“Who is it? Who’s there?” asked Masako, her voice trembling.
Then, at that very moment, something in a white cloth leapt out from behind the telegraph pole and gave a terrifying cry before landing right in front of Masako, where it studied her carefully through its fierce-looking Prajna mask.
For a moment, Masako stood rooted to the spot, too scared to even scream. Then she decided to run for her life. But her legs wouldn’t move the way she wanted them to. Her knees were trembling, and each step was unsteady. Then one of her feet got caught in something, and she tumbled head first onto the railing — smashing right through it and over the edge into darkness. The sound of gushing water came closer and closer, and somewhere a voice called out.
“Etsuko!”
Who on earth is Etsuko, she thought to herself as she fell. Is it someone I should know?
Then the icy waters engulfed her and dragged her body deeper and deeper.
Masako woke up with a start. Her chest was pounding and she was gasping for air.
A dream! she thought. It was only a dream!
But what an awful nightmare it had been. Her pyjamas were soaked with sweat, but fortunately Yoshio was still fast asleep beside her. Quietly, she got out of bed, changed into a new pair of pyjamas and crawled back under the covers. But, as much as she tried, she couldn’t get back to sleep.
Ha! Now I remember, she thought to herself. Etsuko was a friend back from when we lived in the countryside. She was a cute girl. I must have been six and Etsuko five when we last saw each other. I wonder what she’s doing now?
The next morning, Masako woke up earlier than usual. She decided to take the longer route to school and invited Bunichi to walk with her. As they walked side by side, Masako recounted her nightmare from the previous night. She thought Bunichi might be able to tell her something about her dream, since he seemed to have learnt so much about such things from his psychologist uncle.
“I think something must have happened back when you lived in the countryside,” said Bunichi after giving it some thought.
“I think so too,” nodded Masako.
“And what about that girl, Etsuko? Do you think she still lives there?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Is this place far?”
“No, you can get there and back in a day.”
“Masako, you should go there this weekend,” said Bunichi, stopping in his tracks. “I really think you’ll find some answers if you do. You’ll find out whatever it is that’s troubling you so much.”
Masako looked Bunichi straight in the eyes and said, “Will you come with me?”
“Of course I will.”
“Thanks,” said Masako, dropping her gaze. She was so happy to be returning to the place she’d loved after so many years away. And to go there with Bunichi was even better. But at the same time, she was a little worried about whatever horrible secrets she might find there.
Over the next few days, Masako wrestled with her mixed feelings. Then, when Sunday came, the weather was perfect, with not a single cloud in the sky. Bunichi came to pick her up early in the morning, and he seemed pleasantly surprised to see her wearing a very colourful dress.
“Wow!” said Bunichi. “You actually look like a proper girl with that on!”
“How rude!” pouted Masako. “What do you normally think of me as?”
“A girl, of course.”
“Well,” replied Masako, “you’ve also dressed up more than usual, haven’t you.”
Bunichi looked down at his new dark-green sweater as his cheeks turned bright-red in embarrassment.
Together they walked along until they reached the train station, where they took the local line downtown. Then they changed to another train, from where they watched the city fade away through the windows to be replaced by beautiful countryside scenes, with the leaves of trees changing to a palette of different colours and the rice fields glowing the brilliant gold of the harvest season.
“Do your grandparents still live in the countryside?” asked Bunichi, turning to Masako.
“No, we don’t have family there any more. Apparently some people we don’t know are living in the house we used to live in. But there are a lot of people we knew in the neighbourhood, so I’m sure they will all remember me.”
“So you were born there?”
“Yeah, I lived there until I was six. After that my dad got his job, and we moved out into town.”
A full four hours later, they arrived at their destination, where they took a quick lunch at a small restaurant along the shopping avenue near the station, then slowly started on their one-kilometre walk to the village where Masako was born. Behind them, the sun shone across the low mountains and hills nearby, and the air was clear and refreshing. On either side of the road there were fields of radishes and turnips, but there was not a soul in sight — perhaps because it was lunchtime.
“After we cross that river,” said Masako, “there’s not much further to go.”
Masako felt conflicting emotions rising within her. She was excited to be back, but felt uneasy about what might lie ahead.
As they climbed the slope of the riverbank, Masako was surprised to see how wide and deep the river was. There was a long bridge that ran across it, and she remembered the bridge being there. But she hadn’t seen it in such a long time, and now that she was looking at it again, she noticed its low wooden rails on both sides, which were rotten and broken in various places. She looked at the telegraph poles dotted along the bridge at ten-metre intervals, and past the bridge she could make out the shape of the snow-capped mountain range beyond.
This is it! she thought. This is the bridge that appeared in my nightmare!
Masako’s feelings of nostalgia turned to fear, and her legs refused to carry her any farther forward.
Bunichi stopped as well and looked at Masako with cool, thoughtful eyes.
“It’s this bridge, isn’t it?” he said. “The one you saw in your dream.”
“Yes,” was all Masako managed to say.
“Come on, let’s go!” said Bunichi. “Let’s cross the bridge.”
Masako wished she could say no. But if she were to turn back now, then she’d miss out on the chance to shed light on the darkness inside her. Then she thought back on how she’d urged her little brother to face his fears and walk along the hallway, and she started to feel a little embarrassed.
“Okay, I’ll go,” she said, reaching out reluctantly to Bunichi, who grabbed her hand firmly and began walking just a little ahead of her.
“Be careful not to touch the rails!” said Masako with a tremble in her voice.
“Don’t worry,” said Bunichi, “we’ll just walk down the middle of the bridge.”
Together they carried on for several more careful steps, with Bunichi leading the way and Masako keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her feet. Then Bunichi turned around and stopped.
“Masako, that’s not going to work,” he said with a frown. “You have to look around more and try to remember as much as you can.”
“But I can’t!” said Masako, covering her face with her hands. “I have this bad feeling that what happened in my dream will happen here! The poles will come tumbling down! Oh and there’s someone standing behind that pole! See, something is going to jump out!”
It was then that they heard a voice nearby — a girl’s voice.
“Masako! You’re Masako, aren’t you?”
A FACE FROM CHILDHOOD
Masako dropped her hands from her face in surprise and looked towards the girl who was calling her name. The voice belonged to a girl much taller than Masako. She wore pigtails and a school uniform, and she was standing about five metres away, staring right at them.