The Graveyard Apartment (31 page)

Yes, she thought, they would be able to make a new start here. In retrospect, maybe they had been overreaching by going all out and buying an apartment. A more freewheeling approach might have been wiser—just moving from place to place whenever they found an irresistibly good deal on a rental house or apartment. Maybe every family simply needed to find the housing solution that worked best for them.

Misao still couldn't stop thinking about the freakish fire and the sudden death of the young woman. It was strange, but two rather inconsequential images seemed to be indelibly seared into her memory: first, the quick glimpse she'd caught of that contented-looking woman's suntanned ankles peeking out from under the cuffs of her rolled-up jeans; and second, the red heart-shaped throw pillows casually tossed onto the sofa in the apartment.

The cause of the young woman's death still hadn't been determined, and there was no reason to think that anyone would contact the Kanos when (or if) an explanation emerged.
That death was pure coincidence,
Misao told herself. She was making a conscious effort to see it that way. Indeed, she
needed
to see it that way. No matter what, she had to believe the young woman's tragically premature demise was nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence. Focusing on that conviction with all her might was the only thing that had carried Misao through these final days.

“Mama? I really like this house,” Tamao said, as she scampered around the garden's square lawn in her bare feet. “You like it, too, don't you, Mama?”

Just then a large black swallowtail butterfly glided over the fence and began pirouetting around, flapping its wings as it hovered above the lawn.

“Yes, I like it very much,” Misao replied absently. She was thinking that a black butterfly didn't seem like the most auspicious housewarming omen. Stretching out her hand, she gently tried to shoo the butterfly away, but it kept circling tenaciously around the periphery of the garden, almost as if it were looking for something. Finally it flew back over the fence and disappeared into the trees.

“Just about this time tomorrow Papa and Cookie will be in this house, too,” Tamao said. “Will Cookie sleep in the garden?”

“That's a good question. The thing is, we've spoiled Cookie rotten, so I don't think she'd be willing to sleep alone in the garden, do you?”

“No, I think she'd be okay with staying outside. Cookie is really strong and brave, you know. She's a very courageous dog.”

“Courageous?” Misao smiled. Recently Tamao's vocabulary had been increasing by leaps and bounds, and she seemed to be growing visibly taller with every passing day, as well. Tamao no longer talked about Pyoko, and Misao wondered whether her daughter had forgotten about the dead finch, or had simply realized that every time she mentioned Pyoko's name it made her mother uncomfortable. Either way, Tamao appeared to have somehow come to terms with that situation, and it comforted Misao to see that her daughter had found the inner strength to deal with the loss of a pet.

Still smiling, Misao turned the key in the lock of the front door of the enchanting new house they would be moving into the next day. Then she and Tamao set off down the road to the station, hand in hand. The tidy, quiet street was quite narrow, but it was lined with uniquely designed, nicely landscaped houses, and every block seemed to boast either a park or a small general store.

“Say, Tamao? I gather Pyoko hasn't been visiting you lately?” Misao asked in a singsong tone as she bent down to straighten the visor on Tamao's little white hat.

Tamao studied her mother through narrowed eyes, as if trying to gauge her parent's mood. Finally she mumbled, “No, he's still coming.”

“He is?” Misao's heart sank.

“Uh-huh. Not every day, anymore, but he still comes to see me.”

“And when Pyoko comes to see you, what does he say? He knows you're going to be moving away, right?”

“Yes, but he was telling me last time that we should move out as soon as possible. He says that building is a very bad place to live.”

“I see,” Misao said, gazing up at the sky. When she closed her eyes against the dazzling rays of the sunshine, she could still feel their warmth soaking through her closed eyelids and bouncing off her face.

“Why do you suppose Pyoko would say something like that?”

“I don't know, but Pyoko's been saying the same thing for a long time.”

“So it seems like Pyoko must know something.”

“Uh-huh. Only Pyoko's just a bird, so he can't really explain too well.”

Misao almost felt a pang of nostalgia for her own blissful ignorance when, just a few months ago, she had believed that Tamao's ability to carry on this type of fantastical conversation must be a flaw in her daughter's psychological makeup: an overactive imagination, perhaps, or a tendency to conflate dreams with reality. Now, though, the talk about Pyoko didn't faze her at all. After the bizarre things Misao had experienced, hearing that a dead bird had been talking to her child through what sounded like some kind of posthumous interspecies telepathy didn't even strike her as remarkable.

We only need to make it through tonight, and then we'll be fine
, Misao thought.
And surely that will be the end of the visits from Pyoko, too. I think the bird was just coming around because he could sense that Tamao was feeling anxious, and starting tomorrow there won't be anything to worry about anymore—for any of us
.

Starting tomorrow … But would tomorrow, that long-awaited, life-changing day, really arrive without any unforeseen complications? Misao gave a sudden start. Tamao, whose little hands were already sticky with sweat, looked up at her mother with apprehension written all over her face.

Here I am, a full-fledged adult strolling hand in hand with a small child on a clear, sunny summer afternoon, but instead of enjoying the moment I'm wallowing in fear and negativity,
Misao thought.
That's simply unforgivable.

Just as the train station loomed into view ahead of them, Misao and Tamao happened upon an ice cream shop. Summoning up a celebratory tone, Misao said, “What do you think, Tamao? Shall we stop for some ice cream?”

“Can we really? Hurray! I want chocolate ice cream.”

“That sounds yummy, but I think Mama's going to go for the rum raisin.”

Still holding hands, Misao and Tamao tripped lightly into the ice cream parlor, which was thronged with exuberant high school girls dressed in their school uniforms. The mother and daughter didn't notice the black swallowtail butterfly that had been following close behind them. The gigantic winged insect lingered around the shop's entrance for a moment, then abruptly flew away.

That evening, Tatsuji and Naomi came over. Tatsuji carried a large overnight bag emblazoned with the Louis Vuitton logo, while Naomi was resplendent in a colorful flower-print summer frock accessorized with a Gucci handbag and an assortment of jangling bracelets—an outfit that seemed better suited to a cocktail party on some glamorous seaside terrace. Her body language made it clear that she had no desire to help her in-laws with their move, and was only doing so with the greatest reluctance. More than likely she had been dragged over by Tatsuji, protesting all the way.

The younger Kanos had brought their car, and while Tatsuji drove Teppei over to the new house to install the living room drapes, Misao began to prepare a simple dinner. She didn't want to dirty too many pots and pans, so she made curry rice along with a large bowl of salad—a nutritious hodgepodge designed to incorporate all the odds and ends of vegetables from the refrigerator.

From start to finish, Naomi prattled incessantly about fashion and travel, pausing only to ask invasive questions in a tone of selfless concern—things like, “How soon do you think you'll be able to buy another apartment?” and “How
are
your family finances these days, anyway?” Misao responded to each query with a smile, but she didn't divulge any information. She was all too aware that Naomi had enjoyed an exceedingly privileged upbringing, and as a result had grown up to be supremely unaware of the need for respectful boundaries. When she was trying to become friendly with someone, Naomi would always begin either by asking impermissibly nosy questions or by broadcasting her own opinions.

The person I used to be five years ago would have found someone like Naomi very difficult to tolerate,
Misao was thinking, bemusedly. Now, though, she was able to give her sister-in-law the benefit of the doubt, because she felt certain that Naomi genuinely wanted the two of them to be on good terms.

“You really lucked out this time, didn't you, Misao? From what I've heard, your new place sounds great.”

“Yeah, we were very lucky this time.”

“The truth is, I've always had a problem with graveyards and temples, for as long as I can remember. Maybe it's a girl thing. I remember when I first heard that you guys were going to move here, I was surprised that you'd be on board with the decision to buy an apartment in this building. It just didn't make sense to me.”

“Well, at the time I wasn't really bothered by the temple or the cemetery,” Misao fibbed. “Actually, I still feel that way. I mean, of course, a cemetery isn't exactly a feel-good place, and I did often find myself wishing we could have been living next to a park instead. But these days people who want the convenience of a central location need to be thick-skinned enough to deal with a few ghosts or whatever, if need be. I'm joking, of course, but I guess my point is that someone who insists on absolute perfection could end up not being able to find any place to live at all.”

Naomi was standing next to the kitchen counter, showing no signs of wanting to help with the dinner preparations. “Okay, but you have to admit that there's something weird about living in a building where everyone else has already moved away,” she said. “To be honest, it kind of gives me the willies. I mean, we're going to be all alone here tonight, right?”

“Yes, we've been the only ones in the building since the caretakers moved out, and everything's been fine. Since you and Tatsuji will be staying over tonight, it's actually going to feel like a party!”

“And you aren't afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Well, I mean, isn't it a little bit frightening to be a solitary family of three living right in front of a graveyard, with nobody else around?”

“I think you've been watching too much TV, Naomi,” Misao teased, borrowing one of Teppei's standard lines. “Honestly, it hasn't been bothering us at all. Besides, we've been focused on finding a new place and getting ready to move, and we haven't had time to worry about minor things like that.”

“You're such a strong person,” Naomi said, her eyes widening in evident admiration. “If I were you, I would have run away a long time ago.”

It's not as if I didn't want to,
Misao thought, but she forced a smile.

Just then the men returned from their errand. Everyone sat down at the dining table and began to eat, carrying on a sprightly conversation all the while. After dinner Teppei and Tatsuji went into the living room to watch a baseball game while Naomi did some desultory table clearing, then wandered off to the nursery to help Tamao pack her toys and stuffed animals.

The technicians wouldn't be coming to uninstall the air conditioner until the following day, so the apartment was still pleasantly cool. While Naomi and Tatsuji—who appeared to be getting along extremely well—were taking a bath together, Misao and Teppei laid out a double futon for the guests on the floor of Tamao's room.

“You're going to sleep with Papa and Mama tonight, all right?” Teppei said when Tamao wandered into the nursery holding her teddy bear.

“Woa-kay,” Tamao rejoined. “But Pooh-Bear has to sleep with us, too.”

“That's fine. So there'll be four of us, instead of three,” Teppei said, patting Tamao's head. “It's going to be fun—almost like going on a camping trip!”

Tamao laughed delightedly as she left the room, pulling Cookie, who had trotted in behind her, along by the collar.

“It's pretty amazing that the place we're moving to is so nearby,” Teppei said as he used both hands to smooth out some lumps in the fluffy comforter that covered the guest futon. “It should be an easy move.”

“I just can't help wondering how Tatsuji and Naomi really feel about helping,” Misao said.

“Well, Tatsuji offered ages ago, and they seemed perfectly willing to come over tonight, so I wouldn't worry about it. I doubt if they have anything better to do. Even so, we're going to owe them, big-time. But hey, more important, what's with Naomi's outfit, anyway? Is she seriously planning to wear that tomorrow during the move? I couldn't believe it when she turned up tonight wearing a fancy dress with trailing skirts, like some princess in a fairy tale.”

“I don't see the problem,” Misao said with a wry smile. “There won't be that much work for her to do, and it'll be a huge help for me if she can just keep an eye on Tamao tomorrow.”

Teppei stretched out his neck and made a
humph
sound, then flopped down across the newly laid bedding. “I never imagined we'd end up leaving this place so soon,” he said. “It seems like only yesterday we were moving in.”

“No one could have seen this coming, but we really didn't have a choice,” Misao said. “We couldn't very well go on living in a place that felt so unsafe.”

“If we ever tried to tell someone from the outside world about what's happened here, they'd probably think we were crazy,” Teppei mused.

“It's one of those things you just can't talk about, but eventually there will probably be rumors floating around,” Misao said. “I mean, after we leave tomorrow morning, this building will be completely deserted.”