Part 2

At the same time, she can’t have been cheap. And that was my complaint, dearest, for I genuinely never doubted you were visiting your sister. Not for a moment. Except on the one occasion my curiosity got the better of me. I remember turning the doll over in my hands, feeling my nose wrinkle involuntarily and the corners of my mouth droop, as though I had caught the sour scent of kitchen garbage. The revulsion was so strong that, for a moment, I wanted to smash the doll against the wall. It was then I spied the maker’s mark. I was so curious, I overlooked how cold and creepy the doll felt in my hands. When I looked it up, it struck me as strange that the maker’s studio was in Gunma Prefecture, considering your sister has never ventured west of Iwaki. Still, I never doubted you, not really. And if I framed it any differently at the time, this was merely my anxiety talking. In truth, it was the money that worried me. We had so little of it, barely enough for food and rent. And yes, I know whose fault that was. I know. I know.

I want you to know, not a single beer has passed these lips. Not a single one… not since…

If I were still drinking, I would be able to sleep. How bitterly ironic.

Had I had been able to rest, things may have turned out so differently. But they kept waking me as I napped, those dolls, a constant reminder of your passion. I tried sleeping in another room, yet even with the fusuma panels drawn shut, I could not shake the sense of their presence. They followed me around the house. As I tried to make rice the way I’d seen you do it. As I watched our soaps on television.

I wondered how other families cope with grief. I had heard that emptying the wardrobe is often the first step. Clothes are what bring the memories back most painfully. For me, though, it was the dolls. Naturally, I did not want to part with them, because whenever I saw them, it was your eyes I remembered. And yet I could not bear it a moment longer. So I gathered them into an empty Sapporo Beer box. In truth, I swept them from the dresser in a kind of frenzy, without thought for their size or fragility, and bound the box quickly with tape, ready to take it down to the village.

Yes, yes. I saw you.

No sweetheart, you are mistaken. How could you have? But I did worry someone might see me. People are such tittle-tattles, so I waited until the next morning. I got up early, before anyone else would be about, or so I thought. Yet old Mr. Sato was there in his garden. Who knows why he was pottering around at that time. Just my luck, I thought. I froze and waited at the corner of his house. My impatience made it feel as though an age had gone by, though it was likely only a few minutes. It’s not that I wanted to avoid old Sato. I simply did not want to have that conversation, or benefit from any kind of sympathy. I had not spoken to a single neighbour since the day you passed.

Passed? You are kidding, right?

My darling, I… I don’t quite know how to put this. You aren’t ready. I get it. Shall we speak about this a little later? After you have found your feet again? It is just so good to have you back. I don’t want to risk losing you again. Not so soon.