I Wonder What Human Flesh Tastes Like (16 page)

I turned to face her.

—
Mieko, look... I’m really sorry, I’ve just...

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

—
It’s nothing.

Mieko didn’t seem upset, but I knew she wouldn’t forget this soon. The Chinese situation had slowly built a wall between us, and it was now uncommon for us to talk much more than this. I’d realized this before, distantly, but now it struck me that Mieko had been continuing to live outside of my thoughts, ignorant of the Chinese situation, and thus anything of real import, but still conscious and present.

—
So how was your day? I asked her later, when we were in bed.

—
Oh, not bad. I talked with some of my students about how important it is to tell the truth.

I let out a little sigh and looked over at her, but she only continued reading, without a hint of a smile to betray her. Was she being literal? Or was she mocking Yoshimori’s and my usual style? I couldn’t tell. I turned off my light and rolled over, hugging the pillow to my head. I couldn’t sleep, and wasn’t much surprised when the phone rang at three in the morning.

—
Kenji, it’s Toshio, came my brother’s voice from the other end of the line. Don’t hang up.

I didn’t.

—
We need to meet, now, he continued.

To my surprise, he gave me the name of the hotel where I’d stayed with Yukino and Hee Ying.

—
Why not your apartment? I asked.

—
I’ll explain when you get here.

I got up and dressed and, becoming conscious of a stifling heat, pulled back the drapes and opened the window. Outside, from the look of slick dampness on the street, it had just finished raining.

When I arrived at the room Toshio had specified, I found the door unlocked. I knocked anyway, and within a few moments heard a brief grunt of acknowledgment.

Inside, countless books, papers, and empty liquor bottles lay scattered across the floor. The television was on, the volume turned down to a low hum. The window was closed and the drapes drawn. A figure was hunched over the desk, scribbling frantically on a scrap of paper. As I approached, its head turned towards me.

My brother was almost unrecognizable — haggard, unshaven, his eyes abnormally wide, it seemed scarcely possible that this wasted figure was the same dapper, punctual Toshio whom I had known for so long. I started back in surprise as he spoke.

—
Kenji, finally. Where have you been?

I looked down and realized Toshio was wearing a Qing dynasty robe. A greasy fringe of hair protruded from the front of his skull cap.

—
Toshio. What are you doing staying at this hotel?

The question seemed to barely register until Toshio took a drink from the open bottle next to him on the table. Then his eyes snapped open.

—
I’ve left Chie. I’m staying here until I leave the country.

—
You’ve what?

Toshio stirred into a delirious kind of attention once more.

—
Kenji. How did you figure out about the existence of Chinese people? I’ve been going crazy trying to figure it out. I’ve seen Chinese people all my life and I never even realized it.

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I don’t know. I read something in the paper about Chinese people and I just realized it.

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When you called me over last week I didn’t understand you at first. I thought you were playing a joke on me. Then I started to think about it...

Toshio proffered the bottle, but I declined.

—
We have to tell someone, he said. This kind of awareness...

—
I don’t think that would be a good idea. Just because we have a little knowledge doesn’t mean we should assume we can help everyone else.

Toshio considered this. A furious gleam lit up his eyes.

—
No, you’re right. Think of the kind of power this knowledge will give us! The Furusawa brothers are probably the only ones who get it... all those idiots out there are completely ignorant! Like Chie’s father, the CEO. He thinks he knows how this whole country works. But he doesn’t know China. So what the hell does he know?

At this Toshio broke into a sudden and frightening peal of laughter.

—
Well, I said. What if someone came up to you and told you you were Japanese?

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Yeah, so what?

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Well, would you have realized it before?

Toshio looked at me blankly.

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Of course I’m Japanese. But what’s your point?

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That’s the thing... obviously there’s no such thing as ‘Japanese’ or ‘Chinese.’ They’re just ideas people have created. At the same time, I know exactly what you mean. I don’t think Chinese reality and non-Chinese reality are really separate, but the distinction still exists. It’s neither existing nor not-existing, present nor not-present. Until I understand this I don’t think I can talk to anyone else about it.

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Well, I don’t know about that, Toshio said. But I think our course of action is pretty clear.

—
Tell me about it in a moment, I said. I need to take a piss.

Inside the tiny bathroom, I noticed a folded scrap of paper next to the sink. I unfolded it. On it, Toshio had written:
What is the weight of China?
Under it, noughts and crosses, dark scribbles
.

What was this scrap? A fragment to be expanded on in later writing? A rough draft of a suicide note? Certainly Toshio seemed in unsteady spirits.

As I was turning to leave, I noticed something else: several ripped women’s clothes, hanging over the shower bar.

—
What does this mean? I asked Toshio, showing him the piece of paper.

—
Something I wrote before realization. You shouldn’t have read it. It’s not important now.

He took the scrap from me and tore it to shreds.

—
What about those clothes in the bathroom?

Toshio let out a long sigh.

—
The night after I left Chie, I was walking around at night by myself, just thinking. That was when I truly understood China.

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I call it ‘the Chinese epiphany,’ I said.

—
I understood the implications and how they related to me. I started walking back home, and then I realized I couldn’t see Chie again. There was nowhere I’d really be at home anymore. Everything had changed. I could feel myself becoming a ghost!

Toshio uttered something halfway between a laugh and a scream.

—
What happened? I asked.

—
I was so lonely. There was no one I could talk to and you wouldn’t take my calls. So I started looking for Chinese prostitutes. I found three of them and brought them back here.

—
Uh huh...

—
But then I couldn’t do anything with them. I didn’t feel anything. I made them speak Chinese to each other for an hour or so, then I bought some of their clothes from them. I don’t know why...

Toshio looked up at me from the sheet of paper.

—
I don’t know what I was thinking, he said. I just realized how ridiculous I was. I could tell they felt it too, they all thought I was ridiculous. No Chinese man would ever have done something like that.

I could see that Toshio was greatly distressed at having failed to uphold the correct ethical stance of a well-born man aspiring to Chineseness.

—
Your impotence isn’t all that surprising, I said. Chinese women are part of the Chinese reality, and in the face of this reality, the unsteady flame of desire is extinguished.

I did not tell Toshio of my thoughts about Hee Ying.

—
I’m a vigorous man, Kenji. The only other time I’ve failed like this was with Tomoko Watanabe. Do you remember her?

I did. Tomoko Watanabe was a girl Toshio had been in love with during our youth. As far as I know, he never spoke to her.

—
I spent so much time trying to get off to her and I never could. It wouldn’t work. Like she was above all that. But, anyway — that’s not important. Have a look at this.

Toshio now got to his feet and took a manila envelope from the bed.

—
We know that the Chinese number in the billions, and there are millions of overseas Chinese. But where do the borders of this Chineseness end? What about the Chinese who have assimilated and become Chinese-Americans or some other group, and no longer speak or act Chinese?

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Again, I don’t think the Chinese reality exists in language or appearance. I don’t think there’s a separation between the Chinese reality and non-Chinese reality. To even suggest such a thing is to lose any hope of reaching the Chinese reality. It’s not dualistic like that. But I feel like even when we’ve thrown out all our words we’ll still be a thousand miles away.

—
Not for long, said my brother, raising the manila envelope. I’ve already purchased plane tickets. We leave for China tomorrow.

What Toshio had said barely registered.

—
Because we’re in Japan now, it’s hard for us to understand the Chinese existence. When we’re actually in China, we’ll be like drops of water falling into the ocean.

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I’m not sure I believe that’s possible.

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Of course it is. You need to study more — look what I’ve been reading.

Toshio took a book from the side of the bed and handed it to me.

—
Did you know that in 213 BC, the first emperor, Qin Shihuangdi, destroyed every book, scroll, and record in China? He was trying to restart history with the beginning of his rule. The beginning of the empire and the beginning of time would be the same.

I confessed that I hadn’t known this.

—
Can you imagine that? A new genesis, a new start to history. Only the Chinese would be capable of that kind of ingenuity.

I sat down on the bed.

—
Look, if we’re leaving, what about Mieko?

—
What about her?

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Well, how long will we be gone for?

Toshio paused, looking baffled.

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For good. Why would we come back?

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So what am I supposed to tell her?

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Explain the situation to her.

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I’ve tried, she doesn’t get it.

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What are you worried about then? If she doesn’t get it, how could you stay with her anyway?

I tossed the book aside.

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Toshio... you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

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You know I’m right. What kind of future could you have with her now?

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Well, for one thing, I was thinking of starting a family sometime in the future. Did you think of that?

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If you want kids, adopt some Chinese ones. I’d even considered that myself.

I stared at my brother.

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Doesn’t get it, he said. How could she not get it?

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Don’t get so full of yourself. At first, you didn’t know what I was saying either. It took you a while to get that cultivated realization.

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That’s different. You’re missing the point.

I got to my feet.

—
I’m going to give you some more time to think about this. I might come back later.

—
You know I’m right, Kenji. I always knew you were a coward, but I didn’t think you’d be able to ignore something that’s right in front of your eyes!

I left the hotel room and walked down the flight of stairs. My footsteps sounded against the wet pavement. Small pools of rain from earlier in the night had formed in the cracks in the sidewalk. Light from the street lamps flickered in their depths.

How lightly I had — in the view of some, no doubt — ruined my brother’s life. When I told him of the Chinese situation I had thought nothing of the consequences, wishing only to relieve my own loneliness. Yet in my final evaluation, I think, I acted justly. It is natural for human beings to prefer a comforting illusion to an inhospitable reality. Perhaps Toshio was one of the few who could have realized the truth — I am thinking here of Mieko’s indifference — and thus it was best to tell him.

A sudden terror struck me. I recalled the moment in which I had identified with Hee Ying, and saw myself again as an alien; but with her gone I could find no safe vantage point from which to consider anything. I tried to free myself, but no matter how much I stepped back, distancing my thoughts, I couldn’t fall off the edge of my mind. I remained locked in place, parallel and separate from the Chinese reality.

Perhaps it was possible to go to China... but I did not share Toshio’s confidence. I saw myself stepping out of my country, my life, into the greater world in the same way a ghost, emerging from the dark that sustains it, is struck by true light and dissolved, bleached out of existence.

Dawn hadn’t yet broken when I returned home. It was a hot night, but a breeze blew through the window of my room, rustling the drapes. I was about to get into bed when I realized Mieko wasn’t there. Looking up, I saw her sitting in a chair by the window.

—
Where were you? she asked.

As I stood looking at Mieko, something ridiculous happened. I began to cry. I wasn’t sure whether it was for myself or for her. Whichever it was, there was no way for me to dignify my sadness. Mieko’s first, accurate reaction was laughter.