Summertime of the Dead (24 page)

‘You don't have to.'

‘I want to. I like the baby. And I don't mind taking the subway.'

‘That's great, because I think he's starting to like you too.'

Yoshe looked happy then. I suppose me taking the baby meant something more to her than missing a dental appointment; it showed that I looked at him as family, which I did.

She put the baby in his buggy and put on his baby baseball cap. He smiled then because he knew he was going out and he liked to go out. And he looked so cute in his cap.

Yoshe gave him a kiss. ‘You're going out with Uncle Yukio!'

‘Kio!' said the baby.

It was the first time he'd said my name!

‘Oh, before I forget,' said Yoshe, wheeling him outside. ‘The nun came by. She asked if you could call round and see her.'

‘I'll go on my way back,' I said, and headed off to the subway.

‘There's a bottle and wipes under the seat,' shouted Yoshe. ‘And don't let him get too much sun!'

‘I won't.'

I pushed the baby down to Yoyogi station and took the Chiyoda line over to Ginza. The baby didn't like being underground and he didn't like being on the train either. He started to look a little sour-faced and then he started to cry. And no matter how many people tried to please him, and there were plenty of them, he just wouldn't stop. But he was happy when we got back to street level. He liked the look of Hibiya Park, with its tall trees and tennis courts, and he liked the moat that ran around the Imperial Palace. If I'd had time I would have taken him to the toy section in one of the big department stores, but I didn't. And so I headed over to the
International Forum and cut through the convention centre.

It was a vast building with a glass roof shaped like the skeleton bones of a whale. The baby liked the roof and he shouted at it. Then he realized that his voice echoed and he shouted all the way to the end. And then, through the huge sheets of glass, I saw the Mitsubishi Building rising up between two other skyscrapers. I pushed the baby out into the sunshine and surveyed the area. The building stood on a broad street that ran down towards the Imperial Palace and up under a railway bridge. It was dark under the bridge, even in the daylight, and it wasn't until I headed towards it that I saw there were motorbikes underneath. And when I looked back I saw the Mitsubishi Building was no more than two hundred metres away. I could park the bike below the bridge and run back to it when the job was done. But this was going to be a difficult hit. This wasn't the docks or a backstreet in Shibuya. This was Ginza, a stone's throw from the Imperial Palace, and there were cops everywhere. Not only that, but there were hotels and expensive stores with security guards standing outside them. And there were cameras on every corner.

I pushed the buggy along the pedestrian path that ran between the stone wall of the bridge and the buildings. It was so narrow, and there were so many overhangs, it was like being in a tunnel. But it was my best chance of escape. It would take me over to the other side of Ginza, where I could merge with the heavy traffic. The only real problem was that there were bars and restaurants built into the arches of the bridge. I'd have to remember to ride slow in case anyone stepped out.

As I headed back towards the Mitsubishi Building the baby started to cry, for no reason, and so I bought him an ice cream. We pulled up outside Mitsubishi and I had a look around. There were square ponds and flower beds in front of the main entrance, and in the centre was a raised piece of ground with a garden on it. It looked like a small forest. There were half a dozen trees and plenty of bushes and smaller plants. If I climbed up on to the low wall I could hide in the foliage and shoot him from there. That way they couldn't even see where the shots were coming from. And it would be dark by then. Because he said he worked twelve hours a day, and when I was in the cafe it must have been about ten thirty. And so that was it. I sat by the
ponds, in front of the building, and turned the baby towards me. He was still trying to take the wrapper off his ice-cream.

‘Mikazuki!' he said, and gave me a dirty look. But when I took off the wrapper his face lit up. He held out both hands, and then he pushed it into his mouth. He was as happy as the Lump when he had something to eat.

I didn't like to think about the job then. It didn't seem right in front of the baby. But I have to admit that the thought of doing it excited me. But just then that clanging sound came back! I looked at the bridge but there was no train going by. It had to be in my head! I covered my ears and tried to get it to stop but it rang louder. I swear it was so upsetting it was driving me insane!

‘Are you OK?'

I looked up to see a middle-aged woman looking down at me. She looked concerned.

‘Just a headache,' I said, but I could feel my face cringing.

‘You're very young to be having headaches.'

‘It's gone now,' I said. And just as I said it, the ringing stopped.

‘Well, as long as you're feeling better.'

She smiled and walked away and I sat there feeling bad. I'd heard about people who had ringing in their ears, but this was ridiculous. I turned to the baby to make sure he wasn't upset. But you've never seen a happier kid.

‘You're very selfish, you know that?' But he didn't care. He just smiled as he ate his ice cream.

When the train stopped at Yoyogi I took the escalator to the top. I ran across the road, and cutting through the small park I pushed the buggy up the hill. When I entered the grounds of the shrine I saw Natsuko sitting in the shade of a tree. She even had the tea ready as though she was expecting me. But she was staring down at the ground like she was worried. And she was startled when she saw me.

‘Yukio! You caught me daydreaming. Please, have a seat.'

I bowed before taking a seat and she poured me some tea. The worry lines left her forehead when she saw the baby and she smiled. ‘Oh, he's such an angel!' She seemed to relax then and she sat back.

‘Yoshe said you wanted to see me.'

‘Yes, we're moving into the temple next week.
The work's almost finished. Can we call on you to help?'

‘Of course. I'm not back at school for a few weeks.'

We were quiet then and I felt a little uncomfortable. It was like we couldn't think of anything to say. I mean, I'd known Natsuko for years, but every time we'd had tea together the twins were with us, and I was sure she was thinking about them. The worry lines returned to her forehead. She went to speak, but she hesitated and reached for her tea. Then she looked more determined and put the cup down. ‘I really wanted to talk to you about the twins. Is that OK?'

‘Of course,' I said.

‘A Detective Maki came to see me a while back.'

Just to hear his name was like an unexpected body blow.

‘I didn't mention it because I didn't want to upset you. He asked me if I knew why the twins did what they did, and I said no. Then he asked me about you. I said that you were a kind and decent young man.' She blushed a little. ‘I even told him that I would trust you with my life. He seemed satisfied with that and he went away. I thought he was investigating
the twins' death. But just the other day the head priest told me that he was a homicide detective investigating the Psycho Killer murders. Have you heard about them?'

‘Yes, I've heard something.'

Natsuko frowned. ‘I don't understand why he was asking me about you and the twins. I can't see any connection between their deaths and those murders. Not unless this Psycho Killer was in some way responsible. But the twins never mixed with any bad characters. They had few friends besides you. Yukio, is there anything you can tell me about their deaths?' Her face filled with pain. ‘Because they were always the happiest of children!'

All of a sudden I felt bad. ‘I don't know anything,' I said. But I looked away.

Natsuko sensed something and sat forward. And she had those large eyes that you couldn't get away from. ‘I understand, Yukio,' she said in a delicate way, ‘but I think something bad must have happened to the twins to make them do what they did. And somebody must be responsible. Maybe this Psycho Killer is to blame. And that's why the detective came to see me. Yukio … do you know who he is?'

Suddenly I had this urge to confess.

She came closer. ‘Yukio, you're like a brother to me. If you know who he is, you can tell me!'

I almost broke, I really did. But then I felt a coldness towards her.

‘I don't know anything, Natsuko. And I have to get the baby home.'

I stood up and taking the buggy I pushed him away. Then I realized what an idiot I'd been. I'd spoken to her in a harsh tone and I'd never done that before. I turned quickly and smiled. ‘Just let me know when you're moving. I'll be glad to help.' But my voice sounded phoney even to me.

‘I will,' she said, and raised her hand in farewell.

I was seething as I pushed the buggy back down the hill! What an idiot I was! All I'd had to do was stay calm and everything would have been fine. But I panicked and then I got angry. And what was that look on her face as she waved goodbye? She was hurt … Yes, that was it. She must have been hurt because of the way I spoke to her … But there was something else in that look. What it was I did not know.

All the way home I kept seeing her face as she waved goodbye. I replayed that image in my mind until I worked out what that look was. It was a look
of horror. I understood then that I'd finally given myself away. Natsuko knew. And what would she do now? I imagined her calling the police. And my mind filled with hate. But I could never harm Natsuko. Not really.

I watched an ant crawl up the trunk of a tree. I don't ever remember seeing an ant at night before, but it wasn't quite night, not yet. Through the treetops I could see that the sky was still blue and that the moon was just starting to become visible. I brushed the ant off the tree and it fell to the ground where it really was dark. I didn't want to think about the ant. The ant reminded me of the Lump, and if I thought about the Lump I couldn't do what I had to do. And that was going to be hard enough. I didn't want to do it, I really didn't. But there I was standing in the shadows with the sword.

After a while a few stars appeared and the moon became bright. The sky was still pale but, because of the tall trees, the shrine grounds were almost dark.
Dark enough anyway. I made my way under the Shinto gate and walked as quietly as I could along the stone path. But I froze when I heard voices. They were coming from the street below, but I waited for them to fade away before moving on. I passed the temple and headed to the house where the nuns lived, but something caught my eye. Through the temple doors I saw candles burning and a silhouette kneeling at the altar. I looked around, to make sure that no one was there, and then kicking off my sneakers I slipped inside.

I moved silently towards a pillar and stood behind it. Then I peered around the side to see Natsuko. I couldn't see her face, because she had her back to me, but I could hear her quick, desperate whispers. What she was praying for I don't know, but she sounded confused, and she must have been. She was a Buddhist nun praying in a Shinto Temple. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her, but I didn't want to feel sorry for her! ‘Be strong, Yukio! Kill her quick!' I took the sword in my right hand and stepped out from behind the pillar. If she turned around now she'd see me, but she didn't. And so moving in slow motion I put one foot in front of the other. But my foot creaked on a floorboard. Suddenly her head
rose. ‘Yukio, is that you?' she asked. But she never turned around.

How could she know? Part of me wanted to run, but I kept moving towards her. Then I saw the side of her face in the candlelight. She looked distraught.

‘Have you come for me?' Her voice was quivering and her head went down. ‘I don't understand … anything! The twins are dead and you have become what killed them!'

I took the sword in both hands and raised it like a dagger. But she turned and looked up at me. ‘My beautiful Yukio!'

I froze with sorrow and shame. Then I stabbed her. I pushed the sword down into her good heart and then I pulled it out. She fell back on to the wooden floor and looked up at me. ‘Yukio,' she whispered.

She wouldn't have felt much pain. I probably felt more pain killing her. And the shame was still to come. But I'd had to do it. It wasn't that I was scared of being caught or going to prison. But what I was doing was more important than what she did, whatever that was. Make tea, and be nice, and give off warmth. It was nothing really. I mean, I'm not saying I didn't enjoy her warmth; I did. But being
nice never changed anything. It didn't save the twins. And it didn't punish the people who hurt them. Besides, I felt that there was a part of her that wanted me to do it. She was too delicate for this world.

I knelt beside her, and taking her hand I held it. I waited with her until she passed, and then closing her eyes I touched her beautiful face. I'd always wanted to touch it. I even thought about kissing her on the forehead, but that would have been disrespectful.

‘You're with the twins now, Natsuko. They'll look after you.'

I went to the temple doors and checked the grounds. Then I turned and bowed to Natsuko's body before stepping outside. I put on my sneakers, retied the laces and walked down the slope to the bike.

I felt miserable as I rode to Ginza. But I thought about what I'd said and I hoped it was true. I hoped she was with the twins and I hoped she was happy. She always taught us that death was nothing to be afraid of because, as Buddhists, we're reborn again. And if that was the case then it makes no difference when we die. And so it makes no difference that I killed her. I wasn't just saying that because I felt bad.
I was saying it because I believed it was true. But I had to put Natsuko out of my mind now. Otherwise I'd end up dead myself.