CHAPTER 38

I called my mother aside and asked about his health. “Is it really all right for him to be going out in the garden like this and being so active?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him. He seems on the whole to have recovered.”

She seemed oddly calm. Typically for a woman who had spent her life among fields and woods far from the city, she was completely innocent in such matters. Yet her calmness struck me as peculiar, considering how disconcerted and worried she had been earlier, when my father had fainted. “But back then the doctor’s diagnosis was that it was a very problematic illness, wasn’t it?”

“Well, it seems to me there’s no knowing what the human body’s capable of. The doctor sounded very grim, and yet look at your father today, still so hale and hearty. I was worried for a while and tried all I could to stop him from doing things. But that’s just who he is, isn’t it? He takes care of himself, but he’s stubborn. Once he gets it into his head that he’s well, he’ll ignore me if I try to tell him otherwise.”

I recalled the way my father had looked and acted on my previous visit, when he had made such an effort to be out of bed and shaved. Your mother shouldn’t go exaggerating things, he had said, but I couldn’t entirely blame her. I was about to suggest that she should at least keep an eye on him but thought better of it. I just told her everything I knew about his disease, although most of it was only what I had learned from Sensei and his wife.

My mother did not seem particularly affected as she listened. She merely remarked, “Well, well, the same illness, eh? Poor thing. What age was she when she died?”

I gave up pursuing the matter with her any further and went directly to my father.

He listened to my warnings with more attention. “Absolutely. Just as you say,” he responded. “But after all, my body’s my own, you know, and naturally I know best how to look after it, with all my years of experience.”

When I repeated this remark to my mother, she smiled grimly. “There you are, I told you so.”

“But he’s thoroughly aware of the problem. That’s exactly why he was so overjoyed to see me after I graduated. He told me so. He said he’d thought before that he might not be alive, so he was happy he’d survived in good health till I could bring back the diploma for him to see.”

“Well, he’s just saying that, you know. In his heart of hearts he’s convinced he’s still fine.”

“You really think so?”

“He plans to live another ten or twenty years. Mind you, he does talk rather mournfully sometimes. ‘I may not have much longer to go,’ he’ll say. ‘What will you do when I die? Will you stay on here alone?’ ”

I found myself imagining this big old country house with my mother left alone here after my father’s death. Would she be able to keep it going on her own? What would my brother do? What would she say? And in the face of this knowledge, could I turn my back on the situation and go back to my carefree life in Tokyo? Now, with my mother before me, Sensei’s warning sprang into my mind—that I must make sure the property division was seen to while my father was still well.

“But there you are,” she continued. “People can carry on about dying and never show any sign of actually doing it, you know. That’s how your father is; he’ll talk of death like this, but who knows how long he’ll go on living? So don’t worry. There’s actually more cause to worry with someone who seems healthy and never talks like that.”

I listened in silence to these trite sentiments, unsure whether they sprang from mere speculation or hard facts.