Minae Mizumura - A True Novel

For once there were boys playing down there too. The three of them were older, so they ignored their little sisters and were yelling themselves hoarse, taking turns as pitcher, batter, and catcher. They had staked out the lion’s share of the area. I was a bit surprised to find myself annoyed that the Karuizawa garden we all cherished was being treated like an ordinary schoolyard.

“Did you want something?” Yoko turned and looked at me standing next to her, as if suddenly remembering I was there.

I shook my head. “Not really. The attic door was open so I just came up for a look around.”

No need for me to go out of my way to bring the two of them together, I thought. She obviously couldn’t have forgotten Taro, but her life without him was peaceful. Why muddy the waters? If Taro intended to invade her life, I decided, he would just have to do it on his own.

THAT RESOLUTION WAS shaken by my visit to Oiwake later that day. Hearing me come in, Taro emerged from the study. One look at his face and I felt myself go pale. My bringing up the subject the night before must have unleashed emotions he had been holding in check. He looked as if he had been through hell.

“Oh, Taro!” I said, in shock.

Overnight his face had become hollower, with dark circles under the eyes. Half in tears, I had to ask: “What are you going to do? Go back to America without seeing her?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing else I can do …”

“What will you do with the cottage?”

“Leave it. I might come back again someday.”

“Someday? What in the world is wrong with you?”

“Yeah, well …”

He looked away, breathing heavily, his chest moving. Even after doing so well in America, he must have wavered for ages before seeing Takero’s obituary and deciding to come back to Japan. That much I had guessed, but never did I imagine that when he had finally made the journey back he would be so scared of meeting Yoko again. His dread that their past together was truly over and done with outweighed his need to see her.

Abruptly I said, “I’ll call her for you.”

He showed a sudden eagerness, but only for a moment. Holding his breath, he stared at me. He kept on staring agog as I walked over to the telephone and punched the number.

“The Shigemitsu residence.”

“Yoko? Is that you? It’s Fumiko.”

“Oh, hello, Fumiko. What is it? Did you forget something?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. Just then my eyes met Taro’s. After holding my gaze a moment he turned and disappeared down the dimly lit corridor. I heard the study door close. I looked back at the porch, training my eyes on the gathering dusk beyond the screen door as I spoke. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? What is it?” she asked, her voice alert. As I hesitated, she repeated, “What kind of a surprise?”

“Taro is at the Oiwake cottage right now.”

For a moment she was speechless.

“Our Oiwake cottage?” She seemed confused.

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

Strange question. “Yes,” I said, then added, “I’m here with him for the moment.”

Her reply was unexpectedly composed. “I’ll be right there. I’ll leave now. I’ll just tell Masayuki and be right over.”

“What about dinner?”

“He’ll cover for me. Anyway, I’m on my way.”

I knocked on the study door and opened it. The back of Taro’s white shirt floated up in the gloom. He was sitting at the desk, looking outside. The atmosphere in the room was perfectly still.

“Yoko is coming over.”

He didn’t move

“I’m off, then,” I said to his white back.

Just as I turned to leave, the swivel chair spun around and he called out, “Fumiko. Stay here till she comes. Stay … or I can’t cope.” He looked frantic.

As I stood there, he said again, “Please stay …”

His face was ashen, there’s no other word for it. It must have taken nerve for him to get where he was at work, yet here he hadn’t the courage to see Yoko alone. He had never been one to lean on other people for anything, so the request was all the more pathetic. I remained motionless in the doorway, dismayed by the sight of him. Still, whether it was pity or compassion, that all-too-familiar feeling came over me again—the same feeling I’d had when I used to imagine what was going through the mind of the small boy he’d been.

“Has she changed?” he asked in a low voice, still white-faced.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think she had changed so much that she no longer cared for him, and yet changed she certainly had. But I did not want to be the one to tell him so.

“Has marriage changed her?” The look in his upturned eyes was insistent.

“Marriage can’t help changing a person.”

“It didn’t change you.”

Unconnected to the present moment, the words echoed loudly inside me. I was silent, lost in my own emotions, and he seemed to misunderstand. With a painful groan he said, “So she has changed.” His face twisted. “Yoko’s not the same.”

“She’ll be here any minute, so judge for yourself,” I said flatly, then went back down the corridor, turned on the porch light, and sat down again at the table. Taro didn’t come out of the study. I couldn’t hear him stir. No doubt he had swiveled back to stare out the window at the gathering darkness.

About half an hour later I saw car lights approaching down the lane. As I got up and went to the screen door, a car door slammed shut. The movement of headlight beams showed what looked like a taxi backing up, turning, and driving off. Yoko came up the steps, kicked off her shoes impatiently, and opened the screen door.

“You came by taxi?” I asked.

“Yes, Masayuki said it wasn’t safe to drive over alone at night when I’m this worked up.” Flushed with agitation, she answered absently, scanning the room. If Taro’s inability to face Yoko alone was absurd, Masayuki’s cautious insistence that his wife take a taxi to see a former lover was no less so. Just then Taro appeared silently from the hallway.

“Taro!” Yoko’s voice rang out sharply. The night air swayed, and her hair, which lately she’d worn nicely smoothed down, seemed to fly out in all directions. “You got married, didn’t you!”

She was glaring at him with the fury of a she-demon. Her breathing was rough and she stood with her hands pressed against her heart, as if she might keel over. Taro looked at her in astonishment. Apparently, her words made no sense to him.

“You did get married, I know it!”

He came to his senses and answered quietly: “No.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Not ever?”

“Never.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying.”

She tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes suspiciously before asking in a slightly calmer voice, “But you had a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“You’re telling me you never had a girl?”

“I never did.”

“Not even one?” Her eyes slowly widened.

“Not even one.”

“You liar! I know that’s a lie!” She was shouting again, but Taro seemed in raptures. “You mean it?”

“I mean it.”

He answered her calmly, an unmistakable smile on his lips. His smile seemed not to register on Yoko, who kept staring at him in deadly earnest.

“So you were miserable the whole time?”

“The whole time.”

“Oh, yes? How miserable were you? Enough to die?”

“Yes. I was heartbroken.” He said this glowing with delight.

“Ah, but you didn’t die, did you! You came whimpering back, alive as ever!”

“To see you again …” His face clouded for a moment. “I wanted to see you, Yoko, and find out if there really was nothing worth living for.”