by Mariko Koike
Still smiling, Misao turned the key in the lock of the front door of the enchanting new house they would be moving into the next day. Then she and Tamao set off down the road to the station, hand in hand. The tidy, quiet street was quite narrow, but it was lined with uniquely designed, nicely landscaped houses, and every block seemed to boast either a park or a small general store.
“Say, Tamao? I gather Pyoko hasn’t been visiting you lately?” Misao asked in a singsong tone as she bent down to straighten the visor on Tamao’s little white hat.
Tamao studied her mother through narrowed eyes, as if trying to gauge her parent’s mood. Finally she mumbled, “No, he’s still coming.”
“He is?” Misao’s heart sank.
“Uh-huh. Not every day, anymore, but he still comes to see me.”
“And when Pyoko comes to see you, what does he say? He knows you’re going to be moving away, right?”
“Yes, but he was telling me last time that we should move out as soon as possible. He says that building is a very bad place to live.”
“I see,” Misao said, gazing up at the sky. When she closed her eyes against the dazzling rays of the sunshine, she could still feel their warmth soaking through her closed eyelids and bouncing off her face.
“Why do you suppose Pyoko would say something like that?”
“I don’t know, but Pyoko’s been saying the same thing for a long time.”
“So it seems like Pyoko must know something.”
“Uh-huh. Only Pyoko’s just a bird, so he can’t really explain too well.”
Misao almost felt a pang of nostalgia for her own blissful ignorance when, just a few months ago, she had believed that Tamao’s ability to carry on this type of fantastical conversation must be a flaw in her daughter’s psychological makeup: an overactive imagination, perhaps, or a tendency to conflate dreams with reality. Now, though, the talk about Pyoko didn’t faze her at all. After the bizarre things Misao had experienced, hearing that a dead bird had been talking to her child through what sounded like some kind of posthumous interspecies telepathy didn’t even strike her as remarkable.
We only need to make it through tonight, and then we’ll be fine, Misao thought. And surely that will be the end of the visits from Pyoko, too. I think the bird was just coming around because he could sense that Tamao was feeling anxious, and starting tomorrow there won’t be anything to worry about anymore—for any of us.
Starting tomorrow … But would tomorrow, that long-awaited, life-changing day, really arrive without any unforeseen complications? Misao gave a sudden start. Tamao, whose little hands were already sticky with sweat, looked up at her mother with apprehension written all over her face.
Here I am, a full-fledged adult strolling hand in hand with a small child on a clear, sunny summer afternoon, but instead of enjoying the moment I’m wallowing in fear and negativity, Misao thought. That’s simply unforgivable.
Just as the train station loomed into view ahead of them, Misao and Tamao happened upon an ice cream shop. Summoning up a celebratory tone, Misao said, “What do you think, Tamao? Shall we stop for some ice cream?”
“Can we really? Hurray! I want chocolate ice cream.”
“That sounds yummy, but I think Mama’s going to go for the rum raisin.”
Still holding hands, Misao and Tamao tripped lightly into the ice cream parlor, which was thronged with exuberant high school girls dressed in their school uniforms. The mother and daughter didn’t notice the black swallowtail butterfly that had been following close behind them. The gigantic winged insect lingered around the shop’s entrance for a moment, then abruptly flew away.
That evening, Tatsuji and Naomi came over. Tatsuji carried a large overnight bag emblazoned with the Louis Vuitton logo, while Naomi was resplendent in a colorful flower-print summer frock accessorized with a Gucci handbag and an assortment of jangling bracelets—an outfit that seemed better suited to a cocktail party on some glamorous seaside terrace. Her body language made it clear that she had no desire to help her in-laws with their move, and was only doing so with the greatest reluctance. More than likely she had been dragged over by Tatsuji, protesting all the way.
The younger Kanos had brought their car, and while Tatsuji drove Teppei over to the new house to install the living room drapes, Misao began to prepare a simple dinner. She didn’t want to dirty too many pots and pans, so she made curry rice along with a large bowl of salad—a nutritious hodgepodge designed to incorporate all the odds and ends of vegetables from the refrigerator.
From start to finish, Naomi prattled incessantly about fashion and travel, pausing only to ask invasive questions in a tone of selfless concern—things like, “How soon do you think you’ll be able to buy another apartment?” and “How are your family finances these days, anyway?” Misao responded to each query with a smile, but she didn’t divulge any information. She was all too aware that Naomi had enjoyed an exceedingly privileged upbringing, and as a result had grown up to be supremely unaware of the need for respectful boundaries. When she was trying to become friendly with someone, Naomi would always begin either by asking impermissibly nosy questions or by broadcasting her own opinions.
The person I used to be five years ago would have found someone like Naomi very difficult to tolerate, Misao was thinking, bemusedly. Now, though, she was able to give her sister-in-law the benefit of the doubt, because she felt certain that Naomi genuinely wanted the two of them to be on good terms.
“You really lucked out this time, didn’t you, Misao? From what I’ve heard, your new place sounds great.”
“Yeah, we were very lucky this time.”
“The truth is, I’ve always had a problem with graveyards and temples, for as long as I can remember. Maybe it’s a girl thing. I remember when I first heard that you guys were going to move here, I was surprised that you’d be on board with the decision to buy an apartment in this building. It just didn’t make sense to me.”
“Well, at the time I wasn’t really bothered by the temple or the cemetery,” Misao fibbed. “Actually, I still feel that way. I mean, of course, a cemetery isn’t exactly a feel-good place, and I did often find myself wishing we could have been living next to a park instead. But these days people who want the convenience of a central location need to be thick-skinned enough to deal with a few ghosts or whatever, if need be. I’m joking, of course, but I guess my point is that someone who insists on absolute perfection could end up not being able to find any place to live at all.”
Naomi was standing next to the kitchen counter, showing no signs of wanting to help with the dinner preparations. “Okay, but you have to admit that there’s something weird about living in a building where everyone else has already moved away,” she said. “To be honest, it kind of gives me the willies. I mean, we’re going to be all alone here tonight, right?”
“Yes, we’ve been the only ones in the building since the caretakers moved out, and everything’s been fine. Since you and Tatsuji will be staying over tonight, it’s actually going to feel like a party!”
“And you aren’t afraid?”
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Well, I mean, isn’t it a little bit frightening to be a solitary family of three living right in front of a graveyard, with nobody else around?”
“I think you’ve been watching too much TV, Naomi,” Misao teased, borrowing one of Teppei’s standard lines. “Honestly, it hasn’t been bothering us at all. Besides, we’ve been focused on finding a new place and getting ready to move, and we haven’t had time to worry about minor things like that.”
“You’re such a strong person,” Naomi said, her eyes widening in evident admiration. “If I were you, I would have run away a long time ago.”
It’s not as if I didn’t want to, Misao thought, but she forced a smile.
Just then the men returned from their errand. Everyone sat down at the dining table and began to eat, carrying on a sprightly conversation all the while. After dinner Teppei and Tatsu
ji went into the living room to watch a baseball game while Naomi did some desultory table clearing, then wandered off to the nursery to help Tamao pack her toys and stuffed animals.
The technicians wouldn’t be coming to uninstall the air conditioner until the following day, so the apartment was still pleasantly cool. While Naomi and Tatsuji—who appeared to be getting along extremely well—were taking a bath together, Misao and Teppei laid out a double futon for the guests on the floor of Tamao’s room.
“You’re going to sleep with Papa and Mama tonight, all right?” Teppei said when Tamao wandered into the nursery holding her teddy bear.
“Woa-kay,” Tamao rejoined. “But Pooh-Bear has to sleep with us, too.”
“That’s fine. So there’ll be four of us, instead of three,” Teppei said, patting Tamao’s head. “It’s going to be fun—almost like going on a camping trip!”
Tamao laughed delightedly as she left the room, pulling Cookie, who had trotted in behind her, along by the collar.
“It’s pretty amazing that the place we’re moving to is so nearby,” Teppei said as he used both hands to smooth out some lumps in the fluffy comforter that covered the guest futon. “It should be an easy move.”
“I just can’t help wondering how Tatsuji and Naomi really feel about helping,” Misao said.
“Well, Tatsuji offered ages ago, and they seemed perfectly willing to come over tonight, so I wouldn’t worry about it. I doubt if they have anything better to do. Even so, we’re going to owe them, big-time. But hey, more important, what’s with Naomi’s outfit, anyway? Is she seriously planning to wear that tomorrow during the move? I couldn’t believe it when she turned up tonight wearing a fancy dress with trailing skirts, like some princess in a fairy tale.”
“I don’t see the problem,” Misao said with a wry smile. “There won’t be that much work for her to do, and it’ll be a huge help for me if she can just keep an eye on Tamao tomorrow.”
Teppei stretched out his neck and made a humph sound, then flopped down across the newly laid bedding. “I never imagined we’d end up leaving this place so soon,” he said. “It seems like only yesterday we were moving in.”
“No one could have seen this coming, but we really didn’t have a choice,” Misao said. “We couldn’t very well go on living in a place that felt so unsafe.”
“If we ever tried to tell someone from the outside world about what’s happened here, they’d probably think we were crazy,” Teppei mused.
“It’s one of those things you just can’t talk about, but eventually there will probably be rumors floating around,” Misao said. “I mean, after we leave tomorrow morning, this building will be completely deserted.”
“I still can’t fathom it,” Teppei muttered, turning over onto his back and scowling up at the ceiling. “I simply don’t believe some of the things we’ve experienced, even though I saw them with my own eyes.”
“If only it really had just been a bad dream. Then we could have woken up the next morning and said, ‘Oh, thank goodness.’ That kind of thing used to happen to me a lot in the old days. You know, I’d be in the throes of some really dire nightmare and I would cry out in my sleep, and then when my eyes finally popped open it would be such an incredible relief to find myself lying in my own bed, with the morning sunlight streaming in through an open window. Even after we got together, that happened quite a few times. Then I would wake up and see you sleeping next to me, and I’d be flooded with infinite happiness. I can’t even describe how happy I felt.”
“Yes, but the nightmarish things we’ve encountered here really did take place. They weren’t dreams, at all,” Teppei said soberly.
“No, of course you’re right.” Misao nodded. After a long moment of silence she and Teppei both smiled, more or less in unison.
“Anyway, the bottom line is that tomorrow we’ll be embarking on a new chapter of our lives. The best thing is just to focus on that now, and put the past behind us,” Teppei said.
“I couldn’t agree more. Oh, by the way, are you going to take a bath with Tamao tonight?”
“Yes, that’s the plan. It’s just that lately whenever we bathe together she’s been looking at my … uh, appendage, and making comments.”
“What sort of comments?”
“Oh, just things like ‘Hey, look, Papa has a little banana hanging down!’”
“And what did you say in reply?” Misao asked, giggling softly.
“Hey, give me a break,” Teppei protested, but he was chuckling, too. “I mean, what could I say? I just blushed like a schoolboy and looked down at the bathwater.”
Misao giggled again, more loudly this time, then gave Teppei’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I don’t suppose you could have tried to pretend that her eyes were playing tricks on her, and passed it off as an optical illusion?”
“Let’s face it, Tamao is always going to be one step ahead of her poor old parents. She’s really going to be a handful, mark my words.” They both started laughing, and the conversation ended with an agreement that after the move they should probably make an effort to provide their precocious little daughter with some preliminary sex education, or at least an anatomy lesson.
Tatsuji and Naomi emerged from the bathroom, and Teppei and Tamao went in to take their turn. Misao, meanwhile, busied herself with packing up the assorted knickknacks and other small items in the master bedroom. The wooden memorial tablet for Teppei’s first wife, Reiko, was in a small Buddhist altar that they had ended up hiding away in the closet. Misao took out the tablet, swathed it tightly in several layers of cloth, and laid it on the bottom of an overnight bag that she planned to hand-carry to the new house.
After she placed the tablet in the bag, Misao got the unmistakable feeling that it was moving, ever so slightly. When she picked the tablet up again she saw that the cloth covering it was partially unfurled and the front of the tablet, which bore Reiko’s posthumous Buddhist name, was clearly visible. Misao felt frightened for a moment, but she assured herself that it was nothing. There had to be a rational explanation for why the cloth had come unrolled, even though she had taken pains to make sure the tablet was snugly wrapped.
In any case, she thought, beginning tomorrow we can say good-bye to this ridiculously edgy mental state we’ve been in, where we freak out every time anything a tiny bit unusual happens. Because of all the recent chaos, Misao had been obliged to cancel her freelance-illustration assignments, and she needed to try to reschedule them as soon as possible. It seemed that no matter how much money she and Teppei brought in, it was never enough, and now they were going to be maintaining two residences: paying the mortgage here until this apartment sold, along with the monthly rent on the new place. Oh well, they would just have to hunker down and make it work somehow.
Tatsuji stuck his head in the bedroom door. “Hi there,” he said, almost shyly. “Would it be okay if I helped myself to a beer?”
“Please, have as many as you like. Or rather, have as many as you can drink without giving yourself a hangover! We have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, I’m well aware of the early wake-up call.”
“Seriously, though, Tatsuji, I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this.”
“No, it’s totally fine,” Tatsuji said with a laugh. “It feels like we’re having a slumber party with the whole family and it’s really kind of fun, for a change.”
The two in-laws smiled at each other, and then they said good night.
18
July 26, 1987
After a night filled with surreal dreams, Misao awakened with the feeling that she hadn’t had a single minute of solidly restorative sleep. Painfully aware of her physical and mental weariness, she threw off the quilt and struggled into a sitting position.
It was half past seven. The moving truck was scheduled to arrive around ten, so there was no time to spare. Misao reached out and shook the broad back of her husband, who lay beside her, completely still. Sleeping the sleep
of the dead, she thought. “Honey, wake up,” she said. “We need to get up right now.”
Teppei opened his eyes a crack and looked at Misao with a sullen expression. Then, as if to say, “I’m in a bad mood, but it has nothing to do with you,” he silently turned over and flung one arm around her waist.
Just then, Tamao’s eyes suddenly popped open. (She’d begun the night sandwiched between her parents, but had gradually migrated to the bottom of the bed.) “Good morning, sleepyhead!” Misao said. Tamao didn’t reply. She looked as though she hadn’t slept a wink all night, and Misao figured she was probably keyed up about the move.
“Come on, people, time to rise and shine,” Misao ordered. “There’s still quite a bit to do.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Teppei mumbled sleepily. “Have you checked the weather?”
Looking at the light streaming in through the curtains, Misao replied, “It looks like a beautiful day—it’s clear again, even though we’re still in the summer rainy season. It’s probably going to be another scorcher, too. All right, Tamao, you need to get up now. Run and get dressed and wash your face, okay?”
They had left the air conditioner running on a low setting overnight, so the room was still pleasantly cool. Misao climbed out of bed and quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Even that small amount of movement caused her to break out in a light sweat. Yes, it was definitely going to be another hot one.
Abruptly, Tamao sat bolt upright, like a jack-in-the-box leaping out of its container. “Mama?” she said.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“Is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?” Misao asked, giving her head a quizzical tilt. “Of course, everything’s fine. It’s just going to be a very busy day, that’s all.”