“What do you want me to do, Kat?”
Twisting around, a big smile stretches across my face. “Book me a flight to Tokyo, please.”
Present Day
Nagano, Japan
Mayako
“ARE YOU IN LOVE?” I chuckle.
Smiling, Emiko moves around the bed. She swipes her hair away from her face. “Mayako, you shouldn’t ask me such things.” Her eyes are bright. “A girl’s secrets are her own.”
I frown when she helps me to sit up, drops to the floor and puts on my shoes.
Beyond the glass window is endless green for miles and pure blue sky.
Mount Fuji lingers in the distance under the morning sun as fluffy white clouds float past it. It’s stunning. I smile at the sight of our tallest mountain—one perfect, solitary symmetrical volcano. Its snow-capped peak clearly visible from where I sit even though it’s hundreds of miles away.
Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” plays on the stereo.
I’ve been here for over seven years now, wasting away and waiting to die.
It still hasn’t happened yet.
And with each season that passes, I wonder why.
“A girl’s secrets are her own, yes, but what good are they if she has no one to share them with.” I exhale.
Emiko shoots up to stand.
Reaching out, I cup her cheek, adoring the softness of her skin.
I see a bit of myself in her eyes and when I peer deeper, I find youth, innocence, and a soul untainted by the pain and disappointment of life in Emiko.
She smiles. “Do you want me to share my secrets with you?”
“No.” The word leaves me in a drawl. “No, one day you will find a pretty girl to share them with, Emiko. Not me. I am old. And dry. And boring.” I laugh.
She does too. “No, you aren’t, Mayako.” She points a finger at me. “Did you know you are the only resident here who insists I address them by their first name?”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Her dark hair swishes as she nods fiercely just once.
“Oh, I guess that makes me cool then.”
“Yes, it does.”
We laugh.
I take a few seconds to stare at the photograph on the nightstand and smile. Then, I run the pad of my finger over the wedding band I’ll never take off. The skin there is wrinkled and pale, though still soft.
As a girl I spent so much time admiring myself.
Standing in front of the mirror.
Trying to stay slim.
And posing every chance I got.
Any slumping would earn me a cane across the back. It was a move that quickly sent you upright again and not daring to risk bad posture or a crooked stance.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room and smile when I find that my posture is just as rigid as it’s always been. Square shoulders. A stiff upper torso. Toes pointed out. Chin up. They’re rules you will never forget. Habits which are hard to break.
I can still hear her voice these days, screaming at me, directing me. I can still feel her cold clammy hands on my skin. The scent of her rose perfume. I can still smell the cigarettes on her breath and recall the vision of her painted-red lips in my face.
With a laugh, I shudder like some cold breeze has swept over me.
It’s funny how memories stay with you…even the bad ones.
The clock on the wall tells me it’s getting up to ten o’clock in the morning.
The days here go by slowly most of the time. Often, somewhere in between there is entertainment. I fraternize with some of the other residents sometimes. But often I find it only makes me sad since some of the elderly here are on their last days. They can’t walk. They can’t talk. They can’t remember their own names. It’s difficult to sustain a conversation with someone who can’t remember their own name, believe me. So, much of the time I stay in this very large room that has all the comforts of home in it, or I sit out on the deck, one of my favorite spots here at Heiwa.
Emiko makes sure fresh lilies are brought here every two days and that I have more books than any woman could ever find the time to read.
I like it here, especially knowing it will be the last place I’ll ever call home before I go.
Emiko tidies up the bed, making it as neat as possible since I’m still sitting on it and clicks off the television.
Usually around this time, we have tea together and talk about the latest fashions then Emiko puts on music for me. I am almost halfway through a girl named Ariana Grande’s latest album.
Of course, I have no clue who this apparently famous girl is. I only listen, read, and watch everything Emiko tells me to.
“I remember when I was thirty years old, like you.” I chuckle.
Emiko rushes around the room and grabs my shawl, throwing it over my shoulders.
My brows scrunch, confused. “Where are we going? It’s Tuesday. This is the day we watch movies.”
“Well, not today, Mayako.”
“Well, w-w-why not?” I’m genuinely upset! I hate when my routine schedule is disrupted.
Emiko smirks. “Because you have a guest.”
“A guest?” The word is foreign on my tongue.
“Yes.”
I don’t get visitors often since this place is so far out and Ren is long gone.
All my friends have gone away too.
The only friend I have these days is Emiko who is here seven days a week to deal with old boorish me.
Emiko hooks her arm around my side and helps me into my wheelchair.
I’m unable to control how grumpy I feel inside.
“Come on, Mayako, cheer up. This might be fun.”
Yeah, sure.
Present Day
Nagano, Japan
Katsuma
I THOUGHT SHE’D BE friendlier…
Mayako Wada is eighty-six years old now.
With Gunther’s help, I’d researched the names of all the locally famous ballet dancers in Tokyo after the war and her name came up. Only the first one though, no surname at all.
It took me two days to find her here.
And that was after I’d spent more than sixteen hours on a direct flight from New York City. I’m jet-lagged, stressed out, and everything in between.
Finding Mayako here only happened to be by chance. The woman I was chatting with in the airport lounge told me that a casual friend she’d met through a friend-of-a-friend sort of thing cares for a woman named Mayako—an old woman who used to be a dancer. It all led me straight here to this posh retirement home called Heiwa, which could double as a fancy hotel/spa retreat in the Oko-Subana Valley.
The grounds are nicely kept. There are fountains everywhere trickling with water in a way that is supposed to soothe the mind. Low lighting and fresh flowers dot the inside of this beautiful place leaving a crisp linen scent everywhere which overlaps a hint of lavender.
In the distance are the rolling maple tree-covered valleys and freshwater streams.
The staff are friendly and the residents here are clearly people who can afford such expensive living quarters.
Mayako sits across from me and keeps her eyes fixed on the incredible view.
In the last hour, she has focused her eyes on everything besides my face. She doesn’t want me here. I can feel it in my bones.
“I’m sorry.” Emiko touches my shoulder.