The Hole

by Hiroko Oyamada

  “By the way, it’s probably best if you don’t tell anyone we met. Not Mom, definitely not Muneaki. They wouldn’t be happy about it. I don’t care what they think of me, but it’d be unfortunate if they took that out on you. Of course, it’s your choice to make . . .” Tomiko’s face came back to me, clear as day. Then, breaking off from that image, my husband’s face resurfaced. There was no reason to think I knew the truth about everything. Sure, no one dragged me here against my will. I wasn’t unhappy, I wasn’t dissatisfied. I knew what I was getting into. But that doesn’t mean I knew everything. Why couldn’t I hear the cicadas back here? “Are you really Muneaki’s brother?” I asked in a voice I didn’t recognize. “Sure am. Can’t blame you for asking, but you’re just asking, right? I mean, if you didn’t believe me, if you thought I was suspicious, you would have already run off to alert the authorities. Then again, I guess it’s hard to trust your eyes on this. After all, Muneaki and I look nothing alike. I don’t really look like my mom or my dad either. I can’t imagine you’ve seen much of him anyway. He’s got to be as busy as ever. I haven’t seen his car for a little while, but he’s still kicking, isn’t he? Last I saw, he’d just traded in for a silver Mazda. It’s always Mazdas with my old man. Always has been. The last one I ever got in was his Mazda Familiar. Pretty sure they stopped making those years ago. Leaving the house around dawn, coming home late at night . . . It’s a real sickness. Even on days off, he’s always going fishing or golfing. Otherwise he can’t relax. When we were kids and we had time off from school, he’d take us somewhere to camp or have a barbecue. I guess it isn’t just looks. Even our personalities are total opposites. But don’t you think I look like Gramps? People always said so, ever since I was a baby. Granny was always saying it. Anyway, I bet I’ll go bald within ten years. Then you’ll have all the proof you’ll need.” Something about him was strange, but he seemed completely harmless. Maybe it was his smile, which really did look a lot like Grandpa’s. His long teeth grew thicker as they moved away from the gums. His broad forehead reminded me of Grandpa’s, too. Grandpa was always wearing his big straw hat, but I could tell that there was something similar about the shape of their heads.

  The man who said he was my brother-in-law licked his bottom lip, then the top one, before yanking his arm out of the wall. I heard a small voice and, for a second, saw a tiny, red hand on the other side of the hole. When he saw me spring back, the man stood up and looked me in the eye. “Don’t worry, it’s just a game we like to play, me and the shrimp. Wait, no, I can’t call him that. He’ll bite my head off. He’s a proud one, my buddy next door. Anyway, it was time for us to call it quits. It’s blazing hot out. Just look . . .” He held his hands out for me to see. The one that had been in the wall was bright red, but the other was weirdly pale. I bet his body temperature runs low. It’s the same for my husband, even though he’s always complaining about the heat. Sometimes in the morning, he’s so cold I almost wonder if he’s dead. Maybe it’s something they have in common — as brothers. I tried looking for the kid on the other side of the wall, but didn’t see anyone. I didn’t know if he’d run off or was just hiding, but I could sense some kind of heat, like there was something there. The man shrugged. “Poor guy. He’s always on his own. His old lady’s no spring chicken and his dad’s always tied up at work. Kindergarten wasn’t any good for him either, so they had to pull him. Real shame. He’d honestly be better off with me looking after him.” The Seras’ house was quiet. The bright yellow objects on the lawn were a pair of children’s rubber boots. “Okay now.” The man flipped his hand over, looked at his fingernails, then brushed his fingers against the sides of his shirt.

  “Tell me about you. Who are you? How’d you find yourself here?” “Huh? Uh, there was this black animal just now . . .” “Oh, him?” The man was pointing at a round hole in the ground covered with a metal grill. “He’s in there.” “Huh? The animal’s in there?” I craned my neck, but all I could see were long white objects in the darkness. “What are those white . . .” “They’re fangs. I know it’s cute how they curl, but they’re really sharp. They’re practically weapons.” “Fangs?” That animal had fangs? Then again, how would I know? I didn’t know anything. “What kind of animal is it?” The man shrugged again. “Beats me.” I could see the outline of his bony shoulders inside his baggy shirt. “But I know all about him. If you want to know about his behavior or personality, I could tell you anything you’d want to know. Of course, all that would be based on my personal observations.” “Personal observations?” The man broke into a grin. “This hole is our old well. The house was built over a lot of water. The bottom of the well’s been filled in with concrete, so you can’t get any water out of it now . . . But anyway, he seems to like it down there. I guess this hole is a lot like the ones he digs. When he crawls down there, he’ll go to sleep. It’s not like he’s here every night, but he’s definitely down there a few nights a week. Whenever I see him down there, I cover the thing up,” he said, kicking at the metal. A centipede crawling across the grating slipped under in a panic. “Then he’s trapped. You can’t get the lid off unless you put a finger in there and lift, but this guy’s a smart one. He can push it open with his fangs . . . If you’re wondering why I bother putting the cover on when he’s only going to get out again, I’m afraid I don’t have a good answer for you. I guess I’m just hoping he’ll eventually decide to settle down and stay put. He digs his own holes, but when he finds an open one, he gets lazy and crawls inside.” I had my eye on the white objects on the other side of the metal, but they weren’t moving. They didn’t look like fangs — or any other animal part — at least not any part that belonged to the creature I’d seen out front. Whatever I was staring at, I had the feeling it had been there for a long time. The bright sunlight didn’t reach inside the hole. I tried to find the animal’s eyes, but couldn’t. Over time, even the fangs disappeared in the darkness. “Have you ever looked it up?” “Looked it up?” “You know, on the Internet. Searched for ‘black animal,’ ‘fangs’ . . .” “What for?” he asked, his head tilted to the side. “I’ve never used the Internet. I don’t have a computer. No television either. I think I get how it works, though. I’ve seen it in comics. What about you? Do you have a device like that?” I nodded. “Huh. So, what does that get you? Looking it up.” “You can learn about the animal. Its name, important facts . . .” But, as I spoke, I realized the search wouldn’t yield any results. With generic keywords like that, you’d probably get a million hits — none of which would have anything to do with this animal. But even if it did, how would I know? Beyond that, even if I managed to figure things out — what kind of animal it is, what it eats, how long it lives, how it’s evolved — what would I do with that information? I guess that wasn’t really what I wanted to know. I could smell something coming from the hole, but it didn’t smell like an animal. It smelled more like grass. Maybe it was water. Old, underground water mixed with mold, algae, and tree roots.

  I stepped timidly onto the metal circle. It was almost exactly the same size as the hole by the river. Maybe it really was the animal in there. No, it had to be. I was about to ask another question when the man broke into a grin and said, “Oh, wait! Now I remember. You came into the convenience store the other day, didn’t you? There were kids all over the place, and you found yourself in a bit of a bind. I did what I could to help. Had to do something, right?” I got the feeling he was waiting for me to thank him, so I obliged. He smiled again and said, “No, no. It was my pleasure.” I could see all of his teeth. “When I saw you at the store, I had no idea you were Mune’s bride. So I take it you’re not fond of kids. More interested in animals, right? Are you scared of children? Or is it the other way around? You love them? When people are indifferent to kids, you can really see it. They’ll act the same whether they’re around kids or not. That’s how it is with the guy who works construction. He comes into the convenience store to get his lunch, but it’s like he doesn’t even see
them. He just steps over them or pushes them out of the way to grab what he needs. But you — you just froze. If you act that way, kids are bound to react. They feed off that stuff. They’re not trying to be mean or anything. They’re just bored. They’re good kids. All of them. They love playing by the river. You must have gone past the spot on your way to the store . . . This place. Talk about the middle of nowhere, right? In this day and age, walking that far just to get to the store? Well, at least it’s there now. Before the store opened, the kids had to go all the way to the farmers’ co-op to get ice cream. We couldn’t read manga unless we went to the bookstore, and that’s way too far to walk. This store is a godsend! The store and the river — those are our main battlegrounds. Which probably means I’m not a real hikikomori. I like to come outside and play.”

  The man barely stopped to breathe. When he did, I said, “I fell into a hole like this the other day.” He looked almost offended. “How did that happen? Where?” “Near the river. I followed the animal and fell in . . .” “You’re not very bright, are you?” He was practically spitting at me. I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea why he was suddenly so upset. “What kind of idiot falls into a hole? Wait, was there anything in there?” I shook my head. “Well, that’s a good thing. I’d never do anything like that myself. First, it’s dangerous. Second, it’s about the stupidest thing you could do. And third, you don’t belong there — it’s totally pointless. Who do you think you are? Alice in Wonderland? You thought you’d follow a white rabbit down a hole and find yourself at the start of some big adventure? Is that what you thought would happen?” He gave an exaggerated shrug. I was shocked. His shrug looked exactly like Tomiko’s. I started to think that he really might be her son — that he might be my husband’s brother. But why would they have kept this a secret from me? Didn’t we have to tick some box when we got married saying my husband was the eldest son? Didn’t we have to fill out some form like that when we made the move out here? Maybe we didn’t. Whatever the case, if he really was my husband’s brother, then he had been carefully hidden from me. It wasn’t the sort of thing that just fails to come up. It’s not like he was an estranged uncle or a distant cousin. Can you really hide your brother’s existence from your spouse? Is it even possible? And more importantly — why would anyone do it? Were they worried about the world finding out that the family had a shut-in? Or was there more to it than that? As I imagined having to confront them about it, my mind started to drift. I tried telling myself it didn’t really matter, but it absolutely did. It’s not like we were after some huge inheritance or anything, but what if things got complicated down the line? It could happen. We could lose money — or maybe something else. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if something like that happened, but it could be a real hassle. Could this man really be my brother-in-law? Why hadn’t anyone said a word about him? What was going to happen as he got older? Was he going to keep on living in a shed in the backyard? How could I ever ask my husband about any of this? So — you have an older brother? How could I say anything to his mother? So — you have another son? I was getting depressed just thinking about it. It made me feel like an idiot. How would they feel? At the very least, they should have said something when we moved in next door. It’s not like we could live here without crossing paths. He lives in a shack right next to me — well, not that I’d ever noticed it here before today. Forget the hole. This was the bigger adventure. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” the man snorted. “That’s rich. Well I do — probably because I’m the rabbit.” “What?” “I mean, the rabbit Alice went after was no ordinary bunny. It was the Queen’s butler — her servant. Right? But, before Alice fell down the hole, it really was just a bunny. I’m sure the English countryside is positively hopping with them! You see what I mean? Before the hole, Alice was just an ordinary girl with a bit of a wild streak. But once she’s down there, it’s a different story altogether. Now the rabbit’s a real character, a working stiff with his own personality. Well, maybe he’s more middle management than anything else. He dresses like he has a pretty high station in life. I’m talking about the illustrations. In other words, this run-of-the-mill tomboy gets lost in her own fantasies — some big adventure, right? For you, that makes me the rabbit after the fall.” I couldn’t make sense of anything he was saying. Without waiting to see if I understood, he forged ahead. “Then again, that’s not your story, is it? Yours is no grand adventure. That was no rabbit you went after. It was just this guy,” the man said, pointing at the hole. The hand that had been in the wall — the one that he’d been using to play with the child next door — was now as pale as the other. “It’s just some stupid animal. Would it make you feel better if we gave him a name? I never thought he needed one, honestly. But now that there are two of us, I guess it’d be convenient if we could call him something, seeing as you want to talk and all. Using the Internet, looking things up. Why bother? We can name him ourselves. Then again, if you ask me, there’s a whole lot of things to talk about before that. After all, we’re a couple of grown-ups, aren’t we? You’re not the shrimp next door. Darn! Apologies there! You’re a man! A man among men! Anyway, where were we? Right, right. Names. What’ll it be?”

  “Me?” “Yeah, you. You’re the one who fell into that hole. What would you have done if you got stuck in there? Lived together happily ever after?” The whites of his eyes were terribly white. “I don’t know what to . . .” “It’s just a name! What’s yours?” I hesitated for a second. “It’s Asahi.” “Asahi, eh? Sounds like a cigarette brand from years and years ago. Great! So it’s settled. We’ll call him Asahi.” “What?” “Just kidding. It’s a joke. Anyway, you come up with the name. That’ll be your homework. If you can’t come up with something good, I’ll throw you in the hole, put the lid on, then cover it with a concrete block! Sorry, another joke. Did I scare you? Hey, I’m scared, too. It’s been ages since I’ve talked with somebody who wasn’t a kid.” “You mean not even Muneaki-san or your mother — not ever?” “That’s exactly what I mean. Didn’t I just say that? We don’t talk, but I can hear her all the time. The kitchen vent lets out right here. She’s always calling you Asa, so I had no idea what your actual name was. For all I knew, it could have been Asako or Asami. I never heard anyone answer, either, so I figured maybe you couldn’t talk, but that’s not the case, is it? By the way, Mom’s really put on some weight recently, hasn’t she? I can see her clothes when she has the laundry out, and it looks like she’s aiming to make it as a yokozuna, doesn’t it?”

  But wait — what was he eating every day? Where did he get his clothes and shoes? What was he doing for money? I wanted to ask, but couldn’t. Then the man clapped his hands together a couple of times. “Alright, let’s go. Down to the river. To the hole. I’ll be your guide, as a sign of our new friendship. It’s really a nice place, this river of ours. Besides, I want to see where you fell in. If it’s dangerous, we should probably fill it in. What if one of the kids fell in? They’d never make it back out. Oh wait! Let me wash my face first.” The man walked over to the sink outside the shack, wet his hands, then rubbed his face a few times. When he was done, he wiped his face with what looked to be a cloth hanging next to the sink. “‘Wash your face three times a day,’ right? Don’t want to get sticky. This is well water. It’s pumped up here. Nice and cold. Tastes good, too. It failed the safety inspection, but I’m the only one drinking it, so who cares? I wasn’t planning on living very long anyway. You’d better steer clear of it. Unless you wanna sip? Hahaha. Why would you, right? You can get anything you want from the store. And you’ve got drinkable water on tap. Okay, all set — shall we? Which way to the hole?” “By the river, on the way to the store.” As soon as I said it, he sprang in that direction, not wasting any time. I did my best to keep up. I looked over at the Seras’ house. The curtains were drawn. “I bet it wasn’t easy for you to climb out of that hole. Was it deep? The deeper the hole, the cooler it is. Warmer in the winter, to
o. You should see him when he’s digging. It’s a real show, dirt flying all over the place. You lucked out. Some holes are so deep that they’d be the end of you.” “So how does the animal get out?” “Well, it looks a bit funny, but he spirals up, butt first, shimmying up with his feet on one side and back against the other . . . Wait, is that what you did?” I shook my head.

  We followed the walkway to the garden out front, where Grandpa was still watering. He looked at us and opened his mouth. I was sure he was looking at the man, not me. He didn’t say anything. His eyes were covered in shadow, but he wasn’t making the usual smile. The hose went slack in his hand, water pouring at his boots. The man lifted a hand at Grandpa, who appeared to shake the tip of the hose in response. I guess this means they have to be related. He has to be my husband’s brother. Was I supposed to ask Grandpa not to say anything about us being together? What if he said something to Tomiko? Unfazed by my hesitation, my brother-in-law started speaking. “Listen to those cicadas. They’re a real earful this year, aren’t they?” The second he said it, as if on cue, brown cicadas started roaring all around us. “Inside my shed, I can hear it all. All the sound. I almost feel like I’m becoming one of them.” My brother-in-law strode toward the gate. I watched Grandpa standing there, hose pointed downward. He almost looked like a shadow. “How about it, bride? They’re pretty loud, aren’t they?” “They are. I thought maybe they were like this every year around here . . .” My brother-in-law snorted. “Hah. Cause we’re out in the middle of nowhere? Haha. This is a special summer for them, believe me.” I regretted not bringing a hat, maybe even a parasol. I looked up and down the street, at all the houses and windows. I didn’t see anyone around. It was almost as if there were some rule against walking outside when the sun was up. Maybe there really was — how would I know? Maybe no one actually lives here. Just me, my brother-in-law, Grandpa, and the cicadas. “He doesn’t get along with most folks. Far as I know, he doesn’t get along with anybody. I don’t even know how he wound up living here. He’s a real lone wolf. Not that he’s a real wolf.” At moments, the cicadas overpowered him and I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I felt like I got the gist.