Maki Kashimada - Touring the Land of the Dead - Two Novellas

In the end, I went home with only a carton of milk.

“You took your time,” Meiko remarked. “Does it really take that long to buy some milk?”

“Uh, well…” I replied, flustered, probably just making myself look like I had done something wrong.

“You’re a strange one,” Moeko laughed.

She was probably right about that. And all the while, Yōko kept staring at me. I couldn’t help but worry that she might somehow manage to see through my discomfort, so I ran upstairs to hide in my room. I couldn’t tell any of them about what I had seen, about S kissing that sign. They would probably just end up getting jealous, I thought. They would no doubt just end up arguing among themselves over why he had done it.

My mind started wandering. Why had he kissed it? Did he feel some kind of reverence toward Hiratsuka Raichō? I could picture it so vividly. S, kissing my sisters against their will. My bookish sisters, who had so eagerly devoured the works of Uno Chiyo and Okamoto Kanoko back when they were kids. How would these sisters of mine feel if a pretentious guy, some outsider, came and pressed his lips up against their own? And what if he kissed me? I would slap him dead in the face. Don’t treat me like an idiot! Maybe it’s true, that kissing someone, even without checking to see how they feel about you, maybe that’s how things are done where the streets are ruled by the young. But this town isn’t like that. The young aren’t in charge here. So don’t you get it? When in Rome, you’re supposed to do as the Romans do. Yep. If it were me, that’s what I would say to him.

My sisters. My poor sisters. They haven’t realized what exactly it is that draws them to him. If you ask me, it’s simply because he’s a stranger. They think that they’re all so mature and sophisticated. They think that they’ve picked up every bit of worldly wisdom that a woman needs to know from their books. I’m not going to marry a local, some childhood friend , Moeko once said. I’m not going to be like everyone else in this town. They’re all the same. They’re born here, they fall in love with a member of the opposite sex, someone they’ve known since elementary school, they get married, and then, eventually, they die. Then their childhood friends all come to the funeral, like it’s some kind of class reunion. No, I couldn’t bring myself to fall in love with someone like that. It’s practically incest. That’s the kind of thing that Moeko would always say. Which was why, as soon as a stranger popped up, she and the others all underwent a sudden awakening, almost as if it were their first time ever seeing a member of the opposite sex. There’s no limit to my love for them, but as I watched this strange mood fall over them all, I felt as if I had suddenly understood just what miserable creatures women really are. But at the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that they’re just so beautiful, these sisters of mine.

So, if he tried to kiss me, I might not be able to stop myself just with slapping him. No, I would kiss him back, I would give my whole body to him over and over again, I would give him more than he could possibly bear, and then I would cast him aside, just like that. I mean, wouldn’t that be so fitting? And then I would say: Sex? I’d do that with any man. I never once thought you were special. Yes, if only my sisters would do that. But they’re different. The three of them have really fallen for him, from the deepest depths of their hearts. Just thinking about it makes me so frustrated. It was like these New Women, born and raised in this neighborhood of mine, were about to end up getting stained by some outsider. Like they would cease to be my sisters who had hauled the mikoshi through the streets rather than riding docilely on top.

“Hey, Mom, what was it like having sex with Dad, before you broke up with him?” Moeko asked between sips of her Denki Bran.

Mom was drinking a glass of Denki Bran as well. She turned red and let out a laugh.

That night, my sisters and I all went with Mom to this cinema-themed jazz café, a place called Eigakan. Us sisters are all pretty big on the atmosphere here, the walls all covered with posters for films like Hiroshima mon amour and Last Year at Marienbad . Mom has always been a big fan of Alain Resnais, and when we were young, we would all watch videos of his films together. And so the five of us were practically regulars, and had been ever since I was a kid. Sitting in this jazz café, drinking Denki Bran.

“Well, your father, you know, he wrote about it, the first time we did it, in his diary, and then, one day, I stumbled across it, and he’d written all this stuff about finding the delta zone, it was so funny!”

We were all drunk, and immediately burst into laughter. Mom always talks about sex when she’s drunk. And we all keep giving her one glass after another, all the while showering her with questions to get her to keep on talking.

“So, like, was it good, having sex with him?” Meiko asked.

“Well, you know, he wasn’t exactly well-endowed, but his technique wasn’t half bad.”

She was laughing along with the rest of us, but Yōko still hadn’t asked anything, so I thought that I would take a turn.

“Mom, how old would he have to be, a guy you’d want to have sex with? Younger than you?”

“Ah, a young guy would be wonderful. I wouldn’t even mind if he were young enough to be my son. Yeah. A guy around your age would be nice.”

At that moment, a deafening clang rang out.

“The same age as Nanako? You mean, someone like Tamura?” Moeko asked.

Right , I realized. If it were a classmate or someone like that, he would be around Tamura’s age.

“Who’s Tamura?” Meiko asked.

“One of Nanako’s college friends,” Yōko answered. “I’ve seen them walking around town together every now and then.”

“What kind of friend?” Mom asked.

“He’s just a friend,” I said. “We aren’t dating or anything.”

“You know, girls, I’m fine with you all having boyfriends, but you shouldn’t hang out with guys who want to take you to bed straight away, you know.”

“I know,” I responded flatly.

“But Mom, that kind of thinking is really old-fashioned, you know?” Meiko said. “If two people really love each other, they should be able to have sex whenever they feel like it. That’s what I think.”

“That’s how all young people think. Believe me, I know. But you mustn’t give yourselves away like that.”

Moeko turned toward Meiko. “Oh? Do you have someone in mind?” She was clearly thinking about S, but Meiko said nothing in reply.

I was starting to feel embarrassed that someone might overhear us, and glanced furtively around the room. The barkeeper was standing in silence behind the counter, cooking up a Spanish omelet.

“What do you think, Yōko?” Moeko asked.

“I don’t know,” was all she said.

“By the way, they were showing Hiroshima mon amour at the Mad Hat,” I said, trying to change the subject.

“Why?” Mom demanded. “I thought all they had was a TV? But I guess they do play videos of the Beatles every now and then…”

“One of the regulars really wanted to see it, so they had a screening party.”

“So did they all watch it?” Meiko asked, sipping at her Denki Bran.

“Well, apart from that one guy, no one else was really bothering to pay attention. But you know that bathroom scene? Just before it started, one of the other regulars shouted out: ‘They’re getting it on!’”

We all broke out into laughter.

“I’ll bet you whoever said that doesn’t even know what it’s about,” Meiko chuckled.