Out

by Natsuo Kirino

  Unlocking the door, Yayoi stepped into the dim house. Perhaps because the children were here, she was struck by the familiar smell of home, like the scent of a puppy sleeping in the sun. And now the house belonged to her and her kids and to no one else. Kenji wouldn't be coming back - but from now on she would have to be sure she didn't let on that she knew he wouldn't. She wondered a bit uneasily whether she'd be convincing in the role of the worried wife. After all, she still felt a tingle of excitement when she recalled the sight of his lifeless body slumped in the doorway. Serves the bastard right! She had never used that kind of language in her life before. Nor had she ever been hunting - so why had she felt the sort of thrill one got from chasing down an animal in the wild? Perhaps she'd always been that kind of person but had just never had a chance to find out.

  Feeling a bit calmer, she looked around the entrance hall for traces of Kenji as she slipped out of her shoes. It occurred to her that she couldn't remember which shoes Kenji had been wearing. Checking the shoe cupboard, she saw to her relief that his new shoes were missing: at least Masako had not had to deal with his dirty old ones.

  She peeked into the bedroom and noted happily that both children were still asleep. As she replaced the blanket that the younger boy had kicked off, she felt a momentary pang of regret for having robbed them of their father.

  'But Papa wasn't the old Papa any more,' she muttered aloud, then realised to her horror that the older boy, five-year-old Takashi, was awake. He was looking around for her, his eyes blinking anxiously. Yayoi went to him and began gently patting his back. 'I'm home,' she said quietly. 'Everything's fine. Go back to sleep.'

  'Is Papa home?' he asked.

  'Not yet,' said Yayoi. He looked around nervously for a

  moment, but she went on patting him until he dropped off again. The thought of what she would be facing in the next few hours made her realise she should probably try to get some sleep herself. Under the circumstances, she doubted she'd be able to settle down; but as she rubbed the bruised spot on her stomach, she drifted off almost immediately.

  -

  'Mama, where's Milk?'

  She woke abruptly when her younger boy, Yukihiro, jumped on her futon. It was difficult to pull herself away from her dreams and back to reality. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at the clock. It was already past 8.00 and she had to have the boys at their daycare centre by 9.00. She hopped out of bed still dressed, her clothes slightly damp with sweat.

  'Mama, Milk's not here,' Yukihiro was still whining. 'He's around somewhere,' Yayoi said, folding up the futon as she replayed the events of the night before in her mind. She finally managed to remember that the cat had fled through the crack in the door after she'd killed Kenji. It seemed strange that some of the details were already becoming vague, as if they'd happened long ago.

  'I said he isn't here!' the boy sobbed. He was the rougher, more boyish of her two sons, but he was unusually fond of the cat. She turned to look for the older boy with the idea of having him look after the little one.

  'Takashi,' she called. 'Could you take your brother to look for Milk?' A moment later, Takashi appeared in his pyjamas, looking anxious and gloomy.

  'Did Papa leave for work already?' he asked. For some time now, Kenji had been sleeping in the little room off the entrance hall when he got home late from work. Takashi had apparently gone to look for him there as soon as he woke up.

  'No, he must have stayed somewhere else. He never came home last night.'

  'That's not true,' Takashi said. 'He did come home.' Yayoi stared at him, horrified. When his pale, delicate face was strained with worry as it was now, he looked just like her.

  'What time?' she asked. Hearing the quaver as her voice trailed off, she realised that this was the first round in what was going to be a long fight. She steeled herself for the task of deceiving her son.

  'I don't know what time,' Takashi said, sounding very grownup. 'But I heard him come in.' Yayoi felt a wave of relief.

  'You heard him? You probably just heard Mama leaving for work. Now hurry up or we'll be late.' He started to protest, but she ignored him and turned to watch Yukihiro searching under the sofa and behind the kitchen cabinet. 'I'll look for the cat,' she said. 'You two get ready.'

  Yayoi made breakfast with what she had in the kitchen and then dressed the boys in their rain ponchos. She put them on her bicycle, one in front and one behind, and rode them to the daycare centre; and when she had them safely delivered, she felt a certain peace of mind. She suddenly wanted to call Masako right away to find out how things had gone, or even to ride over to her house to see for herself. But Masako had said that she was to wait until she heard from her, so she gave up the idea of phoning and hurried home.

  When she reached the alley, a middle-aged neighbour was shuffling about, umbrella in one hand, cleaning up the garbage collection area. As she worked, she grumbled to herself about the sloppy way the people in the nearby apartment building put out their trash. Yayoi greeted her reluctantly.

  'Good morning,' she said. 'It's good of you to take care of this.' The woman's reply was unexpected.

  'Oh, isn't that yours?' she asked, pointing toward a white cat that was hiding by a telephone pole. It was Milk.

  'It is,' said Yayoi. 'Here, Milk! Here, Milk!' she called, holding out her hand. The cat arched its back and mewed. 'You'll get wet. Come inside,' she said, but Milk ran off in the opposite direction.

  'That's odd,' said the woman. 'What do you suppose got into him?' Trying to control her impatience in front of her neighbour, Yayoi continued calling the cat's name. He'll probably never come back . . . just like Kenji. She stared blankly at the spot where he'd vanished.

  -

  Yayoi's daily schedule was an unusual one: after getting home in the early morning from the night shift, she would make breakfast for Kenji and the children, take the boys to the day-care centre, and only then would she get some sleep. She hadn't really wanted to work at night, but there weren't many places that would hire a mother with young children who had to take time off unexpectedly. Before starting at the boxed-lunch factory, she'd worked part-time as a checker at a supermarket; but between refusing to work Sundays and staying home frequently with sick children, she hadn't lasted long. The night shift was hard on her physically, but it did pay better than day work and she could put the children to bed before she had to leave for the factory. Also, she'd been fortunate to find co-workers like Masako and Yoshie.

  She wondered how she was going to manage from now on without Kenji's salary. But they'd made do these past few months without it; this would be no different. They'd figure out something. It seemed to Yayoi that she'd somehow grown stronger since last night.

  She wanted to make the call to Kenji's office as soon as possible, but it might seem strange if she called too early. Deciding to stick to her usual routine, she took half a sleeping pill and lay down. This time she had trouble falling asleep, and no sooner had she dozed off than she woke in a cold sweat from a vivid dream that she was lying next to Kenji. Shaking off its after-effects, she turned over and at last fell fast asleep.

  Some time later, she woke to the distant sound of the telephone ringing. Thinking that it might be Masako, she hopped out of bed, only to find that she was still dizzy from the sleeping pill.

  'My name is Hirosawa,' said the voice on the phone. 'Is your husband there?' The call was from the small construction-supplies company where Kenji worked. So it's starting, she thought, collecting herself.

  'No,' she said.'... You mean he isn't there?'

  'Not yet,' said Hirosawa. She had hesitated because she was unsure of the time. She turned to check the clock on the wall and saw that it was already past 1.00.

  'Actually, my husband never came home last night. I don't know where he stayed, but I thought he'd be at the office by now. I know how angry he gets when I call there, so I was just wondering what I should do.'

  'I see ... ' the man stammered, perhaps feeling he ought to keep up
a show of male solidarity. 'You must have been worried.'

  'Well, he's never done anything like this before, so I didn't know what to think. I was just about to phone you.' Yayoi had remembered that Hirosawa was the head of the sales section and Kenji's boss. Picturing his thin, unappealing face, she willed herself into the role of the worried yet slightly embarrassed wife.

  'Now don't you worry,' said Hirosawa. 'He's probably just sleeping off a hangover somewhere. Oh, sorry - that probably doesn't make you feel much better. But your husband has never missed work for no reason, so I'm sure there's a simple explanation. Stress . . . yes, that's probably it. He's feeling under a strain and just went off somewhere. That happens a lot these days.'

  'Without even phoning home?' Yayoi cut in.

  'Well...' Hirosawa murmured, clearly at a loss.

  'But what do you think I should do?'

  'Well, why don't we do this. Let's wait until this evening, and if he still hasn't shown up by then, we could think about filing a missing persons report.'

  'Where would I do that?' she asked. 'At the police station?'

  'No, I don't think so. Why don't you let me check on that, and you sit tight and try not to worry. Men do stupid things sometimes, it's just the way we are. It's not as though he's really gone missing.'

  After putting down the phone, Yayoi looked around the quiet room. She noticed that it had finally stopped raining, and then suddenly realised she was hungry. She hadn't eaten anything since last night. She thought about finishing off the leftovers from the breakfast she'd fed the boys, and perhaps there was some rice in the steamer; but at the sight of the food, she knew she couldn't eat it. As she poked at her plate with her chopsticks/the phone rang again.

  'Hello. It's Hirosawa.'

  'Oh, thank you for calling back. Did you find out anything?'

  'Well, we talked it over here, and we're wondering how you'd feel about waiting until tomorrow morning before we call anyone.'

  'Oh,' Yayoi sighed. 'Still, I see what you mean. It's embarrassing to make a fuss if it turns out to be nothing.'

  'No, it's not that. It's just that we thought it might be best to wait a bit. And then if he's still not back tomorrow, we'd have to think something might have happened - an accident perhaps and we'd want you to phone the police.'

  'The police?' said Yayoi.

  'Yes, if he wasn't back, you would just phone 911.' In other words, thought Yayoi, tomorrow morning I'll be phoning the police, because there's no way that Kenji is ever coming home again.

  'But I'm too worried to wait,' she said. 'I think I'd rather phone this evening if he's still missing.'

  'You mean contact the police?'

  'Yes. I couldn't stand it if he's been in an accident and they've taken him somewhere. This is the first time anything like this has happened and I'm a little upset.'

  'I understand,' he said. 'Then you should do whatever makes you feel comfortable. But I'm sure he'll be walking in the door any minute, looking pretty ashamed of himself.'

  I seriously doubt it, she thought, deciding that she would go ahead and phone the police before the end of the day. That would be more natural, as though she were genuinely concerned. But when had she become so cold and calculating, she wondered, as she hung up the phone.

  -

  A little past 4.00, as she was getting ready to pick up the kids at the day-care centre, the phone rang again.

  'It's me.' Masako's voice was low and clipped.

  'Oh, I'm so glad,' said Yayoi, her voice trembling with a mixture of relief and anxiety. 'How did it go?'

  'It's all over and you've got nothing to worry about. But the situation has changed slightly.'

  'Changed how?'

  'The Skipper and Kuniko helped out.' Yayoi had known that Yoshie was going to be asked, but nothing had been said about Kuniko. They all got along well enough at the factory, but still was flashy Kuniko someone you could trust? She felt a sudden panic.

  'Do you think Kuniko is okay?' she said. 'She won't talk, will she?'

  'Well, we didn't have much choice. She showed up right in the middle of everything and saw what we were doing. But if you think about it, she already knew that your husband had hit you and that he'd gambled away all your savings. If she'd mentioned any of that to the police, they'd have suspected you.' True, thought Yayoi, feeling scared. It seemed that everything came out in the wash, every knot had a way of unravelling in the end. When she'd told her friends what had happened two nights ago, she had never in her wildest dreams imagined that she was going to murder Kenji. But there was nothing to be done about that now, and Masako was absolutely right. In fact, you could count on Masako generally to get things right. 'She agreed to help out, but there's a catch. She and Yoshie want to be paid. Do you think you can come up with about five hundred thousand?'

  It had never occurred to her that she would be paying anybody, but she'd decided to do exactly as Masako instructed.

  'Will that be enough for both of them?'

  'Yes. Four hundred for the Skipper and one for Kuniko. She's just going to help us get rid of the bags. I think they'll settle for that. They seem to feel that since you killed him, you should pay to have the whole thing taken care of.'

  'I understand. I'll ask my parents for the money right away.' Yayoi's parents, who lived in Yamanashi Prefecture, were far from wealthy. Her father had been in business but was on the verge of retirement. She hated asking them for money, but since Kenji had taken all the savings, she didn't even have enough to live on. She would have had to ask them at some point anyway, so it might as well be sooner than later.

  'Good,' said Masako, her tone brisk and businesslike. 'But how did things go there?'

  'His office called earlier to say he hadn't shown up. They wanted me to wait till tomorrow morning to report him missing, but I told them I was too worried and was going to call the police this evening.'

  'That sounds good, like this isn't an everyday thing for you. Are you skipping work tonight?' .

  'I thought I should.'

  'That's probably best. Good, then I'll call again tomorrow,' said Masako, sounding as though she was about to hang up now that they'd finished their business.

  'Masako,' said Yayoi, stopping her.

  'What?'

  'What was it like?'

  'Oh, that? It was a huge mess, but in the end we got it down to little pieces. The three of us divided up the bags and we'll dump them tomorrow morning. It's Thursday, and that's garbage day most places. We used extra-strong bags, so I don't think we'll have any leaks.'

  'But where are you taking them?' Yayoi asked.

  'We can't go too far. We'll have to do it in the neighbourhood, though it does seem a little risky. We'll try to be as discreet as possible.'

  'Okay,' said Yayoi. 'And thanks.' Remembering the nosy neighbour she'd met that morning poking around in the garbage, she said a little prayer that it would all go as planned.

  Almost as soon as she'd hung up, Yayoi picked up the phone again and, steeling herself, dialled a number she had never dialled before. A man's voice answered almost immediately.

  '911,' he said. 'How can I help you?'

  Yayoi hesitated.'... My husband didn't come home last night.' She wasn't sure what sort of reaction she was expecting, but his response seemed very businesslike. He asked her name and address and put her on hold. A moment later another man came on.

  'Domestic Division,' the new man said. 'You say your husband didn't come home? How long has it been?'

  'Since last night. And his office says he hasn't shown up there today.'

  'Have you been having any trouble lately?' the man asked. 'No, nothing that I can think of.'

  'Then I'd like you to wait until tomorrow, and if he still hasn't shown up, you should come in and file a report. This is the Musashi Yamato station; you know where that is?'

  'But I don't think I can wait. I'm very worried.'

  'Yes, but even if you come in now, we can only file the report. No one's
going to go looking for him at this point.' The man's voice had grown gentler.

  'Well, I don't know what to do,' Yayoi said. 'This hasn't ever happened before.'

  'If it were a child or an old person, that would be a different story, but in this case we'd really like you to give it another day.'

  'I understand,' Yayoi said. She'd done her duty for today. She let out a long sigh as she hung up.

  -

  'Mama, are you going to work tonight?' said Takashi while they were eating dinner.

  'No, I'm staying here,' Yayoi told him.

  'Why?'

  'Your father hasn't come home yet and I'm worried.'

  'Really?! You're worried, too?' Yayoi was startled at how relieved he seemed to know that she shared his concern. She began to realise that children have quite a shrewd idea of what goes on between people even when they appear so oblivious, and the thought worried her. Maybe Takashi was awake last night when Kenji came home and really did hear something. If that were the case, she thought anxiously, she would have to find a way to keep him quiet. As she sat thinking, Yukihiro spoke up.

  'Mama! Milk's in the garden, but he won't come when I call him.'

  'Who cares?' she shrieked, suddenly furious. 'I can't stand that cat!' The tone was so unusual for her that Yukihiro dropped his chopsticks and looked up at her in shock. Takashi looked away, as if not wanting to see anything. Noting his reaction, she decided she had better talk to Masako about Takashi and the cat as soon as possible. She had already decided it was best to leave everything to Masako. It never crossed her mind, though, that this was the same attitude she'd adopted years earlier when she had first fallen in love with Kenji.

  4

  Masako had spread a second plastic tarp on the lid covering the bath tub, and on it she had piled the forty-three bags. The lid had warped under the weight - which was approximately that of a grown man.

  'Even without the blood, it's still pretty heavy,' she said, half to herself.