The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (11 page)

Masako looked Bunichi straight in the eyes and said, “Will you come with me?”

“Of course I will.”

“Thanks,” said Masako, dropping her gaze. She was so happy to be returning to the place she’d loved after so many years away. And to go there with Bunichi was even better. But at the same time, she was a little worried about whatever horrible secrets she might find there.

Over the next few days, Masako wrestled with her mixed feelings. Then, when Sunday came, the weather was perfect, with not a single cloud in the sky. Bunichi came to pick her up early in the morning, and he seemed pleasantly surprised to see her wearing a very colourful dress.

“Wow!” said Bunichi. “You actually look like a proper girl with that on!”

“How rude!” pouted Masako. “What do you normally think of me as?”

“A girl, of course.”

“Well,” replied Masako, “you’ve also dressed up more than usual, haven’t you.”

Bunichi looked down at his new dark-green sweater as his cheeks turned bright-red in embarrassment.

Together they walked along until they reached the train station, where they took the local line downtown. Then they changed to another train, from where they watched the city fade away through the windows to be replaced by beautiful countryside scenes, with the leaves of trees changing to a palette of different colours and the rice fields glowing the brilliant gold of the harvest season.

“Do your grandparents still live in the countryside?” asked Bunichi, turning to Masako.

“No, we don’t have family there any more. Apparently some people we don’t know are living in the house we used to live in. But there are a lot of people we knew in the neighbourhood, so I’m sure they will all remember me.”

“So you were born there?”

“Yeah, I lived there until I was six. After that my dad got his job, and we moved out into town.”

A full four hours later, they arrived at their destination, where they took a quick lunch at a small restaurant along the shopping avenue near the station, then slowly started on their one-kilometre walk to the village where Masako was born. Behind them, the sun shone across the low mountains and hills nearby, and the air was clear and refreshing. On either side of the road there were fields of radishes and turnips, but there was not a soul in sight – perhaps because it was lunchtime.

“After we cross that river,” said Masako, “there’s not much further to go.”

Masako felt conflicting emotions rising within her. She was excited to be back, but felt uneasy about what might lie ahead.

As they climbed the slope of the riverbank, Masako was surprised to see how wide and deep the river was. There was a long bridge that ran across it, and she remembered the bridge being there. But she hadn’t seen it in such a long time, and now that she was looking at it again, she noticed its low wooden rails on both sides, which were rotten and broken in various places. She looked at the telegraph poles dotted along the bridge at ten-metre intervals, and past the bridge she could make out the shape of the snow-capped mountain range beyond.

This is it! she thought. This is the bridge that appeared in my nightmare!

Masako’s feelings of nostalgia turned to fear, and her legs refused to carry her any farther forward.

Bunichi stopped as well and looked at Masako with cool, thoughtful eyes.

“It’s this bridge, isn’t it?” he said. “The one you saw in your dream.”

“Yes,” was all Masako managed to say.

“Come on, let’s go!” said Bunichi. “Let’s cross the bridge.”

Masako wished she could say no. But if she were to turn back now, then she’d miss out on the chance to shed light on the darkness inside her. Then she thought back on how she’d urged her little brother to face his fears and walk along the hallway, and she started to feel a little embarrassed.

“Okay, I’ll go,” she said, reaching out reluctantly to Bunichi, who grabbed her hand firmly and began walking just a little ahead of her.

“Be careful not to touch the rails!” said Masako with a tremble in her voice.

“Don’t worry,” said Bunichi, “we’ll just walk down the middle of the bridge.”

Together they carried on for several more careful steps, with Bunichi leading the way and Masako keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her feet. Then Bunichi turned around and stopped.

“Masako, that’s not going to work,” he said with a frown. “You have to look around more and try to remember as much as you can.”

“But I can’t!” said Masako, covering her face with her hands. “I have this bad feeling that what happened in my dream will happen here! The poles will come tumbling down! Oh and there’s someone standing behind that pole! See, something is going to jump out!”

It was then that they heard a voice nearby – a girl’s voice.

“Masako! You’re Masako, aren’t you?”

Masako dropped her hands from her face in surprise and looked towards the girl who was calling her name. The voice belonged to a girl much taller than Masako. She wore pigtails and a school uniform, and she was standing about five metres away, staring right at them.

“Etsuko! You’re Etsuko, aren’t you?” Masako blurted out, her feelings of nostalgia resurfacing.

Etsuko had grown into a pretty girl with smooth skin. She was much taller now, but she still had the same big eyes and full cheeks she’d had as a young child. Masako was sure she’d recognize her anywhere and that Etsuko would recognize Masako anywhere too. Masako wanted to run up and give her a hug. But instead, she hesitated. It had been such a very long time since they’d last seen each other, and Masako felt a little shy. But it was okay, because Etsuko seemed to be feeling the same way as well. So, slowly, the two of them walked towards each other.

“You’ve grown so much,” said Masako.

“I know. I’m like a telegraph pole, aren’t I!”

Together they laughed and, inside, Masako felt quite relieved.
She hasn’t changed one bit
! she thought to herself.

Masako and Etsuko grabbed each other’s hands in delight, and Bunichi gave a small but purposeful cough, prompting Masako to introduce him.

“This is my classmate. Bunichi Morimoto. And this is Etsuko Kitajima. You remember I told you about her?”

Bunichi took an awkward step forward and stiffly introduced himself.

“I’ve heard a lot about you from Masako,” said Bunichi in his best adult-like voice, forcing Masako to stifle a giggle.

Etsuko blushed a little and bowed her head.

“How many years has it been?” asked Masako.

“Let me see...” said Etsuko, walking over to the wooden railing. “It must be seven... no, eight years now! I often thought about you. We were such good friends, but you never came back to see us.”

“I’m sorry. I often thought of you as well. You were even in my dream.”

Masako tried to take a step towards Etsuko, but stopped in her tracks. The railing behind Etsuko was rotten and weak, and she was afraid it might break off.

“But now we’ve finally been reunited!” said Etsuko, walking over to Masako and taking her hands in hers. “I was so worried that you were still upset about that incident.”

Masako was startled to hear Etsuko’s words, and she quickly glanced back to Bunichi.

“What do you mean, ‘that incident’?” asked Bunichi as he stepped towards Etsuko with a serious look on his face.

Masako’s pulse was racing. What was this mysterious incident? Was it the cause of Masako’s troubled emotions? Did Etsuko hold the key to unlock Masako’s nightmares?

“What’s the matter?” said Bunichi. “You both look so serious... You’re scaring me.”

Without thinking, Masako placed both hands firmly on Etsuko’s shoulders. Etsuko grimaced in pain.

“Please, tell me! What happened? What do you mean by ‘the incident’?”

“You’re hurting me!” cried Etsuko. “Let me go!”

But Masako was far too caught up in her need for answers. In fact, she was shaking Etsuko by the shoulders without even realizing it. Fortunately, Bunichi stepped in and took Masako’s hands in his.

“Ow, that hurt,” said Etsuko, rubbing her shoulders and throwing a glare in Masako’s direction. “You didn’t come here to see me, did you? What did you come here for? Don’t tell me you don’t remember what happened.”

“Look,” said Bunichi. “I don’t know what happened between you two. But Masako is struggling because she can’t remember what the incident was.”

“Are you serious?” asked Etsuko, looking beyond Bunichi’s shoulders to where Masako was standing, about to burst into tears. “You really have forgotten?”

Masako nodded sadly.

“I’m disappointed,” said Etsuko with a downcast look on her face, then she turned her back to them and walked over to the rail again.

All three of them stood for a while in silence, listening to the sounds of frogs and wondering what to do next. Then, finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, Bunichi decided to speak out.

“Listen, Etsuko,” he said. “Masako is feeling bad about something. But she doesn’t know what it is or why. Please can you try to understand?”

“And I’m sorry for becoming hysterical like that too,” added Masako.

“Etsuko?” continued Bunichi. “Whatever it was that happened between you two, did it happen here on this bridge?”

“Did somebody fall perhaps?” asked Masako, timidly.

Etsuko whipped her head around and shot Masako a nasty glare.

“Did somebody fall, you ask?” she shouted, pointing at Masako. “You threw me off the bridge!”

Masako couldn’t believe her ears. She shook her head again and again, wishing it would all go away and, without realizing, she took a step backward, then another, then another.

“No way! That can’t be true!” she said to herself. “There’s no way I would ever do such a thing.”

“Masako,” said Bunichi in a worried voice.

Then, suddenly, Masako let out a long and lingering scream – splitting the silence around them. In a flash, she remembered. She remembered everything, and the shock of it all sent her running.

“Hey, where are you going?” called out Bunichi behind her. “Watch out!”

Masako was running and stumbling, with her hands wiping the tears that ran from her eyes. But fortunately, by the time she had reached the end of the bridge, Bunichi caught up with her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said. “That’s so dangerous. You weren’t looking where you were going! What if you’d run into one of those rails?”

“I didn’t mean to!” cried Masako as Bunichi put his arms around her. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

It had all happened eight years ago, when Masako was only seven years old. It was autumn, but it had been a humid day, with the distant mountain range turning grey under cloudy skies and rain threatening to fall at any moment. No one else was there, and there wasn’t a sound, except for the cries of the frogs by the water below. Masako was on her way home, having finished the shopping her mother had asked her to do at the other end of the bridge, and she was walking deliberately down the middle – as her mother had always told her to – away from the dangerous rails along the sides. That was when it happened.

“Do you remember?” asked Bunichi, kindly, and Masako gave a sheepish nod.

Etsuko, who had been running behind Bunichi, caught up.

“Masako! I’m sorry! I had no idea you were suffering so much! I mean, it happened eight years ago!”

“But I remember! Etsuko, I remember now!”

“But it was my fault!” said Etsuko, gripping Masako’s hand. “That day, I’d taken the Prajna mask hanging on my father’s wall without asking. I thought I could wear it and surprise someone. That’s why I was hiding behind the pole on that bridge. But it wasn’t like I was planning to play a prank on you. I was just waiting for the first person to cross the bridge. It could’ve been anyone. I didn’t even know it was you until I came out from behind the pole. Please believe me!”

Masako played the incident again in her mind: Etsuko jumping out in front of her with the Prajna mask on and her hair flailing wildly in the autumn breeze. She remembered how she’d screamed in sheer terror, and how she’d pushed Etsuko in the chest with all her strength. She recalled the sound of Etsuko’s back hitting the rail behind her and the crack of the wood giving way behind her. How Etsuko had seemed to hang in mid-air for just a moment before plunging with a scream into the waters below.

“Luckily, I fainted while I was falling,” said Etsuko, “so I didn’t actually swallow much water.”

Masako tried hard to listen, but Etsuko’s voice seemed as if it were coming from far away.

“Then I floated a little way downriver and came to rest on the bank,” continued Etsuko, putting her hand gently on Masako’s shoulder, “and that’s where somebody found me. Luckily, it was someone I knew, so they carried me straight back home. Unfortunately, I ended up getting pneumonia, so I was bedridden for quite a long time. But by the time I’d finally recovered, you were already gone. Your family had already moved into town.”

“I felt so alone,” sniffed Masako, with her eyes still staring blankly into the distance. “After I pushed you into the river, I ran back home crying. And after that I came down with a fever. All the time I was in bed I kept having horrible dreams. I was delirious and talking in my sleep. And when I was finally able to get up...”

Masako’s voice trailed off and she hung her head.

“And then you didn’t remember what happened, right?” said Bunichi, stepping in to help his friend explain. “You’d forgotten everything!”

“That’s right,” Masako nodded.

“When you threw Etsuko off the bridge, you thought you killed her,” Bunichi continued. “The feeling of guilt was so strong that you couldn’t handle it, so unconsciously you erased everything from your memory.”

Bunichi was exactly right. Masako must have been so worried about Etsuko that she’d come down with a fever and felt so bad about what had happened that she’d erased it from her memory. But somehow, she’d always remained afraid of Prajna masks. Or was she? Perhaps it wasn’t that she was afraid of Prajna masks at all. Perhaps she was simply afraid that the mask might make her remember the terrible incident. Maybe that was why she was scared of heights too. And maybe that was why saving Bunichi from falling hadn’t been enough to cure that fear of heights – but it had served to remind her that something like that had happened before and that there was somebody else who needed saving.