Loop

Kaoru had mentioned his age during his conversation with Ryoji; Reiko had noticed. Kaoru was always being told he looked older than he was; he was used to it.

“How old do I look to you?”

“Hmm. Maybe about five years older …?” She trailed off apologetically, afraid she’d offended him.

“You mean I look old?”

“You look mature. Really … together.” To say he looked old might hurt him; to say he looked “mature” would sound like a compliment, she evidently figured.

“My parents got along well when I was growing up.”

“And that makes kids look older than their age?”

“Well, they always looked like they’d be happy enough to be left alone, just the two of them, so I had to learn to be independent pretty early.”

“Ah.” Reiko’s expression said she wasn’t convinced. She looked at her son’s empty bed.

Kaoru found himself thinking about Reiko’s husband. Something about Ryoji suggested that he didn’t have a father. Maybe there had been a divorce, maybe he’d died, or maybe he’d been absent from the start. In any case, Kaoru had the impression that Ryoji’s relationship with his father was, at the very least, extremely attenuated.

“In that case, maybe my son will never become independent,” said Reiko, still staring at the bed.

Kaoru braced himself and waited for her next words.

“It was cancer …”

“Oh.” He had expected that.

“It was two years ago. Ryoji didn’t mourn his father’s death one bit, you know.”

Kaoru could understand that. The kid probably hadn’t let her see him cry once.

“That’s how it is sometimes.”

But he didn’t mean it. When he imagined his own father’s death an uncontrollable sadness came welling up from the depths of his heart. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to overcome it when he faced the actual event. He realized that, at least in that sense, maybe he wasn’t all that independent yet himself.

“Kaoru, would you mind …” Reiko trailed off again, fixing him with a clinging gaze. “Would you mind watching over his studies?”

“You mean, as his tutor?”

“Yes.”

Teaching children was his specialty, and he had time for one or two more students. But he wasn’t sure Ryoji actually needed a tutor. Just from their brief talk together it was obvious that Ryoji was far more capable than other students his age.

But it wasn’t only that. If the cancer had already spread to his lungs and his brain, Kaoru knew that all the tutors and all the studying in the world wouldn’t make any difference in the end. There was no chance that this kid would return to school. But then, maybe that was precisely why she wanted to hire a tutor, in the hopes that letting him prepare to go back to school and resume his studies would restore his faith in the future. Kaoru knew how important it was for those surrounding the patient to show by their actions that they hadn’t given up hope.

“Sure. I have time to come by twice a week, if that would do.”

Reiko took two or three steps toward Kaoru and placed her hands demurely in front of her, one over the other. “Thank you. Not only will it benefit his schoolwork, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to have someone to talk to.”

“Okay, then.”

No doubt Ryoji didn’t have a friend in the world. Kaoru could understand, because he’d been the same. He’d been just a little of a social outcast at school. But in his case, he’d had a good relationship with his parents that had saved him from feeling lonely. Crazy as his father could be, he’d been the best possible conversation partner for Kaoru. With his father and mother around, Kaoru hadn’t been inclined to wonder why he’d been born into this world. He’d never had doubts about his identity.

What Reiko sought in Kaoru was a father figure for her son. Kaoru didn’t have a problem with that. He was confident he could play that role, and do it well.

But, he wondered: Does she also want a husband figure for herself?

Kaoru’s imagination began to run away with him. He wasn’t as confident on that score. But he wanted to at least try to be the man Reiko needed.

They arranged a date and time for his next visit. Then Kaoru left Ryoji’s hospital room.

4 (#ulink_43e92786-64e0-5343-a399-1b58da952948)

Kaoru and Ryoji ended up talking with each other a lot, even outside their scheduled lessons. Usually their talks ended up focusing on general science topics. Kaoru was reminded of his own childhood, when his desire to understand the world had led him to delve deeply into natural science.

At one time, Kaoru had desired to formulate a system or theory that would encompass and explain things normally dismissed as non-science—paranormal phenomena. But the more he learned, the more he came to see that no matter what unified theory he came up with, there would still be phenomena that couldn’t be accounted for within it. That realization combined with his father’s illness turned his exploring impulses into an interest in a practical field of study, namely medicine.

Kaoru snapped out of his reverie and looked at Ryoji, a younger fellow-inquirer into the workings of the universe.

Ryoji was sitting cross-legged on his bed as always, rocking gently back and forth. Reiko was in a chair by the window, watching them talk, and she must have been fairly sleepy, for she’d started moving her head back and forth in time with her son’s movements.

“So is that what you’re interested in right now?”

Ryoji had been peppering Kaoru with questions about genetics.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Ryoji turned his normally hollow gaze forward and began to stretch where he sat on the bed. He was smiling like he always did, although there was nothing funny about what they were discussing. It wasn’t a healthy smile. It was the desperate grin of someone at the end of his own life scorning the world. Kaoru thought he’d gotten used to it, but it could still annoy him if he looked at it long enough. If his father smiled like that, he’d give him a good talking-to—he’d rip into him, father or not.

There was only one way to wipe that smile off Ryoji’s face: goad him into a passionate debate.

Kaoru changed the subject. “So what are your thoughts on the theory of evolution?” It was a natural progression from genetics.

“What do you mean?” Ryoji squirmed and rolled his eyes at Kaoru.

“Okay, how’s this for starters? Does evolution move randomly or toward a predetermined goal?”

“What do you think?” This was one of Ryoji’s less pleasing habits. He always tried to ferret out his interlocutor’s thinking first, instead of coming straight out with his own opinion.

“I think evolution moves in a certain direction, but always with a certain latitude for choice.” Kaoru couldn’t bring himself to give a ringing endorsement of mainstream Darwinian evolutionary theory. Even now that he was taking his first steps toward becoming a specialist in a natural science, he couldn’t completely abandon the idea that there was a purpose behind it all.

“The direction theory. That’s pretty much what I believe, too.” Ryoji leaned toward Kaoru, as if he’d accomplished something.

“Shall we start with the emergence of life?”

“The emergence of life?” Ryoji looked truly astonished.

“Sure. How you look at the emergence of life is an important question.”