Novel Excerpt (Untitled)

Chapter 1

As they passed through the station door the blowing cold hit him and he buried his face deeper into his muffler. Tokyo had been chilly, especially at night, but here the cold was a shock. He stuffed his bare hands in his jacket pockets and glanced around.

The station, slightly elevated, gave a view across a patchwork of trees and wooden rooftops. The surrounding mountain peaks were lost in thick clouds, and just beyond the northern edge of town gondola cars moved silently up and down an exposed slope.

In such a small town it wouldn?t matter which inn the woman led him to. From what he could see, no place would be more than a twenty-minute walk from anywhere else. If his father?s family still lived here he wouldn?t need more than a day or two to track them down. Even so, he had no plans to leave?finding them was only the beginning of what he?d come for.

?Are you sure you?re not too tired to walk?? the woman said as they turned onto the street that fronted the station. The area was filled with souvenir shops and restaurants, though up the street they began to thin out.

The question struck Yasu as strange, as the trip had only taken a few hours. ?I?m not tired at all. And since you?re carrying my bag I?ve got nothing to complain about.?

Her insistence that she carry his bag had initially made him uncomfortable. But it was only one bag, and if at any point she struggled with the weight he would take it wherever they had to walk.

She had sat beside him on a crowded train leaving Tokyo station. And although the passengers had dwindled once the train reached the city?s purlieus, he and the woman remained seated together. To an outsider they would have surely seemed like a couple?intermittently she slept, and once or twice she dipped to the side and even leaned against his shoulder. There was something simple about the trust she put in him, and he made a point to keep still in order not to disturb her.

He fully realized her beauty only when he wiped a circle in the fogged window and the profile of her face filled it halfway. That her face should appear there startled him, and he shifted in his seat so that her features filled the circle perfectly. In the window her reflection was superimposed against the mountains. The train blasted its horn, which sent into flight a white crane in a nearby field, and he watched it flap slowly within the circle of the woman?s face until it lifted and disappeared.

Yasu and the woman didn?t speak to each other until he took out a map and began studying it.

?Where are you going?? she said, taking an interest in his map. It was the first time she had spoken to him.

Yasu angled the unfolded page toward her and touched the name of the town. ?My father?s family lives there.?

?That?s where I?m going,? she said. ?I live there, too.? As she leaned closer to the page, he took in the features of her face like a long, steady breath.

It was as unblemished a face as he?d ever come across. Even without makeup, her lips were but a shade lighter than blood, and her cheeks, even in the closed-up warmth of the train, showed a healthy ruddiness of someone he could guess had lived all her life in the mountains. He found the flush in her face attractive?without any effort on her part, she seemed vibrant and full of life.

?Why is your map in English?? she said.

?I don?t read Japanese characters well.? He could see this confused her, so he quickly explained. ?I?m Japanese-American?a Nisei.?

She paused, as if letting this sink in, then said, ?Where are you staying??

?I?m not sure,? he admitted. ?I haven?t thought that far ahead.?

?But this is snow country. How could you travel here without knowing where you?ll stay??

?Do you think it was a bad idea??

She considered the question for a moment, which made Yasu smile, for he?d only been lightly baiting her. ?It was a little foolish, I?d say.? Her tone was matter-of-fact but gentle. ?Once the ski season starts, there won?t be any vacancies. You?ll have to go into the mountains and see if a temple will take you in. Otherwise you may have to return early to Tokyo.?

?I guess I don?t like to plan things in advance.?

She smiled at him. ?Lucky for you, my mother runs an inn. You can follow me there from the station.?

?Then I guess it?s decided.?

Their feet crunched over the icy roads and he watched the white clouds of her breath rise above her head, where they became indistinguishable against the snow and fog on the mountains. His duffel bag bounced up and down on her back as she walked in front of him.

Yasu slipped on a patch of ice but righted himself before falling. The woman turned around.

?I?ve never walked on ice before,? he said. ?It?s a little tricky.?

She pushed her muffler down from her face to say, ?You?ve never walked on ice??

?That?s why I?m walking so slowly.?

She slowed down for him, and then they walked together side by side.

?I?m Yasu, by the way.?

?Naomi.?

The rain had started again by the time they got to the inn, which was at the end of a narrow sloping street with the beginning of a forest behind it. The young woman tried to protect his bag from getting wet but there was little she could do, and she apologized again and again, even when he laughed and said it didn?t matter.

The three-story inn rose unobtrusively through a pocket of tall cedars. To one side there was a rock garden dotted with bonsai, while to the other side the land was open, allowing a view of fallow ricefields and, through the gray and foggy distance, the snowcapped mountains.

In the lobby of the inn she set Yasu?s bag down and went to pour him hot tea. When the bell on the front door quieted, he heard someone shuffling down the corridor toward them.

A pretty woman in a lavender kimono entered and bowed. ?Welcome,? she said. Her hair was slightly disheveled, as if she had arrived in the lobby after engaging in hard work, but somehow it made her more comely. Perhaps not expecting new guests, she appeared caught by surprise.

?I met him on the train, mother. He had no place to stay, so I brought him here. He?s a Nisei.?

She turned to him and blinked a few times. ?Does he speak Japanese??

Yasu answered for the girl. ?Yes, but I learned it in America.?

?Will you be staying a long time??

?I?m not sure. At least as long you?ll put up with me.?

?Oh, we put up with all kinds of people,? Naomi said cheerfully. ?Just because you?re Nisei doesn?t mean you can?t stay as long as you?d like.?

Yasu had not expected such a blunt response, but it only made him more curious about the girl.

The woman turned to her daughter. ?Why don?t you take him to his room and get him settled in??

She went back from where she?d come, and in a moment Naomi led Yasu to the second floor. She made so as to pick up his duffel bag but this time he stopped her.

?Normally our porter would take your bag to your room. But he died last week.? She said this casually, like the porter did this all the time.

?Unexpectedly??

?It was a double suicide. He and his lover threw themselves in the Shinano River. According to the newspapers, the woman was carrying his child.?

Yasu shivered. ?Did he leave behind a family??

?A wife and young son. I hear they?re moving to Tokyo where no one will know what happened.?

She led him down a corridor lit dimly by the gray afternoon light. Rain tapped the window that ran along the wall, and he imagined the slanting lines would become snow by morning, blanketing the ice that covered the streets they?d walked to get here.

At the end of the corridor she slid open a door and ushered him inside. He dropped his bag onto the tatami floor and stood in the frozen darkness. The musty smell of a long-shuttered space washed over him and he covered his nose. He slid open the shoji windows to let in what little daylight remained. In the distance, thick swirling clouds hooded the tops of forested mountains. In the crevices along the slopes, the earlier snow had not yet disappeared.

He surveyed the room, which was bare but for a low table and an inset wall decorated with a landscape scroll and vase of dried flowers.

?The smell goes away,? she said, opening the windows wider.

A cold, wet breeze batted Yasu?s face. Outside, the colors of the mountain trees were dark from rain. At the foot of the mountain a narrow river bulged with rain and meltwater. He wondered if that was where the pair had thrown themselves.

?It?s cold,? he said, stepping away from the window.

?There?s a hot bath downstairs. You should go warm up in it and relax.? She opened a closet and handed him a stiff yukata.

?Does your father also work here??

She shook her head. ?He died twenty years ago, a few months after I was born.?

?In Japan??

?No. In the Midway Islands, I think. We?re not exactly sure where or how he died.?

Yasu was going to tell her that his father had died in Manchuria during the war, and that his remains had never been found, but the sight of her mother standing in the doorway stopped him.

She entered the room with a tray holding a small teapot, a cup, and a neatly wrapped sweet. As she set it on the table, she asked what they had been talking about.

?He wanted to know if father worked here, too. I told him that he died in the war.?

She knelt before the table and poured out a cup of green tea. ?A simple ?no? would have sufficed. I?m sure he?s not interested in what happened to our family during the war.?

Yasu didn?t know what to say. Her tone was kind and he couldn?t perceive her words as a rebuke to her daughter, though Naomi, staring at the floor and holding her hands to her sides, appeared put out.

?I see you gave him his yukata already,? she went on. ?I?m sure he?d like to unwind from his trip.? She motioned for Naomi to leave his room. She followed her daughter, then stood in the vestibule for a moment, quietly observing him. ?I?m sorry if Naomi bothered you. She?s a good girl, but sometimes she doesn?t understand what other people need. She can be a little presumptuous.?

?It was no bother,? Yasu assured her.

She smiled apologetically and closed the door.

Yasu stepped naked from the washing area into the open-air bath, which looked like a small pond around which the inn had been built. Steam rose from the milky water and billowed in the wintry air. Surrounded by a circle of smooth rocks, the bath gave a sweeping view of the mountains.

With no one else around, he made his way freely around the bath?s perimeter, climbing onto the ledge and looking out over the autumnal landscape. The grays and greens between the inn and the mountain, whose forests were a rich red and gold, infused him with a feeling of melancholy he had never known in Hawaii. After so many years, his mother?s descriptions of the Japanese countryside were here before him, and for the first time since arriving in Japan he regretted that they had never experienced it together.

He lowered himself into the water, sat down, and drew his knees to his chest. The hot water relaxed him and he began to think more deeply about why he was here. Only a few hours ago, on a train creeping north into the Japanese Alps, he had thought how strange it was to finally see the surroundings of his father?s birthplace?endless rows of golden larches and dark pines, fog swirling through the treetops, and the occasional elderly person carrying kindling alongside the tracks. It felt bittersweet to travel through the last Japanese forest his father had ever seen before being shipped off to Manchuria twenty years ago, shortly before Pearl Harbor. He wanted to know what had passed through his father?s mind?what had occupied his thoughts then and afterward, in the few months he had left to live? His mother had told Yasu that the Imperial Army would never have delivered a message to them in Hawaii. His parents had surely received letters, for they were Japanese living in Japan. If they had, however, they never shared with them what he had written. Yasu had always found such a notion unbelievable?he was certain no one could be so selfish.

The cold, snowcapped mountains made him feel cut-off from the world, and sitting in the outdoor bath of the old inn was like being immersed in a distant, much earlier time.

Yasu stepped out of the water to the bathing area, where he filled a plastic basin with cold water and poured it over his head. As he stood facing a length of mirror, two old women, modest enough to hide their lower halves with their towels, entered the washing area and sat down with only a stool separating them from him. Immediately he covered himself with the basin. The old women acknowledged him with a quick bow, which he returned before looking away. Being quite sure that he?d entered a bath designated for men, he assumed that the old women had wandered into the wrong place. Rather than confront them over this, he retreated to the milky water and decided that perhaps the bath was not segregated by sex.

Inevitably the old women entered the bath where he sat, situating themselves across from him, separated by ten or twelve feet. After taking in the view, they turned their attention to him.

?Where did you arrive from, young man?? one of the women said.

?Tokyo,? he said. ?I met the owner?s daughter on the train and she brought me here.?

?You?re a little early for skiing, aren?t you? It snowed here a couple weeks ago, but it didn?t last.?

?It?s cold here. I?m not sure I?ll survive if it snows.?

?No region in Japan gets more snow than here. Not even Hokkaido.?

Their discussion stalled as a door slammed shut in the direction the two women had come from. A little girl?s voice rang out, followed by that of someone older.

?Is it okay for me to be here?? Yasu asked.

?What do you mean??

?You know, men and women together. Did I walk into the wrong bath??

The old women laughed. ?That?s how it is here. Men and women together, like in the old days. I guess Tokyo people have no imagination anymore.?

Yasu moved along the edge of the bath to where the water wasn?t quite so hot. By the time he?d settled into a comfortable spot a little girl was pulling a young woman into the bathing area. The young woman was Naomi.

Unlike the older women when they?d entered, Naomi left herself exposed, carrying her towel on her head as she followed the girl to a stool and spigot. Although she was petite, her body was clearly not a child?s. Her womanhood was apparently nothing she felt constrained to hide. As she glanced toward the bath and met Yasu?s gaze, she momentarily stopped walking. With the same unselfconscious manner she?d exhibited on the train, she smiled and dipped her head at him.

The girl pulled hard at Naomi?s hand and said, ?Sit down next to me. Over here, over here.?

Their bathing was loud. The girl demanded to be soaped and rinsed just so, and by the time she?d finished washing Naomi?s back there were red streaks in her skin where the girl had concentrated her scrubbing. The girl hurried toward the water, then stood on the top step, immersed already to her knees, calling Naomi to join her.

Through the swirling steam Yasu watched her walk with the same unselfconscious ease toward the bath.

Sitting down in the water, Naomi draped her wet bathing towel over her head. The white material, heavy with water, made her flushed face and neck appear a very bright pink. As Yasu was appreciating the contrast, the little girl snatched the towel off Naomi?s head and put it on her own. It soon slipped over her face, muffling her laughter, then plopped into the water. Lightly scolding the girl, Naomi picked up her towel and put it on her head once more. The disturbance caused water to ripple over her breasts.

?I didn?t realize you had a daughter,? Yasu said.

?Oh, I don?t.? Naomi laughed with the two older women at his remark. ?Her mother joined a group of tourists on a hike to a temple in the mountains. Kaori-chan is too young to enjoy it, so she stayed behind. Now that I?m back from Tokyo my mother asked me to take her for a bath.?

Yasu watched Naomi and the little girl play. The little girl climbed onto the rocks at one point, and Naomi rushed over to her and lifted her back into the water. ?That?s dangerous, Kaori-chan. You could get hurt if you slipped and fell.?

Again, there had been no sign of self-consciousness as Naomi rose to help the little girl, just as there had been none when she?d followed the girl into the bathing area. Was it the simplicity of a mountain upbringing that accounted for this, or was there something slightly wrong with her? The reaction of the older women told him nothing.

The old women hadn?t shown any sense of shyness, either, although they at least had shielded themselves beneath their waists with their bathing towels. Naomi had walked into the bathing area with her towel on her head and both hands reaching toward the child.

The little girl took all of Naomi?s attention, and when the husbands of the old women appeared from the changing area and joined them in the bath, Naomi didn?t seem to notice them or care that they were watching her.

The heat of the bath had long ago made Yasu feel lightheaded, and he left the water feeling unsteady. He refreshed himself by splashing cold water on his face and chest. On his way back to the changing room he glanced back at Naomi. She was wading through the bath to watch the rain splash against the rocks.

There was a rapping on the door as he was settling into his futon. He reached to switch on the lamp he?d just turned off, and without getting up he called for the person to come in. He expected to see Naomi, though it would be somewhat bold of her to come so late, but instead found himself watching her mother slide open his door and enter on her knees. She placed an orange object on the floor in front of her and bowed.

?I thought you might like a hot water bottle to sleep with,? she said. When he nodded, she stood and brought it over. ?The cold is terrible for people who aren?t from here.?

?The cold makes me feel alive.?

She placed the water bottle at the foot of his futon and sat on her knees for a moment without speaking. ?My daughter said that she met you on the train.?

?She sat next to me all the way from Tokyo.?

She smiled, continuing not to look at him. ?And that you hadn?t bothered to arrange for a place to stay.?

?It was probably foolish of me.?

?It does get busy here once the ski slopes open. But this is the calm before the storm. In two more weeks the town will get quite crowded.?

?I could be gone by then.?

She looked up at him. ?Don?t you ski??

?I don?t know how. And crowds make me feel claustrophobic.?

?If you?re not here to ski, why did you come??

Seeing that the hot water bottle was merely a pretense for her visit, he sat up and straightened the yukata he was wearing. She made no effort to hide her suspicion, or whatever it was that brought a sharpness to her tone and a hard set to her otherwise pretty face.

?I?m here to find my family. The war separated us and it?s only now that I?ve had the chance to come.?

?I?m sure it will be a happy occasion.?

?I?m not so sure.?

Surprise softened her face. ?Oh??

Yasu nodded and kept silent. The fact was he had no idea what his relationship was to these people, but even if they weren?t keen on having him around, he was sure they?d at least want to see him.

Before coming to Japan, Yasu felt conflicted over seeing his father?s family. Since boyhood he?d dreamed of visiting Japan, though his mother had opposed this while she was alive. ?Don?t go there,? she?d said. ?Maybe it?s inevitable that you?ll explore your family?s past, but our ties to Japan have been cut. Don?t go. You?re not wanted there.? He had obeyed her out of respect for her feelings?though in any case it would have been hard to come here considering what little money they had. She?d never forgiven Japan for seizing her husband during the war and sending him to Manchuria to die, just as she?d never forgiven his parents for not helping them when, with nowhere else to turn, she?d broken down and asked. Now that she was gone, however, his old dream had resurfaced.

Although he?d lived all his life in Hawaii, Yasu knew that at some point he wanted to test himself in the world. When his mother died, leaving him a house and sundries shop, he had sold everything with no other plan but to come here. It was enough for him to have money and time?two things he?d struggled for all his life?for together they enabled him to chase down what little he knew of his father. Returning to Hawaii was not in his plans; nor did he plan to stay in Japan. He didn?t blame people for calling him reckless, but life seemed too short to live it any other way. His father?s short existence was proof.

?Are they expecting you tomorrow?? the old woman asked.

He shrugged. ?I never told them I was coming.?

The look of surprise deepened on the woman?s face. ?What is the name of the family you?ve come to find??

?Shimamura,? he said, trying to think of something distinctive to tell her about them. Nothing came to mind. ?Do you know the name??

She leaned back slightly, and in the shifting light she might have paled a little. ?Of course,? she said. ?This is a small town.?

She kept her eyes on the floor as if considering whether or not to say more, but she stayed silent.

?Since I intend to stay here for some time, there?s probably no rush to visit them. I was going to try to find them today, but my bath and dinner convinced me to wait until tomorrow.?

He hadn?t said anything she needed to respond to, but her silence, her unbroken concentration on the floor between them, discomfited him.

For a moment something shined in her eyes, and he could imagine how attractive she must have been at her daughter?s age. Even now she could claim the attention of most men, yet something made him think she wasn?t interested in this. ?There was a time when I knew them. It was a long time ago, during the war. I haven?t had any dealings with them in almost fifteen years.?

From the silence there emerged a pattering of rain on the roof. Yasu looked off toward the closed window. For some reason he thought of the woman?s daughter?his memory of her at the bath entered his mind?and realized then that a woman might calm him.

?Where are you from in America?? she said. ?There aren?t many Japanese there, I?m sure.?

?I?m from Hawaii. There are many Japanese there, in fact. They came to Hawaii late last century to work in the plantations.? When the woman made no reply, Yasu decided it meant she wanted him to continue. ?My parents lived in Hawaii for nearly a decade, then my father received word that his own father was gravely ill and he came back to Japan to see him. When he was ready to return to Hawaii, he was arrested and forced into the Japanese army. In less than a week he was shipped off to Manchuria, where he died, apparently, two years later.?

He stopped when the woman abruptly stood and bowed. He thought he saw her trembling as she moved backwards toward the door. ?I?m sorry to have disturbed you before bed.?

?It?s quite all right,? he said, and watched her disappear into the corridor and shut his door.

He went over what he had told her, and wondered how his words could have made her upset. He hadn?t revealed anything untoward, and what he had told her was a bare minimum of the history of his family?s life. But why had he told her anything? His motivation, he decided, was to get her to tell him what she knew about his family, even if it had been fifteen years ago.

He turned off the lamp once again and burrowed into his futon. He quickly forgot about the hot water bottle, and he discovered it, still warm somehow, on the floor beside his feet when he awoke in the morning.