The Graveyard Apartment (32 page)

“I still can't fathom it,” Teppei muttered, turning over onto his back and scowling up at the ceiling. “I simply don't believe some of the things we've experienced, even though I saw them with my own eyes.”

“If only it really had just been a bad dream. Then we could have woken up the next morning and said, ‘Oh, thank goodness.' That kind of thing used to happen to me a lot in the old days. You know, I'd be in the throes of some really dire nightmare and I would cry out in my sleep, and then when my eyes finally popped open it would be such an incredible relief to find myself lying in my own bed, with the morning sunlight streaming in through an open window. Even after we got together, that happened quite a few times. Then I would wake up and see you sleeping next to me, and I'd be flooded with infinite happiness. I can't even describe how happy I felt.”

“Yes, but the nightmarish things we've encountered here really did take place. They weren't dreams, at all,” Teppei said soberly.

“No, of course you're right.” Misao nodded. After a long moment of silence she and Teppei both smiled, more or less in unison.

“Anyway, the bottom line is that tomorrow we'll be embarking on a new chapter of our lives. The best thing is just to focus on that now, and put the past behind us,” Teppei said.

“I couldn't agree more. Oh, by the way, are you going to take a bath with Tamao tonight?”

“Yes, that's the plan. It's just that lately whenever we bathe together she's been looking at my … uh, appendage, and making comments.”

“What sort of comments?”

“Oh, just things like ‘Hey, look, Papa has a little banana hanging down!'”

“And what did you say in reply?” Misao asked, giggling softly.

“Hey, give me a break,” Teppei protested, but he was chuckling, too. “I mean, what could I say? I just blushed like a schoolboy and looked down at the bathwater.”

Misao giggled again, more loudly this time, then gave Teppei's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I don't suppose you could have tried to pretend that her eyes were playing tricks on her, and passed it off as an optical illusion?”

“Let's face it, Tamao is always going to be one step ahead of her poor old parents. She's really going to be a handful, mark my words.” They both started laughing, and the conversation ended with an agreement that after the move they should probably make an effort to provide their precocious little daughter with some preliminary sex education, or at least an anatomy lesson.

Tatsuji and Naomi emerged from the bathroom, and Teppei and Tamao went in to take their turn. Misao, meanwhile, busied herself with packing up the assorted knickknacks and other small items in the master bedroom. The wooden memorial tablet for Teppei's first wife, Reiko, was in a small Buddhist altar that they had ended up hiding away in the closet. Misao took out the tablet, swathed it tightly in several layers of cloth, and laid it on the bottom of an overnight bag that she planned to hand-carry to the new house.

After she placed the tablet in the bag, Misao got the unmistakable feeling that it was moving, ever so slightly. When she picked the tablet up again she saw that the cloth covering it was partially unfurled and the front of the tablet, which bore Reiko's posthumous Buddhist name, was clearly visible. Misao felt frightened for a moment, but she assured herself that it was nothing. There had to be a rational explanation for why the cloth had come unrolled, even though she had taken pains to make sure the tablet was snugly wrapped.

In any case
, she thought,
beginning tomorrow we can say good-bye to this ridiculously edgy mental state we've been in, where we freak out every time anything a tiny bit unusual happens.
Because of all the recent chaos, Misao had been obliged to cancel her freelance-illustration assignments, and she needed to try to reschedule them as soon as possible. It seemed that no matter how much money she and Teppei brought in, it was never enough, and now they were going to be maintaining two residences: paying the mortgage here until this apartment sold, along with the monthly rent on the new place. Oh well, they would just have to hunker down and make it work somehow.

Tatsuji stuck his head in the bedroom door. “Hi there,” he said, almost shyly. “Would it be okay if I helped myself to a beer?”

“Please, have as many as you like. Or rather, have as many as you can drink without giving yourself a hangover! We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Don't worry, I'm well aware of the early wake-up call.”

“Seriously, though, Tatsuji, I'm sorry you had to get dragged into this.”

“No, it's totally fine,” Tatsuji said with a laugh. “It feels like we're having a slumber party with the whole family and it's really kind of fun, for a change.”

The two in-laws smiled at each other, and then they said good night.

 

18

July 26, 1987

After a night filled with surreal dreams, Misao awakened with the feeling that she hadn't had a single minute of solidly restorative sleep. Painfully aware of her physical and mental weariness, she threw off the quilt and struggled into a sitting position.

It was half past seven. The moving truck was scheduled to arrive around ten, so there was no time to spare. Misao reached out and shook the broad back of her husband, who lay beside her, completely still.
Sleeping the sleep of the dead
, she thought. “Honey, wake up,” she said. “We need to get up right now.”

Teppei opened his eyes a crack and looked at Misao with a sullen expression. Then, as if to say, “I'm in a bad mood, but it has nothing to do with you,” he silently turned over and flung one arm around her waist.

Just then, Tamao's eyes suddenly popped open. (She'd begun the night sandwiched between her parents, but had gradually migrated to the bottom of the bed.) “Good morning, sleepyhead!” Misao said. Tamao didn't reply. She looked as though she hadn't slept a wink all night, and Misao figured she was probably keyed up about the move.

“Come on, people, time to rise and shine,” Misao ordered. “There's still quite a bit to do.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Teppei mumbled sleepily. “Have you checked the weather?”

Looking at the light streaming in through the curtains, Misao replied, “It looks like a beautiful day—it's clear again, even though we're still in the summer rainy season. It's probably going to be another scorcher, too. All right, Tamao, you need to get up now. Run and get dressed and wash your face, okay?”

They had left the air conditioner running on a low setting overnight, so the room was still pleasantly cool. Misao climbed out of bed and quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Even that small amount of movement caused her to break out in a light sweat. Yes, it was definitely going to be another hot one.

Abruptly, Tamao sat bolt upright, like a jack-in-the-box leaping out of its container. “Mama?” she said.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“Is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?” Misao asked, giving her head a quizzical tilt. “Of course, everything's fine. It's just going to be a very busy day, that's all.”

Teppei had clambered out of bed, and now he stood in his unbuttoned pajama top looking at his wife and daughter. Nothing moved except his eyes, which were now fully open. “Tamao, did you sleep well last night?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” Tamao nodded.

“Really? Are you sure Mama and Papa didn't keep you awake with all our tossing and turning?”

“Well,
I
think little Miss Tamao looks exceptionally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today,” Misao said with a chuckle, even though there was nothing amusing about what she'd said. She went up to Tamao and tenderly lifted the ringlets from her daughter's damp forehead, then checked for signs of fever.

“What's the matter, Tamao?” she asked. “What did you mean just now when you asked whether everything was okay?”

“I don't know,” Tamao said. “I just feel afraid, somehow.”

“Afraid of what?”

Tamao's only response was to twist her rosy lips into a pout, scrunch up her eyes, and shake her head violently from side to side.

“What are you afraid of, sweetie?” Misao asked again. “Won't you tell Mama and Papa, please?”

Tamao's face crumpled as if she were fighting back tears. She picked up her teddy bear and hugged it close to her chest, but she didn't say a word.

Misao traded a look of concern with Teppei, who now appeared to be fully awake. He conjured up an awkward-sounding laugh, then put his arm around his daughter's shoulders. “You probably just had a bad dream,” he said. Tamao gazed solemnly at her father, then said, “No, I didn't have any dreams at all. I just feel scared.”

A chill traveled up Misao's spine, but she made an effort to chase away the feeling of uneasiness that threatened to engulf her. After all, she explained to Tamao in a soft, soothing voice, there was no way anything bad could happen on a brilliantly sunny day like this. Today was their moving day, and in just a few hours the truck would be coming to transport their worldly goods to the new house, while they followed in Uncle Tatsuji's car. It was going to be a very busy day for everyone, but it would be great fun, as well. Yet even as she was reassuring her daughter, Misao had the feeling that she was also trying to convince herself, and she suddenly felt cold again.

Teppei crossed the room and opened the curtains, allowing the dazzling morning sunlight to stream in through the bay windows. Cookie had evidently heard the family stirring, and was sniffing around outside the closed door. On the surface it seemed to be a morning just like any other, but it was actually a rather momentous occasion. Today was the day they would begin the next chapter of their lives by moving to a marvelous new place, and that was a major reason for celebration.

After repeating these positive sentiments to Tamao once more, for good measure, Misao said, “Ummm,” drawing out the consonant while she collected her thoughts. “Let's see. Cookie's going to be hungry, so you need to get up and change out of your jammies and then go fix her breakfast.”

Tossing aside her beloved teddy bear as if she had suddenly lost interest in him, Tamao hopped out of bed. “Let's go quickly, Mama,” she said.

“Where to?”

“You know—to the new house.”

“Oh, of course,” Misao smiled. “Yes, we'll be leaving very soon.”

Misao washed her face and went into the kitchen to put the coffee on just as Tatsuji and Naomi meandered into the living room. Naomi was dressed in a figure-hugging pair of white cotton slacks and a low-necked shirt in a gaudy print, with the shirttails casually knotted at her waist.

“Did you get enough sleep, Naomi?” Misao asked.

“Yes, thanks, I slept like a rock. It was nice and cool, all night long.”

Tatsuji switched on the transistor radio. On one of the FM stations a perky-voiced woman was talking about a new department store that would be having its grand opening starting at ten o'clock that morning.

“Today's special activities will include a dog parade on the roof of the store,” the woman announced. “There will be everything from St. Bernards to Afghan hounds and Akitas, and of course they'll have plenty of cute little terriers, Pomeranians, and Chihuahuas, too, all strutting their stuff. Please stop by and bring the whole family. There will also be a big showroom filled with puppies that you can buy, or just admire…”

Naomi joined Tatsuji and began playfully spinning the radio dial. A cacophonous jumble of sounds cascaded from the speakers—music, news, commercials, DJs' voices—and the overall effect was as if a tape recording were being played back at twice the normal speed. “Hey, stop it,” Tatsuji said, laughing. “What do you think you're doing, you silly goose?”

“Ha, ha,” Naomi brayed, opening her mouth and showing all her perfect teeth. “Come on, let's watch TV instead,” she urged, switching off the radio. “Today's Sunday, so
Wide World of Travel
should be on right about now. Misao, would it be all right if we turned on the TV?”

“Please, go ahead,” Misao said. She was thinking,
It would be nice if you had asked whether there was anything you could do to help with breakfast,
although she knew better than to put her critical thoughts into words. Of course, she could simply have requested some assistance outright, but she didn't feel comfortable with the direct approach.

“Hey, the mistress of our house likes foreign travel,” Tatsuji said with an apologetic shrug. “She says I never take her anywhere exciting, and lately we've been on a steady diet of travel shows. I mean, it doesn't cost anything to watch those shows, so it's fine with me, but I suspect she's on the verge of trying to twist my arm into actually going somewhere, and that could be a problem.”

Naomi, meanwhile, had moseyed over to the television and turned it on. After a moment she let out a little squeal of surprise and then said crossly, “What's with this TV set, anyway? There's no picture.”

“You're right,” Tatsuji said. “Maybe the antenna's broken. Um, Sis?”

“The antenna isn't broken,” Misao said, peering across the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room while she continued inserting slices of ham between pieces of toasted white bread. Crackling noises emanated from the TV set, and the screen was covered with a dense pattern of diagonal lines. Without saying a word, Misao went over and tried switching from channel to channel, but she found only static.

“This is certainly odd,” Misao said, looking at Tatsuji. “We haven't touched the plug or the hookups or anything. We were planning to let the movers take care of that.”

Tatsuji shifted the TV set into a different position, then checked to make sure the indoor antenna was properly attached to the back. “It must be broken,” Naomi said. She sounded disappointed. “I guess it suddenly broke, just now.”