As with the young woman, Hisako couldn’t remember the name of the man who’d been shot or of the man at whom they’d thrown stones. But she felt certain they were both from the village. However, she couldn’t understand how these memories were connected to the screaming woman. Or maybe she just wasn’t letting herself understand. The thought made her realize that the memories were alive inside her, but that she was afraid of letting them come to the surface.
But, then, there must’ve been a good reason why she’d forgotten. As soon as she graduated from high school, she’d moved to Tokyo and started working there. Her parents had pleaded with her to come home, but she’d refused and ended up settling in Tokyo. In those days, Okinawans needed a passport to travel to Japan, and typical Okinawan surnames, such as Shimabukuro, were still considered unusual and led to people talking behind your back. Maybe that was why she’d left Okinawa and avoided going to the island during her rare visits; she had wanted to completely cut off all those memories.
That was probably the case, but after sixty years everything had grown hazy. On the one hand, she wanted to confront the past and piece together the fragments that were floating up out of her fading memory. On the other hand, she was terrified about knowing the past. Up until now, she’d lived without remembering, so surely there was no need to dredge up what she’d forgotten. But at the same time, she knew that if she left everything in its current vague state, she’d end up regretting it later. If her health took a turn for the worse, she wouldn’t be able to travel to the island anymore, and then it would be too late.
About a month ago, Hisako contacted her cousin Masao in Naha and asked him to find out if someone named Fumi Matsuda was living on the island. Fumi was a grade-school classmate who’d often taken her to pick up firewood or search for shellfish. She was the one who’d treated Hisako with the most kindness. If Fumi had gotten married, her last name would’ve changed, but Hisako remembered that Fumi had lived in a house facing a large open space near a huge banyan tree.
About a week later, Masao called with some information. He explained that he’d gone to the island over the weekend and asked around. He found out that Fumi had gotten married, and that her family name was now Toyama. She’d left the island and was now living in Nago, just to the south. After his explanation, Masao gave her Fumi’s current address and phone number.
Instead of calling right away, Hisako wrote a long letter first. It wasn’t just a matter of etiquette. If she’d phoned, and Fumi didn’t remember her, it would’ve been awkward. So she wanted to be cautious. In the letter, she wrote about some of the things they did together, and asked Fumi to reply if she remembered her. She ended with an apology for her rudeness in sending a letter so suddenly, after neglecting to write for nearly sixty years. After putting the letter in an envelope, she hesitated for another two days before finally mailing it. Hisako had lived on the island for only about a year, so she’d forgotten the names of almost all her classmates. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Fumi didn’t remember her. Hisako mailed the letter without expecting a reply, but she received a phone call from Fumi three nights later.
Fumi spoke as amiably as if they’d been in constant contact. Her voice sounded like that of an elderly woman, but her tone and use of the island language reminded Hisako of the girl from her childhood. After exchanging several letters and phone calls, Hisako wrote about her dream and asked Fumi if she knew what it might mean. She added that since she’d be visiting the island in a few days, Fumi could tell her what she knew then. An answer came in a letter. This was unusual because Fumi hated to write and usually phoned. In her letter, Fumi wrote that she knew the place of Hisako’s dream and would guide her there when she arrived in Okinawa. She added that she would also explain everything about the woman in her dream and the man in the cave.
Flights and hotels for Okinawa were mobbed during the summer, so Hisako’s children were nervous about her traveling alone and wanted her to wait until it got a little cooler. However, Hisako felt she was ready, so she went ahead and booked her flight anyway.
The bus arrived at the terminal at nine forty. They had agreed to meet at ten, but Fumi was already sitting on the bench at the station, waiting. When the bus stopped and their eyes met through the window, they recognized each other immediately. It was uncanny how Hisako could detect the remnants of childhood in Fumi’s face, even though she was over seventy years old. When Fumi smiled, her stern expression turned kind and gentle. Oh! It’s Fumi-chan! she thought when she saw her old friend’s smiling face. Sixty years had dissolved in an instant.
When she got off the bus, she saw that Fumi was with a man of about forty.
—Long time, no see, said Fumi.
Fumi beamed with delight as she grasped Hisako’s arms. Hisako
