The Hunter

by Asa Nonami

  Right, left, right, left. Mommy's magic trick still worked. Even after being jammed into the toilet, her sneakers glided smoothly over the pavement. If only she could keep on going till she got someplace far, far away. If only her sneakers would sprout wings and fly her up, up, and take her far, far away.

  Would Miss Yokota call Daddy? Would Daddy be mean to her when he found out? Would he threaten to take her to Grandma's in Utsunomiya? Mayo didn't like Grandma in Utsunomiya. Grandma always said bad things about Mommy. But she said them about Daddy, too. She was Daddy's real mother, so how could she say bad things about him? Mayo couldn't understand. Grandma told her that both her mommy and her daddy were bad people. So Mayo, since she was their kid, figured she must be the worst kid ever. She should have never been born. So Mayo didn't want to go to Utsunomiya.

  Right, left, right, left. When she got home, she was going to draw. She was going to imagine a world where she wanted to be, and she was going to draw a picture of it. In the yard there was a pony and ducks and penguins. She wanted to play with a big shaggy dog. The house had big windows with pretty pink curtains. Ponies and ducks couldn't go in the house, but the dog could. The dog was her best friend, so Mommy and Daddy said it was okay. Everybody was smiling. Then Mayo got the idea to draw a baby, too! A cute little baby, a cute little baby brother. She would draw lots of flowers, because it was warm, and on the table she would draw a big pile of cookies, and in a little stream by the house she would draw little fishies. Mayo wanted to invite lots of friends to her world.

  Today I'll think up a name for my dog.

  Mayo's big, warm, friendly dog. A nice, smart dog, who would come up to her and lick her face. If anyone was mean to Mayo, her dog would teach them a lesson. Mayo wasn't afraid of the dog at all, but all the kids that bullied her would be scared stiff. He was big and strong, and always stuck up for her. She wanted a dog like that.

  She started up the hill. When she had a library book, she read it as she climbed the hill. That made the same magic as staring at her sneakers. But today she had no book. So, dreading the long climb, she sighed. If she stopped going to school, she wouldn't have to climb this hill ever again. She wouldn't go back, that's all. Why should she? There was nothing fun about school.

  Unless she came up with some kind of regimen—like stepping only on stones at the edge of the pavement, or making the distance from here to the telephone pole in twenty steps—she could never make it to the top. Today she decided to walk up in a zigzag. She would go back and forth between the telephone poles at either side of the road, walking diagonally. If she kept her mind focused on walking, she wouldn't be sad. She wouldn't cry, and she wouldn't think of Mommy or anyone else.

  Ready, go.

  There was hardly any traffic. Depending on the time of day there might be a few cars, but you never saw anyone walking here in the daytime. One boy from her class lived part-way up the hill, actually, but she hardly said anything to him. They never walked to or from school together. She knew what his mother looked like, but his mother had never called out to her.

  Deciding which telephone pole she would walk toward, Mayo started off. Right, left, right, left. When she lifted her face, the telephone pole that had seemed so far away before loomed right in front of her. Mayo was surprised, and happy. It was like playing tag!

  Reaching her first telephone pole, she changed direction and headed off toward the next. She passed several poles this way, when up ahead of her, she saw someone walking. Someone wearing a coat halfway between pink and orange, a dark skirt, black tights, and pulling a dark blue shopping cart. She had wavy brownish hair and was moving very, very slowly, like it was painful. That lady doesn't know any magic.

  Mayo stopped walking, gazed at the lady, then decided she'd copy the way the lady was walking, slowly, ploddingly, painfully. This was a stranger, and it might be someone she wouldn't like, so she stayed far behind. Just playing like this warmed Mayo's heart a little. It reminded her of walking with Mommy. But the lady was walking so slowly; Mayo had to fight the urge to run and catch up with her. She came to a thicket on the right, where the road leveled out a bit.

  The lady got to the top of the hill and disappeared from Mayo's sight. Feeling suddenly lonely, Mayo walked faster. She had to get where she could see the other side of the hill; she didn't want to lose sight of the lady. When Mayo reached the top of the hill herself, she caught sight of the brown hair that was definitely the lady's. She was surprised to see how much the distance between them had shrunk. For some reason, she had the feeling she shouldn't get any closer. A cold wind was blowing at the top of the hill, drying the light sweat on Mayo's forehead. She had completely forgotten about her wet sneakers.

  Mayo kept her eyes on the lady's back, allowing the distance between them to increase again, little by little. The lady seemed to be picking up speed, and now the distance between them was increasing faster than Mayo had figured on. If she wasn't careful, she might lose sight of her again. She started going straight forward—and that's when it happened. Something gray came leaping out of the thicket.

  For a second, it stopped and looked at her. Mayo sort of gasped. It was a gray, dog-like creature. It was big, with standing-up ears and a long muzzle. There was black fur between its eyes and all around its forehead. From there to its big, black nose was a line of gray. The animal's eyes were small and shiny, and they stared straight at Mayo. Around the animal's neck was a ruffle of fur, and its body, which she first thought was gray, actually was kind of bluish. Around the long muzzle the fur was white, but everywhere else it was blue-gray, with a dull metallic sheen. The dog book Daddy gave her didn't have any dogs like this in it. Did the dog have a collar? She couldn't tell. But how beautiful it was! And how big! Its legs were really long. The dog stared at her and then, slowly, it blinked. In that instant, the creature that had seemed so magnificent, a canine king, became suddenly sweet and innocent.

  Mayo wanted to run over and pet the dog. But before she could take a single step, the creature swung its head and walked away from her, as if it hadn't seen her. Mayo watched it go, fascinated by how it hung its head lower than its shoulders, how there was a black line along its back, how its long, bushy tail did not curl or stand up but stuck straight out behind. It stepped lightly, smoothly, fast, not bouncing along like an ordinary dog. Mayo stared at the creature, thinking it was sort of a dream.

  The creature was going toward the lady with brown hair. Maybe it was the lady's dog. But the lady did not notice the dog any more than she had noticed Mayo. She continued to trudge along. The lady, the dog, and Mayo—the three of them not making a sound. But Mayo was still stopped in her tracks, and the creature was getting close to the lady. Mayo didn't want to be left behind.

  Oh, what a beautiful, magnificent dog it was! At the moment that Mayo thought this, the creature leaped. Mayo had thought it was still a ways behind the lady, but in a single bound it landed right onto the lady's back. When it rose on its hind legs, just before it flew through the air, it was so tall that Mayo couldn't see the lady anymore. Then there was a clank. The lady's shopping cart toppled over. And in bewildered astonishment, Mayo dumbly watched everything that happened after that.

  The lady put up no resistance. Even though a big creature like that had jumped up on her, she made no sound. The creature then crouched down by the lady's face and did something. The lady's body flopped around, and Mayo heard a crunching sound. Next, using its paws and nose, the creature rolled the lady over.

  It didn't seem like the creature was playing. Mayo's knees suddenly begin to shake. She was scared. Something scary was happening before her eyes. It might have gone on for a very long time, or it might have been real fast. But the next thing she knew, the creature was looking back at her, one huge paw resting on the lady. It had something red in its mouth, and the fluffy fur around its neck, like a lion's mane only shorter, had red splatters. The lady with the brown hair was completely still.

  "What did you do?" she murmured in a littl
e voice. "You—"

  Then the creature dropped what was in its mouth, bounded lightly over the lady's body, and ran. Even more nimbly and smoothly than before, like the wind. Its bushy tail swung back and forth, like a snow cloud come down to earth. It disappeared into the thicket without a sound.

  Mayo could not be sure of what she had seen. From where she stood, she could see the lady lying and not moving. The legs that had been walking so very slowly were flung out at odd angles, like a broken doll's. Something warned her not to look, not to go near. Her heart pounded. The wonderful face of the animal when it gazed at her was burned into her memory. That was not a face that was mean. It was strong, and gentle, and dear. It had spoken to her: "This is our secret. Promise you won't tell." That was it, that must be it.

  I didn't see anything. I don't know anything.

  Saying the words to herself, Mayo turned toward the thicket the creature had disappeared into and nodded like they had a secret. It might be looking out at her from between the trees. Well, she'd promised. So now she did an about-face. Her legs were still shaking. But that surely was because her sneakers were wet. After all, she hadn't seen anything. She didn't know anything. Daddy said she lived in a dream world. That's why the other kids make fun of you. You don't pay attention to what anybody says. Maybe this was a dream, too. She hadn't heard any growling or howling. Or any other sounds. Just the clank when the lady's shopping cart fell over. But maybe that was her imagination, too.

  A short way down this hill was a street branching off to the right. It was a narrow street, but it connected to another street, and even though it was a detour, it would take her home. Mayo decided to take the detour. When she got home, she would open her drawing book and draw a pretty, happy picture. A pony and some ducks and penguins in the yard—and a great big dog. Not one with shaggy fur, but silver, with big ears and a long face. A dog like that for sure was stronger than a regular white shaggy dog. It would watch over her. If anybody asked her about it, she would say she dreamed it. But nobody would ask. Daddy never looked at her pictures.

  Mayo started running, running down the hill for dear life. All she wanted was to reach her front door.

  10

  Was everybody around him going mental?

  Dad, you're always like that!

  He thought of his older daughter's face glaring at him, eyes full of tears. This was the rage she turned on him last night, the daughter who never defied her parents, the one who looked after her younger brother and sister like a mother.

  Always like what? What did I ever do? Except bust my butt day in and day out for the family and for a little law and order—wearing out my shoes, crawling around in the goddamn dirt?

  The elevator reached the top floor. As soon as the doors opened, Takizawa was assaulted by the commotion of chirping birds and yapping dogs, along with the distinctive warm scent of animals. Otomichi headed toward the counter in long strides, her heels clicking loudly. Takizawa followed behind, remembering coming to places like this years ago, holding his kids' hands as they whined, we want a dog, we want a cat, and in the end buying them goldfish, as his wife stood smiling alongside.

  Happy to let Otomichi do the talking, he wandered aimlessly around the cages of birds and kittens.

  Go to hell!

  Ever since yesterday, these words had been rising up into this throat time and again, and time and again he had forced himself to swallow them. He wanted to explode, bawl someone out. Yet he said nothing—not to his older daughter, not to her brother and sister who had both come to her defense, and not to the insolent, know-it-all Otomichi either. If he ever raised his voice to Otomichi, who was holding her badge in one hand and questioning the pet shop manager with great intensity, he'd get it back from her a hundred times over. He'd seen her menacing look. But if he didn't let some of this frustration out, sooner or later he might take a swing at somebody. He wasn't a hothead, but when he couldn't get somebody to listen, in the end his hand did the talking for him. The last person he hit... was... his wife.

  As he was playing with a brown kitten that would roll around in its cage like a ball of yarn and grab at his finger, he heard Otomichi's heavy footsteps approaching him.

  "Sorry that took so long. Let's go."

  Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her expression seemed animated.

  "Did he say there's a place that sells wolves?" he asked as they walked along.

  "No," said Otomichi with a shake of her head. "But get this." She turned to him. "There's a kind of breed known as wolf-dog. A cross between a wolf and a dog."

  "A wolf and a dog? Yeah? "

  "The more wolf blood it has, the closer it is to a purebred wolf. Some breeds are known to be ninety-nine percent wolf, he said."

  Takizawa felt gloomy as he listened to Otomichi race on, talking nineteen to the dozen. Little dogs were OK, but he couldn't stand big ones. When he was out on a door-to-door search, they were a menace. He'd pooh-poohed the idea of a wolf, but if there were animals like a wolf-dog running around, the crime-scene unit that had examined the site of the Tennozu murder could be on to something after all.

  "Who the hell would want to make a half-breed like that?" muttered Takizawa as they waited for the elevator, his lower lip sticking out. He wasn't looking for an answer. But he knew if he kept letting Otomichi ask the questions, afterward she'd only have more reason to chatter away to him. Before he knew it she'd be getting carried away, starting to act palsy-walsy. Well, so what? Let her lose her guard, and then watch for your chance to take her down a peg.

  "So what's next?" he asked.

  "Pet stores don't have wolf-dogs. The guy told me we should try places specializing in large breeds, look in magazines for dog lovers, that sort of thing."

  "Large breeds." Takizawa nodded, in apparent good humor. Looking relieved, Otomichi boarded the elevator that finally arrived.

  "Sergeant Takizawa, do you know much about dogs?" she asked.

  "Unfortunately, I'm not a dog lover," he answered, trying to sound amicable.

  She nodded, and then confessed, "I like dogs myself."

  Sure she did. A kid like her with no experience to speak of wouldn't know about going out on a job and a watchdog coming and growling at you. She was in the mobile investigative unit. She rode in a patrol car.

  "But I'd never heard of wolf-dogs. I wonder how they're different from Siberian huskies."

  "Who knows. Huskies, those are the ones with the wolfish faces, right? Might be the same kind of thing." When Takizawa said this, Otomichi inclined her head doubtfully, but her expression wasn't contrary. As long as he was polite to her, she'd stay in a good mood.

  "Before we go looking for a shop that specializes in big dogs, I'd like to stop by a bookstore."

  "Great idea. Save time and trouble."

  Otomichi spent the rest of the morning leading them from one bookstore to another, standing and reading for what seemed like ages. Then they visited a few pet shops in the Tokyo metropolitan area, and finally they were able to establish that the office for importing wolf-dogs was located in Ginza. Trailing after a policewoman who whipped from one place to the next without stopping for a moment's rest, Takizawa found his back beginning to ache. It was one thing to be in charge, deciding where to go and when, setting the pace; following someone else around wore you out.

  When they finally stopped in a coffee shop for a bite to eat, Otomichi placed her order and then immediately slipped away to make a phone call. She came back full of energy and reported, "The person in charge will be back in the afternoon. I left a message that we'll be there at one. I said that we wanted him to tell us all he knew about wolf-dogs."

  Takizawa's lower back and feet were killing him. It was all he could do to nod. Really, he was going to have to do something about his weight. He couldn't bear the thought of not being able to keep up with a young woman. He studied Otomichi, who was deep in thought; as far as looks went anyway, she was easy on the eyes.

  When they called at the
dog import office, thanks to Otomichi's phone call the guy in charge was waiting for them with an assortment of pamphlets. Otomichi greeted him with as bright a smile as Takizawa had ever seen her give anyone, bowed, and thanked him for taking the time to meet with them.

  The guy was very smooth. "Wolf-dogs, as the name suggests," he started, "are a breed made by crossing wolves with dogs. In Japan and in the United States, however, wolf-dogs are not officially recognized by kennel clubs."

  "What does that mean exactly?" asked Otomichi.

  "Well, it means that the kennel club won't issue pedigree papers for them. And therefore they cannot be entered in any kennel club-sponsored shows or competitions. But wolf-dogs are by no means uncommon; in fact, there is a surprisingly large number of them. In France, they have official recognition."

  Otomichi nodded and said, "I see," while scribbling something in her notebook. Takizawa hoped she knew that pedigree papers and kennel clubs had nothing to do with this case.