It is God’s will.
God says, “My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.”
Isaiah 46:10
The flames consumed the Vancouver house in minutes. When all was said and done, Chisato’s home was an empty black shell, though the two floors remained intact, skeletal but intact. The contents lay strewn on the floor, charred beyond recognition. The Jesus still stood, though barely, one arm having disappeared. Its countenance was black and unrecognisable save the eyes—as mournful as ever, maybe more so.
No one knew Kiyoshi’s fate since no body was found. Someone said she thought she had seen him or someone like him run out the backdoor and into the night. Chisato saw her husband withdraw from the front window and heard a maniacal laugh accompanied by shouting, something in English within the flames. In any case, she made no comment.
She herself was lucky Michiko took her into her care. Michiko’s house, a small, simple one-storey place with stucco walls and garden in front, was two blocks away on the other side of East Hastings Street. The roar of Chinatown was faint but ever present. Chisato found herself lying in the bed of an extra room while Michiko prepared a comforting cup of barley tea.
The two soon sat together in the room, Chisato warming her hands as she palmed the cup.
“I don’t know what happened,” confided Chisato to a worried Michiko. “He came home late as he usually does and prayed in the living room. He suddenly got up and started yelling about something! That’s when he started throwing and breaking things.”
“I suppose that’s how the fire started,” Michiko opined. “Where were you?”
“Upstairs.”
“But you were fully clothed outside…and with a coat on.” She lowered her eyes, having realized she may have caused embarrassment.
Chisato paused before saying, “I was just about to get ready for bed when Kiyoshi came home. I came downstairs once he started breaking things. I grabbed a cape when I saw him and ran away.”
Michiko sat with a smirk. Chisato knew her words hadn’t explained her street clothes, but her friend let it go.
“I think I heard him inside the house; he kept screaming about something…and laughing…laughing. I don’t know what he was saying. I couldn’t understand...”
“I heard it too,” Michiko informed, “It was so loud. He said, ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’”
“What does that mean?”
Michiko lowered her gaze and explained, “…Jesus said it on the cross.”
***
The late hours put Chisato into a confessional mood. She was too tired to sleep, and fatigue played on her. Her body slumped, her eyes drooped, but she wanted to say something as she looked at Michiko’s own hangdog face.
“Michiko-san. I followed Kiyoshi…to the Showa Club. I saw what he was up to.”
“You went inside?” Michiko said somewhat alarmed.
“No…no. I waited outside,” she said and then paused. “What would make him go there?”
“He’s been going a long time, long before he married you.”
“Why?”
“Because he could. He has the money…he has the desire.”
“But he’s married.”
“I’m sure you know nothinig about Morii-san and his place of business. He controls all the vices that attract men. He and his Black Dragon Society convince wealthy men that they deserve what he offers. Meanwhile, he pulls in all the money.”
“So, Kiyoshi had to be convinced…”
“No, he was tempted.”
“But he’s a devout Christian!”
“He’s human. Even the Lord was tempted. Kiyoshi just gave in, even though he knew it was wrong. The women and alcohol were just too much for him to resist.”
“Then why did he marry? Marry me? He could’ve just gone on indulging himself without bringing shame to his wife. His family,” she said rubbing her belly.
“Doesn’t look good if the president of the church is single. Makes people suspicious.”
***
She felt good having confessed, but what to do now? Fortunately, the next day, after a breakfast of miso soup, fried fish, and rice, Michiko insisted they go see the Reverend James for help. The day was sunny, breezy, and cold, but Michiko offered a heavier coat that was a good match for the weather.
While on the way, Chisato asked to see her house. Michiko complied of course. The charred remains were heartbreaking. A skeleton stood where walls once were. The roof had partially collapsed during the night. The ground was black.
The contents were mostly gone, though she could make out the outlines of furniture. The Jesus stood as it had late last night. Its face charred and forlorn, its body and cross slightly bent and disfigured. The icon was in ruins.
Is this my fate? Chisato questioned silently. She resisted the urge to cry.
Her mind flashed to the moment outside the Immigration Building when the truth about Sachiko’s husband was revealed. Chisato saw her friend shake perhaps out of anger, perhaps out of fear. She had been duped; he had lied to her. Like Jikemura-san, Kiyoshi had kept his truth hidden from her. In that moment, something changed for her. Chisato’s eyes watered.
Because the sun shone brightly, she spied the odd glint amongst the debris. The metal crosses had survived. She resisted the urge to pick one out of the ashes—they seemed to be mocking her. She also saw the cross necklace. It seemed untouched. She left it.
Michiko patiently waited for Chisato.
“We had better go,” she insisted at length.
Chisato nodded and they continued to walk to the church.
***
The reverend’s office was as musty as before, but it represented a pocket of peace for Chisato. The good reverend smiled as he usually did and welcomed her with open arms. But as he reached for her, Chisato stepped back, resisting him.
Rev. James let the moment pass as he informed that he had heard about the tragic events. Chisato supposed everyone had by that point.
“Chai-sato-san,” Rev. James opened, “any word about Kiyo?”
As Michiko translated, she looked at the floor and shook her head.
“Well, I’m sure the police will find him.” Rev. James turned to Michiko and said, “Will you be able to take care of Chai-sato?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
“Good, you’re in good hands,” he said to Chisato.
He then escorted them downstairs to a fujinkai meeting. He entreated the gathered to open their collective heart.
She could stay with Michiko for the time being until a more permanent solution could be found. Her husband, Tamio, had no objection but avoided talking to her. Suited Chisato. The fujinkai provided all the clothing Chisato would need. The reverend went to the bank with Chisato since she had no money and no way of accessing the accounts. Michiko acted as interpreter. Although the bank officials were sympathetic, they balked since Kiyoshi was not officially dead. The police were charged with finding him and a lawyer would have to be hired.
Chisato marvelled at what good people the Christians were. Was this a trick?
About a week later, Rev. James summoned Chisato and Michiko to his office again.
“Chai-sato-san,” he addressed, foregoing the niceties. “There has been no word about Kiyo. He seems to have simply disappeared without a trace.”
Michiko translated until Chisato understood.
“I know you must be worried, but we have to be patient. Let the police do their job.”
Chisato turned to Michiko to ask, “Is he dead?”
“We don’t know,” Rev James said as an answer and then paused before continuing. “Whatever his fate, it is God’s will.”
Chisato grimaced, unsatisfied with the pronouncement. Empty words. They don’t mean anything, she thought. Why would God will such a thing?
She did ponder what Sensei Fujita would say. Desire leads to suffering. Probably, but again, the words would be meaningless, given her situation.
The Reverend James hemmed and let out a little cough before continuing. “I know what he’s been doing all this time. He sought advice from me. I of course could not and did not condone his behaviour, but I could see it was something he…something he greatly regretted…struggled with. I assume he was asking forgiveness of our Lord.”
“You knew what he was doing?” Chisato said, somewhat astonished. And yet he never let on. He had said nothing to her. “So, he was asking forgiveness?”
“I’m sure he was.”
“I cannot forgive.”
The reverend looked away and shuffled some papers.
“We have to get you settled,” he finally said. “Would you like to stay in Vancouver?”
“Where else would I go?”
“Difficult to find you a place where you would be safe and can afford. Say, I have it!” he suddenly said. “Do you remember your friend? Sachiko…um…Sachiko Jai-gee-mura?”
He had an unfortunate way of pronouncing Japanese names, but she understood and nodded. What is it with these gaijin? These foreigners? Can’t they speak properly?
“Well, you could join her, away from…um… ‘misbehaving’ husbands,” he said with a smile, almost laughing. “Would you like that?”
Chisato didn’t see the humour, but it did seem like a good idea. Michiko agreed. Who knew when and if Kiyoshi would reappear and in what kind of state of mind. She guessed she was in some danger and quickly warmed to the idea.
“When can I come back?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, but I’ll keep in touch. The place I’m thinking of is part of my rounds where I minister to the needs of Christians. I’ll see you from time to time.”
“And where is that?” she asked tentatively, afraid to betray a confidence.
“A place called Britannia Beach.”