Life Ceremony, page 5
When Yoshiko informed the daughters of Kikue’s illness, the eldest said, “Shall I come and stay with you for a while? I’m worried about Kikue Mom of course, but I’m also worried about you.” Yoshiko had replied, “It’s okay. Your children are still small, so don’t go out of your way. It might be cancer, but the operation will cure her. It’s really just like having your appendix out, you know.”
The second daughter, always a crybaby, had been ready to jump on the next plane home, so Yoshiko told her firmly that the plane ticket would cost more than the hospital charges. The youngest came on the bullet train at the weekend to see them but immediately rushed back home again.
“In the end it’s just the two of is, isn’t it?” Kikue had murmured faintheartedly in the hospital ward after their youngest daughter left, saying she had to catch the last train.
“But it always was, wasn’t it? That’s what family is. Children always leave the nest,” Yoshiko said, trying to make her feel less discouraged, but Kikue had plunged into her second notebook, probably depressed by that remark.
Kikue was wildly promiscuous and had always had lovers, but when she informed her current lover (a man fifteen years her junior) that she had cancer, he’d apparently made himself scarce. This had likely depressed her even further.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Kikue said as she came back in, drying her hair with a towel. “Ah, that feels better! I swear I’m going crazy from boredom. Going to the hospital shop is the only entertainment I have.”
“How about chatting up some charming man in the hospital? That’s what you’re good at, right?”
Kikue pulled a face. “Men at death’s door are not my type.” Then, after a moment, she added, “But there is a guy in the surgery department next to us who isn’t bad-looking,” and blushed.
“Now that’s more like it. If he’s in surgery, he should be okay, shouldn’t he? How about sneaking into his ward at night?”
“I’ve only spoken to him a little in the lobby, and I don’t know which ward he’s on. Look, won’t you go get me some lipstick from the shop downstairs?”
Kikue looked more cheerful as Yoshiko started drying her hair. She had always been proud of her thick black hair, but now she had a lot more gray mixed in, and it was beginning to thin on top.
“Okay. Lipstick, right?”
“Yes, please. And you know what? They’ve set the date for surgery. It’ll be next week.”
“Oh, I see . . .”
“It’s on a weekday, so please don’t tell the children. Especially Mizuho. She has such a strong sense of responsibility and will drop everything and come if you tell her. She frets too much, and it gets tedious.”
“Okay, I won’t,” Yoshiko said. All of a sudden she wondered just what Kikue meant to her. If she were to lose Kikue now, what would become of her? Her parents were already dead, and the children were all following their own life paths. She was the one most affected by Kikue’s hospitalization.
“Oh, and could I ask you to buy me another notebook too? I’m about to finish this one.”
Kikue looked happy. Despite having seemed so depressed earlier, now she was absorbed in writing her stupid poetry.
“Oh, do stop wasting paper!” Yoshiko exclaimed loudly to dispel her feeling of melancholy.
“Want to read the latest one?” Kikue asked mischievously.
“Leave it out! Why would I want to read your cheap porno stories?”
“How do you know it won’t be a poem dedicated to you?”
“Then I definitely don’t want to read it.”
“You’re so spiteful. Oh, look!” Kikue said, pointing outside.
Yoshiko followed her gaze and saw that it was snowing.
“I’ll write about this in my poem. The hand of my family dries my wet hair, a snowy scene on the opposite bank . . .”
“Awful,” Yoshiko said as she turned off the hair dryer and gazed at the falling snow. “I wonder what our lives would have been like if we hadn’t lived together.”
“Hmm. We would have been the same, I guess. Talking about trivial things, saying nasty things to each other, yet still getting by in our own way.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Had anything developed between them as a result of their living together? Yoshiko didn’t know, but if Kikue died, she had decided she would be the chief mourner at her funeral. It was absolutely clear to her that she was the one who would play that role, not any of Kikue’s former lovers.
“If the snow settles, you’ll have your work cut out for you shoveling a path outside the apartment.”
“You’re right. So hurry up and come home.”
Kikue laughed. Maybe she’d heard how Yoshiko’s gruff voice had broken slightly as she said this.
“I’ll be home before you know it. It’s our house after all. I can’t let you get used to doing everything the way you like it while I’m away.”
The snow grew heavier, painting the world white outside the window. “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Kikue said, leaning forward like a child. In that moment, the indigo notebook slipped from her wrinkled hands and, as though slowly flapping its wings, fluttered under the bed.
The Time of the Large Star
A little girl once moved with her papa to a small town in a country that was far, far away. Her papa told her that because of his job, they would live there from now on.
“This country is a little strange,” he told her. “Nobody sleeps here.”
“So what do they do at night, then?”
“It gets dark, but night doesn’t exist, so you can go outside for walks anytime you like.”
The girl was happy to hear this. Being able to go for walks even when it was dark sounded wonderfully grown-up to her.
“But won’t I feel sleepy?”
“Here, magic sand comes flying in from the other side of the cliff. Thanks to its magic power, nobody needs to sleep.”
People led a strange lifestyle in that town. When the sun rose in the sky, turning it blue, everyone would pull a face. “The Large Star has come out,” they would say, and then they’d all go home. When the sun went down, and the Time of the Little Stars began, the town grew lively. The townspeople said they didn’t like the Large Star. It came too close, its rays were too strong, and it was too hot and bright. In the Time of the Little Stars, the candy store and the toy store were full of children. Just as her papa had said, no matter how much time passed, the little girl never felt sleepy. She started going for walks during the Time of the Large Star, when there weren’t many other people around. The candy store and the toy store were empty, but she liked this time when they were enveloped in light.
One day in the park, she met a little boy. He was sitting on a bench reading a book. “Isn’t the Large Star too bright for you?” she asked.
“Not at all. I like this time the best. The town is pure white and shining.”
The girl looked around and realized that indeed, the park’s slide, the buildings, the road . . . everything was reflecting the Large Star’s light and was all white and sparkling.
“I don’t find it dazzling either,” she said primly. “In the town where I used to live, we always lived in this light.”
“Oh, you’re from another country? Wow! Did you happen to sleep there, by any chance?”
“Yes, we did.”
“That’s so cool. What does it feel like to sleep?”
“I’ll teach you if you like. It’s easy. If you close your eyes, you’ll fall asleep right away. And you can have all kinds of dreams.”
The little girl and little boy sat next to each other on the bench and closed their eyes. But however long she waited, the girl didn’t fall into the world of sleep the way she used to, and the boy didn’t sleep either.
“It’s just that you’re bad at it,” the girl said. “I know—let’s leave the town and go far away. Then you’ll be able to sleep.”
The boy looked troubled. “Don’t you know? Once you’ve lived in this town, you’ll never be able to sleep again.”
The girl was shocked.
“Once you’re under the spell, you’ll never be free of it. Grown-ups say it’s convenient, but I would really like to experience what it’s like to sleep.”
The little girl burst into tears, and the boy desperately tried to soothe her. “Once we’ve grown up,” she said, “let’s try fainting.”
“What’s fainting?”
“It’s just like sleeping. We both have to give ourselves a big surprise. Then we will faint together.”
“I see,” the boy said. “Let’s try fainting together sometime, then.”
The boy gave her one of the white flowers that grew in the park. It would be wonderful if she could faint with the boy, she thought, but she couldn’t stop her tears. The Large Star illuminated the two of them in its pure white light.
Poochie
“Could you take over feeding duty today?” Yuki asked me.
Apparently the teacher had asked her to help with the class chores that afternoon.
“Sure,” I said happily.
“Thanks,” she said, looking relieved. “If we finish quickly, I’ll come along too.”
Yuki was super reliable and hadn’t missed a single feeding duty until now. I’d gotten her to take my turn lots of times when I had a piano lesson or needed to help Mom. I was happy that for once, she’d asked me to fill in for her.
After classes ended, I ran to the mountain behind our school. There was a small hut on the mountain where Yuki and I kept our secret pet. In my bag I had three bread rolls left over from lunch.
Poochie was waiting patiently for me.
“Sorry, Poochie. Are you hungry?”
Poochie lumbered around to face me and stared fixedly through his broken glasses at the bread rolls I was holding.
I didn’t know where Poochie had come from. One day Yuki had told me, “I’ve got a secret pet that I’m keeping up on the mountain. Do you want to come and see him, Mizuho?”
My heart pounded. Yuki was a quiet girl who never talked much about herself. She was a little different from my other classmates, seeming to live in a world of her own, and she always seemed so detached when observing us classmates and our teacher. I had a secret crush on her.
And now she’d confided a secret just to me. I was ecstatic.
So when she led a man about the same age as my dad out of the shed saying, “This is Poochie,” I’d been utterly floored.
“This . . . is your pet, Yuki?”
“Yep. Cute, isn’t he?”
Seeing the middle-aged man staring at the ground as Yuki stroked his head, what I felt was fear.
“Shouldn’t you put a collar on him?”
My immediate response was that perhaps we should restrain this dangerous pet to make sure he couldn’t do us any harm.
“I guess so,” Yuki said, agreeing. “After all, he is a pet. Good thinking, Mizuho. It never even occurred to me.”
Next time I went to see Poochie, he was wearing a red collar. It didn’t make any sense to have a collar without a chain attached, but Yuki looked so pleased that I didn’t say anything.
“I decided on a red collar. Like that red dress you like so much, Mizuho.”
“My dress . . .”
“Yep. After all, he’s your pet as well as mine.”
Unusually for her she smiled, which completely obliterated any thought of danger I’d had before. Yuki had given my favorite color to her precious pet! I was so thrilled that I blushed.
“How sweet of you, Yuki, thanks. It’s a cute collar, isn’t it? It suits him.”
I cautiously went up to Poochie and stroked his head. Poochie gave off the stench of a wild animal, and the pale skin on the top of his head felt sticky.
Poochie had just finished eating the bread rolls I’d given him when there was a knock on the door of the shed.
“Mizuho, are you there?”
Yuki came in, still wearing her school backpack. She’d obviously come here straight from finishing the class chores. “Poochie, come! I’ve brought you some milk, too,” she said, taking a bottle of milk out of her backpack.
Poochie stared in delight, though slightly hesitantly, at the milk she held out to him.
“What’s up, Poochie? It’s for you. You can drink it!”
She poured some into his dish, and he started happily lapping it up.
“You’re eating a lot today, aren’t you, Poochie?” she said, stroking his head.
“He’s already eaten three bread rolls, you know.”
“He has? Poochie, you must have been hungry!”
I was in two minds about stroking Poochie’s head. He was cute in a way, but touching him felt a bit creepy. But Yuki seemed totally okay with stroking his head and his stubble.
Yuki and I met up an hour before school every day and headed to the mountain together.
Poochie wasn’t locked up at all, but he never ran away. He was always waiting obediently for us on all fours, and he never used his hands except to eat. Somehow I found that reassuring.
Yuki and I always held hands as we opened the door to the shed. On all fours, Poochie would look up at us with watery eyes.
He hardly ever made a sound. Just occasionally he would cry, “Finishitbytwo!” This was probably an order he used to issue before he became our pet.
I’d once asked Yuki where she’d found him. “Otemachi,” she said, referring to the business district near Tokyo Station. “I had a test for cram school and had gone there on my own. And I saw Poochie wandering around, lost. So I took him home with me and fed him, and he got very attached to me. Then I thought of you, Mizuho. I thought it’d be cute to look after him together.”
There was probably someone in Otemachi who was still looking for him. But even if his owner ever came to try to find him, Yuki and I were resolved to keeping him secret. Anyway, Poochie was really attached to us. He must like his life on the mountain behind our school better than his life in Otemachi.
One day we went to feed Poochie and found the door to the shed wide-open.
“Poochie?” Yuki called, running into the shed.
There were footprints from large shoes on the floor. Poochie was nowhere to be seen.
“Poochie? Poochie!”
“These footprints must be from Otemachi,” I said, peering at them cautiously.
“Oh, no!” Yuki said, going pale. “Maybe he’s gone back there?”
Yuki looked dejected, so I held out my arms to hug her, but just then there was a sound outside.
“Poochie!” Yuki cried, evading my clasp and running outside.
Crouching there was Poochie, his head and suit covered in leaves.
“Poochie, you’re back! You’re back!”
Yuki hugged him, stroking his head and back. He must have escaped his pursuer from Otemachi.
“Finishitbytwo!” Poochie cried quietly, closing his eyes in Yuki’s arms.
Life Ceremony
I was having lunch in the meeting room with five women colleagues from the same department when one of them suddenly stopped eating and looked up, dangling her chopsticks in midair.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I heard that Mr. Nakao from General Affairs passed away.”
We all looked at her.
“What? Really?”
“Seems it was a stroke.”
I pictured Mr. Nakao’s good-natured smile. He was an elegant man with silver-gray hair and often shared sweets he received from clients with us. He’d retired just a few years ago.
“So young!”
“You can say that again. When did it happen?”
“The day before yesterday, apparently. This morning the company was informed that the ceremony will be held tonight. They said the deceased would have wanted as many of us as possible to come along.”
“Really? I’d better hold back on lunch today, then. Maybe I’ll skip dessert.”
We all put our custard desserts back, unopened, into the bag from the convenience store.
“I bet Mr. Nakao tastes good,” said a woman a year older than me as she ate her pork and potato stew.
“Maybe a bit tough, don’t you think? He was thin and muscular, after all.”
“I’ve eaten someone with a similar physique as Mr. Nakao before, and he was actually quite tasty. A bit stringy, maybe, but smooth on the tongue.”
“Really? They say you get better soup stock from men, don’t they?”
“You’ll be going, won’t you, Ms. Iketani?” another woman asked me as she put away the bag of desserts. “To the life ceremony, that is.”
“Ah, um . . . I’m not sure,” I said vaguely, tilting my head doubtfully as I tucked into the noriben lunch box I’d bought at a nearby convenience store.
“Seriously? But why? Oh, come to think of it, you’re one of those people who doesn’t really eat human flesh, aren’t you?”
“No, no—it’s not that! I just have a bit of an upset stomach, and I’m on my period.”
“Oh, on your period. No wonder.” She nodded, apparently satisfied. “But you can get pregnant even on your period, you know. You really should go. It’s a life ceremony! You might get inseminated, mightn’t you?”
Laughing it off, I washed down the fried fish and excess sauce with some tea from a plastic bottle.
