I Hear Them Cry

by Shiho Kishimoto

  “Oh, you’re here.”

  “Yes, I intend to stay close to Raiki for a while.”

  “I see. You’ll be saving Sato-san a lot of trouble, then.”

  That was all she said before heading to her room to take a shower and change. In the meantime, I helped Ms. Sato in the kitchen.

  “Mother-in-Law sure looked dazzling,” I said. Then, dropping my voice, I asked, “I wonder where she hangs out? Must be great fun!”

  “I wouldn’t know, now, would I?”

  I had been under the impression that Ms. Sato and I were on intimate terms now, since she had shared her secrets with me. But her curt answer made me think differently.

  Kanako wasn’t merely a lady of leisure. She was in charge of Tachibana Shoji’s business operations and had to attend various events and gatherings held by the business community and the proprietors of retail shops. In effect she was carrying out duties that supported Shigeki’s role in the business. Naturally I thought she’d been busy socializing, but there was a sting in Ms. Sato’s words. Was there any reason for her to disapprove of Kanako’s activities?

  For dinner the three of us enjoyed a light meal of sōmen noodles, vegetable tempura, and a side dish of pickled plums—all prepared by Ms. Sato. When I told Kanako about the thousand cranes, all she said was that I should find a toy store that sold them. She didn’t even offer to help. After the meal she retired to her room, saying that she was tired.

  It was left to me to fold the cranes, but before returning to the task, I decided to take a bath. I don’t know if it reflected Kanako’s taste, but this bathroom featured a light blue mosaic of an elegant jar overflowing with marguerite flowers, which reminded me of the mural paintings at Pompeii. On the tub a row of temperature control buttons were well within Raiki’s reach if he stood on his tiptoes. Might he have fiddled around and changed the preset temperature to a higher setting?

  I opened the window and surveyed the garden. When Raiki screamed, Kanako was tending to the plants. I wondered about her approximate location at the time. Wouldn’t she have noticed a child screaming from just about anywhere? Where was Ms. Sato at the time?

  I wanted a full understanding of how Kanako and Ms. Sato acted leading up to the moment Raiki suffered the burns. But I didn’t have the nerve to inquire directly, with either woman. It was clear, however, that at the time, there were no adults present. In other words, Raiki had been left alone.

  Kanako had said, “I thought Ms. Sato was nearby.”

  Ms. Sato had said, “I thought Madam was close by.”

  They both held the other one responsible. But Raiki was never the apple of Kanako’s eye, nor of Ms. Sato’s.

  Submerged in the bathtub, I was naked, but the truth was not. It was hiding behind the excuse: “It happened when I took my eyes off him for just a moment.”

  I thought about Ms. Sato’s story. When she talked about how much Raiki reminded her of Shigeki as a child, she was actually saying that both of them had to be on their best behavior all the time. Raiki might not have realized if he was being abused or not, but he was being neglected, and he surely must have been aware of that fact.

  (I must fold one thousand cranes for Raiki no matter what!)

  After my bath I sat at the desk in my room. My heart sank when I counted the already-folded cranes. Ms. Sato and I had completed one hundred fifty of them. Even if I stayed up all night, three hundred was the best I would do, and that was no easy task. I was eager to get the job done, but I couldn’t help letting anxiety get the better of me. It was two in the morning and that rhythmic plea once again filled my thoughts, as if to taunt me:

  Help. Help. Somebody help.

  I went and got a laptop from the living room. Once back at my desk, I logged on to a mommy forum. The late-night world of online communities cast light on people’s private mumblings flying across cyberspace.

  Mayu: Hello! My name is Mayu and I’m a newbie mom. Happy to be here.

  Mommy438: Hi! How’s it going? Everything all right?

  Mayu: Can anyone help? My five-year-old son suffered some burns and is hospitalized right now. Although he’s going to be discharged soon, he wants one thousand folded paper cranes. I’m wondering if anyone could help me prepare them for him. A contribution of just one crane or ten will be appreciated. All that concerns me is that Raiki, my son, knows that people out there folded the cranes just for him.

  Mommy438: Okay, sure. Leave it to me. What’s the address?

  I forwarded the hospital’s address and Raiki’s name. I was no longer hung up on the number one thousand. It was going to be all right.

  The sandman finally paid me a visit at four in the morning.

  RAIKI: SIX

  The next day when I went to the hospital there was a paper crane by Raiki’s pillow, a klutzy piece of work made from a flyer.

  “Where did this come from?”

  “Daddy made it!” Raiki’s eyes were full of life, shining with joy.

  Shigeki possessed the tender heart of a father after all.

  “That’s wonderful!” I remarked. “Well, I’m going to do even better!”

  As I folded the cranes, I became seized with the feeling that I was getting closer to Shigeki, that somehow our hearts were connecting. Raiki watched my hands at work and whenever a crane came into being, he’d pick it up and fling it into the air, making it fly like a paper airplane, declaring, “That’s my crane. Look—it’s mine, it’s mine.” Later on, he skipped next door to Ka-chan’s room to brag.

  Seeing him frolicking about like that, I wondered whether the young Shigeki had anyone in his life who would have folded paper cranes for him. At that moment, I actually missed him and wanted to hold him close. Something was moving through me, causing the cells in every corner of my body to grieve and cry out in hope of reconnecting.

  That night, I silently continued to fold cranes. I realized that each completed crane had come from a very empty and lonely place inside me and I was adding, no, wedding, a bit of myself to the crane Shigeki had folded. It was as though my heart was being warmed slowly by lukewarm drops of love. The cranes were no longer just for Raiki. They were filling my loneliness, and once completed, the flock of one thousand cranes would fly away en masse, lifting me out of this deep gloom, lighting up the dark night sky, as I, too, floated through the air. I saw Shigeki riding on the back of one crane, holding out his hand, waiting. I went to jump into his arms, but his crane began to slowly descend. While I desperately held out my hand for Shigeki, his hand slipped away. I heard the cry:

  Help. Help. Somebody help.

  I awoke, startled. I had slipped into a dream, which had left behind in my mind a vivid and lingering afterimage of Shigeki’s hand falling out of my reach, and it was the hand of a child.

  The next day I strung together the folded cranes. I had finished around three hundred of them. I’d fallen short of my goal, but I decided to take them to the hospital anyway since Raiki was scheduled to be discharged the next day. But no matter how you looked at it, my set of cranes paled in comparison to the ones that belonged to Miho-chan, who was in the same room, and the ones that belonged to Ka-chan in the adjoining room. Their sets were the real thing: a string of one thousand folded paper cranes.

  (Why the hell did you doze off?)

  I was filled with self-loathing, scolding myself for being an utter failure as a mother. I worried about what Raiki would think. I kept folding just one more, and then another and another, and ended up arriving at the hospital in the afternoon. The head nurse approached me as soon as I entered the lobby.

  “Mrs. Tachibana, we have a situation.”

  I felt the anxiety ramp up, but before I had time to worry too much, I noticed the ghost of a smile pass across the nurse’s lips.

  “Our little Raiki appears to have gotten himself into a tizzy,” she said. “Please go to him at once.”

  “Yes, of course. Excuse me.”

  I headed for Raiki’s room at a trot. Perhaps he was throw
ing a tantrum because I was late. Upon entering his room, I gasped when I saw hundreds, no, thousands of cranes piled up on Raiki’s bed and spilling across the floor.

  “Hey, look!” he squealed, his eyes radiating excitement. “These are my cranes. Did a thousand people fold these cranes for me?”

  “You’d better believe it, sweetie,” I said, my voice trembling with some unknown emotion. “Thousands and thousands of folks folded them for you, with prayers in their hearts.”

  “I guess everyone knows about me! I feel like I’m going to explode!”

  A note scribbled by a child was attached.

  I hope your burns will heal soon.

  There was also a polite letter from an elderly person.

  To Raiki-chan: Our entire family’s hearts and prayers go out to you. Get well soon.

  There were so many notes, but I couldn’t go on reading. They were all from the friends of the mommy chat forum.

  The cranes were filling a hole in Raiki’s lonely heart. Those origami darlings, I was convinced, were going to provide Raiki with his moorings and offer him emotional support for the rest of his life. I could not stop crying.

  RAIKI: SEVEN

  By the time Raiki was out of the hospital, his school was closed for summer vacation. I remained in Kamakura and began to get serious about creating an oil painting of the Kamakura mansion. In the back of my mind, however, I kept wondering about the truth behind Sophie’s suicide and Reika Terashima. I was also under the impression somehow that by becoming a good mother to Raiki, I was working toward developing a deeper bond with Shigeki and establishing a lasting place for myself in the Tachibana family. I never hesitated to show Raiki affection, but I also scolded him when he didn’t listen. He would merrily prance and jump around me, and come nighttime, I would read him a book and fall asleep by his side. At times—while hugging Raiki—I would wonder how I could bring Shigeki back to my heart. I can’t tell you how many sleepless nights went by as I tossed and turned, unable to find any answer.

  One night, Raiki asked, “Mom, are you lonely?”

  I had fallen asleep, and a trickle of tears ran down my cheeks. Raiki must have noticed.

  “No, I’m not lonely. I have you, don’t I?” I said, hugging him close while realizing that I was wallowing in self-pity and taking advantage of Raiki’s feelings to serve my ends. If I failed to separate Reika Terashima from Shigeki, I was going to leave the mansion and Raiki behind. In truth I was going to push him over into a deeper darkness. The more I loved Raiki, the more I realized I had started to walk down the road of no return.

  “I’ll give you my paper cranes, so you don’t cry, Mom.”

  One tiny cell among the hundreds of millions living deep inside me ignited, flushed, and before long, spread the warmth of the moment to my extremities. My mind was made up. It would serve me better to spend my life hating someone rather than feeling sorry for myself.

  (But forgive me, dear Lord.)

  I was going to take back Shigeki from that woman no matter what. I refused to share Shigeki.

  (But what am I supposed to do?)

  As usual, I was in the garden, with paintbrush in hand. Raiki was absorbed by a parade of ants.

  “Do the ants live underground?”

  “You bet. They have a house down there, and it’s huge with many, many rooms.”

  “It’s so dark underground. Can the ants see? Are they playing hide-and-seek down there?”

  I had no answer for him, knowing nothing about how ants see. It didn’t matter since Raiki didn’t really care.

  “Can we play hide-and-seek?”

  The dimly lit mansion was musty with antique furniture standing here and there, and the recesses of its corridors were even dimmer under the shade of leafy trees. It was perfect for playing hide-and-seek, so I decided to take a break and told Raiki to go hide. He gladly removed his sandals and disappeared into the depths of the house. I bided my time for the right moment before beginning my search.

  “Ready or not, here I come.”

  It took me only a few moments to discover his hiding spot—a closet cabinet was positioned in the back of a room, its double swinging doors slightly ajar. A beautiful specimen of Kamakura-style lacquerware, the cabinet contained a messy clutter of Kanako’s luxury handbags, gifts from abroad, and towels for everyday use. Photographs of ancestors, faded to a brown color, were displayed in frames that looked down from the lintel.

  “Where are you, Raiki? Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I said loudly so as not to surprise him. But in the next moment, when I opened the doors wide, I was the one who got surprised.

  Inside the closet were a cardboard box and a heap of clothing that Raiki had thrown out so that he could hide in the box. They were all undergarments, and very colorful ones at that. In fact, by all appearances, they looked like nothing but what a prostitute appearing in Western films would wear: red, black, and purple panties, and teddies with vulgar designs. The place was overflowing with them.

  “Now it’s your turn, Mom,” Raiki said with a broad smile as he stuck out his head from the box. My heart was beating fast. It felt like I had seen something I wasn’t meant to, something forbidden. I quickly put away all the underwear, worried that Kanako would show up that very minute.

  “All right, Raiki, it’s time for your nap now,” I said. “Let’s go to the other house.”

  “But why? It’s my turn to be it,” he replied, pouting. I couldn’t think of anything to say to coax him, so once everything was put away, I dragged Raiki out to the garden. Kanako was out there too. Her Venetian-glass necklace of bold red, green, and golden hues stood out, reflecting sunlight onto her navy blue dress. I was too embarrassed to meet her eyes, which were studying my drawing.

  “It would be better if you could accentuate the ambience of a dilapidated house more,” she said. “It’s nicely done, though. I’ll give you that. At any rate, I can’t wait for you to complete it, dear.”

  “Are you heading out already?” I asked.

  “Yes, I was going to get my bag.”

  She was just on her way to that room, I thought, dazed—but I quickly snapped to and asked, “Should I go get it for you?”

  “Why, you know where I keep my bag, do you? The shelf it’s on?”

  “No, oh, no. Is it in that room in the back? If you let me know, I’ll just go and get it for you.”

  “I know where,” Raiki declared. “It’s in the room with the photographs of Grandpa and Grandma, right? There were lots of bags there,” he said, looking up at me to drive home the point.

  My try at playing dumb had backfired, and I ended up digging my own grave. I couldn’t think of anything to say in return and merely looked down.

  “That’s all right,” Kanako said after staring at me for a while. “I haven’t decided which one to take along, so I’ll just go see for myself.”

  That night Kanako summoned me to her room.

  It turned out to be the beginning of a long night…

  KANAKO: ONE

  I arrived at Kanako’s room with some whiskey and water.

  She had invited me after dinner, saying, “Why don’t we enjoy a few drinks together?” But as Ms. Sato prepared the drinks, she warned me, saying, “Madam Kanako was born into a sake maker’s family. She will drink you under the table.” And then she whispered into my ear, “Mind you, if she brings up that story, please be sure to behave as though you are hearing it for the first time.”

  When I entered her room, Kanako was seated before her dresser, wearing a lemon-yellow bathrobe. She had just taken a shower. The room was decorated in a modern Italian style. The curtains and bedcover were both the same shade of pale green, and the dresser was an elegant piece inlaid with an elaborate floral pattern. There was absolutely nothing in here that conjured Kanako’s mother, unlike the antique darkness of the lacquered Kamakura-bori cabinet, where you could practically feel her presence.

  Kanako was devoted to skin care. Her makeup had been compl
etely washed off with cream, and her clean face now showed the signs of her true age, exposing her crow’s feet, sagging cheeks, and red spots.

  “It’s so dreadful—all these blemishes worsen with age.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Mother. There’s nothing to worry about; they’re barely noticeable.”

  “I’m thinking about having work done to fix them.”

  “You mean laser treatment?”

  “Not really,” she said, picking up her glass and stirring the drink with a swizzle stick. “The treatment involves having my entire face exposed to a beam of light that makes the melanin embedded deep inside the skin rise, and once it’s surfaced, that’s when it will be removed. In essence, the treatment eliminates the root cause.”

  She then fell silent for a while. I had no intention of hiding the fact that I had seen her belongings inside that cabinet. If pressed, I intended to apologize. I waited for her next move.

  “Since you’ve arrived, Raiki has become rather animated. I suppose the two of you get along well.”

  (Yes, both Raiki and I are lonely.)

  That’s what I wanted to say, but I swallowed the words. If I had said such a thing, it would have seemed as if I were blaming someone, and I would have become even more lost—as lonely as a person can be. But then again, Kanako was even lonelier than I was. Her desolation was a world beyond my imagination.

  I let the whiskey burn and numb my throat before saying, “What kind of a person was Father-in-Law?”

  Kanako met my eyes for the first time and said with a slightly ironic smile, “Well, let’s see. He was arrogant, domineering, a womanizer, and above all else, he hated me. He would humiliate me by treating me like a whore, and by demonstrating total control he would reaffirm his place in the world and make a show of his authority and power. That’s all he was capable of doing, really, that pathetic nonperson.”