Women On the Other Shore (26 page)

Normally, Sayoko would have expected her just to laugh and make some lighthearted remark about runaway wives. Instead, with her face still a complete blank, she squeezed out in a wisp of a voice,

"Did somebody say something to you?"

"Excuse me?" Sayoko said, uncomprehending.

"What are you afraid I'll do to you?" Her lips curled into a smile again. But it was a different kind of smile from before—a cynical, fatalistic smile.

Unable to make any sense of what Aoi was trying to say, Sayoko could only think that she must have hurt her feelings by turning down the invitation. It surprised her to discover that Aoi had such thin skin, but this was the only explanation she could imagine for the abrupt change she had observed.

Then it came to her: Aoi really couldn't comprehend that there were people in this world with circumstances different from her own.

This was the woman who'd so eloquently argued that everybody was different, and the differences were what made encounters meaning-ful, yet she seemed incapable of imagining the tiniest part of what it might mean for a homemaker in charge of a household to be gone 200

overnight without notice—or the firestorm it could provoke even if she did call home at this point.

Akari stirred in Sayoko's arms and lifted her head.

"Where are we, Mommy?" she asked sleepily, looking one way and another. "I wanna go home. I want Daddy." She pressed her face back against her mother's chest looking ready to cry. It was as if she'd expressed what was in Sayoko's own mind.

She turned back to Aoi. "I'm sure you'll discover when you have a family of your own, that if you don't plan things ahead, you can get into all kinds of messes. What's a single night, you might say, and that's what I thought, too. But I really do have to think about my little girl."

Akari had started to whimper. Sayoko gently patted her on the back.

"Of course," Aoi said. T h e fatalistic smile was now gone. "Sorry if I took too much for granted. I'm still footloose and fancy-free, though, without anyone waiting for me at home, so as long as I'm here I think I'll stick around and enjoy myself a bit. The station's right up that way." She reached into her coat pocket for her phone and quickly punched in a number.

"Um, just one thing," Sayoko said, trying to get her attention, but she had her ear to the phone with her head down and ignored her.

Akari was crying in earnest now, her voice echoing into the darkness over the light spilling from the gift shops along the street.

The call connected and Aoi's face lit up. "Hi, it's me. I know this is kind of sudden, but do you happen to be free tonight? How'd you like to win a deluxe overnight stay in historic Atami? The friend I was supposed to come with stood me up, but I'm already here, and it seems a shame to just turn around and go back home, you know? Ha ha ha, that's right. If you're busy, I'll think of someone else. Really? Are you sure? Great! I'll just be hanging out, so call me when you get here. And don't you dare grab anything to eat along the way. There's going to be a full-course dinner waiting for you Uh-huh. See you then."

She punched the END button and turned to Sayoko as if noticing her still standing there for the first time.

"Oh, it's ¥1,950 to Tokyo, isn't it? Are you short? Do you need me to pay?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I figure I'll just kill some time down this way until Takeshi shows up. See ya," she said, promptly turning her back and hurrying off toward the shopping arcade in the opposite direction from the station.

Takeshi? Aoi had called Takeshi? She'd chosen Takeshi Kihara to fill in after Sayoko "stood her up"?

In stunned disbelief, Sayoko gazed after her receding figure.

"Go home, Mommy!" Akari was wailing between sobs. "I wanna go home!"

"Yes, dear. We're on our way." Sayoko noticed there was a quiver in her voice as she tried to comfort her.

She bought two box lunches at a kiosk inside the station before climbing the stairs to the platform. The dimly lit platform was almost empty. Sayoko lowered her daughter onto a bench and sat down beside her, but Akari immediately started fussing to be picked up again.

"Mommy's tired," Sayoko said.

"Up! Up!" the girl clamored, trying to climb onto her mother's lap.

The friend I was supposed to he with stood me up Sorry if I
took too much for granted
Aoi's voice lingered in her ears.
Are you
short? Do you need me to pay?

The entire texture of the day she had been through slowly began to change shape in Sayoko's mind. Aoi hadn't actually come to deliver the good news about the jobs; she'd come to horn in on Akari's special day at school. She hadn't invited them to Atami to celebrate; she'd roped them in to help her blow off some steam.

202

In her effort to climb onto Sayoko's lap, Akari inadvertently kicked their lunches off the bench onto the platform. She instantly froze in anticipation of a scolding, peering warily into her mother's face.

Sayoko stared vacantly at the white plastic bag lying on the concrete.

A voice on the PA announced that the train for Tokyo was approaching and a few moments later it roared into the station. Rising slowly to her feet, Sayoko stooped to pick up the bag.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," Akari said, still tense with apprehension.

Tm sorry."

The coach was not very crowded, so Sayoko and Akari had a four-seat box all to themselves. They sat side by side and ate their meals. When they were finished, Akari lay down with her head in Sayoko's lap and fell asleep. Sayoko gazed at her own reflection in the window.

In his usual happy-go-lucky fashion, Takeshi was even now on his way to Atami, where he would meet up with Aoi and spend the night with her at a hot springs inn.
How tacky,
Sayoko thought.
How
tacky of Aoi to turn to the likes of him.

But a moment later she realized her own behavior had been no better. Knowing Aoi would cover her if need be, she'd tagged merrily along to Atami—before coming to her senses and heading home, yielding her place to Takeshi. She'd foolishly allowed herself to believe that she could follow Aoi's lead and do whatever she wanted.

The expression on the face floating in the darkness beyond the window reminded her of herself as a child after being scolded yet again for chewing on her nails.

12

Neither of her parents raised any objections when Aoi said she wanted to go to the closing-day ceremonies. Aoi thought her mother might come along, but she waved good-bye at the door.

At school, everything seemed far away. Her classmates gave her a wide berth, keeping their distance as they talked amongst themselves. If she thought she heard somebody calling her name and turned to look, the conversation would come to an instant halt and there'd be awkward smiles all around. Both the large closing-day assembly and the homeroom formalities seemed to be taking place on the other side of an invisible wall that wrapped around her.

Aoi had hoped she might find Nanako attending, too, but when she peeked into her classroom her seat was empty. She asked some of Nanako's classmates if anybody knew where she was. Sorry, but no one's told us anything either, they said, their voices surprisingly warm. This answer, too, sounded as though it came from beyond a thick, invisible barrier.

After the ceremonies, Aoi came out the gate under cloudy winter skies. A familiar taxicab was parked nearby.

"Aoi!"

Catching sight of his daughter, Mr. Narahashi dropped his cigarette at his feet and called to her with a cheerful wave.

"I thought maybe we could go to Isezaki—just you and me," he said with a big grin when Aoi had settled into the passenger seat.

"We won't tell Mom. Christmas is coming up, so we can pick out something for your Christmas present. I'll get you anything you 204

want. Within reason, of course—nothing outrageously expensive."

He was more talkative than usual as they drove across the Watarase River into a district where small stores lined the street, then took a right onto the highway leading out of town.

"I think back to when we first moved here, and I remember having a pretty tough time for a while, not knowing the roads or where anything was. I often had to ask my passengers for directions, and this one guy really chewed me out once. 'If I'm paying you to get me there,' he says, 'why the hell should I have to navigate?' He was pretty steamed up. That's ancient history now, though—over a year ago. These days people call me the best cabbie in Gunma."

The sun peeked through a break in the thick clouds, casting its weak rays on the earth below. The South Pacific ornaments Aoi was accustomed to seeing in the cab had been removed. Gone was the lei that used to hang over the rearview mirror. Gone were the gaudy flower-pattern cushions on the back seat. Gone were the plastic vines draped over the front seatbacks.

"I see you took down all those weird decorations," Aoi said, feeling a bit sorry for her father having to hold up the conversation all by himself.

"Yeah. Your mother said I should. She thought they were in poor taste. Actually, I had quite a few passengers tell me they liked them.

But then people who got in late at night after they'd been drinking could get pretty spooked sometimes. They'd think they were halluci-nating or something."

He burst out laughing. Aoi wondered if getting written up in the magazines had had something to do with the ornaments coming down.

"I'm glad you got rid of them, Dad. They were kinda tacky," she said, trying out a little laugh.

"Yeah? You thought they were kinda tacky, did you?" He laughed again, too.

205

Fast-food franchises and family restaurants dotted the route.

Watching them slip by outside the window, her father asked, "How are you for lunch, Aoi? Does the short day mean you didn't eat at school?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, be sure to tell me when you are. I know a great ramen shop."

"I'd expect nothing less from Gunma's best."

They turned to look at each other and laughed.

For a time the view outside the window alternated mostly between low-rise residential and rice paddies. Here and there a larger indus-trial building rose above the surrounding houses. The sun was breaking through more now, and the ridgeline of the mountain became visible in the distance as the clouds lifted. Dropping her eyes from the passing scenery, Aoi fiddled with the buttons on her overcoat.

School regulations allowed students a choice of two styles—single- or double-breasted. Most of her classmates chose singles, but Nanako and Aoi had agreed on getting doubles in the fall of their first year.

"Isezaki has Nichii and lots of other department stores, so you can choose any present you want," her father said. "A stuffed toy. Something to wear. Anything at all."

So Nichii's a department store?
Aoi imagined Nanako asking from the back seat in a cheery voice. She glanced over her shoulder, but there was of course no one there—only a freshly laundered seat cover so immaculately white you might wonder if you dared sit on it.

"I can't think of anything, really," Aoi said, lifting her eyes again.

Her father looked at her. He had the same pained expression he'd had when she asked him to bring her a magazine in the hospital.

Hoping to reassure him, she hastily added, "I mean, not for Christmas. But there's something I'd like for my nineteenth birthday."

"Are you kidding? That's not for a long time yet," he said. "But what is it?"

"A silver ring."

206

"A ring? That's an awfully grown-up thing to want. Sure, absolutely, I'll buy you a ring. No need to wait until you're nineteen.

We'll get you one today at Nichii." Her father had raised his voice cheerfully, obviously much relieved. "But why settle for silver? I'll get you platinum."

"Is that stronger than silver?"

"It's a lot more precious. And silver tarnishes. Gold's better than silver, too, but if you start wearing gold rings at your age, people might think you're some gangster's moll or something. I don't suppose you know this, but your mom's wedding ring is platinum."

He started to tell her about when they went to buy the wedding ring, but Aoi cut him off.

"The thing is, it can't be for Christmas. It has to be for my nineteenth birthday."

"Why's that?"

"It's a secret," Aoi smiled enigmatically. "So I don't want anything today, but maybe I can see what they have at Nichii. In platinum."

"Good idea, good idea. Believe it or not, I've got a pretty good eye for this sort of thing. It's amazing what you can pick up by talking to passengers, even about women's finery. I bet I actually know more than your mom does."

He laughed boisterously. It reminded Aoi of the way he laughed at the dinner table during his improv performances with her mother.

"Dad," she said softly when his laughter had died away. "I want you to know how sorry I am."

Her father said nothing; he just stared at the road ahead with his hands on the wheel.

In Isezaki, they looked over the ring selection at Nichii as well as several independent jewelry stores, but they got back into the cab for the return journey without having made any purchases. Since her father seemed deflated at having come away without spending anything on her, Aoi asked him to take her to the ramen shop.

207

They were most
of
the way home before he finally pulled off the highway in front of a tiny hole-in-the-wall establishment, none too clean looking, with only a sticky counter to sit at. Aoi and her father sat side by side, slurping from the bowls of noodles the cook placed in front of them, topped with slices of roast pork. The light of the setting sun poured in through the window.

"Aoi?" her father grunted when he was about half finished, staring into his bowl. She looked up. "After this, I have to take a little nap and drive all night, you know." He stopped to slurp up some noodles and take a sip of the broth, then stared into his bowl again. "And I'm supposed to get back around noon tomorrow. But in the morning, when you get up, if... I mean, if it just so happens..."