everything done step by careful step.
Just then the doorbell rang. I ran to the front hall, glancing at Stum through the back screen door. It struck a pitter of panic in my heart, the thought of coming face to face with her, his new friend. But he shrugged his shoulders, gave a dumb look. He came in, went to the window, and peeked through the drapes just as I opened the door.
It was Keiko. She stood there, a neat, solid block lit bythe porch light. It startled me seeing her up close for the first time in some years. She’d aged; her skin had darkened even more, and coarsened like sand. Her lids drooped over her eyes, giving her a sad but impervious look, as if nothing touched her. These days, her hair was cut short to the chin. I touched a hand to my unkempt hair.
“Nakamura-san.” I never knew what to call her. “How nice—”
“Is she here?”
“Yes, she is,” I said. “But—”
“I’ll take my daughter home now, Miss Saito.” She rested her hand on the doorknob, waiting. The other hand gripped a flashlight; a circle flickered from the wall to the floor, big, then small.
“She’s sleeping,” I announced, more bluntly than I’d intended.
“Wake her up then, please,” Keiko replied coldly. “I’m sorry she’s been such a bother.” Not sorry at all, I thought. Furious. That she should have to come to me for her daughter; that I’d indulged the girl, shown her some care. Keiko’s eyes flitted up behind me. I turned to find Sachi at the top of the stairs, her damp clothes back on.
“I’m coming,” she said, in a timid little-girl voice, and bounced down the steps without so much as a glance at me. Keiko swiftly pushed her out the door and picked up the soaked sneakers left on the mat.
“Thank you, Miss Saito.” Keiko held the door. “Please don’t bother yourself again like this,” she said—a warning, I thought. She dropped the shoes on the porch for Sachi to slide into. The lonely chirp of crickets filtered in.
“Good-night, Miss Saito.” Keiko nodded, then let go of the door.
“Good-night, Miss Saito,” mimicked Stum, dragging himself lazily into the kitchen.
Petty woman, I said to myself. Cold and petty. Reminding me, the old schoolmarm, of my lonely status, so different from hers. Through my parted curtains, I watched them cross the field, Keiko’s flashlight pointing a long lit finger in front of them. For a moment I imagined Sachi turning to look back at me. But then she was prancing in circles around her mother among the grasses, tugging at her as she strode forward. I knew what was in Sachi’s heart. I’d caught the look that had passed between them the instant they saw one another. Sachi’s eyes had flared with yearning. It wasn’t just about Tam. It was about Keiko. In an instant she’d forgotten all about me. Everything I’d done for her. Just as Stum would.
Once they were home, everything would settle into place, back to normal, I told myself. To the routine of it all, one thing after another, no cracks for Sachi to fall into. Keiko would not let that happen. Keiko with her strong, muscular calves flexing, going here, going there. Expecting Sachi to follow, equally efficient. Bewildered by the girl’s brooding sprawl across her bed and the record she played over and over with its squealing high notes descending at the end. Thinking too much, feeling too much, as if the thoughts and feelings were special somehow. The cuts Sachi never tried to hide, from tiptoeing out to the kitchen in the dead of night. The knife slid from its block, left there on the counter. In the morning washed and wiped clean, put backin its place by Keiko without a word. Sachi would return to me as she always did, all that yearning, that faith in another, wasted.
Eiji did not console me that night. I could not bring myself to be comforted by one of my stories murmured to myself with his picture cradled in my hands, resting on my lap. I had, in fact, felt a little estranged from Eiji
Just then the doorbell rang. I ran to the front hall, glancing at Stum through the back screen door. It struck a pitter of panic in my heart, the thought of coming face to face with her, his new friend. But he shrugged his shoulders, gave a dumb look. He came in, went to the window, and peeked through the drapes just as I opened the door.
It was Keiko. She stood there, a neat, solid block lit bythe porch light. It startled me seeing her up close for the first time in some years. She’d aged; her skin had darkened even more, and coarsened like sand. Her lids drooped over her eyes, giving her a sad but impervious look, as if nothing touched her. These days, her hair was cut short to the chin. I touched a hand to my unkempt hair.
“Nakamura-san.” I never knew what to call her. “How nice—”
“Is she here?”
“Yes, she is,” I said. “But—”
“I’ll take my daughter home now, Miss Saito.” She rested her hand on the doorknob, waiting. The other hand gripped a flashlight; a circle flickered from the wall to the floor, big, then small.
“She’s sleeping,” I announced, more bluntly than I’d intended.
“Wake her up then, please,” Keiko replied coldly. “I’m sorry she’s been such a bother.” Not sorry at all, I thought. Furious. That she should have to come to me for her daughter; that I’d indulged the girl, shown her some care. Keiko’s eyes flitted up behind me. I turned to find Sachi at the top of the stairs, her damp clothes back on.
“I’m coming,” she said, in a timid little-girl voice, and bounced down the steps without so much as a glance at me. Keiko swiftly pushed her out the door and picked up the soaked sneakers left on the mat.
“Thank you, Miss Saito.” Keiko held the door. “Please don’t bother yourself again like this,” she said—a warning, I thought. She dropped the shoes on the porch for Sachi to slide into. The lonely chirp of crickets filtered in.
“Good-night, Miss Saito.” Keiko nodded, then let go of the door.
“Good-night, Miss Saito,” mimicked Stum, dragging himself lazily into the kitchen.
Petty woman, I said to myself. Cold and petty. Reminding me, the old schoolmarm, of my lonely status, so different from hers. Through my parted curtains, I watched them cross the field, Keiko’s flashlight pointing a long lit finger in front of them. For a moment I imagined Sachi turning to look back at me. But then she was prancing in circles around her mother among the grasses, tugging at her as she strode forward. I knew what was in Sachi’s heart. I’d caught the look that had passed between them the instant they saw one another. Sachi’s eyes had flared with yearning. It wasn’t just about Tam. It was about Keiko. In an instant she’d forgotten all about me. Everything I’d done for her. Just as Stum would.
Once they were home, everything would settle into place, back to normal, I told myself. To the routine of it all, one thing after another, no cracks for Sachi to fall into. Keiko would not let that happen. Keiko with her strong, muscular calves flexing, going here, going there. Expecting Sachi to follow, equally efficient. Bewildered by the girl’s brooding sprawl across her bed and the record she played over and over with its squealing high notes descending at the end. Thinking too much, feeling too much, as if the thoughts and feelings were special somehow. The cuts Sachi never tried to hide, from tiptoeing out to the kitchen in the dead of night. The knife slid from its block, left there on the counter. In the morning washed and wiped clean, put backin its place by Keiko without a word. Sachi would return to me as she always did, all that yearning, that faith in another, wasted.
Eiji did not console me that night. I could not bring myself to be comforted by one of my stories murmured to myself with his picture cradled in my hands, resting on my lap. I had, in fact, felt a little estranged from Eiji
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