I Hear Them Cry Read online

  “I’ve caused you some trouble, haven’t I?” Jean said, intimately shaking hands with Shigeki. “Thanks to the fact that you didn’t press charges, Pierre has returned to work. Oh, and Mayu’s slap certainly helped as well. But the really good news is that Simone will be discharged soon.”

  “How wonderful! Pierre will be relieved,” I said before turning to Shigeki to offer him a quick rehash.

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Jean went on. “But heaps of problems remain, I’m afraid. Still, let’s have a drink anyway. I owe you one, Shigeki.”

  The three of us entered a nearby pub. Jean became intense, talking about how poverty was behind the birth of crime. He then remarked, “Look at you, Shigeki. The president of a company, at your age. That’s pretty impressive!”

  “Yes, well, I lost my father to an accident five years ago, so I had to take over his company. It was out of necessity. I’m still learning from the people around me.”

  “Accident?” Jean asked point-blank. He was always like that, smoothly slipping into people’s minds and hitting them with whatever thoughts he had on his own mind at that moment.

  “He left for a cruise one day and was later reported missing, lost at sea,” Shigeki said.

  “Is that right? How sad,” Jean said.

  “They never found his body. That is to say, they never found him inside the ship he had supposedly boarded. So I assume he went overboard. But what’s strange is that, to this day, I hear my dad bossing me around.” Shigeki fidgeted, moving his forefinger around the back of his ear. “I suppose it’s because I have yet to see his remains, so I’m not entirely convinced that guy’s dead.”

  As I interpreted for Jean, it didn’t escape me that Shigeki referred to his dad as “that guy.” I hesitated for an instant—mulling over the phrase’s nuance—before deciding to translate it literally.

  “Did you love your father?” Jean asked without hesitation.

  That was an embarrassing question, one I would not have asked. But Jean could get away with such probing questions. I’m glad he could because I was curious too.

  “That bastard?” Shigeki spat out. “No way!” But he added in a hurry, “Look, he was a strict father for sure, but I have respect for his achievements, for what he’s done for the company.”

  (The son who rejects his domineering father. Classic.)

  SHIGEKI: THREE

  After parting with Jean, Shigeki said he wanted to look at my paintings. “I really want to see the kinds of pictures you draw.”

  I opened my apartment door, revealing a living room the size of ten tatami mats, graced with a small table and a large hemp-colored sofa I had found at a thrift store. An easel stood by the window amid my oil painting tools and the place’s overall mess. My church paintings were propped against the walls, a second door led to my bedroom, which was about six tatami mats wide.

  But Shigeki didn’t seem to notice any of it. As soon as he walked in, he hugged me from behind and began planting hesitant kisses on the nape of my neck. A thin current—as gossamer as a strand of raw silk—zapped through me. My back, like candy dissolving in lukewarm water, gently leaned back, welcoming his embrace.

  His lips snuck around my throat; his right hand seized my chin, and my lips became sealed with his. The flame of desire lit up inside me, igniting a heat wave that blazed red through my core. His left hand glided down my back and his right hand began to fondle my breasts. Effortlessly, he carried me into the bedroom, where he deftly removed my blue blouse. As an act of defiance, I grasped his wrist and stopped his roving hand dead in its tracks. His piercing eyes locked with mine, rendering me helpless. His hand, free to wander again, pulled down my cotton panties in one stroke as he caressed my body, handling it as if it were a piece of fragile pottery.

  Before I knew it, his ferocious manhood was no longer concealed and I writhed and convulsed beneath it before it entered me. As though we were both on fire, he pounded me with a force strong enough to reawaken an ancient ecstasy, a sensation that had been embedded deep within women during a time before time.

  Harder, harder, harder. With each movement, my body thrust upward and clung to him. I was adrift in a primordial ocean until I became dizzy and eventually faded away into unconsciousness.

  (I was born to meet this man.)

  I do not know how much time had passed, but I stirred awake after catching a whiff of cigarette smoke. He was looking at his watch.

  (I wondered where he had to be. Was there another woman waiting for him?)

  It was that same old anxiety and doubt that always arrived in the wake of bliss. I quietly rested my head on his left shoulder.

  “Wide awake now, are we?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Then, as if he had sensed my jealousy, he whispered, “The French Minister of Finance is hosting a party. Would you like to come?”

  And just like that my anxiety vanished and I was embarking on a journey of exploration, where I would discover such things as the ulterior truths behind the words uttered by men. I would also realize that lessons from the past were pretty pointless.

  “Are you sure?” I said. “Would it really be all right if I accompanied you?” I was already daydreaming about the Chanel suit the old couple had bought for me.

  “Various bigwigs from the corporate world and from the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs will be showing up. I’m sure you’ll have a good time. It’s going to be a laid-back affair.”

  For that special day I bought a pair of shoes and a handbag. Starting then, I began to wear dresses. Little by little my heart was turning away from Joan of Arc and moving closer to Marie Antoinette.

  (But let me tell you, I was no condescending, let-them-eat-cake kind of queen. I knew poverty. There was no way in hell that I was going to the guillotines!)

  Shigeki’s hired car took us to the party, and when we arrived the place was already teeming with people. Most of them were businessmen decked out in suits, but dispersed among them—like stitching in embroidery—were stylish ladies, well-appointed businesswomen, and trendy mademoiselles chatting pleasantly. The hall was like a trade fair, showcasing lines of French products. People swarmed around Shigeki as soon as he entered.

  “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need to talk a little shop with these people. Feel free to look around and mingle. I’ll be right back.”

  He went off with some people, and I stood there taking in the scene.

  “Hey, aren’t you the interpreter from the police station?” When I turned around, there was Shigeki’s friend from that night. She introduced herself as Noriko and said she was a flight attendant.

  “Interpreting today?”

  “Um, yes, I suppose.”

  Since I had no idea what kind of relationship Shigeki and Noriko had, it seemed wise to answer vaguely. I could tell she was also wondering about me, casually looking me over as if to make an appraisal.

  “This may be none of my business, but it’s probably best that you don’t get too deeply involved with him,” she warned me. “He’s a onetime divorcé with a child, you know.”

  I wondered if she had noticed the carnal scent wafting off me. She stared deep into my eyes as if she could observe my passing thoughts.

  “Despite his child,” she continued, “there’s no end to the stream of women going after him. They all want a wealthy man for a boyfriend, after all.”

  I was feigning indifference, but my ears were as large as Dumbo’s.

  “Anyway, what I’m saying is this, my dear: he’s made many women cry, if you know what I mean.”

  “Does the child live with his ex-wife?” I asked before realizing it was a dumb question. It laid bare my interest in Shigeki. But I couldn’t control myself. I was burning with curiosity.

  “The mother has passed away,” Noriko said condescendingly. “Rumor has it that her death was either accidental or a suicide.”

  My unease must have been visible because Noriko took pleasure in my agitated demeanor.
/>   “She was a foreigner working in the red-light district. You know what I mean? A woman like that, the Tachibana family would never approve. I really don’t know what happened, exactly, but it’s been said that she died on board a cruise ship.”

  “On a cruise ship? His father also died on a cruise ship.”

  “The Tachibana family’s cruiser must be cursed,” she said through a smirk.

  “Who’s taking care of the child?”

  (What an idiot I was! Prying again.)

  “He hasn’t said a word to you, has he?” Noriko said, grinning mischievously. She slowly lifted her wineglass, as if to flaunt that Shigeki had entirely opened up to her, that she was on intimate terms with him.

  “Apparently,” she continued in a vexing tone, “his mother is taking care of the child—with the help of a maid, that is.”

  I scanned the crowd and found Shigeki having a friendly chat with a woman whose hair was straight, long, and raven black.

  “She’s the daughter of the undersecretary of the Japanese embassy,” Noriko said. “She’s the closest person to him in his life now. You know what I mean?”

  Noriko’s taunting tone was a cruel blow to my heart. I could tell she was trying to tell me, “To Shigeki, a young minx like you is no more than a slightly amusing diversion.”

  Noriko spotted an acquaintance and abruptly walked off, apparently satisfied that she had fulfilled her mission.

  So it was just a temporary love affair in France, I thought to myself as I turned away from Shigeki and stared at the garden outside the window. The immaculately kept green shrubs were graced with a profusion of roses in bloom, a model garden with not a single blade of grass out of place; certainly no place for this free-spirited wildflower. I wondered why Shigeki had brought me here.

  As I continued to brood, a young French man approached and asked how I was enjoying the party. He was a salesman for a French wine supplier and introduced himself as Alan. After I talked about my drawings and part-time jobs, he offered to whisk me away on a drive and show me around.

  “If we take a short trip to the suburbs,” he said, “we can drive along a street lined with marronnier trees. It’s a beautiful sight.”

  “Sounds lovely!”

  “Okay, then! I promise: I’ll come pick you up sometime.”

  I was enjoying that intimate chat with Alan as half of me burned with a sense of rivalry against Shigeki. It was then that my cell phone rang.

  ANNA: ONE

  “Mayu,” Jean said, “something serious has happened.”

  “What is it?” I asked, the alarm in Jean’s voice making me tighten my grip on the phone.

  “Pierre stabbed his mother.”

  Just like that, I was dragged down from the opulent heights of this party and the world it represented, falling back down to the cruel world of violence and horror with the poor people of the church community. Shigeki’s contribution had been tossed in a ditch after all.

  “I’m at the hospital now, but Anna is frightened.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said.

  Anna’s eyes were wide open in terror. I heard her cry,

  Help. Help. Somebody help.

  I failed to do anything for my grandmother that time. It happened when I was in the third grade. As dusk approached, a dim light appeared in the kitchen’s bay window.

  “Excuse me, which way to Hikami? It’s in Hyōgo Prefecture? I’ve lost my way.”

  It was my grandmother, holding a rolled-up newspaper that she had set on fire and was using like a torch. Although this is where she had been born and bred, she was aimlessly wandering around.

  “Hello? Hello? Can anyone tell me? Hikami? I’m trying to get to—”

  My mother, having seen the “torch,” ran from the garden and emptied a bucket of water over Grandmother’s head. The flame had been on the verge of spreading to her kimono cuff. She stood there in a wet daze, cloaked in the cold autumn twilight, unable to grasp what had just happened.

  Having witnessed this spectacle, I was left speechless. But what shocked me most wasn’t Grandmother’s odd behavior, but my mother’s merciless act of dousing her. I sensed in my mother something akin to hatred. She had demonstrated such intense resolve.

  Then, all at once, I saw what was in the depths of Grandmother’s heart. I knew then that everything would be all right if I simply hugged her and stayed close to her. All she wanted was a place where she could feel safe and secure—where she could have peace of mind.

  Anna, darling, you just hang in there, okay? I’m coming for you.

  Seeing how quickly my demeanor had changed, Alan said, “What’s going on? Do you need a ride? My car’s outside.” I took advantage of his kindness and left a message for Shigeki, telling him that something urgent had arisen.

  When I arrived at the hospital, I was asking myself what had come over Pierre. Jean was sitting in a chair, looking sad with his shoulders drooped and his head in his hands. He seemed to be at his wit’s end. Anna was clinging to Jean’s right arm.

  “Simone narrowly escaped death, Mayu,” Jean said.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m in the dark. Simone had turned over a new leaf, and even Pierre was doing his best.”

  I coaxed Anna away from Jean and embraced her.

  “I’ll be going to the police now,” Jean said. “You’ll stay with Anna?”

  “Of course.”

  Alan drove Anna and me home. Anna fell asleep in the car, the shock and fatigue of the day catching up with her. We arrived at my apartment before long. Alan carried her inside and put her in my bed.

  I prepared some coffee. I was so fraught with tension that it felt like each one of my nerve fibers was stretched abnormally thin, ready to split apart at any moment. Not only had Pierre stabbed his mother, but I couldn’t shake what Noriko had told me about Shigeki. These thoughts swirled in my head, creating eddies of confusion. Slowly, the aroma of the coffee calmed my mind—but not for long.

  Shigeki entered the apartment just as Alan stepped out of the bedroom after putting Anna to sleep. Before I could even begin to think about what to say, Shigeki slapped me.

  “I didn’t think you were that kind of a woman,” he said.

  My mind went blank. I had no idea what was happening.

  “Hey, calm down,” Alan said, stepping between Shigeki and me. Shigeki grabbed Alan’s lapels and suddenly took a swing at him, knocking him off his feet.

  “Stop!” I hollered while attempting to push away Shigeki and protect Alan. But this only inflamed the situation. Shigeki pushed me into the bedroom door with such force that it opened.

  Standing there, Anna looked horrified. Shigeki turned stiff for an instant and stared at Anna and Alan before resting his eyes on me, his body drooping.

  “It appears that I have done a terrible thing,” Shigeki said, offering his hand to Alan.

  “Yes, you have,” I said. Then I guided Anna back to the bedroom, where I lulled her to sleep.

  When I returned to the living room, the two men had become calm. It was as if nothing had happened.

  “I’ll be leaving now, Mayu. It appears that I’m intruding,” Alan said.

  “Thank you so much for your help today, really—I mean it.”

  Shigeki turned to Alan and said, “I’m genuinely sorry. Mayu, would you convey my apologies again?”

  Alan waved his hand, as if to say nevermind, and left.

  As soon as the front door closed, Shigeki approached me from behind and placed his hand around my waist, whispering into my ear, “I was in pain. My chest was burning up—I’ve never experienced such a sensation before. It’s my first time. Can you forgive me?”

  When I turned around, instead of answering, I wrapped my arms around his neck and passionately returned his kiss. At that moment, I was aggressively driving away the other women in Shigeki’s life, kicking them out, walking all over them. Noriko’s warning be damned! It was absolutely meaningless to me. We drifted toward the sofa a
nd fell over each other to become one.

  Mayu, Mayu, Mayu.

  Over and over again he whispered my name into my ear. It began to overlap with Anna’s cry; it was a cry for help, a cry that brought to mind the picture of Anna desperately trying to hold on to someone.

  Was it just my imagination?

  ANNA: TWO

  I was talking to Shigeki about Anna and Pierre when Anna awoke and timidly entered the room. With her wrinkled T-shirt and soft blonde hair disheveled, she looked strangely sensual. When she noticed Shigeki relaxing in a chair at the dining table, holding a cup of coffee in one hand, she quickly pulled back her hair, smoothing and arranging it. Looking all prim and proper, she approached the table, rested her chin on her right hand, and said in a very languid, apathetic fashion, “Mayu, I’m thirsty. I’d like some juice.” She was clearly ignoring Shigeki while being mindful of his presence.

  Shigeki was watching Anna, but he wasn’t perceptive enough to see that Anna was a wounded soul, so he seemed to be hesitating, clueless about how best to interact with her. He glanced at his watch, got up, said—“Mayu, I’ll call you later”—and promptly left.

  “He likes you, doesn’t he, Mayu?” Anna said.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if she was really just seven years old. Did she actually say what she did with the understanding that male jealousy was in play when she saw Shigeki striking Alan?

  Jean had firmly told me not to thoughtlessly ask her any questions about the incident. Unless a child psychologist was present, we were not to meddle with her mind.

  “Hey,” I said, “it seems your mom’s going to be fine. That’s great news.”

  Anna said nothing. I got up and prepared a bowl of soup and served it along with some bread and cheese. I thought this might comfort her, but she had only a few sips of the soup, and hardly put anything else in her mouth. A few minutes later, though, she said under her breath, “What’s going to happen to my brother?”