Minae Mizumura - A True Novel

THIS EXPLAINS WHY it was well into the fall before I learned about Yoko and Taro’s first “misconduct.”

A postcard came from Fuyue saying that the Utagawa family had decided to sell the property in Chitose Funabashi, land and all, and would I please come over to help her decide which furnishings to discard and which to send to Sapporo? And so one fine autumn day I met her at the station.

I knew that the Utagawas had been living in a rented house in Sapporo, but now, it seemed, they were planning to build a place of their own. Since professors at Hokkaido University were considered prominent figures locally, it wouldn’t do to get a cheap sort of place like the Chitose Funabashi house; but they didn’t have enough savings to build something suitable, so Natsue had immediately suggested putting their Tokyo property up for sale, since it had no sentimental value for her anyway. Next year Yuko would be graduating from high school in New York; in order to send her to an American conservatory, even with Grampy’s promise to help out, they would still have to scrape together their share of the dollar-based tuition. That also contributed to the decision to sell.

It was daytime when we arrived, too early for Taro to be there next door. I went out behind the house and called to O-Tsune from the veranda to let her know we’d come to clear the place out. All her old insolence was back in the thin, sneering smile on her face when she emerged. Her behavior, which gave me a jolt, had something to do with the “misconduct” I heard about on returning to the main house.

“I wonder if the Azumas will leave without giving any trouble,” I said when Fuyue and I sat down side by side on the sofa in the chilly main room, still wearing our coats. One of the two rental houses was already empty.

“Oh, they will, all right,” said Fuyue. “They signed a pledge to leave whenever asked to do so. They’re not actually entitled to a single yen, but after Taro’s misconduct, now they’ve even come into some money.”

“Misconduct?” I looked at her in surprise and confusion. “Money?”

“That’s right. Takero has already given it to them.”

“To the Azumas?”

“Yes, didn’t Natsue say anything about it to you?”

“No, ma’am, she didn’t.” I shook my head with a vague sense that the inevitable had finally happened. I looked around the room. I felt that the ghosts of Yoko and Taro when they were little were still there, loath to leave this place where every nick in the posts and walls was familiar. I heard Yoko’s excited chatter in the distance, followed by the sound of footsteps running down the corridor.

The alleged misconduct had taken place that summer in Karuizawa. With her sister and cousins all off in New York, and Masayuki studying at a cram school in Tokyo for the summer, young Yoko had the place to herself. She passed the time lounging about reading novels, working in the garden, going for long walks, and, after starting singing lessons in Sapporo, accompanying herself on the piano. Then one day she left for a walk and didn’t come back, even after dark. Natsue’s natural instincts must have come to the fore, for it suddenly dawned on her where her daughter was. She had Fuyue drive her over to Oiwake, and the moment they got out of the car, Yoko came flying barefoot onto the porch. Natsue charged straight at her, sending her staggering, with Taro standing stock-still just inside the house.

“Shame on you—acting like a bitch in heat!” Those were ugly words, coming from this well-mannered woman. Hysterical, she started to beat the girl until Taro rushed out and grabbed her by the arm.

Yoko was hysterical too. “It’s not his fault,” she cried out in tears. “I invited him here in a letter.”

When I heard about the letter, I realized that the one I’d brought to Chitose Funabashi that day must have specified when the two should meet up in Oiwake, and had contained Taro’s train fare. Yoko had apparently kept quiet to her mother about the role I played—less to protect me, I’m sure, than to keep me in reserve for possible use in the future.

Later, after removing her husband’s dictionaries, the good dishes, and the relatively new bedding, Natsue had the telephone, water, gas, and electricity cut off at the Oiwake cottage and shut it up. With old Mrs. Utagawa dead, there was no point in keeping it going anymore; until Harue and her family returned to Japan, even if Takero joined them, the house in Karuizawa was large enough for everyone.

“That child never did know how to behave,” Yoko’s mother would grumble about her.

Judging from their appearance when they were found, Yoko and Taro had not been intimate, but it was clear that if they were left on their own, it was only a matter of time.

This “misconduct” also provided the Utagawas with a ready excuse to sever all ties with the Azuma family. They had been on the point of disposing of their property in Chitose Funabashi anyway. In line with the original agreement, there was no need to offer any compensation for forced removal, but to honor his mother’s dying wish, Takero handed over a sizable sum of money for Taro’s further education, at the same time instructing the family to vacate the house and make sure that Taro had no further contact with Yoko.

Fuyue laughed and said, “Takero is so conscientious, they ended up throwing good money after bad.”

When her father told her that she mustn’t have anything more to do with Taro, Yoko apparently had a fit. “Papa, you’re the one who said people aren’t born higher or lower than each other!” To which he replied that that was not the problem; the problem was that any young man who would arrange to meet a fifteen-year-old girl behind her parents’ back could not be trusted. This was a perfectly reasonable answer, but how could she possibly see someone like Taro except behind her parents’ back? Anyway, once they had discovered how big a role he played in their daughter’s life, Natsue and Takero must have been relieved to be able to cut their ties with the Azuma family, even if it did mean “throwing good money after bad,” since there was no telling how Yoko would have acted later when Taro went on to high school and university. Takero was a fair-minded person, with a strong sense of responsibility too, so I’m sure he wondered whether the steps he was taking were unfair to Taro, but as a father he naturally had to give his own daughter’s interests priority.

Natsue blamed Takero’s mother, saying it was her fault for letting Taro practically live in their house the way he had. The point could also be made that Natsue herself was no less at fault for turning Yoko over to old Mrs. Utagawa and practically living in Seijo. But as someone who knew both women, I can say that without a doubt, the arrangement contributed greatly to each one’s happiness during all those years. In addition, the way Natsue gravitated to Seijo wasn’t only due to the general decline in the family fortunes but also to Takero’s being so wrapped up in his work and so seldom at home. All in all, it was hard to know where to lay the blame.

“The ties have been cut,” Fuyue said to me, “but if the Azumas do make any claims, I hate to ask, but could you step in and handle it, Fumiko?” She also made another request: when it was time to turn the family’s unwanted belongings over to the secondhand dealer, she, Fuyue, would be there, but she hoped I would be around when the Azumas left their place.

They moved out on a Sunday toward the end of the year. When I arrived, the Azumas had just begun loading their things into a vehicle borrowed from the subcontractor. It was not even a regular truck but a battered Daihatsu Midget—a three-wheeled minivan, so popular that at one point it was everywhere on the city streets and even I knew its name.