第 4 页

“So you’re happy?”

“Yes, I’m very happy.”

“Good. I’m happy for you both.”

“There, it’s all ready for you.” I handed him the lacquer lunch-box.

“Ah yes, the left-avers” he said, receiving it with a dramatic bow. He lifted the lid a little. “It looks delightful though.

When I eventually went back into the living room, Ogata-San was putting on his shoes in the entryway.

“Tell me, Etsuko,” he said, not looking up from his laces. “Have you met this Shigeo Matsuda?”

“Once or twice. He used to visit us after we were married.”

‘But he and Jiro aren’t such dose friends these days?”

“Hardly. We exchange greeting cards, but that’s all.”

“I’m going to suggest to Jim he writes to his friend. Shigeo should apologize. Or else I’ll have to insist Jiro disassociates himself from that young man.”

“I see.”

“I thought of suggesting it to him earlier, when we were talking at breakfast. But then that kind of talk is best left till the evening.”

“You’re probably right.”

Ogata-San thanked me once bore for the lunch-box before leaving.

As it turned out, he did not bring the matter up that night. They both seemed tired when they came in and spent most of the evening reading newspapers, speaking little. And only once did Ogata-San mention Dr Endo. That was at supper, and he said simply: “Endo seemed well. He misses his work though. After all, the man lived for it.”

In bed that night, before we fell asleep, I said to Jiro: “I hope Father’s quite content with the way we’re receiving him.”

“What else can he expect?” my husband said. “Why don’t you take him out somewhere if you’re so worried.”

“Will you be working on Saturday afternoon?”

“How can’t afford not to? I’m behind schedule as it is. He happened to choose the most difficult of times to visit me It’s just too bad.”

“But we could still go out on Sunday, couldn’t we?”

I have a feeling I did not receive a reply then, though I lay gazing up into the darkness waiting. Jim was often tired after a days work and not in the mood for conversation.

In any case, it seems I was worrying unduly about Ogata-San, for his visit that summer turned out to be one of his lengthiest. I remember he was still with us that night Sachiko knocked on out apartment door.

She was wearing a dress I had never seen before, and there was a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her face had been carefully made up, but a thin strand of hair had come loose and was hanging over her cheek,

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Etsuko,” she said, smiling. ‘I was wondering if by any chance Mariko was here.”

“Mariko? Why, no.”

“Well, never mind. You haven’t seen her at all?"

“I’m afraid not. You’ve lost her?"

“There’s no need to took like that,” she said, with a laugh. “It’s just that she wasn’t in the cottage when I got back, that’s all. I’m sure I’ll find her very soon.”

We were talking at the entryway, and I became aware of Jim and Ogata-San looking towards us. I introduced Sachiko, and they all bowed to each other.

“This is worrying.” Ogata-San said. “Perhaps we’d better phone the police straight away.”

“There’s no need for that,” said Sachiko. “I’m sure I’ll find her.”

But perhaps it’s best to be safe and phone anyway."

“No really—a slight hint of irritation had entered Sachiko’s voic—“there’s no need. I’m sure l’ll find her”

“I’ll help you look for her,” I said, starting to put on my jacket.

My husband looked at me disapprovingly. He seemed about to speak, but then stopped himself. In the end, he said: “It’s almost dark now.”

“Really, Etsuko, there’s no need to make such a fuss,” Sachiko was saying. But if you don’t mind coming out for a minute, I’ll be most grateful.”

“Take care, Etsuko,” Ogata-San said. “And phone the police if you don’t find the child soon”

We descended the flight of stairs. Outside it was still warm, and across the wasteground the sun had sunk very low, highlighting the muddy furrows.

‘Have you looked around the housing precinct?” I asked.

“No, not yet”

“Let’s look then.” I began to walk rapidly. “Does Mariko have friends she may be with?”

‘I don’t think so. Really, Etsuko”—Sachiko laughed and put a hand on my arm—‘there’s no need to be so alarmed. Nothing will have happened to her. In fad, Etsuko, I really came round because I wanted to tell you Some news. You see, it’s all been settled at last. We’re leaving for America within the next few days.”

“America?” Perhaps because of Sachiko’s hand on my arn, perhaps out of sheer surprise, I stopped walking.

“Yes, America. You’ve no doubt heard of such a place.” She seemed pleased at my astonishment.

I began to walk again. Our precinct was an expanse of paved concrete, interrupted occasionally by thin young trees planted when the buildings had gone up. Above us, lights had come on in most of the windows.

“Aren’t you going to ask me anything more?” Sachiko said, catching up with me. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m going? And who I’m going with?”

“I’m very glad if this is what you wanted,” I said. ‘But perhaps we should find your daughter lust.”

“Etsuko, you must understand there’s nothing I’m ashamed of. There’s nothing I want to hide from anyone. Please ask me anything you want, I’m not ashamed.”

“I thought perhaps we should find your daughter first.

We can talk later.”

“Very well, Etsuko,” she said, with a laugh. “Let’s find Mariko first.”

We searched the playing areas and walked around each of the apartment blocks. Soon we found ourselves back where we had started. Then I spotted two women talking by the main entrance to one of the apartment blocks.

“Perhaps those ladies over there could help us,” I said. Sachiko did not move. She looked over towards the two women, then said: “I doubt it.”

“But they may have seen her. They may have seen your daughter.”

Sachiko continued to look at the women. Then she gave a short laugh and shrugged. “Very well,” she said. “Let’s give them something to gossip about. It’s no concern of mine.”

We walked over to them and Sachiko politely and calmly made her enquiries. The women exchanged concerned looks, but neither had seen the little girl. Sachiko assured them there was no cause for alarm, and we our leave.

“I’m sure that made their day,” she said to me. ‘Now they’ll have something to talk about.”

“I’m sure they had no malicious thoughts whatsoever. They both seemed genuinely concerned.”

“You’re so kind, Etsuko, but there’s really no need to convince me of such things. You see, it’s never been any concern to me what people like that thought, and care even less now.”

We stopped walking. I threw a glance around me, and up at the apartment windows. “Where else could she be?" I said.

“You see, Etsuko, there’s nothing I’m ashamed of. There’s nothing I want to hide from you. Or from those women, for that matter.”

“Do you think we should search by the river?”

“The river? Oh, I’ve looked along there.”

‘What about the other side? Perhaps she’s over on the other side.”

“I doubt it, Etsuko. In fact, if I know my daughter she’ll be back at the cottage at this very moment. Probably rather pleased with herself to have caused this fuss.”

“Well, let’s go and see.”

n:: When we came back to the edge of the wasteground, the sun was disappearing behind the river, silhouetting the willow trees along the bank.

“There’s no need for you to come with me,” Sachiko said. “I’ll find her in good time.”

“It’s all right. I’ll come with you.”

“Very well then. Come with me.”

We began walking towards the cottage. I was wearing sandals and found it hard going on the uneven earth.

“How long were you out?” I asked. Sachiko was a pace or two ahead of me; she did not reply at first, and I thought possibly she had not heard me. “How long were you out?” I repeated.

“Oh, not long.”

“How long? Half an hour? Longer?”

“About three or four hours, I suppose."

“I see.”

We continued our way across the muddy ground, doing our best to avoid any puddles. As we approached the cottage, I said: “Perhaps we should look over on the other side, just in case.”

“The woods? My daughter wouldn’t be over there. Let’s go and look in the cottage. There’s no need to look so worried, Etsuko.” She laughed again, but I thought her voice wobbled a little as she did so.

The cottage, having no electricity, was in darkness. I waited in the entryway while Sachiko stepped up to the tatami. She called her daughter’s name and slid back the partitions to the two smaller rooms that adjoined the main one. I stood listening to her moving around in the darkness, then she came back to the entryway.

“Perhaps you’re right,’ she said. “Wed better look on the other bank.”

Along the river the air was full of insects. We walked in silence, towards the small wooden bridge further downstream. Beyond it, on the opposite bank, were the woods Sachiko had mentioned earlier.

We were crossing the bridge, when Sachiko turned tome and said rapidly: “We went to a bar in the end. We were going to go to the cinema, to a film with Gary Cooper, but there was a tong queue. The town was very crowded and a lot of people were drunk. We went to a bar in the end and they gave usa little room to ourselves."

“I see.”

“I suppose you don’t go to bars, do you, Etsuko?”

“No, I don’t."

That was the first time I had crossed to the far side of the river. The ground felt soft, almost marshy under my feet. Perhaps it is just my fancy that I felt a cold touch of unease there on that bank, a feeling not unlike premonition, which caused me to walk with renewed urgency towards the darkness of the trees before us.

Sachiko stopped me, grasping my arm. Following her gaze, I could see a short way along the bank something like a bundle lying on the grass, close to the river’s edge. It was just discernible in the gloom, a few shades darker than the ground around it. My first impulse was to run towards it, but then I realized Sachiko was standing quite still, gazing towards the object.

“What is it?” I said, rather stupidly.

“It’s Mariko,” she said, quietly. And when she turned to me there was a strange look in her eyes.

Chapter Three

It is possible that my memory of these events will have grown hazy with time, that things did not happen in quite the way they come back to me today. But I remember with some distinctness that eerie spell which seemed to bind the two of us as we stood there in the coming darkness looking towards that shape furtther down the bank. Then the spell broke and we both began to run. As we came nearer, I saw Mariko lying curled on her side, knees hunched, her back towards us. Sachiko reached the spot a little ahead of me, I being slowed by my pregnancy, and she was standing over the child when I joined her. Mariko’s eyes were open and at first I thought she was dead. But then I saw them move and they stared up at us with a peculiar blankness.

Sachiko dropped on to one knee and lifted the child’s head. Mariko continued to stare.

“Mariko-San, are you all right?” I said, a little out of breath.

She did not reply. Sachiko too was silent, examining her daughter, turning her in her arms as if she were a fragile, but senseless doll. I noticed the blood on Sachiko’s sleeve, then saw it was coming from Mariko.

“We’d better call someone,” I said.

“It’s not serious,” Sachiko said. “It’s just a graze. See, it’s just a small cut.”

Mariko had been lying in a puddle and one side of her short dress was soaked in dark water. The blood was coming from a wound on the inside of her thigh.

“What happened?" Sachiko said to her daughter. “What happened to you?"

Mariko went on looking at her mother.

“She’s probably shocked,” I said. “Perhaps it’s best not to question her immediately.”

Sachiko brought Mariko to her feet.

“We were very worried about you, Mariko`San,” I said. The little girl gave me a suspicious look, then turned away and started to walk. She walked quite steadily; the wound on her leg did not seem to trouble her unduly.

We walked back over the bridge and along the river. The two of them walked in front of me, not talking. It was completely dark by the time we reached the cottage.

Sachiko took Mariko into the bathroom, lilt the stove in the centre of the main room to make some tea. Aside from the stove, an old hanging lantern Sachiko had lit provided the only source of light, and large areas of the room remained in shadow. In one corner several tiny black kittens aroused by our arrival started to move restlessly. Their claws, catching in the tatami, made a scuttling noise.

When they appeared again, both mother and daughter had changed into kimonos. They went through to one of the small adjoining rooms and I continued to wait for some time. The sound of Sachiko’s voice came through the screen.

Finally, Sachiko came out alone. “It’s still very hot,” she remarked, She crossed the room and slid apart the partitions which opened out onto the veranda.

“How is she?” I asked.

“She’s all right. The cut’s nothing.” Sachiko sat down in the breeze, next to the partitions.

“Shall we report the matter to the police?"

“The police? But what is there to report? Mariko says she was climbing a tree and fell. That’s how she got her cut.”

“So she wasn’t with anyone tonight?”

“No. Who could she have been with?"

“And what about this woman?" I said.

“What woman?"

“This woman Mariko talks about. Are you still certain she’s imaginary?”

Sachiko sighed. “She’s not entirely imaginary", I suppose” she said. “She’s just someone Mariko saw once. Once, when she was much younger."

“But do you think she could have been here tonight, this woman?”

Sachiko gave a laugh. “No, Etsuko, that’s quite impossible in any case, that woman’s dead. Believe me, Etsuko, all this about a woman, it’s just a little game Mariko likes to play when she means to be difficult. I’ve grown

quite used to these little games of hers.”

“But why should she tell stories like that?”

“Why?” Sachiko shrugged. “It’s just what children like to do. Once you become a mother, Etsuko, you’ll need to get used to such things.”

“You’re sure she was with no one tonight?”

“Quite sure. I know my own daughter well enough.”

We fell silent for a moment. Mosquitoes were humming in the air around us. Sachiko gave a yawn, covering her mouth with a hand.

“So you see, Etsuko,’ she said, “I’ll be leaving Japan very shortly. You don’t seem very impressed.”

“Of course I am. And I’m very pleased, if this is what you wished. But won’t there be…various difficulties?"

“Difficulties?”

“I mean, moving to a different country, with a different language and foreign ways.”

“I understand your concern, Etsuko. But really, I don’t think there’s much for me to worry about. You see, I’ve heard so much about America, it won’t be like an entirely foreign country. And as for the language, I already speak it to a certain extent. Frank-San and I, we always talk in English. Once I’ve been in America for a little while, I should speak it like an American woman. I really don’t see there’s any cause for me to be worrying. I know I’ll manage.”