‘Fusagi!’ Nagare called his name rather than chanting the customer greeting of Hello! Welcome!
Fusagi first looked a bit confused, but then gave a small nod in reply and went to sit down at his usual seat, at the table closest to the entrance. Kohtake, with her hands behind her back, strolled up close to him.
‘Hello, darling!’ she said with a smile. She no longer called him Fusagi like she had used to.
‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’
‘I’m your wife, my love.’
‘Wife? . . . My wife?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is a joke . . . Right?’
‘No. I really am your wife!’
Without hesitation, she slipped into the seat facing him. Not sure how to react to this unknown woman behaving in such a familiar manner, he looked troubled.
‘Er, I would prefer it if you didn’t take the liberty of sitting there.’
‘Oh, it’s perfectly fine that I sit here . . . I’m your wife.’
‘Um, it’s not fine with me. I don’t know you.’
‘Well then, you’ll have to get to know me. Let’s start now.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘Well, I guess it’s a marriage proposal?’
While he was gaping at this woman in front of him, she sat there smiling. Visibly distressed, he sought the help of Kazu, who had come to serve him a glass of water.
‘Um. Please could you do something about this woman?’
If you were a stranger taking a quick glance, you might see a couple in a good mood. But if you looked harder at Fusagi, you would see the face of a man in distress.
‘He looks a bit upset,’ Kazu said, offering him her support with a smile.
‘Is he? . . . Oh well.’
‘Maybe it’s best to leave it at that for today?’ Nagare said from behind the counter, offering a lifeboat.
Similar conversations had played out between the couple on several occasions. Some days, when Kohtake told Fusagi that she was his wife, he would refuse to believe it. But oddly on other days it was different. There would be times when he would say, ‘Oh? Really?’ and accept it. Just two days earlier, she had sat opposite him and they had had what seemed to be an enjoyable conversation.
During such conversations they mainly talked about their memories of travel. Fusagi enjoyed telling her about how he had travelled here, or where he had visited there. She would look at him with a smile and add, ‘I went there too,’ and both of them would become engrossed in the conversation. She had come to enjoy this kind of casual exchange.
‘I guess so. I’ll pick up the conversation when we get home,’ she said and went back to sitting at the counter, resigned to leaving it at that for now.
‘But you seem happy with things,’ Nagare observed.
‘Oh, I suppose.’
Despite the cool temperature of the cafe, Fusagi continued to wipe the sweat forming in beads on his face.
‘Coffee, please,’ he ordered as he removed the travel magazine from his shoulder bag and spread it out on the table.
‘OK,’ Kazu said with a smile, and disappeared into the kitchen. Fumiko once again began to stare at the woman in the dress. Kohtake was leaning forward with her cheeks resting on her hands and looking at Fusagi, who was looking down at the magazine, oblivious to the fact that he was being watched. Nagare, while watching these two, began to grind coffee using a retro-looking coffee mill. The woman in the dress, as always, continued to read her novel. As the aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the cafe, Kei appeared from the back room. The sight of her made Nagare stop.
‘Good grief!’ Kohtake said when she saw Kei’s complexion. She looked very pale, almost bluish, and she was walking as if she might faint.
‘Are you OK?’ Nagare asked brusquely, clearly horrified as the blood seemed to have drained from his face too.
‘Oh dear, sis, I think you’d better rest today,’ Kazu called out from the kitchen.
‘No, I’m OK. I’m fine,’ Kei said, trying her hardest to look better, but she couldn’t hide how unwell she was.
‘You don’t look like you’re feeling too good today,’ Kohtake said, standing up from her counter seat while assessing Kei’s condition. ‘You should be resting, don’t you think?’
But Kei shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine. Really,’ she insisted, making a peace sign with her fingers.
But it was plain to see that she wasn’t.
Kei was born with a weak heart. Ordered by doctors not to take part in intense physical activity, she was never able to take part in things like sports days when she was at school. Nevertheless, she was naturally sociable and free-spirited – an expert at enjoying life. This was one of ‘Kei’s talents for living happily’, as Hirai would say.
If I am unable to do vigorous exercise, that’s OK – I won’t do vigorous exercise. That is how she thought.
Rather than just sitting out the races on sports days, she would get one of the boys to push her in a wheelchair. Of course they never had a chance of winning, but they gave it their all and always seemed to be bitterly disappointed when they lost. In dance class, she would make slow movements, in complete contrast to the swinging and shaking the others were doing. Doing things differently from everyone else would normally antagonize those making sure no one went against the grain, but no one ever thought that way with Kei. She was always everyone’s friend; she had that sort of effect on people.
But irrespective of her strength of will or character, Kei’s heart often seemed to deteriorate. Although never for very long, Kei was often pulled out of school and hospitalized for treatment. It was in hospital, in fact, that she met Nagare.
She was seventeen years old and in her second year of senior high school. While in hospital, she was confined to bed, so she got her enjoyment from the conversations she had with her visitors and the nurses who came into her room. She also enjoyed staring out at the outside world beyond her window. One day, while looking out the window, she saw in the hospital garden a man who was fully wrapped in bandages from head to toe.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Not only was he entirely wrapped in bandages, but he was also so much bigger than everyone else. When a schoolgirl walked in front of him she appeared tiny by comparison. It was perhaps rude to do so, but Kei called him the mummy man and she could watch him all day without getting bored.
A nurse told her that the mummy man had been hospitalized after a traffic accident. He had been crossing the road at an intersection when there was a minor collision between a car and a truck just before his eyes. He luckily escaped the collision but the side of the truck dragged him about twenty metres and threw him into a shop window. The actual car crash was minor and the people in the car weren’t injured. The truck, however, had driven up onto the kerb and toppled over. There were no other bystanders hurt. If the same thing had happened to someone of normal build, it could have meant sudden death, but the large man soon picked himself up as if nothing had happened. Of course, that was far from true, and he was a bloody mess, bleeding everywhere. But despite his condition, he stumbled to the overturned truck and called out, ‘You OK?’ Petrol was leaking from the truck. The driver was unconscious. The big man pulled the driver from the truck and while casually carrying him over his shoulder called out to one of the onlookers gathered at the scene, ‘Call an ambulance!’ When the ambulance came, they took the big man too. He had terrible bleeding from all the cuts and grazes, but he hadn’t broken any bones.
After hearing the mummy man’s background story, Kei grew even more intrigued. It wasn’t long before this intrigue had grown into a full-blown crush. He became her first love. One day, on an impulse, she went to meet him. When she stood before him, he was even larger than she had imagined. It was like standing in front of a wall. ‘I think you’re the man I want to marry,’ she declared, without reservations or embarrassment. She said it clearly and directly to the mummy man – the first words she had ever spoken to him.
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The mummy man looked down at her and for a while said nothing. Then he offered a pragmatic yet not entirely negative reply.
‘You’ll be working in a cafe if you do.’
Their three years of dating started then, and finally when Kei was twenty and Nagare was twenty-three, they signed the registry books and became husband and wife.
Kei went behind the counter and began drying the dishes and putting them away, as she always did. The siphon could be heard beginning to gurgle from the kitchen. Kohtake continued to look at Kei with concern, but Kazu slipped into the kitchen and Nagare once again started grinding coffee beans with the mill. For some reason, unbeknownst to everyone, the woman in the dress was continuing to stare at Kei.
‘Oh,’ Kohtake exclaimed just before the sound of breaking glass could be heard.
The glass had fallen from Kei’s hand.
‘Sis! Are you OK?’ Normally so calm and collected under any circumstances, Kazu came rushing out in a panic.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kei said, beginning to pick up the broken glass.
‘Leave it, Sis, I’ll do it,’ Kazu said while propping up Kei, who was beginning to buckle at the knees.
Nagare said nothing and watched.
It was the first time Kohtake had seen Kei in such a serious condition. Being a nurse, she dealt with ill people all the time. But seeing her friend looking so unwell shook her to the point of the blood draining from her face.
‘Kei, darling,’ she muttered,
‘Are you OK?’ asked Fumiko.
It naturally caught Fusagi’s attention as well, and he lifted his head.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I think Kei should go to the hospital,’ Kohtake advised.
‘No, I’ll be OK, really . . .’
‘But I really think . . .’
Kei shook her head stubbornly. But her chest was heaving as she breathed. Her condition seemed worse than she thought.
Nagare said nothing. He just kept looking sombrely at his wife.
Kei took a deep breath. ‘I think I had better lie down,’ she said and staggered towards the back room. She had gathered from Nagare’s expression that he was seriously concerned about her condition.
‘Kazu, look after the cafe, please,’ Nagare said as he followed her.
‘Yeah, sure,’ Kazu replied, standing still as if her mind was elsewhere.
‘Coffee, please.’
‘Oh! . . . Sorry.’
Fusagi obviously had read the mood and had been biting his tongue, waiting to make his request. His prompt for coffee brought Kazu back from her daze. She had been so caught up with Kei, she still hadn’t served Fusagi his coffee.
The day ended with this heavy mood still lingering.
Since becoming pregnant, whenever she was free, Kei would talk to the baby. At four weeks, it was a bit early to be calling it a baby, but that didn’t deter her. In the morning she would start with ‘good morning’, and while calling Nagare ‘Papa’, she would set out to explain the events of the day. She found these imaginary conversations with her baby the highlight of any day.
‘Can you see? It’s your papa!’
‘My father?’
‘Yes!’
‘He’s huge!’
‘Yes, but he doesn’t only have a huge body. He has a huge heart as well! He is a very kind, loving papa.’
‘That’s good! I can’t wait.’
‘Papa and Mama can’t wait to see you either, my love!’
So went these conversations in which – of course – Kei played both roles. But the sad reality was that Kei’s condition was worsening as her pregnancy progressed. At five weeks, a sac has formed inside the uterus and inside there is the embryo, measuring one or two millimetres. This is when the baby’s heartbeat becomes detectable. From this point organs begin to form quickly: eyes, ears, and mouth develop; the stomach, intestines, lungs, pancreas, cerebral nerves, and aorta are formed; the hands and feet begin to protrude. All this early foetal development was taking a toll on Kei’s physical condition.
She was also getting hot flushes yet felt like she had a fever. The hormones that her body was producing in order to create the placenta were making her feel lethargic and subject to strong waves of sudden drowsiness. The pregnancy affected her mood, which would swing from one extreme to another. She would have periods of anxiety, short bursts of anger, and then feel depressed. There were times when some things seemed to taste different from normal.
Despite this, however, she never once complained. Conditioned by her regular spells in hospital since childhood, she never complained about her physical ailments.
But over the course of the last couple of days, her condition had rapidly grown worse. Two days earlier, Nagare had taken advantage of a brief moment alone with her primary doctor to demand more information. The doctor had confided in him.
‘Frankly, your wife’s heart may be unable to withstand childbirth. Morning sickness will begin from the sixth week. If she gets a bad bout of morning sickness, she will need to be hospitalized. If she chooses to have the baby, she has to realize that the possibility that both she and her child will survive is very low. Even if she and her baby survive the birth, it would take a tremendous toll on her body. She must understand that it will definitely reduce her lifespan.’
He added, ‘Normally, terminations are performed between six and twelve weeks. In your wife’s case, should she choose to end the pregnancy, it should be done as early as possible . . .’
After returning home, Nagare confronted Kei, telling her everything that had been said. After he had finished, Kei simply nodded.
‘I know,’ was all she said.
After closing the cafe, Nagare sat alone at the counter. The room was lit only by the wall lamps. On the counter, several small paper cranes were lined up – made by Nagare from a folded paper napkin. The only sound that could be heard inside the cafe was the ticking of the wall clocks. The only things moving were Nagare’s hands.
CLANG-DONG
Although the bell rang out, Nagare showed no reaction. He just placed the paper crane he had finished folding on the counter with the rest. Kohtake walked into the cafe. She had dropped by on her way home from work because she was worried about Kei.
Nagare, who was staring at the paper cranes on the counter, nodded his head slightly.
Kohtake stood at the cafe’s entrance. ‘How’s Kei doing?’ she asked. She had found out that she was pregnant early on, but she had never thought it would cause her to deteriorate so rapidly. She looked just as worried as she had earlier that day.
Nagare didn’t answer straight away. He took a single napkin and began folding it.
‘She’s managing somehow,’ he said.
Kohtake sat down at the counter leaving a seat between them.
Nagare scratched the tip of his nose. ‘Sorry to cause so much worry,’ he said, nodding apologetically as he looked over at her.
‘You don’t have to worry about that . . . but shouldn’t she be in hospital?’
‘I told her she should, but she won’t listen.’
‘Yes, but . . .’
He finished folding the paper crane and stared at it.
‘I was against her having the baby,’ he muttered in a faint voice. If the cafe hadn’t been so small and quiet, Kohtake wouldn’t have heard it. ‘But nothing will change her mind,’ he said, looking at Kohtake with a slight smile and then looking down.
He had told Kei that he ‘was against’ their having the baby but that was as far as he would go. He could say neither ‘Don’t have it’ nor ‘I want you to have it.’ He couldn’t choose between them, choosing Kei over the baby or choosing the baby over Kei.
Kohtake didn’t know what to say. She looked up at the ceiling fan that was rotating gently.
‘That’s tough,’ she agreed.
Kazu came out from the back room.
‘Kazu . . .’ Kohtake whispered.
But Kazu averted her gaze from Kohtake and lo
oked at Nagare. She wasn’t her normal unreadable self: she seemed sad and despondent.
‘How is she?’ Nagare asked.
Kazu looked towards the back room. Nagare followed her eyes and saw Kei slowly approaching. Her complexion was still white and she walked a little unsteadily, but she seemed to be in much more control. She walked behind the counter and stood in front of Nagare looking at him, but he didn’t look back. Instead, he simply stared at the paper cranes on the counter. As neither Nagare nor Kei spoke, the silence between them grew more awkward by the minute. Kohtake felt unable to move.
Kazu went into the kitchen and began to make coffee. She placed the filter in the funnel and poured hot water from the kettle into the flask. As everything was so quiet in the cafe, it was easy to tell what she was doing, even though she was out of sight. Soon the contents of the flask began to boil, and a gurgling sound of hot water ascending the funnel could be heard. After a few minutes the aroma of fresh coffee filled the cafe. As if roused by the aroma, Nagare looked up.
‘I’m sorry, Nagare,’ Kei mumbled.
‘What for?’ Nagare asked, staring at the paper cranes.
‘I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.’
‘. . .’
‘I’ll get admitted.’ Kei said each word to herself as if trying to make peace with something she was still wrestling with. ‘To be honest, once I go into hospital, I don’t imagine I’ll ever come home again. It’s a decision I have been unable to make . . .’
‘I see.’ Nagare clenched his fists tightly.
Kei lifted her chin and stared with her large round eyes into space. ‘But it seems I can’t go on like this any longer,’ she said as her eyes filled with tears.
Nagare listened quietly.
‘There’s only so much my body can take . . .’
Kei placed her hands on her stomach, which had yet to expand even an inch. ‘It looks like giving birth to this child will take my all . . .’ she said with a knowing smile. It seemed that when it came to her body, she knew better than anyone.
Before the Coffee Gets Cold Page 15
