Reiko

by James Avonleigh

  16. IN THE WOODS

  The morning began quietly enough.

  Sarah was enjoying a lie-in and I lay there for a while watching her as she slept. I only hoped she wouldn’t suddenly wake and demand to know why I was there beside her.

  I got up and went through to the bathroom, averting my eyes in front of the cabinet mirror, then turning it to face the wall. I wasn’t taking any chances. I took a long, leisurely shower, scrubbing my body thoroughly, as though to cleanse myself of my troubled dreams. Everything I’d seen and every sensation I’d felt was still with me, down to the aching pain in my back where the knife had entered my body. Though I only had a limited grasp of the power of the mind, the strength of this feeling was unnerving. Had I felt more comfortable with the mirror, I might even have checked my back for marks.

  I got dressed, made a cup of coffee and stepped out onto the balcony. Standing there, breathing in the clean air of rural Japan, it was as if I’d been given a second chance at life, as though I had indeed died in the woods, then come back to make good the terrible waste I’d made of my life. And I’d been given this glorious day at this glorious stage of life to show what I could achieve.

  I stood there for a long time, drinking my coffee, gazing at the houses and farms beyond the apartment block perimeter. I saw people riding bikes, taking the rubbish to the bins, hanging out washing and generally getting on with their lives. It was the first time since coming to Japan that I’d taken the time to watch people going about their ordinary business. I’d come to Izumi because I’d heard it was haunted: a cursed village with a history of horrific violence. But it now struck me that this was just a place where people lived, raised families and grew old. This was their home. What right did I have to come here, digging for clues, trying to make theories, perpetuating the myths that had dogged it for centuries? Whatever had happened in the past had no bearing on the present. It had just been bad luck. And the last thing ordinary inhabitants wanted was for people like me to come in and make an issue out of it.

  I was still considering these worthy sentiments when Sarah came out to join me wearing a silk dressing gown, hair tied back in a ponytail. I wished I could tell her how beautiful she looked, standing there in the morning sun.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, coming to lean on the balcony next to me.

  ‘Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about last night. You’re right, I’ve been pretty highly strung since I arrived. A lot of things have happened and I need to take it easy.’

  She smiled and tilted her head towards the sun. ‘These are days to cherish,’ she said quietly.

  I took it as a compliment that she regarded days spent with me as ones to cherish. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d shown me the door after my performance the previous night.

  ‘Pull up a chair,’ she said, in a tone that suggested she had business to discuss.

  I did as she asked, hoping this wasn’t where she sent me packing.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about something,’ she said. ‘I wanted to run it by you. I don’t know if this is a good time.’ There was a definite edge to her voice.

  I said that it was as good a time as any. I was intrigued to hear what was on her mind.

  She sat back in her chair and knitted her eyebrows, searching for the appropriate words. Then she looked at me with such seriousness that I had to look away. ‘A couple of things happened yesterday which you couldn’t explain.’

  I nodded.

  ‘You told me you were worried you could be losing your mind.’

  I nodded again.

  ‘Well I was thinking, what if what you saw was real?’

  This time I didn’t nod. I looked hard at Sarah and it was her turn to look away.

  ‘I know it’s not your preferred theory, but what if it really was there. Not just in your mind.’

  I looked for some sign that she was having me on. But there wasn’t a flicker.

  ‘What if it wasn’t a hallucination?’

  ‘Just say what you mean.’

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘What if you actually did see a ghost?’

  I stared out at the hills. It was the one possibility I wasn’t ready to entertain. I’d talked about stress and strain, jet-lag, culture-shock, food poisoning, hallucinations, but at no point had I talked about ghosts. Here I was studying the damn things and I absolutely refuted them. They undermined the basis of everything I believed in: my conviction that the material world was governed by rational laws and my complete rejection of religion and superstition.

  ‘You have to at least consider the possibility.’

  ‘I don’t believe in ghosts,’ I said gruffly.

  ‘It’s one possible explanation,’ she said. ‘That’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Not a very good one though.’

  She looked at me, irritated. ‘Why can’t you admit it’s a possibility? Can’t you accept that there might be something in it? Just say it’s a possibility.’

  I ran my hand over my face. I wanted desperately to say ‘yes’, if only to please Sarah, if only to keep her on my side. She was right. Couldn’t I just admit it as a possibility? ‘I don’t know,’ I said at last.

  Sarah took this as an admission. ‘What if this girl, assuming it’s the one we think it is, is trying to get in touch with you?’

  ‘Why?’ I asked, bewildered.

  ‘I don’t know. I remember reading in Charlie’s notes about ghosts in the Buddhist tradition. They’re usually people who’ve met some sudden, violent end and don’t have enough repose in their last minutes to achieve nirvana. So they stick around with unfinished business. Wouldn’t this girl fit the profile? And couldn’t that be a reason why she’s appearing to you?’

  ‘Ghosts don’t reason, they just do,’ I said, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.

  ‘You say these things about how ghosts are supposed to behave and at the same time you say you don’t believe in them. You can’t have it both ways.’

  ‘I’m just repeating what I’ve read.’

  We sat in silence, Sarah allowing me some breathing space. I knew it was reasonable for her to say these things. God knows I’d been up half the night thinking them myself. But it was in my nature to fight them and I couldn’t easily capitulate. And the same question kept recurring: why me? I was just a passing tourist, with no connection to the village. What would a spirit of the dead want with me? What could I do to help her?

  But there was another, darker question which I knew Sarah was thinking, but couldn’t put to me. Mrs Azuma had already told us that Charlie had been visited by ghosts. I had justified his suicide on that basis. It had never occurred to me that I, who believed completely in my own sanity, could go down that same road. Had the same apparitions that now appeared to me also appeared to Charlie? And had he seen the same dreams that I now saw?

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Sarah asked.

  I decided to come clean. ‘About Charlie.’

  She nodded solemnly.

  I had no idea what circumstances had driven Charlie to kill himself, but the feeling that our destinies were somehow linked was stronger than ever. Against my better nature, I’d started to believe there were forces in Izumi I couldn’t defend against, forces that eventually overwhelmed Charlie. Was I really any different to Charlie? Was I any stronger than he was? At least I knew there was one significant difference between us. When Charlie had come to Izumi he had come alone, without friend or ally, whereas I had Sarah on my side. Sarah made me feel safe. Whatever happened, Sarah would never let me come to harm.

  And however much I tried to pretend that Izumi was just an ordinary place, where ordinary people went about their lives quietly, I knew it wasn’t true. Izumi was different. Izumi was cursed.

  There was one thing in Izumi beyond reproach and that was the cherry blossom. As we drove through the village, the trees lined the roads and the blossom cascaded over garden fences and peppered the surrounding hills. While I’d known
of the cherry blossom as one of Japan’s symbols, I’d never imagined how prolific it was, nor how breathtaking.

  Sarah and I had spoken little since our conversation on the balcony. It wasn’t so much a bad atmosphere, as a cooling-off period. She knew what she’d said had been difficult for me to accept and she was prepared to give me some time.

  She’d promised Aya she’d drop in at the high school that morning and had offered me the option to stay at home or go out exploring on my own. The idea of being on my own didn’t appeal so I opted to tag along. I didn’t say as much to Sarah, but I didn’t know how I’d handle another visitation without her to help me through.

  As we drove through the school gates, I had an uneasy sense of deja-vu. Since my one previous daylight visit, I had made two nightly visitations which had been every bit as real. Against my better judgement I scanned the third floor windows, but thankfully saw nothing.

  We entered the foyer and I was struck by how bright it was. After two nocturnal visits, I wasn’t used to seeing everything in such a stark light. We turned left and walked past the stairwell, where I’d stepped in a pool of blood just two nights before. We headed towards the staffroom and I saw that the corridor was just as I’d seen it in my dream, right down to the door at the end with the bar handle. It wasn’t a detail I remembered from my original visit and one I’d assumed to be a creation of my imagination.

  Perturbed, I followed Sarah into the staffroom to find it a lot emptier than before. Aya was sitting alone at her bank of desks looking dreamily out of the window.

  ‘Working hard?’ Sarah said, approaching her with a grin.

  Aya emerged from her daydream with a start. ‘Hello,’ she said with her trademark smile. ‘What are your plans for today?’

  ‘More ghost-hunting,’ Sarah said and gave me a nudge.

  ‘In the school?’

  ‘No, just out and about.’

  Aya looked round as if surprised to see the place so deserted. ‘It’s very quiet here today. Saturday is always quiet out of term, especially for teachers with families.’ She looked a little sad, conscious that she couldn’t count herself among the latter group.

  ‘Have you got any work?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘No, I just have to be here this morning. It’s a formality.’

  I’d found myself thinking about my dream again, about the coincidence of the door at the end of the corridor being exactly as I’d seen it in my dream. I had an urge to go and check it out.

  ‘Is it all right if I stroll around for a bit?’

  Aya got up with an enthusiastic smile. ‘I can come. I need a break. I need a break from doing nothing.’

  We stepped out into the corridor and turned left towards the door at the end. I knew that Sarah would’ve guessed my intentions. But I couldn’t explain to Aya why I was suddenly interested in the bar handle at the end of the corridor. The last thing I wanted was for her to think me a basket-case. I may have gained Sarah’s acceptance, but Aya might not understand.

  ‘Where do you want to go?’ she asked.

  ‘Just out here,’ I said, as we reached the door. I could see it was very similar to the door I’d seen in my dream. But then it was similar to most doors of its type. Maybe I was overreacting. I was about to push the door open when I noticed the door to my right, the door I’d used in my dream. It was similar, but again, all the doors in the school looked identical.

  ‘What’s in there?’ I asked, approaching the door and trying the handle. It was locked.

  Aya looked confused by my interest. ‘I don’t know. A storage room, I think. It’s used by the cleaners.’

  I nodded, trying to look nonchalant. I hadn’t filled Sarah in on all the details of my dream, but I guessed she was piecing it together as we went along.

  At least there was nothing strange about wanting to take a stroll round the playing fields. It was a bright day, and they were surrounded by picturesque woods.

  ‘The cherry blossoms are spectacular just now,’ Sarah said, getting on to a safe topic.

  I was grateful for her help. I was on an unusual quest and I was happy for her to distract Aya.

  They continued to talk about cherry blossom and the changing seasons, while I looked about me, reliving the dream in all its awful detail. We passed the gate I had seen in my dream and I noted the chain holding it fast. There was nothing unusual about that. You’d expect a back gate in a school to be chained shut and, besides, I’d noticed it on our previous stroll with Aya.

  We walked on, Aya and Sarah deep in conversation. Without thinking I found myself glancing over my shoulder to check we weren’t being followed. Even in the full light of day and with the company of Aya and Sarah, I could still see in my mind’s eye the dark shadow moving swiftly across the field, intent on harm. I didn’t feel comfortable strolling at a leisurely pace. I wanted to run. I could feel the cold fingers of terror prickling at the back of my neck.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Aya had noticed my unease.

  ‘I dreamt I was here last night,’ I blurted out, suddenly wanting to unburden myself, wanting her to understand. ‘I dreamt I was being followed. I dreamt someone was trying to hurt me.’

  There, I’d said it. I saw Sarah glance at me, surprised I’d given away so much, so candidly.

  ‘Who was following you?’ Aya asked, bemused by my admission. She had just been having a nice chat with Sarah about cherry blossoms and here I was confessing to nightmares. I felt a little ashamed, but at least it was out in the open.

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t see.’

  We got to the corner of the field and I approached the point where the fences intersected, the place where I’d slipped through in my dream. I pulled at the back fence, just as I’d done in the dream and, sure enough, there was room for me to pass. I tried to tell myself this was coincidence. It was an old fence and hardly surprising that the joins were weak.

  ‘Did you come this way in your dream?’ Sarah asked

  I nodded. ‘You walk on. I might just have a look around here.’

  Aya was watching me a little unsurely and I could understand why. My behaviour must have appeared extremely odd. Just two weeks earlier I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of acting like this. But times had changed.

  ‘I don’t mind coming,’ Sarah said, offering welcome support. ‘I’ve always wondered what’s out there.’

  Aya still seemed unsure. Perhaps squeezing through a hole in the fence was an improper way for a teacher to behave. But curiosity got the better of her and she nodded her consent. I was pleased that they both wanted to come with me. I was starting to develop a fear of being on my own.

  I led the way through the fence and into the woods, heading in the general direction I’d gone in my dream, with Sarah and Aya following at a short distance. The woods were dark and the sun struggled to penetrate the dense canopy of branches overhead. Here and there, thin shafts of light pierced the gloom, producing little pools of sunlight on the leafy floor. It all seemed very familiar, but I told myself all woods shared similar characteristics.

  I knew what I was searching for. The one thing that I couldn’t have known about, that I couldn’t have constructed from my imagination. It was a strange, hopeless pilgrimage, but I had to make it.

  ‘What about that clearing you saw?’ Sarah shouted to me. ‘The one with the rock.’

  ‘It was a dream,’ I said, turning round. ‘It was a dream. Nothing more.’

  She came alongside me with Aya. ‘Then what are you out here looking for?’

  She knew as well as I did, but she wanted me to say it. She wanted to me to admit what I’d refused to contemplate that morning.

  I turned from her and walked on.

  I knew it couldn’t be. Seeing something reflected in a dark mirror was one thing. There were any number of explanations for it. Insanity was one. Or a hallucination, the product of a tired and unsettled brain. But to see a place in a dream that I’d never seen in life was impossible. It was beyond the realm of
ghosts and goblins and other apparitions. It was something I couldn’t bear to contemplate.

  For a while we trudged in silence and I sensed the unease of my companions. Even Sarah would be wondering how far I was going to go before giving up. She was no doubt worrying about Aya, who would be too polite to say that she’d had enough and wanted to go back. I began to wish I’d gone on my own and never mentioned my dream. But my thought processes were becoming increasingly divorced from my actions.

  Just as I was on the point of aborting the quest, I saw something up ahead which gave me pause. I broke into a trot.

  The next few moments of my life passed in slow motion. I sunk to my knees and groped for the mossy floor to steady myself. My eyes grew heavy and my head grew dizzy.

  I saw everything as it was. I saw the root where I’d fallen. I saw the tree that had sheltered me. And up ahead I saw the clearing as it had been, as it had always been. A luminous carpet of moss washed in sunlight and a weather-worn rock left there by accident or design.

  I collapsed face down on the moss, feeling it cool against my cheek, my mind a riot of confused impressions. I saw Sarah kneel down next to me and touch the side of my face. I saw Aya hovering there, her hand over her mouth, looking down at me.

  I didn’t know how to react. Nothing in my experience had prepared me for this moment and nothing in my life would ever be the same. I had experienced something manifestly impossible. I had been granted a vision of something. I just didn’t know what or why. Had I seen something that had already happened or was yet to happen? Had I experienced someone else’s death or foreseen my own?

  Questions continued to swirl around my head as together we retraced our steps back out of the woods. Aya had mercifully not heard me describe my dream beforehand, but she guessed that something was terribly wrong. But to Sarah I had described my dream in detail and she would now know there were other forces at work, that I wasn’t simply deranged.