THE YOUNG MAN

Kun dashed into the courtyard and the blinding summer sun.

He tried to take off his helmet but couldn’t get the chin strap undone.

“Argh!”

He finally tore it off with brute force and hurled it to the ground in a fit of frustration.

“I hate Daddy!”

The helmet bounced off the roots of the oak tree and flipped over in the air.

“?”

As if by magic, the tumbling red helmet transformed into an old-fashioned leather pilot’s cap.

“Huh…?” Kun said, leaning forward for a better look. As he did…

Vroom, vroom, vroom!

With a sudden gust of wind and a light so bright he had to cover his eyes, he heard the earsplitting rumble of an engine. The overwhelming pressure thrust him backward as his hair whipped about and ripples cascaded across his cheeks. His whole body swayed back and forth. If he squinted, he could see a star-shaped engine and a rapidly spinning propeller. That seemed to be the source of the wind. The oak tree was rocking terrifically, as if caught in the worst part of a hurricane, and the gale was steadily pushing it down and back. Kun felt like one of the leaves, about to be blown away.

What in the world was going on?

The instant the thought crossed his mind, the wind ceased.

“Cough, cough…”

His chest heaved as he inhaled a mixture of dust, oil fumes, and incense. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a dim workshop. One corner was piled with what could have been either junk or parts. Sunlight filtered in through cracks in the wooden walls, illuminating swirls of smoke.

He was somewhere weird again…

That was when—

“…?”

—his gaze landed on something unusual in the parts heap. It was composed of two sets of seven cylinders arranged in a radial pattern, one on top of the other. Clearly, it was the reciprocating engine for an aircraft. It was just like the star-shaped engine he’d glimpsed a minute ago, as far as Kun could tell. But the one in front of him now was affixed to a stand with a sheet thrown over it and didn’t have a propeller attached. It showed no sign of moving. So where did the one stirring up all that wind go?

Tuktuktuktuk…

He still heard an engine, but this one sounded much smaller. He scanned the room for the source. The little workshop was full of huge machine tools that seemed far too big for it. They must have come from somewhere else. There was also a hammock, a smoking coil of mosquito-repelling incense, and a peach set on a sofa.

Sitting atop a surface plate was a partially assembled motorcycle. A nearby can of paint was open, and a ready-made engine with cylinder heads on either side had been positioned on the newly welded truss frame. The noise was definitely coming from there. The fuel tank hadn’t been attached yet, so the gas was dripping in from a bottle.

Belatedly, Kun noticed something else.

A man was crouched down with his back to Kun, fiddling with the carburetor. Startled, Kun let out a soft gasp.

“…Oh.”

“…?”

The person working on the bike slowly stood up, suggesting he’d heard. He was wearing a collarless shirt stained with oil and sweat, trousers with pockets, and well-worn boots. His frame was tall and thin, with a flimsy towel draped over his neck, and his black hair was plastered to the back of his head. He regarded Kun with puzzlement.

“Did you need something?” the young man asked.

“Ack!”

Kun’s eyes darted every which way in a panic, searching for a place to hide.

“Interested in the bike?” The man rested his hand on the unfinished motorcycle. Standing up, he looked even taller and skinner. Kun nervously shook his head.

“Uh-uh.”

“Wanna take a ride?”

“Uh-uh.”

“You don’t have to be polite.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Bet you wanna.”

“Uh-uh.”

The man’s shoulders sagged in disappointment at Kun.

“So you won’t take a ride, eh? Too bad,” he said, limping away from the surface plate. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“…For everything?” Kun parroted, standing still.

The man leaned against the big door of the workshop to push it open. “Sure is. That’s what they say, right?”

He grinned, then slung his jacket over his shoulder and sauntered out of the workshop.

Kun had heard that before. Why would someone he’d never met before say that? Who was this person? Who’d said those words to him and where?

The workshop was hidden in a grove of trees. Exposed water pipes and electrical wires snaked along the clapboard walls, and the road through the woods was roughly paved in thick concrete. It looked like someone had slapped it down in a hurry and then abandoned it when they didn’t need it anymore.

Kun deliberated for a moment, then decided to follow the young man.

The road through the woods emerged into farm fields at the top of a cliff.

Kun could see Cape Honmoku jutting out, and in the distance, he could hear children playing at Byobugaura Beach. He could even see the pine trees of Mount Shirahata and, on the far side of the sea, the faint outline of Boso Peninsula.

The Yokohama city tram was rattling along the coastal highway toward Sugita Station. The road was lined with tile-roofed houses, even some with old thatched roofs. But were they really old? This was definitely Kun’s neighborhood, but nothing looked the same to him. He didn’t see the Negishi railway line, or the Wangan elevated line, or the industrial zone built on reclaimed land. The landscape before him was from a time before any of those.

Of course, Kun couldn’t possibly have known that. He was fixated on the way the young man dragged his foot as he walked, like something was wrong with his leg. The toes of his right foot pointed outward, making him bowlegged. After watching for a while, Kun looked up at the dark young man and asked:

“Your leg…”

“What’s that?”

“Does it hurt?” he inquired bluntly.

The man glanced at him. “This thing? When I was in the war, I was on a boat that capsized, and that’s when this happened.”

He made it sound no more consequential than a skinned knee.

“Now that I’m used to it, it doesn’t get in my way much,” he said, squinting into the horizon.

“…”

Kun looked in the same direction, but there was nothing to see aside from a few clouds.

After they’d walked along the path between the farm fields for a while, they came to an open area enclosed in fencing. The young man entered the two-story wood-plank building next to it without so much as a glance back at Kun.

Kun thought for a moment about what to do. He paced up and down, trying to decide if he should follow or not. He had no idea who the man was… Still, he felt drawn to him. Why was that? After wavering for a long time, he made up his mind and stepped forward.

The closer he got to the building, the more he smelled the distinctive musk of animals. What could be inside? He peered through the dark doors.

“Wow…”

He couldn’t help gasping. A bunch of horses were lazily poking their heads out of a line of stalls and staring at the unusual visitor. So this was a stable. The young man called to him from the far end.

“Hey, c’mon in!”

Kun timidly shuffled inside, looking at the horses to his right and left. There were all different sorts, from a tan pony to a big gray horse. They were much more impressive in real life than the ones he’d seen in picture books and videos.

“…I never saw one before.”

“Never?” the man asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. He strode over to Kun and crouched down in front of him, pressing his face close. Kun adjusted his stance defensively.

“You’re talking about the horses?”

“Uh-huh,” Kun said.

“Never even seen one?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“…”

The man knitted his eyebrows and peered silently at Kun for a moment. Kun didn’t know what to do and simply stood there holding his breath. Suddenly, the man’s face relaxed into a grin.

“Hey, is anyone here?” He called over his shoulder to the far end of the barn. Two boys poked their heads out from behind a blackboard.

“We are!”

“Could you saddle up a horse for me?”

“Sure!”

“One minute, please!”

The two boys disappeared. Before long, they returned outside the barn leading a smallish riding horse with a beautiful chestnut coat. One of the boys tightened the saddle girth around the horse, and the other handed the reins to the young man.

“Thanks, boys.” He stroked the horse’s head and face fondly with soothing murmurs. At just the right moment, he grabbed hold of its mane and swung up onto its back without using the stirrups, as if riding bareback. Only when he was astride did he slip his feet into the stirrups.

“Wow,” Kun said, amazed by the man’s skill. He jumped up and down in admiration.

“Come on up,” the man invited, holding the horse still with the reins as he extended a hand to Kun. He was leaning down so far, he seemed on the verge of falling off.

Come up? No way. That was impossible. Kun shook his head and waved his hands back and forth.

“I can’t.”

But the man grabbed his collar all the same and hefted him up.

“Whoa!” Before he knew it, he was sitting on the saddle.

The horse slowly craned its neck around to look at him.

“Ahh!”

The view from the horse’s back was alarmingly high. Kun felt like he was on top of a two-story building, and he worried he would fall each time the horse stamped its feet and shifted its weight. If he did fall, he was sure he would get hurt—or worse. He was so dizzy he nearly fainted.

He clung to the man’s arm and yelped. “Ahh! Daddy!”

The man smiled wryly. “Daddy? You mean me?”

The horse stomped restlessly.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Kun cried, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the man’s arm tighter atop the swaying mount.

“Don’t be scared. When you’re scared, the horse gets scared.”

Reassuring Kun, he pushed the horse’s head gently in the opposite direction.

“Let’s go!”

The horse ambled slowly along the path between the fields.

On the opposite side from the cliff face, the hill was carved into terraced fields covered with potato, taro, and sweet potato leaves as far as the eye could see.

Even through the saddle, Kun could feel the rhythmic movements of the horse’s shoulder muscles. He sat stiffly, eyes down and reins gripped in his hands as he swayed along.

A few minutes earlier, he had called the man “Daddy.” The word had left his mouth unexpectedly, but as it did, he suddenly remembered something. Dad was the one who had said, There’s a first time for everything, when they were in the playroom. He was sure of it. In that case, wouldn’t that make this person a young version of Dad?

The man calmly struck up a conversation. “The horse isn’t scared anymore. He’s okay with us now. You’re not scared, are you?”

“…A little,” Kun answered with his head down.

The man pointed to the distant horizon.

“If you’re scared, look way out ahead, not down. No matter what happens, keep looking ahead.”

Kun was too nervous to raise his head right away, but after blinking several times and closing his eyes tightly, he managed to lift his face. Very, very cautiously, he forced his eyelids open.

“…”

He saw hundreds of white clouds floating all the way to the horizon. A sea breeze blowing from Negishi Bay mussed his hair pleasantly, and his tension slowly dissolved.

On closer inspection, he noticed something in the distance. Perched on a hill on the far side of a river, he could see a large building.

It was the Negishi Racecourse First-Class Horse Viewing Stand.

“Oh…”

Kun recognized the dilapidated grandstand in Negishi Forest Park. He stared at it in a daze. It was so strange seeing one familiar thing in a completely unfamiliar landscape.

“Wasn’t I right? Not so scary now, is it?”

The man’s calm voice brought Kun out of his trance. The boy smiled up at him.

“Nope.”

The man urged the horse into a canter with a nudge to its side. Kun widened his eyes at the new rhythmic bouncing.

“Ahh!”

The horse ran along a farm road that climbed up and down through the hills. Kun was sure he’d be thrown off this time and squeezed his eyes shut again. Right away, the man leaned toward him.

“Look ahead.”

“Oh!” Kun started. Still, he mustered up his courage and lifted his face toward the horizon. The racecourse grandstand was his landmark. He could feel himself calming down even more quickly than before, and soon, he was used to the cantering rhythm.

“Nice. I’m gonna speed up again,” the man said, smiling. He took a short breath and gave another nudge as a signal. The next moment, the chestnut horse was free and galloping magnificently through the hills at full speed.

The beat of hooves against the ground and the wind rushing past thundered in Kun’s ears.

Before he knew it, Kun was speeding along the coastal highway on a motorcycle.