“Want t’go, Takeru?” Hii-chan said. “I’ll take you if ya like.”
“What sort of place is it?” asked Takeru. “Is it a kind of aquarium?”
“Ain’t no fish there,” said Hii-chan. “Well, there’s a lot of fish, actually,” he laughed, “but they’re just food for the dolphins. You can feed the dolphins yourself, and touch ’em.”
Takeru suddenly felt breathless. Though the air-conditioning was on, he was very hot. His heart was pounding.
“What’s the matter, Takeru?” asked Mitsuko, sitting next to him in the back seat of the car. She looked into his face anxiously. “Carsick?”
Takeru shook his head. “I’m okay,” he said. His voice was weak. “You can’t swim with the dolphins, can you?” he asked.
“Don’t think so,” said Hii-chan.
Takeru seemed relieved. Something that had been blocking his chest began to shrink.
He forced the air from his lungs, trying to get rid of the blockage altogether. But then Hii-chan changed his mind.
“No. Maybe you can…. Yes. You can if ya make a reservation.”
“Swim with dolphins?” said Takeru. “You can swim with the dolphins?”
The rearview mirror showed Hii-chan’s worried frown.
“What’s wrong, Takeru?” he said. “Why’re you cryin’?”
Mitsuko put her arm gently around Takeru’s quivering shoulders.
“A lot of things’ve happened… and he’s been travelin’ since first thing this mornin’. You’re tired, Takeru, ain’t you?”
Takeru clung to Mitsuko. He tried to curl his body up tight to stop himself from sobbing, but it was no use. There was no controlling it.
“You done well, Takeru,” Mitsuko whispered soothingly. “Very well.”
At her words a little more of the thing inside him melted away. His tears flowed on.
Remembering the journey from the airport now as he sat in Ken’s car, Takeru wanted to cry again.
“When’ll you take me?” said Saki again.
“Has your dad said it’s ’kay?” asked Ken, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.
“Old Tatsuya wouldn’t say no, long as I’m with you,” said Saki, echoing Ken’s own words from earlier.
“One–nothin’,” said Ken with a smile.
Saki peered at the side of Takeru’s face.
“You’ll come too, won’t you?” she said.
“I’ll take ya both,” said Ken. “How ’bout next Sunday? I’m free.”
“Are you sure?” asked Takeru.
“Course,” said Ken, nodding. “What’s up, Takeru?” he said, suddenly worried. “You don’t look happy.”
“Keep your eyes on the road, Ken!” shouted Saki. “It ain’t safe!”
“What’s wrong, Takeru?” said Ken. “You don’t wanna go? You scared of dolphins?”
“No I’m not…,” said Takeru.
“Really? You ’kay? Feelin’ carsick?”
“I’m fine,” Takeru said.
But Ken turned on his signal and stopped on the side of the road. A small white truck honked as it came past and Ken sounded his horn in reply. It must have been someone he knew.
Once Ken was sure that Takeru was all right, he started the car again and drove on.
They drove through a series of sharp bends, and then Ken took one hand off the steering wheel and pointed out of the open window.
“There’s Lion Cross Point,” he said.
He was gesturing toward the tip of a long promontory jutting out into the sea. It was where the coast road took its sharpest turn.
Ken’s expression softened for a moment, as if he was remembering something. His large eyes narrowed and a happy smile played on his lips.
“Your ma ever mention Lion Cross Point?”
“No,” said Takeru, shaking his head.
Ken looked as though he wanted to say something else, but left it at that.
“You mean ‘lion’ like ‘lions and tigers’?” asked Takeru.
“That’s right.”
Perhaps the scenery had pushed all the worries out of Takeru’s mind. He’d felt cautious about Ken, an unknown man who said he’d known his mother when they were children, but maybe that caution had melted away now—just like the coin had melted away in his hand.
“Does that mean a lion used to cross the sea here?”
“Well…” said Ken, cocking his head. “I doubt it.”
“So why is it called Lion Cross Point?”
“I wonder,” said Ken. “You’re a clever boy. What grade ya say you’re in? Fourth? Fifth? You speak very politely. You could learn somethin’ from him, Saki.”
“Yes sir!” said Saki playfully from the back seat. She straightened her thin back and began to titter, shaking like a flower in the wind.
“Do you do any sports?” asked Ken. “Football or somethin’? That’s a Barcelona cap, ain’t it?”
“I don’t play football,” said Takeru.
“Baseball? Or maybe—since you’re so polite—judo or kendo?”
“I don’t do any sports.”
“So Wakako keeps ya studyin’ hard then. Strict, is she?”
Takeru said nothing. He felt pain deep inside whenever someone mentioned his mother.
Ken didn’t ask any more questions. Maybe he took Takeru’s silence as a yes. He glanced at Saki in the rearview mirror.
“Tatsuya ain’t so strict is he? He ever been angry with ya? I doubt it!”
“He’s always complainin’ you’re too soft,” Saki retorted. “Says you spoil me.”
“That’s the truth,” said Ken, laughing.
It was a big hearty laugh, as though to prevent some ill-omened wind from getting into the car. With the windows open, the laugh itself seemed to smell of fish and salt water. It sank away like a wave as they came around the next bend in the road.
“That’s the truth,” Ken said again. “But still, what do lions gotta do with this place?”
“Maybe there were lions here once upon a time,” said Saki, baffled.
The question lingered, unresolved, as the car navigated the bend of Lion Cross Point. The road then straightened as they approached the village of Ogoura on the next bay.
“Wow!” said Takeru.
On some flat ground to the right was a big old boat, its bow facing south. It was just across the road from a two-story concrete building.
“Does that boat ever move?” asked Takeru.
It didn’t look as though the boat had been brought there to be repaired. It seemed to be fixed in place with logs and concrete blocks. There were windows in the hull, and curtains visible inside.
“Oh, that!” said Ken. “No, that don’t move. It’s a guesthouse. The Yamato.”
It was an old mackerel fishing vessel that had been converted into a guesthouse for people on fishing trips. The Yamato Guesthouse was well known locally.
“Yamato,” said Takeru quietly. “Like the Yamato Battleship from the Pacific War?”
“You know a lot,” said Ken as they drove past. “The owner’s named Yamato Kawakami. He’s two years younger’n me, so he was the same grade as your ma.”
Takeru froze, but Ken didn’t notice. He kept on talking.
“It was his grandpa’s idea t’name him Yamato, they say. His grandpa was in the navy and wanted him named after the battleship.”
Takeru was no longer listening. He didn’t mean to say anything, but his lips moved, “Ken…”
“Yeah?”
“Were you good friends with my mother?”
“Me and your ma?”