A Pale View of Hills

“1 know why Mother asked you to come here.”

You can’t expect to make friends if you throw stones.”

“It’s because of the woman. ft’s because Mother knows about the woman”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Mariko-San. Tell me more about your kittens. Will you draw more pictures of them when they get bigger?’

“It’s because the woman might come again. That’s why Mother asked you:’

“I don’t think so.”

“Mother’s seen the woman. She saw her the other night.”

I Stopped sewing for a second and looked up at Mariko. She had turned away from the window and was gazing at me with a Strangely expressionless look.

“Where did your mother see this — this person?

‘Out there. She saw her out there. That’s why she asked you.”

Mariko came away from the window and returned to her kittens. The older cat had appeared and the kittens had curled up to their mother. Mariko, lay down beside then, and started to whisper. Her whispering had a vaguely disturbing quality.

“Your mother should be home soon,” I said. “I wonder what she can be doing.”

Mariko continued whispering.

“She was telling me au about Frank-san,” I said. ‘He sounds a very nice man.”

The whispering noises stopped. We stared at each other Iota second.

so “He’s a bad man’ Mariko said.

‘Now that’s not a nice thing to say, Mariko-San. Your mother told me all about him and he sounds very :‘ And I’m sure he’s very kind to you, isn’t he?’

She got to her feet and went to the wall. The spider was stiU there.

“Yes, I’m sure he’s a nice man. He’s kind to you, isn’t he, Mariko-San?”

Mariko reached forward. The spider moved quite slowly along the wall.

“Mariko, leave that alone.”

‘The cat we had in Tokyo, she used to catch spiders. We were going to bring her with us.”

I could see the spider more clearly in its new position. It had thick short legs, each leg casting a shadow on the yellow wall.

“She was a good cat,” Mariko continued. was going to come with us to Nagasaki.”

“And did you bring her?’

“She disappeared. The day before we were leaving. Mother promised we could bring her, but she disappeared.”

“I see.”

She moved suddenly and caught one of the spider’s legs. The remaining legs crawled frantically around her hand as she brought it away from the wall.

Mariko, let that go. That’s dirty.”

Mariko turned over her hand and the spider crawled into her palm. She closed her other hand over it so that it was imprisoned.

“Mariko, put that down.”

“It’s not poisonous,” she said, coming closer to me. No, but it’s dirty. Put it back in the corner”

“It’s not poisonous though.

She stood in front of me, the spider inside her cupped hands. Through a gap in her fingrs, ld see a leg moving slowly and rhythmically

“Put it back in the corner, Mariko.”

‘What would happen if late it? It’s not poisonous’

“You’d be very sick. Now, Mariko, put it back in the corner.”

Mariko brought the spider closer to her face and parted her lips.

“Don’t be silly, Mariko, That’s very dirty.’

Her mouth opened wider, and then her hands parted and the spider landed in front of my lap. I started back. The spider sped along the tatami into the shadows behind me. It took me a moment to recover, and by then Mariko had left the cottage.

Chapter Six

I cannot be sure now how long I spent searching for her that night. Quite possibly it was for a considerable time, for I was advanced in my pregnancy by then and careful to avoid hurried movements. Besides, once having come outside, I was finding it strangely peaceful to walk beside the river. Along one section of the bank, the grass had grown very tall. I must have been wearing sandals that night for I can remember distinctly the feel of the grass on my feet. As I walked, there were insects making noises all around me.

Then eventually I became aware of a separate sound, a rustling noise as if a snake were sliding in the grass behind me. I stopped to listen, then realized what had caused it; an old piece of rope had tangled itself around my ankle and I had been dragging it through the grass. I carefully released it from around my foot. When I held it up to the moonlight it felt damp and muddy between my fingers.

“Hello, Mariko,” I said, for she was sitting in the grass a short way in front of me, her knees hunched up to her chin. A willow tree — one of several that grew on the bank — hung over the spot where she sat. I took a few steps towards her until I could make out her face more clearly.

‘What’s that?” she asked.

“Nothing. It just tangled on to my foot when I was walking.”

“What is it though?’

“Nothing, just a piece of old rope. Why are you out here?”

“Do you want to take a kitten?” “A kitten?”

“Mother says we can’t keep the kittens. Do you want one?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But we have to find homes for them soon. Or else Mother says we’ll have to drown them.”

“That would be a pity’

You could have Atsu.”

“We’ll have to see.”

“Why have you got that?

“1 told you, it’s nothing. It just caught on to my foot.” I took a step closer. Why are you doing that, Mariko?”

“Doing what?”