Sunday, March 13, 2011
The sun crept above the horizon, its rays bringing desperately needed warmth to the
survivors of the tsunami.
Sachie looked out through the smoky haze that hung over the ruins of the town.
She could still see smoke rising from several areas. She put on her jacket and was about
to step out the door when her mother’s phone rang. She picked it up and saw the name
Mariko displayed on the screen. “Hello, older sister,” said Sachie, excitedly.
“I’ve been trying to get through to you, but all the lines were jammed. Is
everyone OK?”
“Yes, we’re all fine,” said Sachie. “But our town has been destroyed. Only the
houses on higher ground survived. Everything else has been washed away.”
“I know, I watched it on my car TV.”
“How about you? Are you OK?” asked Sachie.
“Yes, but the earthquake caused a lot of damage to the buildings and roads. Is
our house still standing?”
“Water flooded the bottom floor, but the top floor is.”
“Can Mother open the shop?”
“No, it’s been destroyed. Was your apartment damaged?” asked Sachie.
“Just a few cracks in the walls.” She paused. “Do you know the nuclear power
station blew up?”
“No, we have no communication. What nuclear power station?”
“The one just north of Iwaki city,” her older sister replied anxiously.
“Isn’t that close to you?”
“It’s about fifty kilometers away.”
“Shouldn’t you evacuate?”
“No, the government says there is nothing to worry about and that there is no
radiation leak,” her sister said, but her words lacked certainty.
“Are you sure? Shouldn’t you leave just to be on the safe side?”
“The roads are closed and the trains are out. Anyway, I don’t have enough
petrol.”
Just then Kumiko entered the room.
“I’ll put Mother on.” She turned to her mother. “It’s Mariko,” Sachie said and
handed the phone to her.
“Are you all right?” asked her mother. “We’ve been trying to contact you.”
Sachie left her mother to speak to her sister and went down the outside stairs.
“Where are you going?” asked her grandfather, who was working on his truck’s
engine.
“I’m going to look for Yukino again,” she replied. “Can you fix your truck?”
“I’ll have it working by the afternoon,” he said, limping over to a fire he had
made. “Would you like me to come along?”
Sachie shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. By the way, Mother is talking to
Mariko. ”
“Is she all right?” he asked, throwing pieces of wood onto the fire.
“She’s fine, but she said that the nuclear reactor blew up in Fukushima.”
Her grandfather stopped and stood up straight. “What? Are you sure?”
“Yes, but there is no radiation leak,” she said.
A worried look came into his eyes. “I wonder if that’s true? I don’t believe the
big companies or the government. I’ll try to get some information from the radio. She
should get as far away as possible just in case there is a leak.”
“The roads and trains are out, and she doesn’t have enough petrol.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. Anyway, make yourself warm before you leave.”
He poured some kerosene over the wood and then took out a match, lit it, and threw it on
the wood. The fire blazed to life.
“Thank you,” said Sachie. She walked over and let the flames burn warmth into
her body.
“Where are you going to look?” asked her grandfather.
“I’ll head for Seko’s house. She might be with her.”
“Can you get across the river?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll try,” replied Sachie, rubbing her hands together over the
fire.
Her grandfather threw another piece of wood on the fire. “Be careful–”
The ground began to tremble.
“Sounds like a big one,” said Sachie, quickly stepping away from the fire.
The earth shook and then a surge of energy ran through the ground and the fire
collapsed—and then silence.
“That wasn’t such a big one,” said her grandfather, kicking the burning wood
back into the pile.
“That was the two hundred and fiftieth aftershock since the earthquake.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve been counting. We had seventy on the first day and one hundred and forty
on the second day, and that was number forty for today, but I don’t count the small ones.”
Her grandfather’s eyebrows lifted. “Interesting!”
“I’ll be back later. Bye,” she said, zipping up her jacket.
He waved good-bye and watched her trudge through the mud and debris and
then disappear around a corner.
Sachie headed toward the south part of the harbor. The going was tough; all the
roads were buried beneath a layer of mud with broken wood, twisted metal, and crushed
cars. Several times she had to make long detours around fires. Everywhere people were
searching the ruins for loved ones and survivors. Sachie looked up and could just make
out a patch of blue sky though the smoky haze. A cold breeze blew off the mountains,
ruffling her hair; she took out a woolen cap and pulled it over her head.
She continued, for the best part of an hour, until she came to the river. There was
no way to cross; the bridge was gone, and in its place were jagged chunks of concrete that
had been swept up from the harbor. Sachie turned west and headed along the river. She
stopped and stared at the four-story concrete apartment building that lay on its side,
broken pylons protruding from the base. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the force that
would be needed to uproot such a building, and then she remembered the building that
had risen out of the water and toppled over, throwing the people into the churning water.
The same thing must have happened to this building. A bitter wind blew through her, and
she pulled her cap down over her ears and continued for a few more minutes when she
spotted two men dragging the body of an old woman from the river. Over the next two
hours, she came across three bodies. The first was a young man in his early twenties. He
was still in his suit and tie and had a deep gash to the neck; she thought she recognized
him from the town office. The second one was a fireman; the top half of his body
protruded from the mud just below the riverbank. The third was a small girl dressed in a
red dressing gown; she lay atop the remains of a house, her skin unmarked, her hair tied
neatly in a ponytail, and her hand still clasping a teddy bear.
Sachie fell to her knees crying. “Why her?” she screamed out loud. “Why are
you so cruel?” Without warning, the ground lifted and then slammed back down. “Take
me if you wish!” she yelled. The ground shook violently, the noise thunderous. “You
don’t have the guts,” she yelled out in defiance. The ground lifted again and tore open
right next to her. “Come on!” screamed Sachie.
The shaking stopped and the noise rumbled away.
Sachie climbed up the remains of the house and carried the girl down in her
arms. She stood, holding the dead girl, wreathed in destruction, tears streaming down her
face. “It’s not fair!” she screamed out loud. She forced herself along the river for another
thirty minutes until she came across a group of men standing around a fire in a drum can.
The men fell silent and then one of them took the girl’s body from her and covered it with
a blanket. They exchanged bows, but no words were uttered. There were no words that
could match such a tragedy. The rest of the morning, she walked aimlessly along the
riverbank, the girl’s face stuck in her mind. She heard some music and turned and
followed the sound. She climbed up a pile of wreckage and looked over. A woman,
surrounded by a group of people, sat on a milk crate playing the guitar. Sachie climbed
down and made her way over to them.
“I’m going to play the national anthem,” said the lady. “Please sing along.”
She started to strum her guitar and sing.
The song, “Kimigayo,” was the national anthem, but she sang it differently; the
melody was brighter and livelier. Her voice was angelic; it was the purest sound Sachie
had ever heard. Sachie began to sing, and the other people followed; she sang from her
heart with all her might.
“Kimigayo wa chiyoni yachiyo ni sazare ishio…”
The woman finished playing and everyone clapped. She put down the guitar and
walked over to Sachie. “What’s your name?”
“Sachie.”
“My name is Toshimi. Glad to meet you,” she said, bowing.
“Glad to meet you too,” Sachie said, returning the bow. “That was the most
beautiful song I’ve ever heard.”
The woman brushed her long black hair from her face, and a faint smile brushed
her lips. “Music always cheers people up. I wanted to thank you for singing. That was the
first time these people have sung today. Your lead got them started.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
The woman smiled at Sachie’s modesty. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.”
**
Seko opened the door and stepped into the house. Her neighbors were huddled around a
kerosene heater chatting.
“Could you get across to the other side?” asked Mrs. Sasaki.
“No, the bridge has been washed away; it is impassable.”
“She needs to get her medicine,” said Mrs. Sasaki, pointing to the old woman
lying on the floor. “She’s diabetic.”
Seko took off her gloves and went over to the heater. “I know. If no one comes,
I will have to go over the mountains and try to get some medicine,” she said, warming her
hands above the heater.
“Isn’t that too dangerous? The mountains are very steep,” said one of the old
men.
“I know the mountains well. I have done it before.”
**
Ryota slid a piece beef jerky onto a hook.
Karina popped her head out of the tent. “What are you doing?”
“Fishing. I’m going to catch us a meal,” replied Ryota.
“Do you really think you’ll catch anything?” Karina asked sarcastically.
“We’ll never know unless we try,” replied Ryota.
Karina crawled out of the tent. “I think you’re wasting good food.”
Ryota ignored the comment. “What’s your favorite fish?”
Karina stared at him as if he was an idiot. “Aren’t you listening to me?” she
huffed.
“Shut up, sister!” said Yurie, crawling out of the tent.
“You shut up!” spat Karina.
“Why don’t you help instead of complaining,” said Yurie, turning up her nose.
Ryota smiled to himself.
“Can I help you?” asked Yurie.
“Sure. Could you pass me that knife?”
“You two are wasting your time!” scoffed Karina.
Yurie looked at her older sister. “Well, we’ve got a lot of time to waste.”
Karina huffed and crawled back into the tent.
Ryota grinned at Yurie, and she gave him the same idiotic stare as Karina had
just given him; they both giggled.
“OK! Let’s catch some fish,” said Ryota. He stood up and cast his line out.
“Wow! That went a long way,” said Yurie.
“So-so,” replied Ryota. He slowly wound it in and cast again.
“Can I try?” asked Yurie.
“Sure.”
Ryota showed her how to hold the rod and cast the line. After a few poor
attempts, she got the hang of it.
“You’ve got it now,” said Ryota.
“This is fun!” said Yurie. She wound it in again and then cast out. Suddenly, the
line went taut. “I’ve got something!” she screamed.
“Pull on it,” yelled Ryota excitedly.
Yurie pulled on the line. “I’m not strong–” Her feet slipped and she fell back.
Ryota snatched the rod from her and pulled the line taut; he then released it and
reeled in the slackness. He repeated it several more times until the fish was alongside the
tank.
“It’s really big!” exclaimed Yurie.
Ryota heaved and a silver fish came flapping onto the tank. “Quick, pass me the
knife!”
Yurie passed him the knife, and Ryota quickly silenced the tuna.
“Yes! Yes!” shouted Yurie, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.
Karina stuck her head out of the tent to see what all the commotion was about.
“Look, we got one!” said Yurie.
Karina crawled out of the tent.
Ryota stood, a big grin plastered across his face, holding the fish. “Tuna!”
Karina stood there with an embarrassed look on her face. “It’s…a big one,” she
said awkwardly.
“How would you like your tuna?” asked Ryota.
“Grilled,” shouted Yurie.
“And Karina?” asked Ryota. He laid the fish on the tank’s metal surface.
“Uh…grilled. That would be fine.” She felt like a real fool. He wasn’t an idiot
like she thought he was at school. He was bright, smart, and very resourceful; she was
beginning to like him. “Can I…help?” Her words stumbled out guiltily.
“Yes, you can scale the fish.”
Karina shrugged her shoulders. “How do I do that?”
**
Tomo woke up shaking uncontrollably. His body ached and his head throbbed and there
was a bad taste of blood in his mouth.
“Where am I?” he murmured to himself Yukino lay snugly in the futon, a beam
of sunlight streamed through the crack in the curtains warming her face. Her eyes
flickered open and she looked around trying to get her bearings. There was an old chest of
drawers against the wall to her left and tattered curtains half hid the sliding glass doors on
her right. She propped herself up on her elbows to see the paper door in front of her. All
of a sudden, the memories of the day before flooded back into her mind and she fell back,
covered her eyes and wept. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears sliding from beneath her
hands.
“Sorry for what?” The paper door slid open.
Yukino’s hands fell away and she peered up into the smiling face of Taka.
“Taka-san,” she yelled with glee. She jumped up and hugged him. “You’re alive!” Tears
of joy streamed down her face. “I thought…I thought you were dead.”
Taka hugged her tight. “I managed to make some foot and hand holes and climb
out.”
Yukino buried her face into his chest. “You’re alive, right? This isn’t a dream, is
it?”
Taka pushed her back gently so she could see his face. “No, dream. I am for
real,” he said smiling.
Yukino wiped her tears back and asked. “What happened to the crevasse?”
“I was lucky. Just after I climbed out, there was another aftershock and the
crevasse slammed shut.”
Guilt flooded her eyes and she turned her face from his.
“I’m safe. There is no one to blame,” he said, touching her chin with his finger
and guiding her face back to his. “No one to blame,” he repeated softly.
“But…I was too late.”
“I’m safe,” he repeated, grinning.
Yukino nodded and managed half a smile.
Taka’s eyebrows rose. “You were the one who almost died.”
Yukino suddenly remembered she had no recollection of what had happened
after she had collapsed onto the bare patch of earth. “How did–”
Taka put his finger to his lip and then said. “I thought I would pass you on the
way back, but you must have taken another path. When I arrived home and found you
weren’t here I went back looking for you. I found you unconscious on the ground, almost
frozen to death. I carried you back and put you to bed.”
“Arigato gozaimasu.” Thank you so much,” Yukino said bowing.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, would you like some tea and something to
eat?”
“Yes, please.”
They went into the kitchen. A small room, the bench strewn with plates, cups
and bottles. A small table also a mess with sauce bottles, cereal and cookie boxes and a
few vegetables.
Yukino sat at the table while Taka started cooking. She thought about what had
happened in the last two days. How vulnerable humans were to Mother Nature’s forces.
How life could be stolen from someone so quickly. How many people had not had the
chance to thank or say goodbye to their loved ones? What was life? She started to sense
something. A warm feeling started to kindle inside her. She closed her eyes and let the
sensation take her; she saw the oceans, rivers and mountains; could feel the gentle caress
of the wind and the smell of mountain air. Her spirit was alive, exhilarated by the
elements. She felt strangely content, the horrible wanting for material things gone. Her
eyes opened and she looked around at the all the material things that cluttered the house.
In that moment, a timeless moment of past, present and future, she realized how terribly
wrong the world was. How humans had strayed from their natural spiritual path onto a
material, consumer road, which was imprisoning their spirits and raping the planet of its
life.
“Are you OK?” asked Taka, noticing the new look on her face.
A glowing smile spread across her face. “I’m perfect,” she said softly.
**
He tilted his head to the side and saw a man; his face caked with blood, lying next to him.
He forced himself to sit up and realized he was in the overturned truck sitting on the
ceiling. He nudged the man next to him and the man groaned. At least he’s alive, he
thought.
He struggled in the confined space to get on his knees. He then took hold of the
door handle, pushed the door open and pulled himself out of the truck. He lay there
panting, the morning sunlight warming him. After a while, he crawled around the truck
and pulled the unconscious man out and covered him with a blanket he had found behind
the driver’s seat. He then fell back and let the sunlight warm him, his thoughts drifting to
Sachie. He had to find her and explain what had happened between Yukino and him. He
needed to tell her before Yukino did. He thought back to the BBQ at Seko’s house last
summer. It had started just like any other BBQ, the girls had chopped and readied the
food and the men were cooking. Beer, Shochu and sake were flowing well, and
conversation was loud with cheers and raucous laughter. As the afternoon moved into
evening the women dragged their drunken boyfriends away and drove them home.
It was about nine when only Yukino and he remained. And that’s when–”
“Water,” groaned the man.
Tomo crawled over to him. “How are you?”
“Uh…water…where am I?” His voice was rusty as if hadn’t been used in years.
“We crashed. Don’t you remember?”
“Uh…no…water,” he replied.
Tomo guessed he was suffering from bad concussion, mixed with a hangover.
“I’ll get some water.” He crawled back to the truck and took a bottle of water he had seen
earlier from behind the driver’s seat.
“Eri-chan!” screamed the man. “Eri-chan!”
Tomo scrambled back over to the man. “It’s all right,” he said, putting the bottle
to his lips.
The man drunk deeply, almost choking on the water.
“Slowly,” said Tomo.
The man pushed the bottle away and spluttered. “Eri-chan!”
“It’s OK,” said Tomo, trying to calm him. He guessed it was the name of his
daughter who had drowned.
“Eri-chan!” screamed the man hysterically. “Eri-chan!”
**
Kubo and Natsumi sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. They had slept together last night,
but it had been innocent—just a few hugs and kisses, nothing more.
“You have a lot of spare room,” said Natsumi.
Kubo knew what she meant. “Yes, we should bring some of the people here
who have lost their homes.”
Kubo told his daughters to tidy the house and put the spare futons in the living
room. Natsumi and he spent the rest of the morning looking for people who had no
shelter. By the end of the midday, they had ferried twenty-two people back to his house.
**
Hiro sat next to Erica, who was scribbling the number four in a notebook he had found.
He was worried that she was withdrawing into herself.
“Would you like some biscuits?” asked Hiro.
She didn’t respond, just kept scribbling the number four, the number of death.
“They’re very good,” he said, biting one.
She didn’t respond.
Hiro put the biscuits next to her, next to the bowl of noodles and the orange she
hadn’t touched. He got up and made his way through the maze of people on the
gymnasium floor. Some were sleeping, but most were sitting, and a low murmur of
chatter filled the gym.
He was halfway across when the gym suddenly went silent. A man, holding the
body of a high school girl in his arms, stood in the entrance. There was complete silence;
everyone’s eyes were fixed on the man.
“Tomomi!” shrieked a woman.
Hiro searched for the woman who owned the voice. He caught sight of her
frantically making her way to the man. And then his heart stopped; following her was the
skinny boy. He remembered the mother had said her husband had gone looking for their
daughter in Kamaishi.
The man fell to his knees and laid the limp body of his daughter on the floor.
“Tomomi! Are you all right?” There was a strange sense of hope in her voice. A
hope that everyone in the gym knew was false. “Mommy’s coming!”
No one said a word as they watched the horrifying scene play out.
She reached her daughter’s body and knelt down and brushed her matted hair
from her face. “I’m glad Father found you.”
The lifeless eyes of her daughter stared back at her.
“You must be hungry. Would you like some noodles?” she asked.
Her husband put his hand on his wife’s shoulder, and she looked up into his
tear-filled eyes. “She’s de–” But the word got stuck in his throat.
She bent down and gave her daughter a hug and said, “It’s all right. I know
you’re tired. You need to sleep.”
The skinny boy stood behind his mother, staring at his dead sister. His face
showed no grief, no pain.
An old woman came over and knelt beside her. “I’m sorry for your loss, but
your daughter is dead.”
“I’ll make your favorite spaghetti when you wake,” said the mother as if the
woman hadn’t spoken.
“She’s dead,” repeated the woman.
The mother stroked her daughter’s hair and began to sing a lullaby to her.
An eerie tune floated through the air, and no one said a word.
The woman closed the dead daughter’s eyes and then put a blanket over her and
pulled it up to her neck. “She’s asleep now,” said the woman, smiling.
The mother stopped singing and tucked her daughter in.
Hiro let out a sigh and continued to the other side of the gym.
**
The elderly lady in the no-entry zone stood hunched over in her kitchen; her body was
shaking violently from the bitter cold. Snow was falling diagonally, and gusts of wind
shook the house. She opened the fridge and took out some cabbage and tofu—the last of
her food. She looked out the window and wondered if anyone would come for her.
**
The residents of Tomioka town had reached Kawauchi a few hours after the explosion at
the Daiichi reactor the previous day. The Kawauchi mayor had prepared for their arrival,
and they’d been given temporary shelter in gyms and community centers.
“Have you heard anything from the central government?” asked Saito. He was
sitting opposite the mayor in a small room in the community center.
“Nothing much, just that we’re safe here and there’s nothing to worry about.”
Saito frowned. “Do you really believe what they are telling you?”
The mayor took off his glasses