17. MICHIKO

Matsuyama, 1965

Michiko stacked the lacquer boxes of special New Year’s foods and straightened the pile of greeting cards the postman had delivered earlier that morning. She knew that Shotaro would look carefully through them, so many from his employees and those whose businesses supplied his company. He and Tetsutaro were in the park a block away, flying the boy’s new kite; it would be a while before they returned. The night before they had agreed with Tetsutaro that at ten he was old enough to stay up to greet the New Year, but he had fallen asleep in his father’s lap long before the midnight ringing of the temple bell. When the last of the 108 tolls had faded away, Shotaro had carried the boy to bed.

Shotaro started the New Year by making sure they were up in time for the sunrise. They had stood behind their house, Shotaro’s arms around her, his hands and hers together clasping their son in front of her. The sky brightened and the sun rose lighting a scrim of clouds on the horizon navy and gold, violet and mauve. “It will be a good year,” said Shotaro, hugging her closer.

Michiko made a cup of tea and went to sit in the tatami room. The house was warm and the neighborhood had the special silence of the holiday. She looked at the pine and bamboo in the garden where Shotaro loved to putter and thought about the year ahead with the same calm and confidence she had felt watching the sunrise. She thought about how her husband’s grit and tenacity had kept her safe for twenty years.

They brought the cold with them into the room and stories about how the kite had almost gotten away but finally had flown high and true. ­Shotaro went with Tetsutaro to help him store the kite away. When he came back, she poured tea for him, and as he sat down he said, “He’s reading his new book, but he’ll be asleep in ten minutes. He ran himself ragged in the park. I’m glad to have you to myself for a few minutes. I want to tell you about the plans of Miyazawa Industries for this year. It’s time for another plant, and my managers tell me that the best prospective location is Iyoshi. I’ll have to go there and visit soon. I want you to come.”

“But, Shikoku, Matsuyama—”

“Michiko, my dear, you know I hate traveling by myself. I’d rather be home with you and Tetsutaro. What if I make them wait until spring break so we can take the boy too?”

“Well.…”

“Fine, it’s set.”

They didn’t tell Tetsutaro until just before his school term ended. Shotaro came home with the full itinerary, the train tickets, and the brochure for the hotel in Matsuyama. Tetsutaro jumped about, yelling, “We’re going traveling, traveling on the Shinkansen!”

“Quiet, Tetchan,” said Michiko.

“Stop,” growled his father. “We’re going in the opposite direction, so we won’t be on the bullet train.” Tetsutaro stopped jumping and asked, “Where’s Matsuyama?”

“Stop your foolishness. What are they teaching you in that school? Go get the atlas and we’ll see where Matsuyama is.”

When the impromptu lesson was finished and Tetsutaro was balanced on a step stool tipping the big book back on the shelf, Shotaro said, “The next time I go to Tokyo, maybe I’ll take you on the Shinkansen. But now it’s time for bed.”

Shotaro had his driver pick them up early. Osaka Station was crowded and Michiko waited with their bags in a coffee shop near the entrance to the platforms while Shotaro took Tetchan to the shops at the other end of the concourse.

When Tetsutaro reappeared at Michiko’s side, she was sitting with coffee and cake untouched in front of her, looking across the street at an old country granny, bent over under the weight of the huge box tied to her back, moving slowly through the city bustle. As she turned to hug her son, Shotaro limped up behind the boy, his smile the same sweet treat it had been that first day in the pine forest.

“Mama, look at my model Shinkansen. And we got all these mikan and the sembei you like.”

“It is a fine train, don’t you agree, my dear?” said Shotaro to his wife, even though his eyes had followed hers; he too was watching the granny.

“Yes, my dears, it is a fine train. And thank you for remembering my favorite snack. We’re going to have lots of treats: we’ll see beautiful scenery and have good things to eat.”

Tetchan was asleep by the time the express train was just three stops from Osaka. They had to wake him, and he was still groggy when they arrived at the ferry.

“Papa, where are we?”

“It’s the Seto Inland Sea. We’re going to Shikoku.”

“It’s not the ocean?”

“You used to be sure Lake Biwa was the ocean. Remember?”

“No, I don’t remember, Mama. Everyone knows that Lake Biwa is Japan’s largest lake. Is Papa kidding?”

“No, darling. Look at the beautiful islands. Look at the boats.”

“Yes, Mama, it is beautiful. I’m glad we’re going to Shikoku so I can see where you lived when you were a kid.”

They had enough time in Takamatsu to take a taxi to the Castle and walk around. The cherries were in bloom. “What do you think, a farmers’ cooperative?” Shotaro asked as they stepped off the path for a group of beaming old folks. As they passed, a gust of wind loosened some of the petals and blew them across the group. Michiko watched one old man stop walking and stepping behind his wife to brush petals from her collar and flick them from her hair. As soon as he finished, a second gust landed even more on her. When the wind died down, he smiled, put his hand on her shoulder, and leaned forward to say something to her. She shook her head and they laughed together. He stepped back to her side and they moved forward with the rest of their group, both smiling and both with their jackets and hair sprinkled with petals.

And, as they settled in on the train for Matsuyama, he said, “Country people. Country trains. Old equipment. Old ways. Slow. But we’ll get there. And we’ll probably enjoy it more. Today we experienced a great luxury—time to appreciate the sakura.”

They ate their mikan, Michiko peeling. Shotaro grumbled at Tetchan’s questions about his mom’s hometown. “You’ll see. You’ll see. You’ll see everything.”

When the conductor entered the car, Shotaro gave his son the tickets. “Assistant Conductor Nakahara,” according to the tag pinned to his tunic, was no more than twice Tetchan’s age. He took the tickets from the boy, made a great show of examining them, and finally said, “Well, Sir, I see you’ve traveled a long way. Are you from Osaka?”

“Yes!”

“And you’re going all the way to Matsuyama?”

“Yes. Are you going to punch our tickets? Are you from Matsuyama? My mom is from Matsuyama.”

“No, I live in Sendai now, but I’m from Ohara, outside Kyoto. But this is my favorite route. I love the trip along the water to Matsuyama.”

“Look at this.” Tetchan pulled his new prize possession out of his knapsack. “My dad got me this Shinkansen.”

“The Shinkansen is the best. And Miyazawa-san, here are your tickets, with my punch. See it looks like a fish. I think maybe it’s a Seto Inland Sea fish.”

“Wow. Cool. Mom, look.”

Three officials of Ehime Prefecture and the Mayor of Iyoshi met them at Matsuyama Station. As the limo took them to the Grand Castle View Hotel, the local officials were full of the plans they had made for Shotaro. He listened politely and said, “Thank you very much for your kindness. We are most grateful that you came out of your way to pick us up. But we are tired from our long journey and need to rest tonight. What time do you want me to be ready in the morning? I am very much looking forward to touring the factory site.”

Michiko thought, how wonderful that we’ll have the evening to ourselves.

The locals bowed them into the hotel, and once the registration form was completed, the hotel staff bowed the Miyazawas into the elevator.

As they ate a quiet dinner in a corner of the hotel dining room, Shotaro explained his responsibilities to Tetchan. “I have to take a little trip to another town with those men tomorrow. So you will go with Mom to the Castle. It’s famous because it’s a dark wood one. A powerful ruler named Lord Matsudaira lived there. It’s so high on a hill you have to take a ropeway to the top. After you see where the lord lived, I think you should walk back down the hill. It’s a job I can’t do. Your mom needs to see all these places again. I have to work, and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t enjoy climbing that big hill. Can I depend on you, Tetsutaro?”

“Yes, Papa. I’ll take care of Mama.”

“How do you know all this about Matsuyama and the Castle?” Michiko asked her husband.

“Since my wife never talks about her home town, I’ve had to read up on it.” Shotaro pulled a small travel guide out of his pocket and handed it to Tetsutaro. “You keep this, son, and check to see if Mom still remembers all the important details about her hometown.”

As they walked down the hill from the Castle, Tetsutaro said, “Mama, it was even better than Papa said. We could see everything. The mountains were so tall.”

“Yes, Lord Matsudaira sat at the top of a world that was all his. I had forgotten how wonderful the view is and how the mountains and the Inland Sea cradle the city. And seeing the collection boxes made me remember all the haiku our teachers made us memorize. And of course we wrote our own and put them in the boxes. Kiri ki naru / ichi ugoku ya / kageboshi, A human shadow / hovers in these foggy streets / a cloud of yellow. That’s about the most famous Matsuyama haiku poet.”

“Mama, I don’t like that one so much. Too many clouds and ­shadows.”

“Yes, my dear, it does feel sad, doesn’t it? Soseki the novelist and poet was in foggy London when he heard about the death of his friend, Shiki. He was cold and lonely in a foreign land, thinking of Matsuyama and Shiki, so far away. But here are some others. These are much older. This poet’s name was Basho. He lived about two hundred years before Shiki and Soseki, and he traveled all over Japan. Here’s one where he was looking out at water, the rough waters of the Japan Sea, not at all like the calm Seto waters: Araumiya / Sado ni yokotau / ama-no- kawa. The wild sea / and the Milky Way / next to Sado Island.”

“Yes, Mama, I like the water. The sea and the river of heaven, the Milky Way.”

“Very good Tetchan. And listen to this one: Samazama no / koto omoidasu / sakura kana. So many things / are brought to mind by / cherry blossoms. Remember those old farmers we saw yesterday looking at the cherries at Takamatsu Castle? How happy they were to walk in the sunlight and enjoy the beautiful blooms. But I think they were also smiling because they were remembering the other times they had seen sakura.”

“Mama, they were really old. They probably remember lots and lots of other times, don’t you think?”

“Yes, darling, and you, Dad, and I were lucky yesterday to be together when we saw those blossoms, and today you and I have seen another castle and more beautiful blooms.”

Michiko hoped that, in his old age, her son’s memories would include not only this day, but also yesterday and the creased faces of the old farmers smiling under the blooming trees, remembering the many other times they had seen the blossoms. When Tetsutaro stumbled, she took his hand and said “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it, darling? Here’s a taxi. We’ll be back at the hotel soon.”

“Michiko? Michiko-san? Michiko Shizuyama? Is that really you? It’s Masako. Masako Mikawa. Used to be Sugano.”

“It’s Miyazawa now, not Shizuyama. Yes, Masako, it’s me. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m here to meet my husband. He’s here with a visiting manufacturer from Osaka.… Oh, Michiko. Is that Miyazawa-san your husband?”

“Yes, Masako,” she said, feeling sorry for Masako’s embarrassment. Poor thing, no longer the queen of the Prefectural Girls’ High School, lording it over Michiko and all the other not-so-well-off girls. “Mikawa-san, I think I met your husband last night. He’s with the Prefectural government, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s the head of his division now.”

Michiko realized there was no escape. “Shall we sit down and have some tea?”

“Oh Miyazawa-san, that would be so wonderful. I’m not sure how much longer my husband, our husbands, will be. Oh, and is this your son?”

“Tetchan, say hello to Mikawa-san.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.”

“Tetchan, Mrs. Mikawa and I went to school together, and we haven’t seen each other for more than twenty years. She and I are going to sit here in the lobby and talk. I want you to go out in the garden and wait for us. You’ll be able to see us, and we’ll see you through the window. You have your book about Lord Matsudaira and the Castle, don’t you? Good.”

As soon as they sat down, Masako started, “What a lovely boy. I have three children myself. My oldest girl is in our old high school now. My second, the first boy, is at Matsuchu, and so is our second boy. They aren’t even two years apart. Well, of course, the name isn’t Matsuchu any more—officially. But we all still call it that here. We know it’s the most prestigious school in Shikoku. My husband is pleased that our boys are doing so well. He’s already talking about Kyodai or Todai for them, but I’m not sure I want them that far away.”

“How proud you must be.”

“Yes, thank you. Have you been past the old school? How about Matsuchu? Everything’s changed so much. My kids don’t believe it when my husband and I tell them stories about the old days. Oh, Michiko-san, do you remember how we would walk to school on Okaido while the Matsuchu boys were going the other way? We’d even stop in your parents’ sweet shop sometimes. Oh, that was so much fun. My husband was a Matsuchu boy himself.”

“I’m sorry I don’t remember him from then.”

“Ah, those were the days, weren’t they? There were so many handsome guys. Furuyama-san works with my husband. And Kawada-san is a doctor. He has a big clinic near Dogo-Onsen. And.…” She paused to think, and said, “Oh, Michiko, I’m sure you remember Imagawa-san, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Michiko said carefully, “he married Kayoko Katayama, didn’t he? How are they?”

“Oh, Michiko-san, you don’t know? Well, how would you, living in Osaka.… It’s such a story.”

“Mmm.”

“Well, you know they married soon after the end of the war. Yamamura-sensei, from Matsuchu, got Imagawa-san a job with the Occupation Army. He spent a lot of time traveling around with those Americans checking on the schools. Poor Kayoko was alone. She stayed with her mom and with Mrs. Imagawa out in Ishii Village because both families had lost their houses in the city. I heard she had two miscarriages. He never seemed to care. Maybe he was so cold and selfish”—and here she dropped her voice—“from his Special Attack Corps experience. Or maybe all that time with the foreigners. Speaking English all the time. Then he began teaching at the university and there was a lot of talk about him and a young secretary. She was more than ten years younger. From some small town up in the mountains. Everyone said he was really chasing her. Well, she—her name was Akiko Sato—she just suddenly disappeared.

“Then the Americans got him a scholarship, and he went away for two years. Just sailed off. Kayoko was sick—everyone said it was a miscarriage—just before he left to study in the States.

“When he came back, he had some fancy American degree and went back to the university to teach. Poor Kayoko didn’t look any happier, but she was soon pregnant again.

“And then, and this is the really sad part, Kayoko died in childbirth, and the baby didn’t survive. It was at the end of the school year. He left for America again without even staying for the forty-ninth-day services for his wife. The Katayamas never spoke to his mother again. A tough situation for such a proud lady. And to make it worse, everyone thinks that Akiko is with him in the States. We’re sure he’ll never come home again.

“Ah, Michiko-san, here they are. Our husbands.” Masako hurried across the lobby and made the most extravagant bows possible, while gushing, “Ah, Miyazawa-san, I’m Mikawa. I was lucky enough to meet your wife here in the hotel. We were schoolgirls together. It’s such an honor to meet you. I hope your day was a good one.”

Shotaro said, “How pleasant to meet you, Mrs. Mikawa. Your husband and his colleagues showed me so much. It was a great day.”

Michiko stood next to Shotaro and bowed as Mikawa and his colleagues, with Masako in tow, made their exit.

As they smiled, Shotaro asked, “Where’s our boy?”

“Safe. In the garden.”

“Let’s call him. I need a bath and dinner and my wife and my son. Tomorrow we can go home.”