Fish of the Seto Inland Sea

‘Use this.’ Kei stood up and handed the towel to Masakazu. She asked both of them, ‘Shall I send Mata san to get the women and children from those houses?’

‘That might be an idea. Masa, you go and alert the youth club members. ‘We’ll send Yohei and Mata to the three houses nearest the river.’

‘Yes, otohsan.’ Masakazu went back to the stable and brought out the bicycle he had just put away.

‘Yohei.’ Tei-ichi called Shige’s husband. ‘Go to Kawabata and bring people from those three houses nearest the river. Take Mata with you.’

‘O’Shige san,’ Kei was heard calling. ‘Cook plenty of rice and make rice balls for the people who are coming. We need lots of hot water as well.’

‘Can we help make rice balls?’ The girls came to the kitchen.

‘Yes, yes, we need all the help we can get. Ask your okahsan to find you aprons.’

‘Oji-isama, can I go with Mata san to the river to help people?’ Shuichi asked.

‘Oh, yes, you can go, but stay with Mata and do not go near the river, do you understand?’

Watching the boy running after Matabei, Kei remarked, ‘He is getting clever. He knows I wouldn’t say “yes”.’

‘He is ten. You shouldn’t pamper him.’

Kei was quiet but she still shuddered when she remembered how close he had come to drowning.

As the darkness fell, the rain beat down harder. Masakazu came home and was going out again.

Tei-ichi called him back. ‘How is it? Do the upstream villages seem to be holding all right?’

‘So far we have not seen any sign of disaster, otohsan, but I don’t think some of the bridges are strong enough. I just came back to leave my bicycle. The wind is so strong that it’s difficult to ride.’ He called out. ‘Okahsan, I am going with the others to help the villagers upstream. Don’t worry about me, if I am late,’ but his voice was almost drowned in the torrents of rain.

‘I hope Shu-chan is all right,’ Kei said to Ayako, peering outside.

‘He is not stupid, okahsan, and Mata san will not let him out of sight,’ Ayako replied. ‘Besides, although he wouldn’t go up, the top of the dyke is quite wide. People can’t fall into the river easily. You know very well no one ever has.’

‘No, but he must be soaking wet. You get his dry clothes ready and let him have a hot bath when he comes home.’

Kei peered outside once more before she went back to the kitchen.

The wind became stronger towards midnight and brought more rain. About fifteen people including children were evacuated from their homes and came to the Shirais’. Kei did not hesitate to open up the rooms reserved for guests and special occasions and the whole household tried to settle down for an uneasy night. Outside the wind was howling.

It was about four o’clock when the rain began to subside. Once the storm had passed, the dawn brought a beautiful day such as people had not seen for a month. Shafts of golden light shone through clouds. The white feathers of pigeons on the still-wet roof were pink in the sunlight. Sparrows chattered. The hills in the distance were the colours of autumn and the leaves left on the trees were washed clean and shining. Masakazu arrived home caked with mud and without shoes. He had a bath and breakfast, and left for work. At every house, people were hanging their clothes out to dry.

A large area of the rice paddies was flooded and the water stretched far, reflecting the white clouds in the serene sky. Big trees had been washed downriver and lay sideways here and there gathering debris. Upstream the damage was considerable but in Kitani village, two houses had gone and there were no human casualties.

In the afternoon, a servant arrived from the Miwas, and Kei and Ayako realised that they had not sent a message of inquiry to Shobei and his wife. The Miwas’ house was on high ground and there was no cause for worry, but it would have been a matter of courtesy to have contacted them.

‘Oh, Zen san,’ Ayako said. ‘How are otohsama and okahsama? We are sorry we haven’t been in touch with you yet. We had so many people last night, and we are still in a muddle.’

‘They are all right, young okusama, although dansama seems to have caught a chill. He says he will come to see you tomorrow. He wanted to know if you need a hand.’

Ayako remembered that whenever there was anything unusual, however insignificant, Shobei would call on the Shirais himself.

‘Is otosahma all right?’

‘He says you should not worry.’

The day before, when the wind had been getting stronger, Rinji had called in to see if his parents needed any help. Seeing that everything had been in order, he had had a cup of tea and left soon afterwards. Shobei had stayed home and, after supper, had gone out without anyone noticing. Later when his wife had realised that he was not in his study, she had not been too concerned. He had a group of friends with whom he played the game of Go and she had thought he might have gone out to meet them, although it had not seemed like a good night to go visiting.

‘Actually, dansama walked upstream to see how his land and farmers were. I don’t think he realised how quickly the dyke would burst there. He was trapped in the flood till the youth club members rescued him early in the morning.’

Ayako frowned. She excused herself and quickly changed her kimono. To Kei she said, ‘I know he would come himself unless he felt really ill. I will just go and see how he is.’

‘Take your overnight things with you and stay there tonight. I don’t want you to come back in the dark.’

After Ayako left, Kei spent the afternoon alone worrying. She had never known Shobei to be ill. He was vigorous and had not shown much sign of ageing, but she realised that he was in his late seventies. Time had passed quickly.

Kei remembered a saying, ‘An old man should not have a cold shower’. It was a warning to old men against rash behaviour. There was a particular reason that the news of his illness disturbed her. She went into the butsuma where the ancestors’ name tablets were kept and prayed.

As she sat in supplication, she could hear in her mind Shuichi’s shrill voice calling, ‘Oji-isama! Oji-isama!’ It had been in the spring. Tei-ichi told the boy off for running around like a puppy. He said, ‘A man should never hurry, Shuichi.’ The boy said, ‘Yes, oji-isama,’ but could not hide his agitation.

‘Now, what is it?’ Tei-ichi asked.

‘There is a gigantic white snake in the butsuma, oji-isama. You should come and see. It’s hanging between the lintels like a bridge. Something bad is going to happen.’

‘In spring all snakes come out of hibernation. It is not at all unusual to see one in the house. A lot of them live among the stones of the wall.’

‘But o’Shige san said that this one is the old spirit of the house. He comes out only when a bad thing is going to happen. Last time it appeared, otohsan died.’

‘Tell Shige we have only one old spirit in this house and that is me, oji-isama.’ Shuichi looked at his grandfather and saw that his eyes were dancing with fun. ‘It is not just in spring that I am around. I am always here to guard the house. Nothing bad will happen in our family.’

Shuichi laughed and seemed to have dismissed the white snake from his mind, but Kei had not forgotten. She and Shige shared the same beliefs. Since then, she had felt uneasy whenever something happened to a member of her household. If Ayako had a cold, she had been more worried than before. Every time Shuichi set off on an adventure, she had prayed for his safety. In Shobei’s case, it was unfortunate that Rinji had not offered to undertake the inspection himself or at least accompanied his father. One thought followed after another and Kei sat in the room for a long time. Eventually she got up and told herself that, after all, Shobei would get better. He might have stayed home realising himself that he ought to be more careful.

Ayako’s stay at the Miwas’ was extended from a week to two and then three. Instead of their mother coming home, the children were called to the Miwas’. When Haruko arrived with the other children, she saw by the entrance a broad-brimmed oilskin hat and a coat that had once belonged to Shintaro. Shobei had come home wearing them and soon afterwards had taken to his bed. No one had thought of putting them away.

When Haruko had seen him on her way home from school a few days before the flood, Shobei had been wearing the oilskins.

‘Oji-isama,’ she had called, as he had not noticed her and passed by.

‘Oh, Haruko.’ He had looked surprised, then he smiled. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Yes, oji-isama.’ She had nodded.

‘Good. Good.’ He had looked as though he had wanted to tell her something but large drops of rain had started to hit them.

‘Hurry home. You’ll get wet. I’ll see you soon.’

He had stood and watched her go. He had looked as robust as ever.

While her sisters shied away from their paternal grandfather, Haruko respected him and at the same time felt close to him. Her father had trusted her and she felt the same sympathy from his father as well.