by Otaro Maijo
Sano?
What was Sano doing here? Everybody’s been looking for him. What was he doing out here in the middle of nowhere America or Mexico or wherever the hell we were?
“Hey!” I called, waving to him.
“Hey!” he called again and waved back. “Come on up!”
“How?” I yelled. “There’s no bridge!”
“There’s an airplane right over there!” he called. “Use that!”
I walked toward the spot where he was pointing and saw he was right—sort of. Hidden behind a nearby pile of rock was a helicopter, not a plane. One large propeller on top—and totally rusted out. It must have crash-landed here ages ago.
“You mean this?” I called up to Sano.
“Yes, yes,” he shouted. I studied the heap of twisted metal. A one-man helicopter, but with the cockpit mostly ripped away and the seat in tatters. It was half buried in sand, and the iron arm and shaft were red with rust. No way this bucket of shit was going to fly. “Hop in and get up here!” Sano called.
In this? Seriously?
What the hell? I slid into the ruined seat, which was a bit tricky since the chopper was tipped over in the sand, but as I pushed into the backrest, the whole thing seemed to pop upright out of the dune. Okay. But was there any fuel in the tank? I looked down at the instrument panel next to the control stick—and realized that there were pedals below, pretty much like on a bicycle. Was that really how you flew this thing? Pedals? Seriously? I brushed away as much sand as I could and grabbed the stick. Then I tried pushing on one of the pedals. Pretty sticky. I pushed harder. Still not much give. But slowly they began to move under my feet; and as they did, the propeller just above my head began to spin. I got situated and pumped a little faster. The propeller spun faster too. I started pedaling for real and the propeller began to whirr. Was this thing actually going to fly? I pumped as hard as I could, and there was a whooshing sound, and a gust of hot air shot down on me. Unbelievable. By now the propeller was spinning so fast it was scary. Bwuuuuuuuun! The copter bucked sideways for a second and rose up in the air. I barely moved the stick, but it lurched forward and I was about to crash into a tree. So I yanked the stick toward me and shot up even higher, barely missing the treetop. I eased off on the stick and leveled out. Okay, Aiko, you can do this! I rotated the stick slightly and headed the chopper over the gorge, then slowed a bit as I got closer to the cliff. Using Sano as a point to steer by, I headed up and over the top.
“Awesome!” he yelled, waving up at me. I didn’t really have a free hand to wave back. “But whatever you do,” I heard him call, “don’t look down.” Shit. I was already looking down—and realizing that the blue river at the bottom of the gorge wasn’t really a river at all, it was more sky, sky in the opposite direction from the first sky. And somehow I could tell that I was seeing the souls of lots of people coming and going in this river of sky. Sky below, and crowds of souls milling around. They were definitely human shaped, bluish white—almost translucent—and there were lots of them trailing along, like they were swimming…and they were pretty much nude.
Was this for real? I was seeing dead people. Lots of them.
And they were all going off to the right, down the valley. I spun the helicopter around in that direction, and in the distance I could see this spooky red sunset and below it an ominous, purple night sky. The souls were heading off in that direction, toward the white boundary between the bright sunlight and the dark sky below…or maybe the boundary was actually formed by the river of pale blue souls itself as it trailed off into the distance.
“Hey! Over here!” Sano was calling again, and I swung the helicopter around in his direction. I was pretty close now, but his face looked fuzzy somehow.
Was it really Sano? If it was, he should be missing a toe…
I tried to check his foot, but it was blurry too. Not that I could have seen his toes at this distance—through his shoes…
“Over here!” he was still yelling. “That’s right.”
It must be Sano. But what was he doing here? Why didn’t he go home to Chofu?
I suddenly had a bad feeling about all this. Something didn’t seem quite right…So I pulled back on the stick a bit, not wanting to get to him too quickly, and hovered between the two cliffs. Then I looked around over my shoulder, thinking maybe I should go back the way I’d come, and I got another shock. Carved on the face of the cliff on the other side, in letters as big as a house, was a message.
Right there on the cliff—in perfectly good Japanese no less. Who could have written it? And there was more, carved in the enormous rock face.
Over there? Over here? Which was which? What the fuck?
Real? Fake? Over where?
I turned back to look at Sano. Was he “over there” or “over here”? And was he the real Sano?
Was the real one back “over there,” which he was calling “over here”? I was getting a little confused.
But I couldn’t see anyone on that side.
I glanced back at the cliff, but now the message had changed.
Who did he think he was, ordering me around like that?
But he did know my name.
Who could carve those huge letters in a cliff like that—and then erase them and write something else?
It was then that I realized that the Sano “over there” was still waving and calling for me to “come back,” but now he was laughing like an idiot. That must be Sano. But was he doing the writing too?
I didn’t know what to think, but I knew it was totally incredible. But also impossible.
So what to do? I flew over toward the cliff over “here,” and even though there was no one to talk to, since Sano—real or fake—was over “there,” I shouted at the cliff.
“Who are you?”
There was a pause and then the words carved on the face of the cliff vanished and new ones appeared. No one filled in the old ones and no one carved the new ones. The cliff seemed to be carving itself. Never underestimate the good old US of A—if that’s where I was.
No way! This was too much. My head was starting to hurt.
“How are you doing this exactly?” I called.
“Coming!”
It was Yoji talking after all. Was I really not going to go? I banked and headed back in his direction. You do the math: Yoji vs. Sano? Bye-bye, Sano!
But then as I looked back for one last glance at Sano—I got another shock. His face, which until now had been hard to make out—sort of a blank, actually—was suddenly crystal clear, and I could see his eyes blazing, his mouth torn open, and some weird gas puffing out of his nose.
“Wait! Don’t be stupid, Aiko!”
It sounded just like something Sano would say. But Sano wasn’t Sano anymore. He’d turned into a totally creepy monster. Scary! Way scary! Time to get out of here. But as I started to pedal like mad, Sano Monster reached out toward me with both hands—and unlike normal reaching out, unlike normal hands, his seemed to keep coming and coming at me. His arms were actually stretching. Gya! He was some kind of ghost. I could see that now. It was Sano and yet not Sano. Not human Sano anyway. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was trying to drag me back “there” and I totally didn’t want to go! I could see now that he was the bad guy! Why had it been so hard to figure out before? “Over here” we have Yoji—so by definition “over there” had to be the bad guy. But all this was going through my mind really, really quick—because the rest of me was totally busy pedaling. I glanced back and could see Sano’s white arms stretching out—and out and out and out and out and out toward my little chopper. Scary Sano! Scary scary scary scary scary! Stop it! Leave me alone! I could tell I was about to start crying. But this was no time to cry. If those hands got me, I would never get back to “this” side, to Yoji’s side, and then I’d never see him again. And I couldn’t let that happen!
Sano c
ould just fuck off and die!
But of course! That was it! I suddenly understood.
Sano had done just that—died. The Sano waving to me on the cliff was already an ex-Sano, and “over there” was the side of the dead. “Over here,” Yoji’s side, was where living people—well—lived. Shit! So then that river with all the souls swimming along down there—must be the Styx.
Good grief! I’d been about to cross the River Styx! Sano, that shit, had been trying to lure me across—which would not have been a good idea!
I glanced back. Sano was still standing on top of the cliff, reaching those spooky arms toward me. And they were getting closer and closer. I wasn’t out of the woods yet!
“Help me, Yoji!” I screamed.
Well, at least he didn’t beat around the bush.
Uh…okay. I won’t.
I didn’t. I pedaled like crazy. Pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal!
But Sano’s hands were gaining on me. They were just a few inches away. So I pedaled even harder, like totally crazy hard, like it was the end if I didn’t—duh!
Shit! It’s no good. I’m not going to make it, Yoji!
Forget it! I’m telling you I can’t. Don’t keep saying I can!
And at that point Sano’s creepy weird hands were just about to grab hold of the tail of my helicopter.
“Keep your fucking hands off, Sano!”
What?
I looked down—nothing but the sky at the bottom of the gorge and the river of dead souls flowing through it. A hundred yards below. Or more.
I could barely see from the sweat pouring off my face.
“I can’t, Yoji!”
Okay? No way! It isn’t okay at all! You think you could take a swan dive into a river of dead souls, Yoji?
Well why didn’t you say so? That’s a whole different story. But where are you? Are you dead? If you are, then I don’t really mind dying.
Noooooo! Shit! He got me. Sano had grabbed hold of my helicopter, and he was beginning to drag me back “there.” When I turned to look, those totally weirdo blazing eyes were getting closer and closer. Shit!
“I’m holding you responsible, Yoji!” I screamed.
Then I pushed up out of the seat and jumped—straight toward the river of dead souls at the bottom of the sky spread out below…
Byuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!
I fell faster and faster, the cliff racing by next to me. The blue river of the dead came rushing up toward me, and as I got closer I could see that it consisted of an unbelievable number of souls—too many, in fact, even for all the people who had ever lived in the whole world. But then it occurred to me that maybe it wasn’t just people, maybe these were the souls of animals and plants too. Or maybe even the souls of aliens?
But was this really the time to be worrying about stuff like that?
I was falling and was going to die too!
Falling into the sky to die!
Diving into the river of the dead!
What could be lamer than that?
But just as the river filled up my whole field of vision, just as I was about to plunge in, I felt someone grab my collar, and my fall began to slow. Finally I stopped, right in midair.
Saaaaafe!
I craned my neck around, calling Yoji’s name, but when I looked, it wasn’t Yoji holding me but that weird guy—or girl?—I had met in the underground passage at Chofu Station, the geeky one with the long hair and the pink shirt that looked just like Bondo Oki. What the fuck was he—she?—doing here?
“Who the fuck are you?” I said.
“Calm down, calm down,” said a husky but shrill voice—still no way to tell whether it was male or female—and then I felt myself being lifted up by the collar.
Or maybe I was floating up, along with my geeky rescuer.
Up and up.
Suspended by the scruff of my neck, like a kitten in its mother’s mouth, I floated up through the clouds, back to the valley where I’d been before, though both Sano and the helicopter had vanished.
Good riddance.
I was relieved, starting to feel a little more like myself.
“Who are you?” I asked, trying to sound a little nicer this time.
“Me? My name is Tansetsu Sakurazuki.”
Tansetsu Sakurazuki? What kind of name was that? Sounded like the pen name of some bogus manga writer. And he looked the part too.
But even knowing the name, I still wasn’t sure about the gender.
“And what exactly do you do?” I asked.
“I’m a fortune-teller.”
That figured.
“And where do you tell these fortunes?”
“At Odaiba—in Tokyo—but that hardly matters now, I would think.”
“It matters to me. You look pretty suspicious.”
Sakurazuki let out a sigh.
“Well, Miss Aiko Katsura, your suspicion is the reason my rescue didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked.”
“Rescue?”
“Just come back with me and all will be explained.”
“So was it you who saved me from the Mafia guys on the train?”
“Guilty as charged. I’ve been looking out for you in a number of guises.”
“Were you Emily Henmi too?”
“No, during the Emily and Gucci kidnap caper, I was Shintaro Ishihara, governor of Tokyo. You really shouldn’t have gotten in that car.”
He was Shintaro Ishihara? What was going on?
“That whole episode was a little dicey. If it weren’t for the help I received from your little friend Yoji Kaneda, we might have lost you.”
“Yoji! Where’d he get to anyway? Why are you here and not him?”
“So that’s how Mr. Kaneda has been communicating with you, in those big letters on the cliff. It’s the best he can do—though I suppose you don’t really mind, do you Aiko, since it’s Mr. Kaneda? I suspect you’ll forgive his rather vulgar ‘shouting.’ ”
What was he talking about? Had he somehow figured out how I felt about Yoji?
But he had! Shit! And now Yoji would know too!
“Yoji!” I shouted.
“Do you like me?”
“Hold on, Miss Katsura, are you sure—”
“It’s okay, I need to know.”
“But please wait just a minute, until we get to the top of the cliff over there.”
“But when we get there, I won’t be able to see what Yoji’s writing.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage somehow…”
“No, I want to see what he writes,” I told him.
I was totally embarrassed, ready to crawl in a hole. But I’d had these feelings—this love—for six years now, and I needed to know whether Yoji felt anything in return.
“Yoji? Do you like me? Do you have any feelings for me at all?”
He had saved my life, after all.
At least he hadn’t wanted me to die!
“Yoji? Answer me!”
So, that was that.
Whatever. I knew he was telling the truth. Nobody lies about a thing like that. Not that I wouldn’t have minded if he had—if he’d told me he liked me even if it was a lie—but he was Yoji and Yoji had to tell the truth. Shit, shit, shit!
But at least now I knew.
“Thanks, Yoji. See you around.”
I reached back and yanked the collar of my shirt loose from Sakurazuki’s sweaty hand and sent myself falling again, back deep into the sky.
Byuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!
Sakurazuki came flying after me as I fell, but he looked totally GROSS—so I kicked his ugly face in midair to stop him from saving me. After I landed the kick, he fell way behind and I lost sight of him. Fine with me.
Totally fine with me if I died just about now. Now that I knew
for sure, what did I have to live for?
The Way of Love was closed to me, so what was the point of living? Enough already. I knew that only an idiot would give up this easily, but anything was better than living with all this shame and pain. Dying was actually easier. Sorry! Sorry I didn’t have more will to live! But what the fuck? Don’t be mad at me for copping out like this. It was just that it all happened a little too quick: my declaration of love, Yoji’s rejection, and now my swift demise. But that was all right with me.
I loved you, Yoji.
Ever since—you know when. I only had eyes for Yoji. You were all I wanted in the whole wide world. What a shame it wasn’t meant to be.
Bye-bye.
Ahhh. But what was going to happen to me now, falling up into the sky?
The Forest
Morning comes early in Hadetbra.
My father and mother leave for work before dawn. My older brother, Olle, hops up just as they are going—he has soccer every morning at school. He eats his breakfast and then heads off to practice, kicking the ball all the way. So I am quite alone by six o’clock when I finally rouse myself. In point of fact, the mothers and fathers in the other two houses in Hadetbra also leave for work before dawn, so the children who are left behind get out of bed and gather for breakfast. We all agree that the meal tastes better when we eat together. We refer to our little group as an “eating club,” and we like to think it is a very grown-up sort of gathering, just the sort of thing our parents would do if they didn’t have to hurry off to work. We call it the Hadetbra Morning Eating Club.
The members of our little club include Hejdanatt and Adju, the sisters who live next door on one side, and Nulla and Inte, the brothers on the other, their little sister Nej, and me—I’m Kerstin. Nulla and Inte love soccer too, and I’m sure they would like to be on the team with Olle, but they are both terrible sleepyheads and seem to prefer to stay in bed hugging their pillows rather than get up early to kick the ball with the boys at school.
