“The name of my composition is ‘Big Water,’” Akari said firmly.
2
“Instead of heading straight back to the house, how would it be if we took a scenic detour through the forest? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about,” Ricchan said as we drove away from the Saya. (Akari was in the back of the van, listening to music on headphones.) When I agreed, Ricchan made a perceptible shift from casual conversation to serious-discussion mode.
“Unaiko was saying all along that she really hoped we’d be able to persuade you to be a part of our new drama project,” she began. “As you know, I wrote about it in my journal. We’re very grateful to you for agreeing to work with us, but now that we’ve reached this stage, I feel the time has come for me to share some of my concerns.
“I know Masao thinks I’m just some kind of robot who runs around mindlessly doing Unaiko’s bidding. Admittedly, that’s been our basic dynamic during the past ten years or so, and it’s certainly true that now, as always, my energies are focused on trying to make Unaiko’s vision a reality. But this time there’s more to it. I should probably begin by saying that since our current project is a stage adaptation that more or less follows the plot of a movie, and since you wrote the screenplay for the film in question, your cooperation will be invaluable. I think Masao and the other members of the Caveman Group decided to participate in the project mainly because they heard you would be involved. The thing is, there’s another, hidden aspect to this undertaking — something that has a very personal significance for Unaiko — and I’m concerned because she hasn’t yet talked to you about it. When I asked her when she was going to get around to doing that, she said, ‘Well, the tragic aspect of the Meisuke’s mother story is implicitly present in Mr. Choko’s original screenplay, so what’s the problem?’ But the thing is, I know she’s going to put her own stamp on this, using her patented ‘Unaiko method’ with the dog-tossing and all. And I suspect that, just as she did with her previous productions, she’ll probably plow ahead in a completely oblivious, egocentric way. Because of the controversial nature of the subject matter, and the forthright way she’s planning to approach it, I’m afraid you might find yourself mixed up in something more complicated than you bargained for.
“So basically, I wanted to make sure you’d been properly warned that the upcoming performance has the potential to blow up in our faces. There’s also the question of how Akari will react. He isn’t only meticulous about the way he listens to his music; he also pays close attention to anything having to do with his father. I’m worried that something very distressing for him might happen as a direct result of your involvement in this project.
“To be honest, at this early stage I can’t predict what sort of outrageous thing Unaiko might toss out during the actual performance. (You know how she loves to improvise and shock the audience!) I wouldn’t dream of betraying her confidence, and in any case she’ll probably tell you about the matter in question herself before too long. This might sound like an exaggeration, but I suspect the thing she hasn’t yet told you about, which was an exceedingly traumatic experience, had a profound effect on Unaiko — not only on her art, but on her entire life.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be cryptic, but as I said it isn’t my place to tell you the details. What I would like to talk about right now, in a completely objective way, is the current state of affairs surrounding this play. You’ve probably heard about this from Daio, but after the show at the junior high (you know, the dog-tossing version of Kokoro) a lot of people were angry about certain aspects of Unaiko’s way of thinking. Those people are mostly from the right-wing faction that has been very influential in this prefecture’s educational circles for many years. (We learned about this from Daio, so I’m assuming you’ve heard about it as well.) Anyway, some of their representatives are going to be present in the audience at our next performance as spies. Apparently those people have already bought tickets and reserved their seats. The question is, where will they be focusing their animosity? Right now I know they’re gathering information about the scene depicting the rape of Meisuke’s mother, the way you described it in your original draft of the screenplay. (As we all know, that hit very close to home for Sakura Ogi Magarshack because of what happened to her as a young girl.) Those people have also been in contact with the women I’ve been interviewing as part of my background research. It isn’t entirely clear what happened, but apparently the scene that was initially filmed ended up being completely scrubbed from the final print, either by order of the NHK network here in Japan (which was coproducing the film) or the distribution company in America.
“Recently those local right-wingers have started publicly flexing their muscles, saying things like ‘We’re the ones who got the scene taken out of the movie, you know,’ so they were predictably upset when they heard that Unaiko is trying to include the deleted scene in the play. The part where Meisuke’s mother — who is injured, exhausted, and probably in shock — is being carried on a stretcher made from an old wooden shutter is important, but Unaiko wants to restore the narrative’s original integrity by resurrecting the previous scene, in which Meisuke’s mother is raped and her reborn son, the supposed reincarnation of the original Meisuke, is stoned to death. Unaiko and I (and Masao, too) are certain there’s at least one spy from the other side skulking around the project, and we’re doing our best to smoke them out. We’ve also heard that they are up in arms about your supposed rewriting of modern history through the lens of your contempt for your native province. (Needless to say, those are their words, not mine.)
“The other day when I was at the supermarket in Honmachi I happened to run into Daio, and he had just come from scouting a meeting of the right-wing group. As for Unaiko, she said that even if she told you there was a battle brewing, she didn’t think you would ever turn tail and run away at this advanced stage of the proceedings. Of course Unaiko is absolutely determined to stand her ground and deal directly with the neonationalists’ catcalls and objections and so on, during the performance and afterward as well. To that end, she added a couple of lines to the battle-cry recitative and tweaked the last line a bit. So now it will be: Men commit rape — that’s nothing new / But countries can be rapists, too. / Women warriors, here we go / Off to vanquish every foe!
“And during the chant, dolls representing the spirit of the reincarnation of Meisuke II will be flying through the air. (Naturally, we’ll need to get your approval for those additions, since you are the original author of the chant we’ll be using.) Even so — and this is something we’ve experienced with other dog-tossing performances — no matter how forceful the hard-liners’ arguments might be, I think it’s going to be difficult for them to push the entire audience into an emotional meltdown. But never fear, Unaiko is preparing for that eventuality, and she’s going to have an ace up her sleeve. I’m not in a position to reveal the details to you right now, Mr. Choko; I’ll only say that this is the thing I alluded to earlier. You really need to hear about it directly from Unaiko, and I’m sure she’s planning to tell you before too long.”
I had no intention of trying to force Ricchan to disclose any details about the mysterious “thing,” but I did venture a question regarding another matter that had been bothering me.
“The other day Unaiko turned up with a man she introduced as her boyfriend,” I said. “He and I hit it off quite well, and we had an unusually candid conversation. However, toward the end of our visit Unaiko seemed to have an emotional meltdown, to use your term, and she even started to cry. I was wondering whether you might have any idea what could have caused her to react that way?”