ‘Yes,’ Wakana continued. ‘It looked like space suits.’

  ‘So I thought maybe they have to wear that kind of gear because this is a hospital. And perhaps we shouldn’t bring animals in here.’

  Secretly, Sentaro was worried that people wore those clothes because there was still a possibility of infection, but of course he didn’t mention that. It wasn’t something he could very well say in front of Tokue.

  ‘Oh, I know the truck you mean.’ Tokue shook her head. ‘It’s not what you think. You must have wondered when you saw those outlandish suits. Yes, I can well understand. Nobody wears those suits here now, not workmen, or cleaners, or anyone working in the hospital. That truck was delivering food.’

  ‘A food-delivery truck?’ Wakana asked.

  ‘Yes. It delivers meals. Breakfast, lunch and dinner for people who need it. So they wear the same kind of white uniform that people handling food in restaurants do. But now you mention it, I see what you mean. They’re the only ones whose clothing hasn’t changed since the old days.’

  ‘So that’s it.’

  Sentaro and Wakana looked at each other.

  ‘This place was established over a hundred years ago, but it’s only recently a young girl like Wakana could enter these grounds freely. There’s still a lot that needs changing.’

  Only then did it occur to Sentaro that the people around them were all former Hansen’s patients, and they might be able to hear this conversation. He wondered what they thought of him bringing up the topic of the food-delivery truck.

  ‘It’s all set, then. I’ll take care of Marvy for you.’

  ‘Thank you very much. We appreciate it,’ Sentaro said with a low bow of thanks.

  ‘It’s all right, really.’ Tokue smiled. ‘I’m the one who’s happy. My husband passed on ten years ago and I’m all alone, so it’ll be good to have Marvy for company.’

  ‘You were married? I didn’t know.’

  ‘Yes, I was. We never had children though.’

  ‘But, you never…’ Sentaro’s voice trailed away as he realized where this might lead.

  Tokue sensed his discomfort and went on. ‘I married someone I met here. I’d already recovere
d, but it took a lot longer for my husband. Then he had a relapse…He had a hard life.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear it.’

  There was nothing Sentaro and Wakana could do except listen and absorb Tokue’s words.

  ‘Talking about it even now…’

  People sat at nearby tables drinking tea and coffee. Sentaro noticed them sneaking looks at himself and Wakana.

  ‘But he put up a good fight,’ Tokue continued.

  ‘Did he die because of the relapse?’

  ‘No, Hansen’s disease isn’t terminal. Even people with severe symptoms usually have a full lifespan. My husband had a bad heart. Just as we thought he was in the clear at last, he suddenly passed away.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘But you know, even after death, people here can’t go back home to be buried. He was laid to rest in the charnel house here. I visit him every day.’

  Cheep cheep, cried Marvy.

  ‘He can sing,’ said Tokue.

  ‘Yes, he can,’ Wakana told her. ‘He loves to sing. But my mother said ordinary canaries’ voices sound much better than he does.’

  ‘When mating season comes it might improve,’ Sentaro interposed.

  Tokue laughed. ‘It’d be a pity if he can’t find a mate when it’s time.’ She brought her face up to the cage and mimicked a bird cheeping.

  Wakana looked embarrassed. ‘How about getting another bird then?’ she mumbled.

  ‘Yes, why not? A mate,’ Tokue answered. ‘What do I feed him? Bird food, and some lettuce and maybe some green leaves?’

  ‘Yes. He needs vegetables.’

  ‘He’s got a good appetite, this one,’ Sentaro added.

  ‘Oh dear, excuse me.’ Tokue’s nose had dripped as she leaned over the cage. She pulled a packet of tissues from her pocket. ‘I’ve got a bit of a cold that’s been hanging on for a while.’

  ‘Well that’s understandable. You were tired out by the time you finished up at Doraharu.’

  ‘Yes, I was. I haven’t been quite myself since then.’ Tokue blew her nose. ‘Pardon me,’ she muttered softly. ‘In the old days this would never be forgiven. People used to believe the sickness was spread through nasal mucus. That wasn’t entirely wrong, though.’

  She opened the neck of a drawstring bag and delicately dropped her tissue inside.

  Wakana followed her movement out of the corner of her eye. ‘When did you first come here?’ she asked abruptly.

  Sentaro tried to interrupt but Tokue didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘When I was about your age,’ she said to Wakana.

  ‘My age?’

  ‘Yes. I lived way out in the countryside when I was a child. After Japan lost the war, times were very hard. My elder brother came back from the war in China so thin he looked like a ghost, and there wasn’t enough for the whole family to eat. In the middle of all that my father died. Of pneumonia.’

  ‘Didn’t you have medicine?’ Wakana spoke in a low voice.

  Tokue shook her head and smiled wryly. ‘Not in those days.’

  Cheep cheep, cried Marvy.

  Chatter from surrounding tables rose and fell in waves. Sentaro and Wakana drew closer to Tokue to hear her.

  ‘Eventually my two older brothers found work. My younger sister and I did farm work. Just as we were starting to think we’d get by somehow…out of the blue…I never thought…One day I noticed a red lump on my thigh.’ She pointed to her right leg.

  ‘For a long time I wondered what it was. My mother worried too and took me to see a doctor in the next town, but he didn’t know. He just gave me some medicine to take. After a while it looked like it was spreading. And I was losing feeling in the sole of my foot. When I pinched it, I didn’t feel any pain. I was starting to think it was all very strange, when the doctor called me back, and my mother and elder brother went with me.’

  Marvy had become accustomed to the surroundings by now, and burst into loud song. People from other tables wandered over to look at him. Tokue stopped talking and waited for them to finish commenting on the canary.

  ‘The doctor ordered me to come here, to Tenshoen,’ she continued. ‘I wasn’t told anything but my mother and brother seemed to know what was happening. You can’t imagine what an enormous thing it was in those days to make a journey from home, deep in the country, to the edge of Tokyo. We went home and that night my mother cooked up a special meal using anything she could find. We had fried egg, which was a real luxury then. My sister was over the moon about that at first, but then she started to get sad because my mother was crying. My brother told everyone I might have a serious sickness that was difficult to treat and wouldn’t come home for a while, so we should all be prepared. I did my best to smile and eat everything, but of course I couldn’t get anything down after hearing that.’

  ‘Didn’t they tell you what was wrong?’ Sentaro asked.

  ‘Uh, well…’ Tokue made vague noises, ‘not directly. I never expected this, and didn’t want to believe it might be anything like it. But then next day I had to leave with my oldest brother.’

  ‘What about your mother?’ Wakana asked.

  ‘She came as far as the station. She cried and apologized to me. She’d stayed up late to make me a new blouse from a white knit fabric. I wondered where she found the material. It was a long time since – or maybe even the first time – I’d worn anything like it. When I thought about being away from my family, I was so lonely and scared. I wore that blouse at the station and hugged my mother goodbye. We both cried. My other brother and sister didn’t come to the station – they said goodbye to me at the front door, for the last time. My sister couldn’t stop crying. I was crying too, but I kept telling her it’s okay, I’ll come back. Then I got on the train for the long journey to Tokyo. It took all night to get here, and when we got off my brother finally told me on the platform that I might have leprosy. If it turned out I did, he was going to have to leave me here—’

  Tokue broke off. She looked down at the table and slowly closed her eyes. Then she dug out another tissue with her crooked fingers and gently pressed it to her eyes and nose.

  ‘How old were you then, Tokue?’ Sentaro asked.

  Tokue paused. ‘Fourteen,’ she said finally, then loudly blew her nose. ‘I underwent an examination and afterwards had to get in a disinfectant bath. They disposed of everything I wore or brought with me. I begged the nurse in tears to let me keep the blouse my mother made. But she said no, that was the rule. I asked her to give it to my brother at least so he could take it back with him. Then she told me he’d already gone, that I didn’t have family with me any more. And she said I should use a different name from now on. That’s what they said…that’s what we were told to do…I cried and screamed at the top of my voice – why did this have to happen to me? I knew what would happen. People with leprosy weren’t allowed out in society. I’d seen lepers before and thought they were scary. But never once did I ever imagine that would be me…’ Tokue faltered again.

  ‘What about the blouse?’ Sentaro asked gently.

  ‘I never saw it again. The blouse my mother made disappeared forever. I was given two striped cotton kimonos instead – that’s all patients were allowed. They told me I wouldn’t get any new ones for two years, so I should take good care of them. I was just a girl…’

  ‘Toku, Toku.’ A soft voice came from behind them.

  Tokue looked up. ‘Ah,’ she said, and waved.

  ‘Toku dear, it’s okay. I’ll just leave this here and be off.’

  Sentaro and Wakana turned to look in the direction of the voice. They saw an elderly woman whose face was markedly disfigured – much more severely than Tokue’s – and whose lower lip hung down to reveal her gums.

  Sentaro didn’t know how to react. He and Wakana simply nodded a greeting.

  ‘My name’s Moriyama. Toku and I’ve been making sweets together all these years.’

  ‘I, err…Tokue has been a great help to me.’

  ‘You must be the dorayaki man?�
�

  ‘Yes, that’s me.’

  ‘I wish I could’ve worked there too.’ With this she placed a plastic bag on the table and said, ‘I’ll be running along,’ then smiled and left the shop.

  Sentaro and Wakana could see the bag contained something wrapped in aluminium foil.

  ‘If it doesn’t bother you, why don’t you open it up and have a look?’ said Tokue. ‘Miss Moriyama must’ve been baking.’

  If he were honest, Sentaro did not feel like putting anything from that bag into his mouth. He was still shaken by Tokue’s story, and slightly shocked from seeing someone severely disfigured by Hansen’s disease close-up for the first time. Tokue, sensing Sentaro’s state of mind, reached for the bag and lifted out the foil packet. She opened it up and took out a wafer-thin biscuit.

  ‘Mm, tuile!’

  ‘Twill?’ said Sentaro.

  ‘A French biscuit, very thin and crispy,’ Tokue replied, holding one out each to Sentaro and Wakana. ‘It’s got almond and orange in it. Very easy to make.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot. My business is confectionery but I had no clue…’

  Sentaro took the biscuit and brought it to his mouth. It would be a lie to say he felt no hesitation, but the moment it touched his lips the rich citrus aroma dispelled all doubt. The aroma intensified once he bit into a sliver of almond.

  ‘Mm, this is interesting,’ he said.

  ‘Isn’t it? It smells just like cooked fruit,’ Wakana sounded brighter too. She broke fragments of the tuile off with her fingers and put them in her mouth.

  ‘How did you come to know about a biscuit like this? If you and the other lady have been in here all this time?’

  Tokue made a noncommittal sound and folded the packet of tuile up.