Christmas and Report Cards
Kazuo did not like to study. He did his homework because he had to not once had he ever wished to study more on his own. If he had extra time, he would much rather use it to play with his friends in the empty lot, or read comics, or watch TV.
Of course, he had privately vowed to study harder when the owner of Yoshino’s Tofu Shop died, but that had not led to anything lasting. Kazuo knew that he wasn’t putting as much effort into his schoolwork as he could, so when the end of fall term and report card day came on December 25, Christmas Day, he felt doomed from the moment he woke up.
Kazuo knew from TV and magazines that Christmas was the day Jesus Christ was born He knew that in America and Europe, people put up Christmas trees and ate whole roasted turkey, and that children opened presents in front of glowing fireplaces.
Kazuo knew this, but he had never experienced it. At his house, they never put up a Christmas tree, or ate a whole roasted turkey.
“Japanese people have New Year’s. Surely that’s enough.” This was Kazuo’s mother’s explanation for why they didn’t celebrate Christmas. Of course, when she put it that way, Kazuo had to agree. He had never been to church, or offered thanks to Jesus Christ before a meal, like the families did at supper on TV Westerns. He did not think of Jesus Christ’s birthday as a reason to feel particularly grateful.
Then again, Christmas seemed much more stylish than New Year’s, and Kazuo couldn’t help finding everything about it more impressive. Compared with New Year’s pine decorations, Christmas trees were far more splendid and eye-catching. And next to rice-dumpling soup and the salty-sweet dishes that were stored in lacquer boxes for New Year’s, a whole turkey or chicken roasted to a tantalizing light brown seemed much more appetizing.
Of course, nobody in Kazuo’s neighborhood actually put up a Christmas tree and celebrated the holiday like people did on American TV shows. The stores in the shopping area played Christmas songs nonstop, but the only ones with Christmas trees were the cake shop, Mimasu Sweets, and the toy shop, Tanaka. Then there was Takahashi Meats, owned by Nobuo’s family, which sold specially roasted chicken thighs on Christmas Day only.
So Kazuo’s Christmas celebration consisted almost entirely of eating a slice of , purchased by one of his parents, after dinner on December 25. And most of the pleasure from that had already been ruined by the handing out of report cards earlier in the day.
At school this year on Christmas Day, even the boys who usually loitered at the back of the classroom until the teacher came, talking loudly or pretending to be pro wrestlers, were waiting quietly in their seats. None of them could stop thinking about the report cards that were about to be handed out.
Eventually, Mr. Honda came into the classroom carrying the documents under his arm. Seeing everyone’s tense faces, his eyes sparkled behind his glasses.
“When I was about your age, I hated report card day, too. Please remember, boys and girls, that low grades are an opportunity to work harder next term. And even if your grades have improved, there is still room to go up.”
Mr. Honda handed the report cards to the students as they filed one-by-one to the front of the classroom. Like everyone, Kazuo took his report card from Mr. Honda and then went to his seat and opened it just a crack. He had gotten fives again in math, science, and physical education. (Five was the top grade on a scale of one to five.) He’d gotten fours in Japanese and social studies. He had a three in drawing and manual arts and a three in music. His Japanese had gone up from a three to a four; otherwise, his grades were unchanged. In the comment section, Mr. Honda had written, “Kazuo was assistant leader of his class group and did a good job getting them organized and looking after everyone. In academics, he did his homework faithfully but could improve further with additional effort. Resist the temptation to be satisfied with the current results, and do your best.”
Kazuo sighed. Mr. Honda had figured out that he hated to study.
When the students’ cheers, dejected sighs, and surprised gasps had finally died down, the teacher spoke up.
“With that, we come to the end of the fall term. From tomorrow until January 7, we have winter vacation. Whatever you do, take good care of your health and try not to catch a cold. I look forward to seeing you all here in good spirits on January 8. Happy New Year.”
The class bowed, and the term was over.
If this were a normal day, Kazuo would go with Nobuo, Nishino-kun, Minoru, and Yasuo to the empty lot and play awhile before going home. But when Kazuo went to peek into his brother’s second-grade classroom, not a soul was in sight. Nobuo went right home, saying he had to help at the butcher shop, as they were selling the roasted chicken thighs for Christmas. Minoru left, too, explaining that he had to help his dad. That left Kazuo and Nishino-kun.
The two of them sat down on the dead grass in the empty lot and showed each other their report cards. Other than a five in drawing and manual arts, and a four in social studies, Nishino-kun had all threes.
“You got terrific grades,” Nishino-kun told Kazuo. “Just once, I wish I could get a five in something other than drawing and manual arts.”
Kazuo saw his friend sigh glumly. While Kazuo’s grades were certainly better than Nishino-kun’s, he thought that getting a five in drawing and manual arts, as Nishino-kun had done, was more impressive. Nishino-kun’s drawings—like most of the thoughts in his head, for that matter—were completely different from everyone else’s. When the class was sketching plants, the other students tried to make their drawings resemble the trees or grass or flowers they were looking at. But Nishino-kun’s drawings didn’t look a bit like what was in front him. If he was looking at a white flower with broad, flat leaves, he would put black lines in the flower and draw the leaves slightly twisted. But for some reason the plants he drew looked more alive than anyone else’s.
“By the way, Nishino-kun, do you celebrate Christmas at your house?” Kazuo asked after he and Nishino-kun had finished sharing their report cards.
“Christmas? Not really. Mom will probably buy a Christmas cake, but we don’t put up a Christmas tree or get presents or anything.”
“I see.” Kazuo was disappointed. He had faintly hoped that Nishino-kun’s family would celebrate Christmas because they had so many foreign books. Then again, their house was so crammed with books they probably had no room for a Christmas tree. As far as Christmas went, it seemed Nishino-kun’s family was no different from all the rest in West Ito.
“Well anyway, I’d better be getting home with these grades,” Nishino-kun mumbled, sounding depressed.
Nishino-kun would probably get a talking-to from his father. Thinking about it made Kazuo feel bad for his friend.
At his own house, Kazuo thought, he would have his own problems. Mother would come home from her job and say, “Kazuo, you know perfectly well that you could get better grades if you studied a little harder. Think about that over winter vacation and buckle down next term.”
As for his father, he would probably work overtime again and come home late. Kazuo hoped that he would come straight home and not by way of Chujiya, the bar by the station. The last thing Kazuo wanted was to hear his drunken father rant, “Son, you are going to study harder and get into a national university, you hear me? Then you’re going to get a Ph.D. and work at a top company. You’re not going to have regrets and end up like me, got that?”
Soon, the two boys stood up and began to walk slowly down the roads that led to their houses.
That night Kazuo did get the usual talking-to from his mother when she came home from her job. But his father, who came home late after working overtime and stopping at the bar, was in extremely high spirits. He had bought a Christmas cake, which he placed on the kotatsu. Then he immediately fell asleep.
Sitting next to Father’s snoring body, Kazuo, Yasuo, and Mother each enjoyed a slice of cake. Christmas was just one day, but tomorrow was the start of winter vacation—and that meant two whole weeks without having to think about school. Just the idea of it almost made Kazuo forget his grades, and that was a very good thing.