A Pale View of Hills

When I eventually went back into the living room, Ogata-San was putting on his shoes in the entryway.

“Tell me, Etsuko,” he said, not looking up from his laces. “Have you met this Shigeo Matsuda?”

“Once or twice. He used to visit us after we were married.”

‘But he and Jiro aren’t such dose friends these days?”

“Hardly. We exchange greeting cards, but that’s all.”

“I’m going to suggest to Jim he writes to his friend. Shigeo should apologize. Or else I’ll have to insist Jiro disassociates himself from that young man.”

“1 see.”

“1 thought of suggesting it to him earlier, when we were talking at breakfast. But then that kind of talk is best left till the evening.”

“You’re probably right.”

Ogata-San thanked me once bore for the lunch-box before leaving.

As it turned out, he did not bring the matter up that night. They both seemed tired when they came in and spent most of the evening reading newspapers, speaking little. And only once did Ogata-San mention Dr Endo. That was at supper, and he said simply: “Endo seemed well. He misses his work though. After all, the man lived for it.”

In bed that night, before we fell asleep, I said to Jiro: “I hope Father’s quite content with the way we’re receiving him.”

“What else can he expect?” my husband said. “Why don’t you take him out somewhere if you’re so worried.”

“Will you be working on Saturday afternoon?”

“How can’t afford not to? I’m behind schedule as it is. He happened to choose the most difficult of times to visit me It’s just too bad.”

“But we could still go out on Sunday, couldn’t we?”

I have a feeling I did not receive a reply then, though I lay gazing up into the darkness waiting. Jim was often tired after a days work and not in the mood for conversation.

In any case, it seems I was worrying unduly about Ogata-San, for his visit that summer turned out to be one of his lengthiest. I remember he was still with us that night Sachiko knocked on out apartment door.

She was wearing a dress I had never seen before, and there was a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her face had been carefully made up, but a thin strand of hair had come loose and was hanging over her cheek,

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Etsuko,” she said, smiling. ‘1 was wondering if by any chance Mariko was here.”

“Mariko? Why, no.”

“Well, never mind. You haven’t seen her at all?’

“I’m afraid not. You’ve lost her?’

“There’s no need to took like that,” she said, with a laugh. “It’s just that she wasn’t in the cottage when I got back, that’s all. I’m sure I’ll find her very soon.”

We were talking at the entryway, and I became aware of Jim and Ogata-San looking towards us. I introduced Sachiko, and they all bowed to each other.

“This is worrying.” Ogata-San said. “Perhaps we’d better phone the police straight away.”

“There’s no need for that,” said Sachiko. “I’m sure I’ll find her.”

But perhaps it’s best to be safe and phone anyway.’

“No really” — a slight hint of irritation had entered Sachiko’s voice — “there’s no need. I’m sure l’ll find her”

“I’ll help you look for her,” I said, starting to put on my jacket.

My husband looked at me disapprovingly. He seemed about to speak, but then stopped himself. In the end, he said: “It’s almost dark now.”

“Really, Etsuko, there’s no need to make such a fuss,” Sachiko was saying. But if you don’t mind coming out for a minute, I’ll be most grateful.”

“Take care, Etsuko,” Ogata-San said. “And phone the police if you don’t find the child soon”

We descended the flight of stairs. Outside it was still warm, and across the wasteground the sun had sunk very low, highlighting the muddy furrows.

‘Have you looked around the housing precinct?” I asked.

“No, not yet”

“Let’s look then.” I began to walk rapidly. “Does Mariko have friends she may be with?”

‘1 don’t think so. Really, Etsuko” — Sachiko laughed and put a hand on my arm — ‘there’s no need to be so alarmed. Nothing will have happened to her. In fad, Etsuko, I really came round because I wanted to tell you Some news. You see, it’s all been settled at last. We’re leaving for America within the next few days.”

“America?” Perhaps because of Sachiko’s hand on my arn, perhaps out of sheer surprise, I stopped walking.

“Yes, America. You’ve no doubt heard of such a place.” She seemed pleased at my astonishment.

I began to walk again. Our precinct was an expanse of paved concrete, interrupted occasionally by thin young trees planted when the buildings had gone up. Above us, lights had come on in most of the windows.

“Aren’t you going to ask me anything more?” Sachiko said, catching up with me. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m going? And who I’m going with?”

“I’m very glad if this is what you wanted,” I said. ‘But perhaps we should find your daughter lust.”

“Etsuko, you must understand there’s nothing I’m ashamed of. There’s nothing I want to hide from anyone. Please ask me anything you want, I’m not ashamed.”

“I thought perhaps we should find your daughter first.

We can talk later.”

“Very well, Etsuko,” she said, with a laugh. “Let’s find Mariko first.”