Cal sounded sheepish when Rita demanded to speak with him. It turned out that he’d been dabbling in a little do-it-yourself renovation. (“And who was watching our daughter, while you were doing all this?” Oh right, he had built-in child care, otherwise known as his new girlfriend.) In the course of putting up a wall, Cal had somehow managed to sever a pipe. Should have stuck with what he was good at: root canals. The place ended up flooded. Under other circumstances, it would be quite funny. But poor Kristen. She sounded stuffed up, as though she were coming down with a cold already.
“You sure you’re all right, Pumpkin? You don’t have to stay there if it’s uncomfortable.”
“Where’ll I go?”
“I’ll fly to Vancouver and come get you, of course!”
“Oh, I’m all right. Jodi’s making me a grilled cheese sandwich.”
Heat flared through Rita’s cheeks. With a great deal of effort, she managed to say, “Well, that’s nice of her to put you guys up. Jodi sounds like a nice lady.”
“She is. I think you’d really like her, Mommy.”
Yeah, right. Not in a thousand years. “Make sure Daddy buys you new shoes, sweetie. Something really expensive, okay?”
Rita was trying not to get too bent out of shape. A couple hours ago, a stream of little kids in sun hats had bobbed past her window on the way home from day camp, and now they were followed by the plodding feet of their dads. Normally, she wasn’t like this at all. She wasn’t the type of woman who sat around waiting for some guy to maybe call her. But it was the fact that Mark had allied himself with her endeavour to find Lily, combined with the reality that she was feeling rather old and out of practice when it came to etiquette after a casual hookup, combined with her disturbing conversations with Gerald and Kristen and the thick, fuzzy layer of a sleepless night wrapped around her brain.
Finally, Rita called the number he’d jotted on the edge of a paper towel.
Although she expected an answering machine, Mark answered on the second ring. “The library. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
“Everything all right, Mark? Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“Not at all. It’s just that I got detained by some students after class. It’s supposed to be summer term, but these kids aren’t your usual slackers. All stressed out over the mid-term. They talked my ear off and left me so exhausted it slipped my mind, our library meeting.”
His voice sounded guarded, artificially friendly, yet impersonal, as though someone were there listening to his every word. The mere fact that he said “library meeting,” rather than “library date” seemed telling, but maybe she was over-scrutinizing
A strident voice in the background strangled off as he muffled the receiver. Someone was there. A woman? Did Mark live with someone? His wife?
She hadn’t noticed any wedding ring. That didn’t mean shit, of course. Lots of men chose not to wear them. Cal said it cut off his circulation.
Her cheeks stung with surprise, humiliation. “Look, I should probably let you go. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full at the moment.”
“Wait, the library — I really do want to help, Rita. If you don’t mind, though, can we postpone ’til tomorrow?”
“Of course, no big deal.” She hated how her voice sounded overly bright. “Tomorrow morning, fine. Ten o’clock at Robarts.” She might have been on the phone with the receptionist at a doctor’s office, rather than the guy who’d licked every inch of her body just hours ago, right down to her baby toes.
Seventeen
Things had been smelling stronger, more vivid. Not in a good way. Normally, Lily loved a cup of tea first thing in the morning, but now disgust crawled over her. The milk was rancid, that must be it. Come to think of it, all food smelled a bit off. Her own loins, too: sickly sweet, fermented odours emanated up from between her thighs.
And yet she was ravenously hungry. No matter how much she ate or drank, however, she couldn’t wash the rust taste from her teeth.
Her breasts had grown veiny and bovine, nipples fluttering with an urge to be pulled at, licked, bitten.
Was this how it felt to be …?
She told herself no, no. It couldn’t be.
The wail of someone’s baby filled the walls of the hospital. The wretched cry worked its way into her brain. A tight, panicked feeling wrapped around her womb, her wayward womb….
She’d been ignoring it for days, for weeks, unable to face how her body was changing. But the willful ignorance she’d been wrapping herself in couldn’t block the truth forever.
“Aunt Haruko, I think I’m —”
“Yes.” Grey cheeks downcast.
“What … what am I going to …?”
“Does Kaz know?”
Lily shook her head. She needed to find him.
“And the doctor?”
“No.” Telling him would be even harder, more horrible.
Or would it?
Surely, he’d help her. He’d know what to do. Maybe he’d be happy, slightly. Babies gave people hope. Kaz just needs to grow up and take responsibility. Wasn’t that what the doctor had said?
That evening, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. The next day she geared herself up to pull the doctor aside, but the hospital was so busy she never got the chance.
It was dusk by the time things slowed down. Curled up in a chair against the wall, she succumbed to a wave of fatigue.
Her eyes fluttered open. Creaks. Shifting feet at the end of the hall. Through the gauze of her sleep-crusted lashes, she could see shadows spilling like translucent curtains. A door inched open. It was the little room where she used to do ikebana, where she and Kaz had once made love in the flush of dawn. She never went in there these days.
The doctor slipped out into a wedge of sepia light. He carried a tray of empty dishes and a silver bedpan.
When she jumped up to help him, he looked up and jerked back — a waterfall of shi-shi sloshed onto the floor.
“Who’s in there?”
Her first instinct was it must be Kaz. The doctor was sheltering him from interrogation or arrest. Kaz was in hiding. Relief glided over her. She could tell them both the news about the baby right now.
“Lily.” The doctor shook droplets from his palm.
“I want to know.”
“Keep your voice down.”
She made a move to slip around him, but he blocked her way. If she pushed past, everything in his arms risked clattering to the ground.
“It’s not what you think.” A terrified whisper. “I had to keep Frank here. He begged me. The camp bosses said it’s for the best.”
“Frank Isaka?” Her heart plunged.
“Who else?”
“But I thought … I thought …” What had she thought? Out of sight, out of mind. Hadn’t the doctor said Frank’s injuries hadn’t been that serious? So she’d wanted to believe he’d recovered and gone on his merry way. He was back on the lecture circuit, touring the country, singing the praises of the JACC.
“Frank’s been here all along. No one knows. Howells told me to keep it under wraps. Everyone thinks his injuries were so severe he had to be transferred to the hospital in town.”
“You’re keeping him here to protect him?” It was the first time she’d thought of the hospital as a refuge.
“What choice did I have? The beating stirred things up, all over. A lot of people have it in for Frank.”
The doctor felt responsible for his fate, she could smell it in the yeasty, putrid air between them. Because he knew it had been Kaz who’d delivered the beating.
“How long are you planning to keep him hidden here?”
“As long as it takes, I guess.”
“As long as it takes for what?”
“I don’t know.”
She’d never seen the doctor look so u
nsteady; the feeble, old man he was going to become had emerged in pencil outline all over his face.
She knocked hesitantly. “It’s me. Lily. Won’t you please let me in, Frank?”
Something grated across the floor inside, a chair being pushed away.
As she entered, Frank scurried back into bed. The small, pallid face with purple bruises around the eyes startled her. He was like a feral animal — cornered, frenzied, yet oddly resigned. What had become of this guy’s confident, arrogant air? The brightness and vigour that used to infuse his cheeks? All those snappy slogans that had sprung from his lips? Now they were slack, crusted with spittle. She’d never noticed the narrowness of his shoulders. In her mind, Frank Isaka had been a muscular, athletic fellow. The room smelled of deadness, decay — all the foul odours of an unwashed, uncared-for body.
In the corner, perched atop a crate, were the remains of one of her flower arrangements: a pile of yellowish slackened leaves. Not so long ago it had been alive. All her greenery had been laid out on this very cot.
She tried to smile. The tray lurched in her hands, cutlery clattering. She set it down atop a stack of books. “You have to believe I had no idea this was going to happen.”
“Of course you didn’t, Lily. How could you? We were being followed. If you hadn’t run for help, who knows whether I’d still be breathing!”
Where she’d expected accusation and distrust in his eyes, there was only gratitude and helplessness. She felt sickened.
“You’re a good person, Lily. Not like those masked cowards.” He licked his lips and a hint of pinkness flowed back. “It’s like Swift says. Ever read Gulliver’s Travels?” He gestured at the book. “What can I do if, like Gulliver, my crew chooses to mutiny? After all I’ve done to help them survive, how do they repay me? By turning against me. By holding me captive, by deserting me, by continuing on with their depraved lives as a bunch of pirates!” Saliva ribbons flew outward as the bruises on his cheekbones emitted a crazed glow.
So it seemed he didn’t know. Could it be possible that he really didn’t know? For he’d made no mention of Kaz, Shig, or Akira. Frank was so cut off from the everyday goings-on that he had no idea who had it in for him.
“Who did this to you?”
“Yahoos, of course. They’re all a bunch of yahoos. Base, humanoid creatures — incapable of ruling themselves, of ruling anything!”
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but he wasn’t pointing the finger at Kaz. Or her. He looked at her like he believed she was on his side. Like she was still a nice, pure girl.
And maybe it was true — maybe she really hadn’t known what Kaz had been planning when she’d lured Frank to that desolate place. But she had known in her gut, hadn’t she? The stillness of the air, touched by the sting of animal potency, of furry, sweaty, musky haunches, a smell she’d become all too familiar with — of course, she’d known it was him, it was Kaz, waiting in ambush, she must have known — but, but wasn’t it also true that she’d only been there to protect Kaz at the doctor’s request? This other, fading voice ribboned through the noise: sweet, innocent, brimming with hope. The voice of the Strong One. Mother’s good little girl. The mewl of the baby in her own belly.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Just sit with me, Lily. Read to me, please.”
She expected to see more FBI agents. After all Frank had been through, shouldn’t someone be under the gun to find out who was responsible?
Something had changed, that much was obvious. The G-men had been desperate to cast blame on Kenny Honda. This time around, however, they had no ringleader to point fingers at. Yet they didn’t even seem to be looking — that was the strangest part. No one hounded Lily with questions. No one roamed the halls of the hospital.
“Why isn’t the FBI doing more? Aren’t you worried they’ll need to pin the attack on somebody?”
“Not really.” The doctor gave a weary shrug. “Frank Isaka might like to believe the camp admin will look out for him. Truth is they’re quite happy to look the other way, chalk this one up to a fist fight gone too far. They’re tired of the bad publicity this camp’s been getting. The sooner they empty the place out, the better.”
More barracks were being dismantled. It was amazing how quickly these flimsy buildings could be turned into heaps of scrap. So it was all coming to an end. Their life here would soon be no more. And she’d be … where? Somewhere else. Somewhere better. The doctor, Aunt Haruko, Lily, Kaz, the baby. They’d be a family no different than any other family, and her child would remember nothing of this awful place.
Despite the busloads leaving each week, plenty of tired, disgruntled folks remained to gather at the firebreak to scheme and cause trouble. Every afternoon they were out there. Kaz must be in the thick of it, stirring up dissent. While some people were in an uproar that Frank was still alive, others were upset that the camp admin wasn’t doing more to apprehend his attacker. Caught up in the whirl of collective action, these differences melted away.
She needed to find Kaz. She still hadn’t told him about the baby. Ever since her discovery of Frank, that little life inside her felt insubstantial, unreal.
She hadn’t been sleeping well, her dreams turbulent, desperate. Images of great crashing waves, the water lapping at her ankles. As it pulled outward, her toes sank into the mealy sand.
The tide. Before she knew it, the water had crept up to her thighs, hips, womb. And yet she couldn’t move, all sensation in her legs suddenly lost, the icy water a strange anaesthetic.
Then she was flapping wildly, trying to propel herself forward, lugging the dead weight of her pitiful, useless body. Waves surged up and pummelled her in the face, knocking her into the undertow, and when she fought her way up for a gulp of air, the last thing she saw before awaking was a small, white dolphin, jumping through a misty spray.
She spent her evenings at Frank’s bedside, feeding him soup and reading aloud from Gulliver’s Travels. The weird, fantastical tales filled her with anxious awareness of how unknowable the world would always be.
“Do you ever wonder what you’ll do after the war’s over, Frank?”
“What makes you think the war’ll ever end?”
“They say it’s ending right now. We’re going back to our real lives soon.”
“Real lives.” He snorted, fiddled a finger in his ear, as though he were trying to dig out a long-dead fly.
A low rumble in the distance. The rise and fall of shouting voices. Patter of feet from behind. The doctor’s once confident stride, now reduced to a scurry. Without even turning around, she could sense his taut posture, his grief-stricken expression.
“Do you hear that, Lily?”
She nodded, surprised he could hear it, too. So these voices were real, not just in her head. They were chanting something in English or Japanese, she couldn’t be sure which. “Banzai!” rose above the din. It was getting louder, like a drumbeat.
Lily and the doctor ran upstairs to the windows facing east. People were gathered at the firebreak by the hundreds, possibly thousands. Several thousands? They resembled an army of ants — jostling, roiling black heads packed tightly together. They were swarming around a stage, where several leaders appeared full of energy and rancour.
“There have been more arrests, Lily. People are very upset.”
“Was Kaz arrested?”
“No. Shig and his older brother.”
“Toyo? That’s crazy. He’s never had anything to do with this.”
“Who knows whether he has? This morning there was another skirmish when some guys attacked a bunch of evacuee police officers. One of the officers is in critical condition. Howells has ordered the military to be on standby.”
The military? She tried to get her head around what the doctor was telling her. He might have been talking through the fog of a dream.
“Lil
y? Are you all right?”
She nodded, shook her head.
“You’ve got to stay with me. I can’t have you fainting now. There’s something I need you to do — Lily, do you hear me?”
Her brain came unfrozen, everything rebounding with startling vividness. “I’m fine. What is it?”
“You need to wake up Frank and hide him. That crowd is after his blood.”
“Where … where am I supposed to hide him?”
“Look around the ward. See what you can find.” Although the doctor tried to keep his voice calm, the note of panic was unmistakable. “The important thing is that you do it now.”
Gazing out the window, she saw what had him so agitated. The crowd had started moving, heading toward the hospital.
Eighteen
Rita planned to arrive at the library a good fifteen minutes late. At a coffee shop near the subway she killed time, staring out at the sidewalk, blotched with patches of drizzle. Mark was an ass. He probably wouldn’t even show up. So she’d better just assume nothing would work out between them and keep her eye on the real target: Lily.
Turning onto St. George, she walked past a hodgepodge of U of T buildings, departments so small and esoteric that an entire faculty could be crammed into these turreted, ivy-covered houses. At the end of the block loomed Robarts Library, a massive concrete building that had always made her think of a Lego castle.
She entered a dim lobby. At the far end escalators zigzagged up and down. Aside from a few grad students, who looked like they hadn’t seen sunlight in years, the place was deserted.
Ah, there he was. Hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans, lost in thought, shaggy tendrils still damp from the shower. From this place of invisibility, she enjoyed watching Mark — but then he saw her. His face lit up as the distance between them closed, and she couldn’t help but feel that crazy, half-dead fish in her stomach. He kissed her on the side of the lips: a disturbingly ambiguous kiss that could perhaps pass as merely friendly (if he were European) or be interpreted as a real kiss that had swerved off course at the last second.
After the Bloom Page 19
