?The woman came round again,? said Mariko. ?Last night. While you were gone.?
Sachiko looked at her daughter for a second or two. Then she said: ?I think you should go inside now. Go on. I?ll show you what you have to do.?
?She came again last night. She said she?d take me to her house.?
?Go on, Mariko, go on into the kitchen and wait for me there.?
?She?s going to show me where she lives.?
?Mariko, go inside.?
Across the forecourt, Mrs. Fujiwara and the two women were laughing loudly about something. Mariko continued to stare at her palms. Sachiko turned away and came back to my table.
?Excuse me a moment, Etsuko,? she said. ?But I left something boiling. I?ll be back in just a moment.? Then lowering her voice, she added: ?you can hardly expect her to get enthusiastic about a place like this, can you?? She smiled and went towards the kitchen. At the doorway, she turned once more to her daughter.
?Come on, Mariko, come inside.?
Mariko did not move. Sachiko shrugged, then disappeared inside the kikhen.
Around that same time, in early summer, Ogata-San came to visit us, his first visit since moving away from Nagasaki earlier that year. He was my husband?s father, and it seems rather odd I always thought of him as ?Ogata- San?, even in those days when that was my own name. But then I had known him as ?Ogata-San? for such a long time? since long before I had ever met Jiro ? I had never got used to calling him ?Father?.
There was little family resemblance between Ogata-San and my husband. When I recall Jiro today, I picture a small stocky man wearing a stem expression; my husband was always fastidious about his appearance, and even at home would frequently dress in shirt and tie. I see him now as I saw him so often, seated on the tatami in our living room, hunched forward over his breakfast or supper. I remember he had this same tendency to hunch forward ? in a manner not unlike that of a boxer? whether standing or walking. By contrast, his father would always sit with his shoulders flung well back, and had a relaxed, generous manner about him. Whet? he came to visit us that summer, Ogata-San was still in the best of health, displaying a well-built physique and the robust energy of a much younger man.
I remember the morning he first mentioned Shigeo Matsuda. He had been with us for a few days by then, apparently finding the small square room comfortable enough for an extended stay. It was a bright morning and the three of us were finishing breakfast before Jiro left for the off ice.
?This school reunion of yours,? he said to Jiro. ?That?s tonight, is it??
?No. tomorrow evening.?
?Will you be seems Shigeo Matsuda??
?Shigeo? No, I doubt it. He doesn?t usually attend these occasions. I?m sorry tobe going off and keaving you Father. I?d rather give the thing a miss, but that may cause offence.?
?Don?t worry. Etsuko-San will look after me well enough. And these occasions are important.?
?I?d take some days off work,? Jiro said, ?but were so busy just now. As say, this order came into the office the day you arrived. A teal nuisance.?
?Not at all,? said his father. ?1 understand perfectly. It wasn?t so long ago I was rushed off my feet with work myself. I?m not so old, you know.?
?No, of course?
We ate on in silence for several moments. Then Ogata-San said:
?So you don?t think you?ll be running into Shigeo Matsuda. But you still see him from time to time??
?Not so often these days. We?ve gone such separate ways since we got older.?
?Yes, this is what happens. Pupils all go separate ways, and then they find it so difficult to keep in touch. That?s why these reunions are so important One shouldn?t be so quick to forget old allegiances. And it?s good to take a glance back now and then, it helps keep things in perspective. Yes, I think you should certainly go along tomorrow?
?Perhaps Father will still be with us on Sunday,? my husband said. ?Then perhaps we could go out somewhere for the day.?
?Yes, we can do that. A splendid idea. But if you have work to do, it doesn?t matter in the least.?
?No, I think I can leave Sunday free. I?m sorry to be so busy at the moment.?
?Have you asked any of your old teachers along tomorrow?? Ogata-San asked.
?Not that I know of.?
?It?s a shame teachers aren?t asked more often to these occasions.! was asked along from time to time. And when I was younger, we always made a point of inviting our teachers. I think it?s only proper. It?s an opportunity for a teacher to see the fujits of his work, and for the pupils to express their gratitude to him. I think it?s only proper that teachers are present.?
?Yes, perhaps you have a point.?
?Men these days forget so easily to whom they owe their education.?
?Yes, you?re very right.?
My husband finished eating and laid down his chopsticks. I poured him some tea.
?An odd little thing happened the other day,? Ogata-San said. ?In retrospect, I suppose it?s rather amusing. I was at the library in Nagasaki, and I came across this periodical
