Lion Cross Point

by Masatsugu Ono

  The young man in oil company overalls was Oil Toshi, the heir to the family gas station. He had drooping eyes and buck teeth. Long, dyed-blond hair protruded from his cap. Next to him was a man in a large straw hat, white running shirt, Bermuda shorts, and New Balance sneakers on his bare feet. Takeru knew him well. He was the man in the Hawks baseball cap who’d come to the airport to meet him and Mitsuko. He’d been in elementary school with Yoshio, Mitsuko’s husband. He often dropped by Mitsuko’s house, and had recently brought over a watermelon. Takeru noticed again the long white eyebrows that hung like willow down to his twinkling, mischievous eyes. Looking now at his large nose and eyes, Takeru realized what the man reminded him of. No question: a proboscis monkey. Takeru didn’t know the man’s real name, and like everybody else in the village, called him Hii-chan. In front of the other two was a middle-aged man in a navy T-shirt, tracksuit pants, and white rubber boots. He was tall and well-built, with gleaming eyes. He looked rather like an eagle. Takeru had asked Mitsuko who he was, but he couldn’t remember what she’d said.

  “Hey! Takeru and Saki!” said Hii-chan. “What’re you two up to?”

  The man in white boots glanced at Takeru.

  “Where’d the boy come from?” he asked Hii-chan.

  “I told ya ’fore. He’s stayin’ with Mitsuko. Wakako Tobitaka’s son.”

  “Her name’s not Tobitaka. It’s Tamura,” said Takeru. He could feel sweat rolling down his face.

  “Sorry, Takeru!” said Hii-chan. “Your ma was a Tobitaka ’fore she married—that’s how I ’member her.”

  “Wakako’s son?” muttered the man in the white boots, his eyes curious.

  For some reason Takeru felt a kind of hostility toward him. He kept his gaze on the ground, scared of catching the man’s eye. At his feet was a dark patch on the concrete. It seemed to stick like glue to the soles of his shoes, not letting him move. It wasn’t oil, though. It was his shadow.

  “He’s here for the summer,” said Oil Toshi, coming to Takeru’s rescue. “Third grade, ain’t ya?”

  “He’s a fourth grader. Isn’t that right, Takeru?” Saki said.

  “Isn’t that right,” said Toshi, imitating her. “You sound like a girl from Tokyo!”

  Saki smiled, embarrassed.

  “Anyway, Saki,” Toshi continued, “it’s good that you’re friends with Takeru. There ain’t that many kids your age at school, are there? They put the grades together for classes, right? Won’t be long ’til they close the school completely.”

  “We ain’t the same age,” Saki corrected him. “I told you ’fore—Takeru’s a fourth grader. I’m in second grade.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Toshi. “You’re so tall, nobody’d think ya were in second grade.”

  “Wakako’s son…” said the man in white boots again.

  The man’s boots weren’t, in fact, white. They were streaked with brown dirt. Takeru was still looking down, his gaze now fixed on the man’s boots, white but not white. He didn’t miss the momentary wince in the man’s eyes, though. He didn’t see it, but he knew it was there.

  “Wakako back too?” the man asked Hii-chan. Then he turned to Takeru, and asked him as well. “You come back with your ma?”

  Takeru stared at his shadow on the concrete. He was like the hand of a stopped clock. That’s what he felt.

  “She comin’ later? Is Wakako…is your ma comin’ for ya later?”

  Takeru was silent. He could feel Saki’s worried gaze on his cheek, tickling like an insect, like an ant crawling on his skin. He remembered a couple of ants crossing his brother’s cheek. Maybe there were some tasty crumbs around his mouth. Just as Takeru hated being asked about his brother, he hated people talking about his mother too. He hated it even more when they were people he didn’t know well. He pulled the brim of his cap down over his eyes so that he couldn’t hear.

  He wouldn’t even have heard Bunji whispering in his ear: It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry!

  “He don’t look much like Wakako,” said the man in dirty white boots to Hii-chan.

  “Suppose he look more like his dad,” said Hii-chan.

  The coin in Takeru’s hand seemed to have melted away in the sweat and heat of his clenched fist. He heard the man go on.

  “I was in elementary school with your ma. Two years above her.”

  The man wasn’t smiling (though Takeru had his eyes on the ground and his cap pulled down so didn’t really know that he wasn’t smiling), but his voice was friendly, so it felt as though he was smiling. The man was about to ask another question, but seeing the expression on Hii-chan’s face he changed his mind. Instead he said:

  “Tell your ma Ken Shiomi says ’ello. Say my name and she’ll know right away.”

  Takeru forced himself to nod—it was like swallowing medicine. He wanted to cry. He couldn’t feel the coin in his palm. It had melted away… Had he lost it somehow? That’s why I want to cry, he told himself, fighting back the tears. He pulled his cap down lower still so nobody would see his face. His vision blurred as sweat dripped relentlessly into his eyes. Saki’s gaze was itching on his face.

  Though he could see nothing, because he could see nothing, he saw ants crawling up from somewhere, crawling around his brother’s cheek, arms, shoulders, calves. He didn’t know why he saw it. He knew, but he didn’t know.

  “So what can we do for ya?” Oil Toshi said kindly, leaning in close to Takeru. “You come on an errand?”

  At last Takeru managed to speak.

  “Um…have you got any ice cream?”

  He didn’t know why he said it. He knew the vending machine only sold drinks. As the words struggled from his mouth he held out his clenched hand and opened it.

  And? The flesh of his palm was glistening with sweat. There was nothing else on it but sunlight. The coin had really melted away. But there was no stickiness there, like when ice cream melts. The tears on his cheeks were sticky though. Perhaps that’s why the ants were gathering.

  “Ice cream?” said Oil Toshi. “We don’t sell ice cream…”

  He pretended not to notice Takeru’s empty palm. He’d seen the confusion it had brought to the boy’s face.

  “We got drinks,” he said, pointing to the vending machine beside the office door.

  “Where’d the money go?” Saki whispered in his ear, mystified.

  Still hidden by his cap, Takeru blinked and blinked again. He narrowed his eyes and opened them wide, but the coin that had vanished from his palm did not reappear. He tried pushing up the brim of his cap a little, but that changed nothing. The five-hundred-yen coin had disappeared without a trace. He quietly lifted his palm to his mouth and licked. It was salty, but he thought he also noticed a metallic taste.

  “What ya havin’?”

  Takeru looked up. Ken was standing at the vending machine. He’d already inserted some coins from his pocket, and was poised to push a button.

  “Feelin’ flush, Ken?” said Hii-chan, laughing.

  He turned to Takeru and Saki.

  “Have whatever ya want. Just tell ’im!”

  Toshi nodded.

  “Go on,” he said. “Have somethin’. He says it’s on ’im, so you might as well.”

  It’s okay. It’s okay. Let him!

  Hearing Bunji’s voice, Takeru turned around, but Bunji wasn’t to be seen.

  Takeru said nothing.

  “’kay,” said Toshi. “If you prefer ice cream…”

  “Iced coffee for me, Ken!” shouted Hii-chan.

  A can clunked down into the delivery compartment.

  “I’ve gone and pressed it!” Ken fretted.

  He leaned down and took the coffee from the bottom of the machine. Forcing a smile, he passed the ice-cold can to Hii-chan.

  “You said ‘iced coffee’ so I pressed the button. Didn’t mean to.”

  “I’ll put it back in the machine if ya want,” said Toshi, giving Hii-chan an exaggerated wink.

  “Don’t worry ’bout it,” said Ke
n, with a wave of his hand. “It’s just a can of coffee after all…”

  “In that case, I’ll take it. Thanks!” said Hii-chan with a broad smile, his silver tooth glinting. He opened the coffee and took a sip. “Beautiful—nice and cold. Cheers!”

  “You must be hot standin’ there,” said Ken, putting his hand against Takeru’s back. “You’re covered in sweat. Come over here.” He led Takeru into the shade.

  “You really want an ice cream?” he asked.

  Takeru didn’t answer, so Ken asked Saki.

  “How ’bout you, Saki? Want t’come get one? I’m on my way to town now.”

  “But, um,” mumbled Saki, glancing worriedly across at Takeru.

  “That’s a good idea,” said Hii-chan cheerfully. “It’ll be borin’ for you two ’round here all day. Let Ken take ya into town.”

  “But,” said Saki, “I’ll have to tell my dad.”

  Ken looked amused.

  “Old Tatsuya wouldn’t say no, as long as you’re with me! He ever said no to me takin’ you anywhere ’fore?”

  Saki thought for a while.

  “No, Ken,” she said, sounding reassured.

  “See?” Ken said triumphantly.

  “I’ll let Mitsuko know they’ve gone to town with ya,” said Toshi.

  “Good. Thanks,” Ken said.

  “Don’t come back too late,” said Hii-chan. “Mitsuko’ll be annoyed if they’re late for dinner.”

  “Course!” said Ken, smiling.

  His dark gray car was parked in the shade. He opened the rear passenger door and Saki climbed right in, as though she did it all the time.

  “Uh! It’s boilin’!” she yelped.

  “Hang on…” said Ken. “I’ll put the air-conditionin’ on.”

  He climbed in and turned on the engine. Then he leaned over, opened the front passenger door, and beckoned to Takeru.

  “Hop in!”

  Takeru hesitated, but Bunji gave him a push from behind. Or maybe it was Hii-chan.

  It’s okay. It’s okay. Get in!

  After they’d been driving for a while, Saki leaned forward between the driver and passenger seats. “Ken?” she said. “When’re we gonna go?”

  “Where?” said Ken, puzzled. “To town? We’re goin’ right now.”

  “No!” Saki said, pouting. “Dolphin Village, of course! You said you’d take me!”

  “Oh, that’s what you’re talkin’ ’bout,” he said, nodding.

  “Is that the place where you can swim with dolphins?” asked Takeru, turning to Saki.

  “Yes,” said Saki. “You heard of it?”

  “It must be famous all ’cross the country!” said Ken.

  Takeru shook his head.

  “I heard about it from Hii-chan,” he said.

  It had taken a good two hours to get from the airport to Takanoura, even on the newly built highway. On the way, Hii-chan told Takeru about Dolphin Village—a marine-life amusement park that had opened a few years before. It was just down the coast in Inonome, an area of jagged bays and inlets. Hii-chan had been there the year before with his grandchildren when they came down from Kanagawa for a visit. They had all really enjoyed it.

  “Want t’go, Takeru?” Hii-chan said. “I’ll take you if ya like.”

  “What sort of place is it?” asked Takeru. “Is it a kind of aquarium?”

  “Ain’t no fish there,” said Hii-chan. “Well, there’s a lot of fish, actually,” he laughed, “but they’re just food for the dolphins. You can feed the dolphins yourself, and touch ’em.”

  Takeru suddenly felt breathless. Though the air-conditioning was on, he was very hot. His heart was pounding.

  “What’s the matter, Takeru?” asked Mitsuko, sitting next to him in the back seat of the car. She looked into his face anxiously. “Carsick?”

  Takeru shook his head. “I’m okay,” he said. His voice was weak. “You can’t swim with the dolphins, can you?” he asked.

  “Don’t think so,” said Hii-chan.

  Takeru seemed relieved. Something that had been blocking his chest began to shrink.

  He forced the air from his lungs, trying to get rid of the blockage altogether. But then Hii-chan changed his mind.

  “No. Maybe you can…. Yes. You can if ya make a reservation.”

  “Swim with dolphins?” said Takeru. “You can swim with the dolphins?”

  The rearview mirror showed Hii-chan’s worried frown.

  “What’s wrong, Takeru?” he said. “Why’re you cryin’?”

  Mitsuko put her arm gently around Takeru’s quivering shoulders.

  “A lot of things’ve happened…and he’s been travelin’ since first thing this mornin’. You’re tired, Takeru, ain’t you?”

  Takeru clung to Mitsuko. He tried to curl his body up tight to stop himself from sobbing, but it was no use. There was no controlling it.

  “You done well, Takeru,” Mitsuko whispered soothingly. “Very well.”

  At her words a little more of the thing inside him melted away. His tears flowed on.

  Remembering the journey from the airport now as he sat in Ken’s car, Takeru wanted to cry again.

  “When’ll you take me?” said Saki again.

  “Has your dad said it’s ’kay?” asked Ken, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

  “Old Tatsuya wouldn’t say no, long as I’m with you,” said Saki, echoing Ken’s own words from earlier.

  “One–nothin’,” said Ken with a smile.

  Saki peered at the side of Takeru’s face.

  “You’ll come too, won’t you?” she said.

  “I’ll take ya both,” said Ken. “How ’bout next Sunday? I’m free.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Takeru.

  “Course,” said Ken, nodding. “What’s up, Takeru?” he said, suddenly worried. “You don’t look happy.”

  “Keep your eyes on the road, Ken!” shouted Saki. “It ain’t safe!”

  “What’s wrong, Takeru?” said Ken. “You don’t wanna go? You scared of dolphins?”

  “No I’m not…,” said Takeru.

  “Really? You ’kay? Feelin’ carsick?”

  “I’m fine,” Takeru said.

  But Ken turned on his signal and stopped on the side of the road. A small white truck honked as it came past and Ken sounded his horn in reply. It must have been someone he knew.

  Once Ken was sure that Takeru was all right, he started the car again and drove on.

  They drove through a series of sharp bends, and then Ken took one hand off the steering wheel and pointed out of the open window.

  “There’s Lion Cross Point,” he said.

  He was gesturing toward the tip of a long promontory jutting out into the sea. It was where the coast road took its sharpest turn.

  Ken’s expression softened for a moment, as if he was remembering something. His large eyes narrowed and a happy smile played on his lips.

  “Your ma ever mention Lion Cross Point?”

  “No,” said Takeru, shaking his head.

  Ken looked as though he wanted to say something else, but left it at that.

  “You mean ‘lion’ like ‘lions and tigers’?” asked Takeru.

  “That’s right.”

  Perhaps the scenery had pushed all the worries out of Takeru’s mind. He’d felt cautious about Ken, an unknown man who said he’d known his mother when they were children, but maybe that caution had melted away now—just like the coin had melted away in his hand.

  “Does that mean a lion used to cross the sea here?”

  “Well…” said Ken, cocking his head. “I doubt it.”

  “So why is it called Lion Cross Point?”

  “I wonder,” said Ken. “You’re a clever boy. What grade ya say you’re in? Fourth? Fifth? You speak very politely. You could learn somethin’ from him, Saki.”

  “Yes sir!” said Saki playfully from the back seat. She straightened her thin back and began to titter, shaking like a flower in the wind.

/>   “Do you do any sports?” asked Ken. “Football or somethin’? That’s a Barcelona cap, ain’t it?”

  “I don’t play football,” said Takeru.

  “Baseball? Or maybe—since you’re so polite—judo or kendo?”

  “I don’t do any sports.”

  “So Wakako keeps ya studyin’ hard then. Strict, is she?”

  Takeru said nothing. He felt pain deep inside whenever someone mentioned his mother.

  Ken didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe he took Takeru’s silence as a yes. He glanced at Saki in the rearview mirror.

  “Tatsuya ain’t so strict is he? He ever been angry with ya? I doubt it!”

  “He’s always complainin’ you’re too soft,” Saki retorted. “Says you spoil me.”

  “That’s the truth,” said Ken, laughing.

  It was a big hearty laugh, as though to prevent some ill-omened wind from getting into the car. With the windows open, the laugh itself seemed to smell of fish and salt water. It sank away like a wave as they came around the next bend in the road.

  “That’s the truth,” Ken said again. “But still, what do lions gotta do with this place?”

  “Maybe there were lions here once upon a time,” said Saki, baffled.

  The question lingered, unresolved, as the car navigated the bend of Lion Cross Point. The road then straightened as they approached the village of Ogoura on the next bay.

  “Wow!” said Takeru.

  On some flat ground to the right was a big old boat, its bow facing south. It was just across the road from a two-story concrete building.

  “Does that boat ever move?” asked Takeru.

  It didn’t look as though the boat had been brought there to be repaired. It seemed to be fixed in place with logs and concrete blocks. There were windows in the hull, and curtains visible inside.

  “Oh, that!” said Ken. “No, that don’t move. It’s a guesthouse. The Yamato.”

  It was an old mackerel fishing vessel that had been converted into a guesthouse for people on fishing trips. The Yamato Guesthouse was well known locally.

  “Yamato,” said Takeru quietly. “Like the Yamato Battleship from the Pacific War?”

  “You know a lot,” said Ken as they drove past. “The owner’s named Yamato Kawakami. He’s two years younger’n me, so he was the same grade as your ma.”