The Last Leaves Falling

by Sarah Benwell

  Which makes no sense, even to me, but it is true.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s hard, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She continues, “Watching someone suffer, watching them die, it changes you.”

  “Yes.”

  I think she suggests strategies that I could use to cope—write poetry, or go for long walks underneath the trees—but I don’t really hear.

  “Doctor? Does it . . . have to be that way?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way Yamada-san ended.” I want to tell her about the Dying with Dignity, the SWAT teams. I want to ask her, Is this thing for me? Will they help when it is time? “Does it have to be like that? So . . .” but I don’t know how to say it.

  “Not always.” She smiles again, and it’s almost reassuring. “Everyone’s death is different.”

  I really hope she’s right.

  58

  I am actually maybe going insane imagining where those applications might be sitting right now. On a plane. In a sorting office. In a dean’s office. Oh! It’s awful.

  Tell her.

  I can’t, Sora. I . . . I have to do this.

  RIGHT. THAT’S IT. WHEN ARE YOU FREE? WE’RE GOING FISHING.

  Fishing?

  Fishing?

  YES! ALL THREE OF US. AS SOON AS WE CAN. FISHING HELPS RELAX THE MIND, RIGHT?

  I suppose.

  No relaxing of the mind for me. My mother has my tutor coming over allll weekend to practice interviews.

  :(

  Maybe next week, if I can impress her, make her think I’m ready.

  YOU CAN. YOU’RE BRILLIANT. NEXT WEEKEND THEN. :)

  59

  “This is nice, huh?”

  The three of us, Mai, Kaito, and myself, are sitting on a roof terrace in the center of the city. Below us are power lines and streets bustling with traffic, but we are in a tiny scrap of paradise: green toy grass crisscrossing a grid of deep blue pools. The silver tails and bubble-mouths of koi flick across the surface. There are a few other people here, mostly by themselves, staring deep into the water, but it doesn’t matter. It might as well be our own private world.

  “Yes.”

  Mai leans back on her hands, stretches out her legs so that they cast shadows out across the water.

  A curious carp nuzzles the surface, perhaps thinking she has food.

  “Yeah,” Kaito sighs, and jiggles his plastic rod.

  “You won’t catch anything like that,” Mai giggles.

  Across the terrace a business man cheers, noisily, as his catch is weighed and then released back into the pool. There is a game to be played up here: fish for prizes, and that guy just won big.

  “I had you marked as the competitive type, Kai,” I say, remembering conversations about bonus levels and epic fights.

  “Out here, no. This place isn’t about scores. It’s about the bigger catch.”

  “The what?”

  “The bigger catch.”

  She looks across at him blankly.

  “Life.”

  “Ohh . . . wait. Isn’t it about escaping life for a while?”

  “Yes. But I don’t mean that. I mean, this, here, us . . . It’s not about the game, it’s the experience of sitting here, on fake grass, high up in the clouds, and talking to your friends.”

  Mai smiles serenely, and dips a toe into the water.

  I imagine the emperor-fish swimming beneath her. Although he could never live in a place like this, I think he would approve of us taking the time to be.

  We sit for a while. Kaito sips from a soda can, and Mai leans back and stares up at the sky.

  “There’s a dragon!” she says, pointing to a giant fluffy cloud.

  I crane to see. “That’s no dragon. It’s an elephant.”

  “No way!”

  “It is far too plump to be a dragon! Don’t you think, Kai?”

  “Nooo,” she protests, “it’s a very well-fed dragon. He ate lots of sheep-clouds. And foolish nay-saying teenagers.”

  “All right, all right. It’s a dragon!” I concede.

  “Thank-you!” she chirps. “And that one’s a—aaurgh!” She bolts upright, frantically wiping her face. “That was rain!”

  As I look up, the dragon-elephant is swept away, replaced by a roiling black sky, and before we have a chance to move, it falls.

  Mai screams, covering her head with bare arms. Rain rumbles against concrete and water and plastic. It pockmarks skin and flattens clothes in seconds.

  “Let’s go!” Mai scrambles for our things as Kaito hits my brakes, and we run for the awning at the far end of the rooftop.

  We huddle, along with a few sad-looking businessmen in water-heavy ties, shivering as the rain hammers at the plastic overhead. Mai hugs herself tightly, and Kai shifts from one foot to the other. We’re wet, and cold, and sticky-heavy-gross. And as I watch the water bouncing off the tumultuous pools, I laugh.

  “What?”

  “It’s just . . . it’s not about the game. It’s about—” I snicker, and when I finally muster the breath to speak, my friends’ voices join mine: “The experience.”

  60

  “Oh my goodness, Sora! What happened to you?”

  “It rained.” I cannot keep the smile from my lips as I remember the feel of it against my skin, and the three of us huddled together like penguins.

  “I can see that. Didn’t you take shelter? You’re soaked right through!”

  “It was fast.” I shrug.

  “For goodness’ sake. Come inside. You need to get out of those clothes. I’m sorry”—she nods toward my friends—“but Sora has to go now.”

  My friends step back and let her bustle me inside.

  “That’s all right. We’ll see you soon, Sora,” Kaito mumbles. My mother is already closing the door.

  “Mama!”

  “You’re shivering, Sora.”

  She peels my jacket from my skin, and I see the gooseflesh on my arms. She’s right. And I feel it, all at once, a cold that reaches right into the marrow of my bones. How did I not feel cold before?

  “Come on. Let’s get you to the shower.”

  She wheels me to the bathroom and turns on the water before removing my T-shirt and helping me stand. My jeans feel like they hold a lake of water, and I wonder how my mother lifts me up, but with my weight leaning against her, she unbuttons my jeans and helps me out of them before setting me back into my chair and pushing me beneath the warm jets of the shower.

  “Can you manage?” she asks.

  Truthfully, it is getting harder. The soap is slippery, and my arms are weak and stupid. But I am not ready for that yet. Besides, all I want is to get warm.

  I nod, and she steps outside.

  I sit, let the water hug my skull and pour over my back until I notice just how cold my legs are, and I twist a little so the water can warm them, too.

  The water from the shower feels nothing like the rain. Not just warmer. Softer, too. As though it’s freshly laundered. I sit here, the water warming me through piece by piece, and imagine Kaito and Mai and me sitting not in the rain but in a sauna, staring at steam clouds on the ceiling.

  That one is a baby! Look!

  Warm water traces the outline of my smile.

  Finally, when I’m sure the shivering has stopped, I shut the water off and reach for the towel hanging on the door. I rub myself down as best I can with clumsy hands. “Ready, Mama.”

  And my mother slides back into the room, ready to help me dress.

  Ten minutes later, we are in the kitchen and my mother passes me a cup of tea.

  “Here. To warm you on the inside.”

  “Thanks.” I take a sip. She has sweetened it with honey.

  I sip, and sip, and my mother leans her head against her hands and watches me.

  “Better?” she asks after a moment.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Good. You know, I was worried about you for a while, b
ut you seem to have made good with those two.”

  Even though I came back soaked and freezing?

  I do not think my mother knows how to be sarcastic. . . .

  “Yes.”

  “Yes. I like them. Especially the girl.” My mother smiles extra broadly, and the air hums with the insinuation.

  Oh.

  “Mama, we’re just friends, that’s all.” I picture Mai, twirling across the street. I see her in the ice-cream shop, hiding her smile behind both hands as she laughs. But my words are true. I want nothing more from her.

  “And quite right. But if you were to choose a girl, you should go for one like that.”

  “Mother!” I protest, but I do not really mind. It is a long time since we’ve talked like this.

  “All right, all right. Anyway, I approve. There is a color to your cheeks tonight, and I do not think it’s just the cold. I think they’re good for you.”

  And I think perhaps she’s right.

  61

  It is Monday, less than twenty-four hours since I saw my friends, but I miss them already. As I wait for them to finish with their days and reappear online, I imagine us walking through school hallways side by side, sharing jokes, swapping notes. My chair wouldn’t matter. Nothing would. It would be so obvious that I belonged there with them that nobody would bat an eye.

  I wish.

  At least we have the Internet. And today, Mai cheers me up the second she appears.

  Hiiiii! Before we do anything else, I just want to say . . .

  You guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. <3 <3 <3 (-:

  :-) Me too.

  HI GUYS! DID I MISS ANYTHING? SORRY I’M LATE, I WAS AT A CLUB MEETING!

  You’re not late.

  What club?

  I JOINED THE COMPUTER CLUB! :D

  Oooh, look at you, Mister Programmer.

  I KNOW! THE SOCIETY OF GAMERS KICKED ME OUT, SO I NEEDED TO FIND ANOTHER CLUB.

  Ah, I’m sorry.

  I’M NOT. THEY’RE RIGHT. I HAVEN’T BEEN PLAYING MUCH. AND THERE’S NO POINT BEING THERE IF I CAN’T ARGUE ABOUT NEW RELEASES OR BEAT THEIR SCORES.

  Haha, okay. So. They kicked you out and you joined Computer Club instead?

  YEP.

  How was it?

  I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE TERRIBLE. I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FULL OF AWKWARD NERDS AND NOBODY WOULD TALK TO ME AND THEY’D ALL THINK I WAS DUMB.

  hehehe

  WHAT? O_O

  Well, it’s just . . .

  You ARE kind of a nerd, K. <3

  YEAH, BUT THESE ARE SERIOUS NERDS. NERDS WITH QUALIFICATIONS. THEY CAN DO STUFF. BUT THEY’RE SO COOL! AND NONE OF THEM MINDED THAT I’M ONLY A BEGINNER. AND THEY’RE GOING TO SHOW ME HOW TO MAKE BETTER THINGS!

  That’s brilliant!

  ANYWAY, MAI’S RIGHT. IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU BOTH, I WOULD NEVER HAVE THOUGHT TO GO IN THERE. NEVER HAD THE CONFIDENCE TO EITHER.

  Awwww ^_^ <3

  That’s great, Kai.

  YEAH :D :D :D

  OH, ALSO . . . LOOK:

 

  USERNAME

  TAGLINE

  AGE

  GENDER

  INTERESTS

  I THOUGHT IT WAS TIME TO LET THE WORLD KNOW WHO I AM.

  62

  To: S . . .

  From: O_K_H@ . . .

  Subject: I AM S E NDIN G YOU THIS MESSAGE SITTING in the hAllway wearing my pajamas. Not even dressed! I HOPEYOUA re well.

  * * *

  Ojiisan/.

  To: O_K_H@ . . .

  From: S . . .

  Subject: Your first reply!

  * * *

  Dear Ojiisan!

  You did it! I’m e-mailing you from my room. I’m not in my pajamas, though. You win.

  Now that you’ve figured out how to e-mail, we can take over the world much faster. Brilliant!

  Sora

  P.S. Have you tried the mah-jongg yet?

  To: S . . .

  From O_K_H@ . . .

  Subject: MAH-JONGG

  * * *

  WOW! SO FAST! I THINK MAYBE THESE ELECTRONIC MAILS ARE ACTUALLY CARRIED BY RAIJIN. THEY ARE QUICKER THAN LIGHTNING!

  AND YES BUT YOUR GRANDMOTHER KEEPS YELLING THAT THE COMPUTER DOES NOT KNOW ALL THE RULES AND THAT IT’S CHEATING IN MY FAVOR. SHE’S JUST JEALOS BECAUSE I ALWAYS WIN.

  OJIISAN

  “Hey, Mama, Ojiisan’s entered the twenty-first century!”

  “What?”

  “It’s true, look.” I pull up the e-mails on my phone and hold them out to her.

  “Oh my! Your grandfather? On a computer? On the Internet? Do you realize what you’ve done, Sora? The world’s a thousand times less safe than it was yesterday!” But beneath the shock and horror, I think that’s a grin.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Sure, if you like your in-box filled with questions about the air pollution and whether you’ve asked for a raise yet.”

  “It’s okay, I told him how to search, too. He can find at least half of it out himself. He’ll never have to ask you!”

  She smirks. “Did I ever tell you about the time your grandfather took out the whole street’s electricity?”

  “No!”

  “Oh yes. He bought a new electric saw for his shed. It was fast and shiny and it whirred when you switched it on. Absolutely lethal. But your grandfather loved the idea that he could do six times as many projects for the same amount of time . . . but that wasn’t enough. He found out a way to make it faster.”

  “Eeee!”

  “Exactly. So he tinkered, and it was faster, but when applied to actual wood, when it had to cut things . . . it exploded. Took out the power for a week.”

  Whoa.

  She sighs. “This is going to be like that. He’ll probably break the Internet.”

  Is she joking? I can’t tell.

  “Oh, and Sora? I am fielding any and all tech queries to you.”

  63

  So I got an e-mail today, from Yale.

  OH, MAI!

  Jealousy drops into my stomach like a stone. And then it’s gone. I can’t be jealous of Mai.

  And they want to interview me. It’s a video-conference interview, and my mother’s already planning cue cards. She says she’ll sit behind the webcam and help make sure I give myself the best possible chance. I’m doomed to success!

  And I can’t do it. I just CAN’T.

  Are you up for meeting? I need ice cream.

  YES!

  Absolutely!

  64

  I just don’t understand why you won’t tell her, Mai. I’m sorry.

  You wouldn’t, would you?

  I stare at the words. Stung.

  I’m sorry?

  It’s just . . . you don’t have to worry about any of this.

  What?

  No. I don’t. But I wish I fucking did.

  Silence.

  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded. I just . . .

  Yes?

  She hesitates again.

  I can’t do it, Sora. I can’t.

  Why?

  Because of everything. Because my mother expects the best from me, and she worries, and she has invested time and money and she’s right, it’s hard, and irresponsible, and I can’t do anything else, but every time I think of pulling out I think of you, and all those schools, their history and dusty stupid books, and how you should be there. You should be going and you won’t, but I can and I . . . I have to go. Don’t you see?

  Oh, Mai.

  No.

  No.

  Please, no.

  That’s my dream, not yours. And if you want to do something for me, you follow that. The last thing that I want is for you to wear a dream that doesn’t fit.

  Please.

  Ehhhhhh.

  Please? If you have to do this, don’t do it for me.

  65

  “Mama?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Have you ever been to a funeral?”


  It was a long, late night for me, and I think she heard me. She peers at me with one eye open. “Sora—”

  “Have you? Please? I want to know.”

  She takes a long, deep sip of coffee. “Yes.”

  “Whose was it?”

  “I’m tired, Sora, and I have to go to work.”

  “Please?”

  “My Uncle Shiro. And your great grandparents.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Sora.”

  I can imagine. Of course I can. I know how they prepare the body, hold a wake, where everyone who comes gives and receives gifts. I know about the incense and the payment for the River of Three Hells. The verses that the priest recites, the renaming, the picking of the bones.

  I can imagine grief. Heartache. Duty.

  But I do not know, and Mama is not talking.

  66

  HEY YOU TWO!

  Hiiii!

  gvh

  Delete.

  huy

  Delete.

  I try and I try, but my fingers will not work, will not operate the keys. It’s like they’re dead and wooden, and ten times their usual size.

  SORA?

  YOU THERE?

  uydess

  Three days ago, I was just a little clumsy. Tired.

  Yuwsss

  DAMN IT! Why won’t you even type one simple word?

  I hate you I hate you I hate you!

  I hit the keyboard harder, as though sheer force could will the words onto my screen. But it does not.

  Come on!

  I just. Want. To say. Hello.

  It isn’t hard.

  When tears of frustration sting my cheeks, Yamada-san flashes through my mind—the panic, breathlessness—and I realize that this isn’t helping. I need my fingers to be calm and steady. I lift my hands away from the keyboard and I breathe. In. Out. Slowly as I can.

  In. Out.

  In. I stretch my fingers, feel the pull of reluctant tendons. I grab my right hand with my left and guide a pointed finger toward the keys.