“No, no. I have a few minutes yet. A pity you weren’t passing a little earlier. Perhaps you’d care to call in before you leave Nagasaki.”
“Yes, I’ll try to. But there’s so many people to visit.”
“Yes, I can understand how it is.”
“And your mother, is she well?”
“Yes, she’s fine. Thank you.”
For a moment, they fell silent again.
“I’m glad everything’s going well,” Ogata-San said, eventually. “Yes, we were just passing this way and I was telling Etsuko-San you lived here. In fact, I was just remembering how you used to come and play with Jiro, when you were both little boys.”
Shigeo Matsuda laughed. “Time really flies by, doesn’t it?” he said.
“Yes. I was just saying as much to Etsuko. In fact, I was just about to tell her about a curious little thing. I happened to remember it, when I saw your house. A curious little thing.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes. I just happened to remember it when I saw your house, that’s all. You see, I was reading something the other day. An article in a journal. The New Education Digest, I think it was called.”
The young man said nothing for a moment, then he adjusted his position on the pavement and put down his briefcase.
“I see,” he said.
“I was rather surprised to read it. In fact, I was quite astonished.”
“Yes. I suppose you would be.”
“It was quite extraordinary, Shigeo. Quite extraordinary.”
Shigeo Matsuda took a deep breath and looked down at the ground. He nodded, but said nothing.
“I’d meant to come and speak to you for some days now,” Ogata-San continued. “But of course, the matter slipped my mind. Shigeo, tell me honestly, do you believe a word of what you wrote? Explain to me what made you write such things. Explain it to me, Shigeo, then I can go home to Fukuoka with my mind at rest. At the moment, I’m very puzzled.”
Shigeo Matsuda was prodding a pebble with the end of his shoe. Finally he sighed, looked up at Ogata-San and adjusted his spectacles.
“Many things have changed over the last few years,” he said.
“Well, of course they have. I can see that much. What kind of answer is that, Shigeo?”
“Ogata-San, let me explain.” He paused and looked down at the ground again. For a second or two, he scratched at his ear. “You see, you must understand. Many things have changed now. And things are changing still. We live in a different age from those days when … when you were an influential figure.”
“But, Shigeo, what has this to do with anything? Things may change, but why write such an article? Have I ever done something to offend you?”
“No, never. At least, not to me personally.”
“I should think not. Do you remember the day I introduced you to the principal at your school? That wasn’t so long ago, was it? Or was that perhaps a different era too?”
“Ogata-San” — Shigeo Matsuda had raised his voice, and an air of authority seemed to enter his manner — “Ogata-San, I only wish you’d called in an hour earlier. Then perhaps I’d have been able to explain at greater length. There isn’t time to talk the whole thing over now. But let me just say this much. Yes, I believed everything I wrote in that article and still do. In your day, children in Japan were taught terrible things. They were taught lies of the most damaging kind. Worst of all, they were taught not to see, not to question. And that’s why the country was plunged into the most evil disaster in her entire history.”
“We may have lost the war,” Ogata-San interrupted, “but that’s no reason to ape the ways of the enemy. We lost the war because we didn’t have enough guns and tanks, not because our people were cowardly, not because our society was shallow. You have no idea, Shigeo, how hard we worked, men like myself, men like Dr Endo, whom you also insulted in your article. We cared deeply for the country and worked hard to ensure the correct values were preserved and handed on.”
“I don’t doubt these things. I don’t doubt you were sincere and hard working. I’ve never questioned that for one moment. But it just so happens that your energies were spent in a misguided direction, an evil direction. You weren’t to know this, but I’m afraid it’s true. It’s all behind us now and we can only be thankful.”
“This is extraordinary, Shigeo. Can you really believe this? Who taught you to say such things?”
“Ogata-San, be honest with yourself. In your heart of hearts, you must know yourself what I’m saying is true. And to be fair, you shouldn’t be blamed for not realizing the true consequences of your actions. Very few men could see where it was all leading at the time, and those men were put in prison for saying what they thought. But they’re free now, and they’ll lead us to a new dawn.”
“A new dawn? What nonsense is this?”
“Now, I must be on my way. I’m sorry we couldn’t discuss this any longer.”
“What is this, Shigeo? How can you say these things? You obviously have no idea of the effort and devotion men like Dr Endo gave to their work. You were just a small boy then, how could you know how things were? How can you know what we gave and what we achieved?”
“As a matter of fact, I do happen to be familiar with certain aspects of your career. For instance, the sacking and imprisoning of the five teachers at Nishizaka. April of 1938, if I’m not mistaken. But those men are free now, and they’ll help us reach a new dawn. Now please excuse me.” He picked up his briefcase and bowed to us in turn. “My regards to Jiro,” he added, then turned and walked away.
Ogata-San watched the young man disappear down the hill. He continued to stand there for several more moments, not speaking. Then when he turned to me, there was a smile around his eyes.
“How confident young men are,” he said. “I suppose I was much the same once. Very sure of my opinions.”
“Father,” I said. “Perhaps we should go and see Mrs Fujiwara now. It’s time we ate lunch.”
“Why, of course, Etsuko. This is very inconsiderate of me, making you stand about in this heat. Yes, let’s go and see the good lady. I’ll be very pleased to see her again.”
We made our way down the hill, then crossed a wooden bridge over a narrow river. Below us, children were playing along the riverbank, some with fishing poles. Once, I said to Ogata-San:
“What nonsense he was speaking.”
“Who? You mean Shigeo?”
“What vile nonsense. I don’t think you should pay the slightest attention, Father.”
Ogata-San laughed, but made no reply.
As always at that hour, the shopping area of the district was busy with people. On entering the shaded forecourt of the noodle shop, I was pleased to see several of the tables occupied with customers. Mrs Fujiwara saw us and came across the forecourt.
“Why, Ogata-San,” she exclaimed, recognizing him immediately, “how splendid to see you again. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“A long time indeed.” Ogata-San returned the bow Mrs Fujiwara gave him. “Yes, a long time.”
I was struck by the warmth with which they greeted each other, for as far as I knew Ogata-San and Mrs Fujiwara had never known one another well. They exchanged what seemed an endless succession of bows, before Mrs Fujiwara went to fetch us something to eat.
She returned presently with two steaming bowls, apologizing that she had nothing better for us. Ogata-San bowed appreciatively and began to eat.
“I thought you’d have forgotten me long ago, Mrs Fujiwara,” he remarked with a smile. “Indeed, it’s been a long time.”
“It’s such a pleasure to meet again like this,” Mrs Fujiwara said, seating herself on the edge of my bench. “Etsuko tells me you reside in Fukuoka these days. I visited Fukuoka several times. A fine city, isn’t it?”