dawned on me that maybe Yuriko had died, and my heart leaped with anticipation.
6 2
G R O T E S Q U E
Grandfather finally picked up the phone.
“Yes, this is he… . Oh, hello, it’s been a long time. Thank you for all you’ve done recently.” Grandfather seemed to be at a loss for words.
Seeing him so tongue-tied I figured the call was from school. I hurriedly pulled the tea bag out of my cup and placed it on the saucer. The tea was still too weak. I’d misjudged. Grandfather called me to the phone with a puzzled look.
“It’s your father. He says he has something to tell you. I can’t understand a word he’s saying, It’s all gibberish. But he’s saying something about an important matter that he can’t talk about with me.”
I had never once received a telephone call directly from my father. I wondered if he was going to tell me that he wouldn’t be sending any more money for tuition. I braced myself for a fight.
“What you’re going to hear will probably be a shock but that can’t be helped. It’s hard for us, but we’ll get through thisthis tragedy for our family.”
Father’s preamble ran on and on. He was usually diligent about getting the order of things right, so his words would have the greatest effect on his listener. But whether it was because he’d been away from Japan and was now used to speaking his native language, his Japanese had deteriorated. Finally, in exasperation, I said, “What do you want to say?”
“Your mother’s dead.”
My fathers voice, melancholy as it was, rose up, unveiling the confusion in his heart. And then things grew deathly quiet at the other end of the line, I couldn’t hear Yuriko’s voice in the background or anything.
“How did she die?” I asked calmly.
“Suicide. I came home just a little while ago and your mother was sleeping. She’d already gone to bed. I thought it strange that she didn’t wake up when I came in, but that’s happened on other occasions. She hasn’t been very talkative of late. When I came closer I saw that she wasn’t breathing. She was already dead. The doctor believes she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills this afternoon and died around seven in the evening, while no one was home. It’s just so sad I can hardly stand to think of it.”
Father stammered this out in faltering Japanese before choking up. “I can’t believe she committed suicide. I suppose it was my fault. She must have done it out of spike.”
By spike, my father meant spite.
6 3
N A T S U O K I R I NO
“It’s all your fault,” I answered coolly. “You dragged her to Switzerland.”
My words angered Father.
“Are you blaming me because you and I don’t get along? Are you saying I’m in the wrong?”
“Well, you’re not completely innocent.”
After a moment of silence my father’s anger gradually abated and his sorrow seemed to deepen. “We lived together for eighteen years. I can’t believe she was the first to die.”
“I’m sure it’s a great shock.”
“Aren’t you sad that your mother’s dead?” my father asked suddenly, surprisingly.
I was not sad. It’s strange, but I felt I’d lost my mother long ago. I’d done all my mourning while I was little, so I hadn’t even felt particularly lonely or sad when my mother left me for Switzerland back in March.
When I heard she’d died, I felt she’d already left for some place far, far away, so feelings of sorrow were quite a different thing for me. But how strange that my father would ask such a thing.
“Of course I’m sad.”
This seemed to satisfy him. Suddenly his voice lost its force.
“I am shocked. Yuriko too; she just got home a little while ago. She’s really upset. I suppose she’s in her room crying now.”
“What’s Yuriko doing coming home so late?” I asked without thinking.
If Yuriko’d been home, she might have discovered Mother earlier.
“She had a datewith a friend of Karl’s son. I had a meeting at work, and it lasted a
6 2
G R O T E S Q U E
Grandfather finally picked up the phone.
“Yes, this is he… . Oh, hello, it’s been a long time. Thank you for all you’ve done recently.” Grandfather seemed to be at a loss for words.
Seeing him so tongue-tied I figured the call was from school. I hurriedly pulled the tea bag out of my cup and placed it on the saucer. The tea was still too weak. I’d misjudged. Grandfather called me to the phone with a puzzled look.
“It’s your father. He says he has something to tell you. I can’t understand a word he’s saying, It’s all gibberish. But he’s saying something about an important matter that he can’t talk about with me.”
I had never once received a telephone call directly from my father. I wondered if he was going to tell me that he wouldn’t be sending any more money for tuition. I braced myself for a fight.
“What you’re going to hear will probably be a shock but that can’t be helped. It’s hard for us, but we’ll get through thisthis tragedy for our family.”
Father’s preamble ran on and on. He was usually diligent about getting the order of things right, so his words would have the greatest effect on his listener. But whether it was because he’d been away from Japan and was now used to speaking his native language, his Japanese had deteriorated. Finally, in exasperation, I said, “What do you want to say?”
“Your mother’s dead.”
My fathers voice, melancholy as it was, rose up, unveiling the confusion in his heart. And then things grew deathly quiet at the other end of the line, I couldn’t hear Yuriko’s voice in the background or anything.
“How did she die?” I asked calmly.
“Suicide. I came home just a little while ago and your mother was sleeping. She’d already gone to bed. I thought it strange that she didn’t wake up when I came in, but that’s happened on other occasions. She hasn’t been very talkative of late. When I came closer I saw that she wasn’t breathing. She was already dead. The doctor believes she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills this afternoon and died around seven in the evening, while no one was home. It’s just so sad I can hardly stand to think of it.”
Father stammered this out in faltering Japanese before choking up. “I can’t believe she committed suicide. I suppose it was my fault. She must have done it out of spike.”
By spike, my father meant spite.
6 3
N A T S U O K I R I NO
“It’s all your fault,” I answered coolly. “You dragged her to Switzerland.”
My words angered Father.
“Are you blaming me because you and I don’t get along? Are you saying I’m in the wrong?”
“Well, you’re not completely innocent.”
After a moment of silence my father’s anger gradually abated and his sorrow seemed to deepen. “We lived together for eighteen years. I can’t believe she was the first to die.”
“I’m sure it’s a great shock.”
“Aren’t you sad that your mother’s dead?” my father asked suddenly, surprisingly.
I was not sad. It’s strange, but I felt I’d lost my mother long ago. I’d done all my mourning while I was little, so I hadn’t even felt particularly lonely or sad when my mother left me for Switzerland back in March.
When I heard she’d died, I felt she’d already left for some place far, far away, so feelings of sorrow were quite a different thing for me. But how strange that my father would ask such a thing.
“Of course I’m sad.”
This seemed to satisfy him. Suddenly his voice lost its force.
“I am shocked. Yuriko too; she just got home a little while ago. She’s really upset. I suppose she’s in her room crying now.”
“What’s Yuriko doing coming home so late?” I asked without thinking.
If Yuriko’d been home, she might have discovered Mother earlier.
“She had a datewith a friend of Karl’s son. I had a meeting at work, and it lasted a
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