Authors: Sujata Massey
The Pearl Diver (23 page)
There was one more letter.
Dear Atsuko,
I hope that you are well. As you know, things are becoming more difficult. I am looking for the answer to how I shall continue. It is clearly too dangerous here. I spoke to Robert about all of us leaving for some other place, but he said that would be against the law—he must stay and finish his duty. I told him then that he must report the men, but he said that it would be worse for all of us if he did that.
I have thought of simply traveling home to Japan, but I cannot obtain a passport for Akiko without my husband’s signature. I know he won’t let her go, no matter how tiring he finds having a child. I think, too, that since you have not written back to me, it would be best for me to stay away. You are on my side, I know, but it would ruin your prospects if your elder sister appeared again with a half-American baby and no husband. I don’t know if three years is enough time for everyone to forget about me, but I hope that is the case.
Three years since the wedding. It seems like it happened last month. I think about it, that day so full of hope. But even then, there were signs. Before the ceremony, the judge said he wanted to meet with me alone. During my meeting he said to me that I could change my mind if I wanted to, that there might be a way for me to stay in America without having to marry. I realized then that he thought I was marrying Robert because I wanted America, not the man. I replied that I was fine, that I wanted to marry. I thought he looked very serious, maybe displeased with me. Afterward, Robert told me that until recently it was against the law for black and white people to marry. I’m not white, I said to Robert. In the eyes of the law, he said, you are not black, and that is all that counts. But it’s not true, of course. I have lost my strength here. I still cannot speak English well. I still cannot drive. My world is this apartment. This child. And now, these men.
I asked Robert about the men, and at last he told me the truth about why they come. He cried afterward and said that he thought I would hate him. No, I told him, I could not hate you. You did what you were told to do. After our talk, he slept well—better than he’d slept since Akiko was born. But I could not sleep. Now that I know the situation, I finally understand that the danger will always be around us.
I would like to eat
fugu,
but I want to live. The next time I write to you, I hope that I will be able to say that I’ve made the right choice.
The last few lines disturbed me. Why was she thinking about eating blowfish, which had a toxin inside its pancreas so deadly that even a trace amount could kill? Was the danger she talked about so overwhelming she was considering suicide by eating blowfish?
“I don’t understand why she was talking about
fugu
like that,” I said. “I’m sure there was no blowfish available in American restaurants in the seventies. I can’t think of a place where it’s available now, even Bento. Jiro told me he doesn’t have any supplier who can bring the restaurant really fresh blowfish, and he doesn’t trust any of the cooks to prepare it safely.”
“‘I would like to eat
fugu
, but I want to live’ is a proverb, actually,” Norie began.
“I should have known.” I looked at the proverb queen.
“Yes, Rei-chan. It is something people say when they have trouble making a decision. Is it worth it to eat blowfish, which is so delicious—or not to eat the fish and know that you have avoided risking death?”
“‘Should I stay or should I go.’” Just like the words to the famous Clash song that Hugh loved. “Look at the postmark on the envelope.”
Norie took it in her hands. “June tenth, 1976. Is that a significant date?”
“No, it’s October sixth,” I corrected her. Japanese and Americans wrote out dates differently. “She disappeared on October tenth,” I said. “This might have been the last letter.”
The last letter. And in my mind, it seemed clear that she felt under threat, and was searching about for an escape plan, but one that was supposed to include Andrea.
Even after Norie and I put the letters away and went to bed, I spent most of the night trying to think the way I imagined Sadako had, all those years ago, as she looked for a place to go. Would she have hidden out nearby? No, I decided. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between her and the men she feared. She couldn’t return to Japan, as did other friends whose marriages had dissolved, because she had her daughter and no passport for her. Kansas, where one of her friends had gone, was a possibility. But if she couldn’t return to Japan because she didn’t want to abandon her daughter, why would she go to another place in America without her?
It seemed as if morning would never come, but eventually, I must have fallen asleep because I woke to find Hugh, lying like a fallen redwood, on the far side of the bed. He must have come in after three o’clock, when I’d finally turned in. Now everything that had happened came back: his ultimatum, and my refusal to submit. I cast one last look at him and got out of bed.
I would start looking for my own living space, maybe a place like Andrea had. I was no stranger to shabby neighborhoods. The difference was, in Japan you could find inexpensive neighbor
hoods that weren’t full of drugs. If I stayed in any major American city, I’d have to coexist with drug users, find a way to live with them in peace. But I’d never be able to have my parents visit, let alone Aunt Norie.
I turned the shower on high, trying to pound away the revulsion I felt. Before I found a place, I needed money. I’d submitted my bills to Marshall, but had not gotten any payment yet. He’d said something about money becoming available after the restaurant had opened. I hadn’t pressed him, but now I realized that I had to do that, just as Andrea would have to press Detective Burns about the theft of Sadako’s papers.
I was anxious to talk to Andrea about what I’d learned from Sadako’s letters. I had written down David’s telephone number the night before, but nobody picked up when I dialed it. Maybe they’d gone out for breakfast, or she was over at her apartment, waiting for the police.
After breakfast, I worked on making a more clear-sounding English translation of the letters, searching for any meaning that I might have missed. The marriage was unhappy, but there was nothing spelled out about Robert Norton being a violent man. It sounded as if the men from his past were the suspicious ones. Maybe they were in a gang that Robert had tried to get out of, or they were blackmailing him. Sadako could have been killed as a warning to him not to get out of line again. If that was the case, he might not report it to the police, out of fear for himself and his baby.
I also wondered about the abrupt end to the letters. I had her sister’s name and address. Maybe there were no more letters because she had returned, not because she’d died or moved.
I knew now that we had to find Atsuko, the sister she had written to thirty years earlier. The letters had all been returned from the address in a village called Okita. I wondered if it was on one of the small islands that surrounded Ky
sh. I couldn’t find it on a map of the main island.
I was just starting a Google search for it when the telephone
trilled. I jumped. I picked it up, hoping for Andrea, but heard Kendall’s voice instead.
“I hear you’re out and about again, honey. Good for you!”
“You must have heard that I was at the restaurant yesterday,” I said.
“Actually, Win saw you walking on P Street with your arms full of clothes. Did you find a good dry cleaner in that area, someone I should know about?”
“Hardly. What was Win doing there?” If Win had been driving by when Hugh, Andrea, and I had been bent under the weight of her formidable wardrobe, why hadn’t he pulled over to offer some help—or at least say hello?
“Oh, I’m sure he was checking out some real estate. That area is so up-and-coming it’s unbelievable.”
“I was helping my friend Andrea.”
“Who?”
“She used to be the hostess at Bento, but right now she’s working in the kitchen.” I was surprised by my vagueness. I was becoming protective of Andrea.
“If she’s the bitch who didn’t want to give my kids high chairs, I think you’ve got lousy taste. What does Hugh think of your new friend?”
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks.”
“Oops. Sorry, honey. Do you have time to get together for lunch today?”
“Could we do it tomorrow? I have to stop in at the restaurant today—”
“If you have to be at the restaurant, why don’t I meet you there? You’ve probably heard that Marshall and I have settled our differences and I’m on a mission to try out the whole menu before the Snowden dinner.”
“Bento is a little bit rich for my taste right now,” I said.
“Don’t you have a discount on meals there?”
“Yes, but I haven’t even been paid for my services yet, so I’m feeling rather poor,” I said.
“Actually, I’m feeling broke, too. What should we do, get a hot dog from a cart? Remember how we always wanted to get them when we were kids, but Grand said no because it was low class to eat on the street? But the times we got them, when she didn’t know, they were so good.”
I smiled at the memory of those foot-long hot dogs eaten at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor back in my preadolescent, prevegetarian days.
“What about a real Chinatown restaurant?” I suggested.
“All the oil and rice!” Kendall groaned.
“Let’s go to a Burmese restaurant, then. You can have a green-tea-leaf salad.” I’d been offended, and I wanted to get my way on at least one thing.
We agreed on Burma and made plans to meet at one.
After my conversation with Kendall, I went to Aunt Norie, in the kitchen. She had finished all the ironing and had now moved on to crocheting something tiny, out of blue yarn.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing.” She folded it back into her sewing bag.
“It looks like a doll jacket,” I said.
“It’s sort of like that, yes,” Norie said. “Now, if you have any holes in your socks, I can darn them for you—”
“Don’t distract me. You’re making doll clothes for a Jizo-sama, aren’t you?” I stared at my aunt.
“It’s a coat, actually,” she said. “I’m going to make a little hat as well.”
“You must have guessed because we’re sharing a bedroom.” After I’d come home from the hospital, I’d been too weary to resume the charade of sleeping apart from Hugh. Besides, we weren’t having sex anymore—there was nothing going on to which an older relative might object.
“It’s his apartment, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t you share?”
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable—”
“I always suspected. But more important, I see that your belly
aches. I can see by the way you touch it, the way you move. I am a Japanese, it is true. In our country, people don’t live together before marriage, but still, many fall in love and conceive babies unexpectedly. At least we have a civilized way to mourn the babies we lose. Your child deserves that.”
I bowed my head. “I feel so terrible about it.”
“I understand. You will feel desolate for a long time. But when you see your Jizo-sama statue at peace in the temple near my house, you will begin to stop hurting.”
She must have forgotten that I was banned from the country. I said, “I’ll never see it.”
“I’ll send you a digital photograph. I’ll be able to get the statue for you very soon since I hope to go home this week.”
“Just to dress a statue?”
“Not just for that reason. I’ve been thinking about Sadako’s letters, Rei-chan. We must speak to the sister, this Atsuko. You cannot do it because the government won’t let you enter. Andrea cannot do it because she speaks no Japanese. As you know, my current plane ticket is open return. I’ll fly back to Yokohama and pick up Hiroshi before going on to Kysh. I already called him last night. He’s in agreement that he needs a spring holiday for a change.”
“It’s a great effort for you to undertake. It’s really something the Japanese police should handle, don’t you think?”
“They didn’t succeed before, and they won’t this time, either,” Norie said briskly. “A woman-to-woman conversation is needed. Besides, Hiroshi and I have not been to Kysh. We shall visit the ceramics villages and bring home some lovely new
ikebana
containers for my hobby.”
“I suppose that the sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back.” A few weeks ago, I was frightened by the thought of putting Norie up for an endless amount of time. But now I had grown so used to her presence that I couldn’t stand the thought of her going.