Out Read online

  3

  Why was it you could talk to dead people in your dreams? In the midst of a fitful sleep, Masako dreamed that her dead father was standing in the garden staring at the bare lawn. He was wearing a light summer kimono like the one he'd worn in the hospital as he was dying from a malignant tumour on his jaw. The sky was heavily overcast. When he noticed Masako standing on the veranda, his face, deformed from the repeated operations, seemed to relax.

  'What are you doing?' she asked.

  'I was thinking of going out.' In his last days, her father had become almost incapable of speech, but in the dream his voice was clear.

  'But someone will be coming soon,' she'd said. She had no idea who it was, but she'd run around the house getting things ready. The garden had been from the old home her father had rented in Hachioji, but the house itself was the new one she and Yoshiki had built, and tugging at the leg of her jeans was Nobuki, who was once again a toddler.

  'Then we'll have to clean the bathroom,' her father said. A shiver went down her spine. Somehow she knew that the bathroom was stuffed with Kenji's hair; but how did her father know? It must be because he was dead, too. She pulled herself away from Nobuki's tiny hands and tried to think of an excuse to feed her father; but while she was at it, the old man came tottering toward her on his sticklike legs. She could see his face now, sunken and pale, just as it had been in death. 'Masako/ he said. 'Please kill me.' The voice was close to her ear now, and she woke up with a gasp.

  That was the last thing he had said to her. He'd been in too much pain to speak, or even eat, but he had managed to choke out these words. The voice had been lost somewhere in her memory until now, but as it came back to her, she shook with fear, as if she'd heard a ghost.

  'Masako.'

  Yoshiki was standing by the bed. He almost never came into the room while she was there, and she stared at him now, half in wonder, as she tried to rouse herself from her dream.

  'Have a look at this,' he said, pointing at an article in the newspaper he was holding. 'Isn't this someone you know?' She sat up and took the paper from him. At the top of the third page was a headline that read 'Dismembered Body in Park Identified as Musashi Murayama Office Worker'. Just as she'd predicted, they had figured out it was Kenji sometime last night. But somehow seeing it in print made the whole thing seem less real. Wondering why that should be so, she read through the article.

  'On the night he disappeared, the victim's wife, Yayoi, had gone to her part-time job at a nearby factory. The police are trying to determine Yamamoto's movements after he left work that evening,' the paper said. There were no additional details, just a repeat of the previous article which had focused on the most lurid fact: dismembered body parts found in garbage.

  'You do know her, don't you?' Yoshiki said.

  'I do, but how did you know?'

  'A Yamamoto has called here from time to time, saying she's from the factory. And the article says she works a night shift. Yours is about the only one around here.' Had he heard Yayoi's call that night? Masako studied his eyes for a clue, but he turned away, apparently embarrassed to have seemed so excited. 'I just thought you'd want to know,' he said.

  'Thanks.'

  'Who could have done something like that? Somebody had a grudge against him, apparently.'

  'I doubt it was that,' Masako said. 'But I don't know.'

  'But you know her pretty well, don't you? Shouldn't you go and see how she's doing?' He looked at her curiously, evidently surprised at how calmly she seemed to be taking the whole thing.

  'I wonder,' she answered vaguely, pretending to'look over the newspaper which was still lying on the bed. Yoshiki eyed her curiously for a moment and then went to take a suit out of the closet. He rarely went to work on Saturdays but today seemed to be an exception. Realising he was getting ready to leave, Masako jumped up and began making the bed.

  'Are you sure you don't need to go over there?' he repeated, without turning around. 'The place must be swarming with police and reporters, and I bet she'd appreciate seeing a familiar face.'

  'I doubt she needs one more person bothering her.' Without answering, Yoshiki pulled off his T-shirt. Masako stood looking at his bare back, taking in the sagging muscles and sallow skin. He stiffened, seeming to sense her eyes on him.

  She had long since forgotten what it was like to sleep with Yoshiki. Now, they merely inhabited the same house, performing their prescribed roles. They were no longer husband and wife, nor even father and mother. They simply went on - automatically, faithfully - going to work, taking care of the house and, in Masako's mind, gradually going to pieces. Yoshiki slipped on his shirt and turned to look at her.

  'At least call her,' he said. 'Why be so unfriendly?' Masako thought for a moment, realising that her anxiety about appearing to have any connection to the crime might be blinding her to how she would normally act.

  'I guess I should,' she said, still sounding reluctant. Yoshiki looked at her.

  'Once you decide something doesn't concern you, you just cut yourself off,' he said.

  'I don't mean to.' She realised he must have noticed the change in her since the night she'd gone to Yayoi's.

  'Sorry I butted in,' he said, frowning as though at the taste of something bitter. They stared silently at one another for a moment until Masako looked down and began straightening the quilt.

  'You were moaning in your sleep just before you woke up,' he added as he was tightening his tie.

  'I was having a nightmare,' she said, noting that his tie didn't match his suit.

  'About what?'

  'My father was in it, and he could talk.' Yoshiki grunted, stuffing his wallet and train pass into his pants pocket. He'd always liked her father, so she could only conclude that his refusal to pursue the subject meant he had given up trying to reach her. He probably no longer even felt the need to do so. Nor did she, perhaps. She took her time tucking in the edges of the quilt, thinking about all the things the two of them had lost.

  -

  After he'd gone, Masako called Yayoi's house.

  'The Yamamotos',' a voice said wearily. It sounded like Yayoi, yet different somehow, older.

  'My name's Katori. May I speak to Yayoi?'

  'I'm afraid she's sleeping at the moment. May I ask what you're calling about?'

  'I work with Yayoi at the factory, and I read what happened in the newspaper. I was worried about her.'

  'That's very kind of you. She's stunned by all this, of course. She's been in bed since last night.' The woman sounded as though she had already given this speech a number of times. There must have been countless calls since this morning - relatives, Kenji's coworkers, Yayoi's friends, neighbours, and no doubt the media. She was simply repeating what she'd told everyone else, like the

  message on an answering machine.

  'Are you her mother?' Masako asked.

  'Yes,' the woman said almost curtly, apparently anxious to avoid giving out unnecessary information.

  'You must be devastated. Well, we're all thinking about you,'

  Masako said, cutting the conversation short. At least she would remember that Masako had called. That should be enough. But it would have been strange not to call at all. Now all she had to do was concentrate on keeping the rest from coming to light. As she was hanging up, Nobuki came down from his room and, after eating his breakfast in silence, went out. To work? To play? Masako didn't know. Once she was alone, she turned on the TV and surfed the news programmes. They all had the same story that she'd read in the paper, so apparently there hadn't been any new developments.

  Yoshie called a few minutes later, her voice almost a whisper.

  Masako knew that, unlike her own quiet night, Yoshie had been to work and was now taking a break from caring for her mother-in-law to make the call.

  'It's just like you said. I turned on the TV and there it was.' She sounded gloomy.

  'The police will show up at the factory before long,' Masako said.

  'Do you