That afternoon Takeru was watching high-school baseball on TV with Mitsuko when he heard Hii-chan’s truck pull up behind the house.
“Octopus!” cried Hii-chan, coming into the garden with a net bag.
Mitsuko immediately stood and went outside.
“It’s huge!” she said.
“They caught it in a pot this mornin’, and it’s been in a tank by the quay all day. They brought it out just now and gave it t’me.”
Takeru joined them outside. They were standing by the washtub, looking down at the soft mass of red and black that had slipped from the net bag. Takeru prodded the slimy body nervously with his finger. The color changed slightly where he touched it. It was beautiful. But Takeru said, “Ugh! It’s disgusting!”
“It may look disgustin’, but it’ll taste good,” said Mitsuko happily. “And it’s so big!”
“Boil it over charcoal—it’ll be wonderful,” Hii-chan said.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Mitsuko, retrieving the charcoal grill from the storage space.
She asked Hii-chan to light the grill and went into the kitchen, bringing out a large tin bowl and a box of salt. The octopus clung to her hands as she lifted it from the tub. She crouched down, put it into the bowl on the ground, poured a vast quantity of salt on it, and rubbed it vigorously.
“Do you always use so much?” asked Takeru.
“You’ll never get the slime off otherwise,” she said.
She squeezed her fingers tight as she pulled the octopus through her hand. From time to time she lifted it and then brought it down hard against the bottom of the bowl. The octopus was now covered in thick white bubbles—a mixture of salt and slime. For some reason Takeru thought of his brother. It was strange that nobody ever asked about him. Mitsuko pressed her fingers hard into the inside of the octopus’s head and pushed it inside out.
“Ugh!” cried Takeru.
He shuddered at the different shapes and colors of the octopus’s guts. Mitsuko scraped them away, throwing them nonchalantly into the sink.
“Water’s ready,” said Hii-chan, a fan in one hand. A large gold-colored tin pot was bubbling away over the grill.
“Well,” said Hii-chan. “I done my bit, so I’ll be off t’home now.” He smiled at Takeru. “Enjoy it!”
“We’ll bring some over when it’s ready,” said Mitsuko.
“Don’t bother. I had some the other day. Eat it all yourselves.”
He walked to his truck and waved.
Mitsuko took the lid off the pot and slipped the octopus into the seething water.
“Oh, I forgot somethin’,” she said, then disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with some tea leaves and vinegar and put them into the boiling water. “That’ll help soften the octopus,” she said.
“Mitsuko?” said Takeru.
“Yes?”
“In that photo on the altar there’s that child named Bunji, right?”
“Bunji? Oh yeah, Bunji.”
“You said he died when he was small. Are you sure?”
Mitsuko’s face flickered with surprise. She looked at him, as though trying to figure him out.
“Why’re you askin’ ’bout that again?”
Takeru hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to say it: I know him; I’ve seen him; I’m always hearing his voice. He couldn’t say that. Instead his mouth said:
“How did he die? Was he sick?”
“I may’ve said he died when he was little, but I suppose he was ’bout twelve or thirteen. It was before I was born, so I don’t know that much ’bout him, but they say he was a bit weak—not just his body, his head too. He didn’t go t’school—he couldn’t. These days there’re schools for people like that, but not back then. But havin’ him wanderin’ around the village wasn’t no nuisance to people. I suppose they just accepted it. One day, though, he went away somewhere.”
“Went away somewhere? You mean he disappeared?”
“Yeah,” said Mitsuko, lifting the lid of the pot to check on the octopus.
“Where?”
“Nobody knew. Night came and he didn’t come home. The whole village was worried ’bout him. In those days when someone disappeared people thought they’d been taken by spirits. If it happened in the mountains, they’d blame tengu; if it was at sea, they’d blame sea spirits. It was that long ago. Anyway, the last place Bunji was seen was Lion Cross Point. A fisherman was comin’ back t’shore in his boat when he looked over to the point and saw him and another child of ’bout the same height… People thought the other one must’ve been Takeshi, his younger brother—the one we all thought ya were named after. He was a kind and clever boy. He always was lookin’ after Bunji—like Takeshi was the older brother and Bunji the younger one. From what the fisherman said it sounded like Takeshi was leadin’ Bunji by the hand. Everybody asked Takeshi, but he said he didn’t know anythin’ ’bout it, that he never went as far as Lion Cross Point. Well, Takeshi wasn’t the type of child to tell lies, so in the end everybody came ’round to thinkin’ Bunji had drowned. So, though I said he died, nobody had any real proof. There wasn’t a body, so they couldn’t be sure he was dead. And we can’t ask Takeshi again now—he’s not with us anymore either. I expect they’re together in Heaven, walkin’ along hand in hand, just like they did here.”
“Mitsuko,” said Takeru. Or perhaps he didn’t.
Takeshi was lying, he wanted to say. He was with Bunji. I know he was.
Because Takeru saw them. He didn’t know whether they were at Lion Cross Point, but he saw Takeshi and Bunji walking together. Takeshi went ahead and Bunji tried to keep up with him. Takeshi looked irritated, as though Bunji were a nuisance. Bunji walked at Takeshi’s heels, keeping as close as he could. His elbows were bent, and he looked off-balance, as though he might fall over or walk into the middle of the road at any moment. There wouldn’t have been any cars here in those days. The road wouldn’t have been paved. But Takeru saw the odd car go by, sometimes a truck or bus.
Strangely, they were both wearing caps. Takeshi’s was a Man U cap, and Bunji’s—FC Barcelona. But maybe it wasn’t so strange after all—both clubs are over a hundred years old. Where were the boys going? They kept on walking. Even farther? Even farther. The older one needed to pee—the younger one knew the signs. There was a large field beside the road. There was a notice that said “For Sale.” Were there any broad open spaces like that near the village? Maybe there had been then—there would have been many fewer houses in those days. The younger one took down the older one’s pants at the corner of the field. As soon as they were down, dark yellow pee spurted out from the tip of his swollen penis. It landed on the grass, and some splashed against Takeru’s shin—not Takeru’s… Takeshi’s. The grass where the pee hit turned yellow, turned brown, turned black, as though it had been burned. It withered away almost instantly. No, just the opposite. It grew… furiously twining around the boys’ feet. So they left. The older one’s pants weren’t all the way up, so his bottom was showing and people snickered as they passed. They could laugh. That was okay. They could mock. That was okay. But why didn’t they stop them? The boys waited at the bus stop. After a while a bus came. Do you go to the aquarium? Takeshi asked the driver. So Takeshi wanted to go there too, thought Takeru. But was there an aquarium in those days? The village is by the sea. They don’t have to go to an aquarium to see things—well maybe they couldn’t see sea otters, but lobsters, crabs, octopuses, rays, even dolphins were just there. And what would be the point of going now? There are no dolphins at the aquarium anymore. Perhaps Takeshi didn’t know. The dolphins weren’t there, which meant the older brother couldn’t swim with them, which meant he’d never get better. Get on this bus to the terminal, then change to the 6 or the 21, said the driver. Takeshi took a ten-thousand-yen note from his pocket to pay for the tickets. It was just like the one that Joel had given Takeru. Had Yukichi Fukuzawa’s face been on the note for so long? Someone in the village said Fukuzawa came from their own Oita prefecture. But someone else said he came from the northern part and had nothing to do with the south. So there’s no luck with money or work in the south, said another. The driver frowned at the bill. Got nothin’ smaller? Then he looked at the older brother. Don’t worry about his fare, he said. Why? Just don’t. Was it because Bunji didn’t go to school and so didn’t qualify as a student for fares? Don’t worry about yours either, said the driver. Was it because there was almost nobody on the bus? It’s okay. Just get on, said the driver, giving a slow wink. Just don’t tell anyone. Takeru didn’t see much of them after that. The bus was comfortable and its vibrations made him sleepy. He was woken by the driver. His brother was asleep beside him. He shook him awake. They got off the bus hand in hand. He looked for the stop for the 6 or 21. A 21 bus had arrived. They got on. Again, the older one didn’t have to pay. Do you want to get on right now? asked the driver. I’m not leaving for a while. It didn’t matter. They sat down at the back of the bus. The heater was on. The windows were steamed up. The older one was already asleep. The younger one took his brother’s FC Barcelona cap gently from his head. That was the one he’d really wanted, but he hadn’t been able to say. He took off his own cap and put it on the older one’s head. He put the older one’s cap on his own head. Takeru looked at the window, but he didn’t see his face reflected there with the cap on his head. Was that because the window was steamed up? Was that the only reason? He felt dizzy. He felt sick. He looked at his brother, who was fast asleep with his head against the window, mouth half open. His breathing was awkward and saliva dribbled from his mouth. Leaving his brother asleep, Takeru stood up and asked the driver if there was a place where he could use the bathroom. Did he need to be sick? Did his stomach hurt? Did he just want to pee? There were a few other passengers on the bus now, sitting here and there. The nearest public toilet is over there, said the driver. Hurry up. I’m leaving soon. So Takeru ran from the bus to the bathroom. A cone blocked the entrance. The bathroom was being cleaned. He heard water from a hose washing down the floor. He rushed over to the shopping center across from the bus station. It was crowded. Everyone was laden with shopping bags, but they didn’t block each other’s way. Takeru’s chest was blocked, though. He could hardly breathe. Where was the bathroom? He couldn’t see one. He wanted to cry. He cried. He cried. He waited as his tears flowed, as time flowed quickly by. Was that what happened? He didn’t know what he was doing. He knew. He didn’t know anything. He knew everything. Had the bus carrying his brother arrived at Lion Cross Point?