—This is my eldest son, Yōichi.
When Fumi finally introduced the man at her side, he lowered his head as if attempting to make his huge body smaller.
—Let me take this to the car, he said, picking up Hisako’s bag.
They walked past the concrete block wall of the terminal to the car. Once everyone got in, they headed for the island. The plan was to explore until evening, and then have dinner and spend the night at Fumi’s house. Hisako normally wouldn’t have been so imposing, but since this was probably her last visit, she decided to accept Fumi’s kind offer.
On the way to the island, Hisako and Fumi filled each other in on their lives. Fumi had graduated from the University of the Ryukyus. She spent the next thirty plus years working as an elementary school teacher. Talking on the phone, Hisako had heard that Fumi’s last years before retirement had been spent at their old school, that she had married Shōei, who was also an elementary school teacher, and that they were now living with their son, Yōichi, and his family. When Hisako asked about Yōichi’s family, Fumi answered that Yōichi had three children and that the seven of them were living in a duplex.
—Every day is a lot of fun, she said.
But then, she suddenly fell silent, perhaps out of consideration for Hisako, who was living on her own. Yōichi, who was driving, picked up where his mother had left off. He was also a teacher, he said, and taught social studies at a junior high school. He explained that even though they were on summer break, he was busy with teacher training and supervising club activities. After Hisako thanked him for taking the time to be with them, he answered that he’d really wanted to hear about his mother’s wartime experiences, too. He added that up until now, he’d never heard anything. Fumi, who was looking over at him, seemed mildly annoyed. Hisako pictured the screaming woman with disheveled hair and became nervous. She reminded herself that she hadn’t come merely for a vacation but to confirm the truth with her own eyes and ears.
The concrete bridge crossing over to the island was approximately two hundred meters long.
—It’s so beautiful, said Hisako, commenting on the ocean.
—Not like it used to be, Fumi muttered.
Hisako couldn’t remember how the ocean looked, but she recalled crossing in a small boat with her family when they were moving back to Naha. As the boat pitched and rolled in the strong winds, she had clung to her mother and tried not to cry. The memory reminded her that her parents were now gone, and she felt overwhelmed with loneliness. She looked out the window to hide her tears.
After crossing the bridge and going a short distance, they stopped at a store and bought some bottled water and a bag of Okinawan brown sugar. Then they got back in the car and headed toward the woods on the hill in the central part of the island. Fumi explained that that was where the man Hisako remembered had hidden. On the way, Hisako was surprised at how much the scenery had changed. The narrow farm roads had been paved, and plots of farmland stretched into the distance. Everything was so different from the densely wooded island in her memory. As she stared at the sugarcane and pineapples planted in the reddish soil, she searched for signs of the scenery she remembered. But she could find nothing.
—It’s really changed, hasn’t it? said Fumi.
—If I’d come here on my own, I wouldn’t have known this was the right island.
—It confuses me sometimes, too, said Fumi in a sad voice.
When they reached the woods, they got out of the car. The path heading into the trees was covered with overhanging branches. If Yōichi hadn’t cut through the brush the day before, it would’ve been too dense for them to pass.
Yōichi broke off a branch and pulled off the leaves to make a whip.
—To keep the habu snakes away, he laughed.
Swatting to the right and the left, he headed down the path into the cool shade of the woods. Fumi followed behind him, and Hisako took up the rear. Poisonous habu snakes tend to shy away from the first person and aim for the second, Hisako recalled her father telling her as a child. That’s why Fumi’s in front of me, she thought, thanking her old friend in her heart. Hisako didn’t know the name of a single plant or tree, but the colors and smells of the subtropical varieties were much more intense than the cedar, zelkova, and ginkgo with which she was familiar. The density and vigor of the vegetation overpowered her, and the intense buzzing of cicadas echoing through the woods seemed to be right on top of them.
Sixty years ago, she and her mother had raced up this path with the other villagers. By the time they’d reached the top, everyone was completely out of breath. Now, she couldn’t climb at even half that speed. Why on earth had we been in such a hurry? As Hisako was pondering this, Fumi turned around and asked if she was all right. Hisako nodded with a smile and looked down at her feet. Her shoes were wet from the dew. She wondered what shoes she’d been wearing back then, but couldn’t remember.
After walking for nearly ten minutes, they still couldn’t see the cave. In her memory, they had arrived right away, so she was surprised they had to go so deep into the woods. Yōichi must’ve spent a long time cutting through the brush for them.
—Sorry for having caused so much trouble, Hisako called out from behind.
—Huh? asked Fumi, turning around.
Apparently she hadn’t heard.
—I didn’t know it was so far. I feel bad
