Summertime of the Dead (21 page)

The Lump looked a little embarrassed. ‘Rucksack,' she said.

I knew then why she always wore that jacket. It was to hide those worn-out T-shirts. All the rest of her clothes she could fit into that tiny rucksack. Those phoney parents of hers must have spent all their money on themselves and their piano-playing daughter. No wonder the kids at school picked on her.

Grandmother looked taken aback but she tried to hide it. ‘Well, it's always good to travel light,' she said. Then she nodded to Yoshe and they both went into her room.

‘I'd like to buy you a present before you leave,' I said. ‘What would you like?'

The Lump had a think. ‘Shinai,' she said.

‘No, you can have anything you want.'

The Lump had another think. ‘Shinai.'

I went upstairs and came down with the best shinai I had.

‘Wrapped up,' said the Lump.

‘Wrapping paper? … I know there's some in the kitchen.'

But then Yoshe came out of Grandmother's room. ‘Mikazuki, how would you like to come shopping with me?'

‘Shopping?'

Yoshe smiled. ‘Yes, just us two girls.'

The Lump's eyes lit up.

I heard someone knocking on the door and my eyes opened.

‘Yukio.' Yoshe looked in. ‘If you're going to take Mikazuki to dinner, you'll have to get up.'

It was like I'd only been asleep ten minutes, but I could tell by the light that the sun had set. I got showered and dressed and went downstairs, and there I got the shock of my life. The Lump was wearing a kimono! It was cream-coloured and covered with long-legged cranes and lotus blossoms. And it had long sleeves and a wide waistband. She was even wearing the straw sandals and the white socks that geishas wore. My cousin Mikazuki looked like a lump in everything she wore, but she looked like a superstar in a kimono. Yoshe was smiling while Grandmother was trying to hide how proud she felt. But the Lump was biting her lip. It was like she was waiting for my approval.

‘You look great,' I said.

Her face beamed into a smile and she looked down at herself, with her arms out, as though proud of her own appearance.

Grandmother glared at me. ‘Jeans and T-shirt? I think not! Now go and get changed!'

I ran upstairs, put on pants and a proper shirt and ran back down.

Yoshe was holding a camera. ‘Quick, Yukio, before the taxi comes.'

I stood next to Grandmother, and the Lump stood in front of us. I put my hand on her shoulder and we all looked as proud as we could. Yoshe took the photograph. ‘It's a great shot!' We heard a horn outside and Yoshe opened the door. ‘Taxi's here.'

Grandmother looked a little sad now that it was time for the Lump to leave. ‘You're family, Mikazuki. And family is important in this house. Know that you are always welcome here.' Then, with more than a little ceremony, Grandmother bowed to the Lump.

The Lump bowed back. ‘Thank you, Grandmother.'

We went outside and got in the taxi. Yoshe came
out and handed the Lump a silk fan. ‘Don't forget this … Now, I'll meet you at Tokyo station with her luggage. Don't be late.'

‘I won't,' I said.

The Lump waved at Yoshe and the taxi drove away. Then she sat back and smiled.

Strange – earlier that day I was training to kill someone. Then I went insane. And then the Lump brought me back to my senses. If she hadn't I would have been on my way to Uncle Benni's house, where I definitely would have been killed. But that was the Lump for you. She mightn't have been able to put two sentences together, but she saw a world that other people didn't. And when she showed it to me all the bad things seem to fade away.

We pulled up opposite the seriously crowded Shinjuku station and stepped on to Shinjuku Terrace: a smooth pedestrian walkway that ran below the skyscrapers and above the train tracks. It was lined with trees, cafes and coffee shops and a lot of people came here to people-watch. And they were getting a treat tonight. The Lump linked her arm through mine and we walked along the terrace with an audience watching us. I felt a little embarrassed at first, because of the attention. But then I saw how
pleased the people were when they saw her. They pointed her out to their friends, and they'd point her out to other people. Then an American came out of Starbucks.

‘May I?' he asked, holding up his camera.

I stood to one side and stooping like a professional he lined her up. The Lump never smiled or posed but she stood as tall as she could.

‘Can you open your fan?' asked the American.

She opened up her fan and held it in front of her. The man took one picture and then another. And then cellphones raised as more people came to capture the image. And then I thought about the photographs on Grandmother's wall. And how, in a hundred years' time, the Lump might be on someone's wall. And the people would look back to this period and wonder who she was and where she came from. Well, she was my cousin and I was proud of her.

I put my arm through hers, and passing the trees we crossed the wide pedestrian footbridge that led to Takashimaya Times Square, a huge building that sold everything from camping gear to designer clothes. But we weren't interested in shopping. We took the outside elevator to the top, and as we rose
the Lump put her head to the glass. She watched the trains, and the terrace, and the people who shrunk to the size of ants. Then the bell for the doors chimed and we stepped out on to a floor filled with fancy restaurants.

It was a nice place with big couches and balconies and rooftop walkways. And I knew the Lump would like it, and she did. She smiled as we strolled around, but she barely looked at the restaurants, even though we were there to eat.

‘What about this place?' I asked.

It was a steak place that my mother had taken me to one time. It had soft lights and candles on the tables and they served the steaks with knives and forks. We went inside and got shown to a table by the window. The smiling waiter pulled back the chair so the Lump could sit down. ‘You look very nice,' he said. And then taking our order he moved away.

It felt warm and cosy inside and everyone seemed happy. They were mainly couples, talking and laughing. But there were a group of older women as well and they all seemed to be smiling at the Lump.

‘Everyone watching,' she said.

‘It's because you look good,' I said.

The Lump was pleased with this, but trying not to show it she looked at the view. It was a great view too. We could see all of Shinjuku's skyscrapers and tall buildings blazing away in lights, and they seemed to go on forever. I'm not kidding – we could see five miles or more, but they never seemed to end. And they all had these flashing red warning lights at the top to stop the helicopters crashing into them. It was like looking at a thousand red stars. And the whole thing looked like a futuristic city from a scientific world.

‘Happy,' said the Lump in a soft voice. It was like she was talking to herself.

‘Me too,' I said.

We didn't say much after that. We didn't have to. And when the food came the Lump ate slowly and delicately. It wasn't so important to her any more. Maybe all she wanted was somebody to care for her, and now she'd found three people who did. And that's not counting the baby.

When we were finished we had ice cream and then tea. And then we stepped out on to the rooftop terrace and strolled around like we were in a park. The Lump never got bored of the blazing lights.
They were magical to her and she watched them as we walked.

‘Beautiful!' she said.

When it was time to go we strolled back along Shinjuku Terrace and once again we ran the gauntlet of the photographers. The cameras were still flashing as we got into the taxi. It was like we were a pair of celebrities for the night.

‘Famous,' said the Lump.

I laughed then. And we had a nice drive to the station. I even gave the Lump a bit of a tour. And when the taxi pulled up outside Tokyo station the first people we saw were Yoshe and the baby. ‘I wanted him to say goodbye,' said Yoshe, ‘but he fell asleep.'

The Lump put on her rucksack, and leaning into the buggy she kissed him on the cheek. And then she touched his face affectionately. I could see she was sad about leaving him.

‘He'll miss you a lot,' said Yoshe. ‘We all will.' She gave the Lump a hug and a kiss. ‘Goodbye, Mikazuki. Come back soon.'

She handed her a dozen bags from different department stores and of course I knew what was in them. Grandmother might have been as mean as
a mountain monkey, but she was always generous with money.

‘Bye, Yoshe,' said the Lump. But then she looked like she didn't want to go.

‘You'd better get going,' said Yoshe in a gentle way. ‘Don't want to miss your train.'

I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘Come on,' I said.

I took the shinai, and some of her bags, and we made our way inside. We weaved around the people, and showing the guard her ticket we went through the gate. I heard an announcement for the sleeper train to Sapporo. And looking up at the screen I saw which platform it was leaving from.

We took the escalator up to the busy platform just in time to see the sleek-bodied bullet train gliding into the station. It was snub-nosed, like a plane, and it seemed to go on for miles. I checked the Lump's ticket and we scurried around the piles of luggage to get to her compartment.

‘Well, this is it,' I said.

I gave her the bags, and going inside she put them above her seat. I looked down the platform, at all the people who were saying goodbye. They seemed happy, but I wasn't because I knew she didn't want to go. And I didn't want her to go
either. But I tried to smile when she came out and I handed her the shinai, which I'd wrapped in gift paper.

‘You can beat those kids with it if they try to bully you.'

The Lump looked worried then.

Suddenly I was seething! ‘Hey, you tell those kids if they go near you I'll—'

‘Do no harm,' said the Lump. And then she got on the train.

Was that it? She wasn't going to say goodbye? I could see her putting the shinai on the seat and then she took something from her rucksack. I looked at the clock. Only two minutes left! She'd have to get off now if she wanted to say goodbye! I was relieved when she did. She opened a silver tin containing homemade cards, every one a different colour. And she frowned as she looked at them as though wondering what colour to give me. It was a difficult decision.

‘For you,' she said, and handed me an orange card. It said her full name: Mikazuki Mia Takeda. And her cell number was below.

We just stood there then, feeling a little shy. The Lump wasn't much of a talker and I was lost for
words. And so I knelt down in front of her and we hugged. ‘I'll call you. I promise.'

‘Best friend, Yukio!' said the Lump.

When we heard the whistle she got on the train and sat by the window. There was a chiming sound to indicate that the doors would close and then they did.

‘Have a safe trip,' I said.

When the train started to pull away I walked after it. The Lump put her hand on the window as if to touch my hand. And then I saw she was crying.

‘It'll be OK!' I said. ‘You can come back any time!'

But then the train shot away and she was gone. I felt so alone then. But then a worse feeling came over me. It was like I was never going to see her again.

‘It's just a feeling,' I said. ‘It doesn't mean anything.'

After a while I turned around and walked down the empty platform. I was going home to a house where there was only Grandmother, who rarely came out of her room. The train wasn't even out of Tokyo and I was missing her already.

A month had passed since the Lump had left. For the first week I was sure that the cops were going to come through the door. In the second week I was less sure. And by the end of the third week I was almost sure they weren't coming. I mean, I never saw that Detective Maki, not once. And if he suspected me he'd no doubt have come snooping around. And so in the end I stopped worrying. I even started to feel happy again. In a way I didn't want to feel happy. I still felt guilty over some of the killings, especially the cop. But that's how I was feeling all the same.

I trotted downstairs and passed the paper but I never picked it up. Articles on the Psycho Killer were moved to the middle pages and then they disappeared altogether. The last I read he was rumoured to be
a foreign assassin who had returned to his own country. Another article said, in something of a whisper, that he'd been killed by the yakuza and they'd disposed of his body. The headlines returned to the suicide rate, which was now out of control. It had become a nationwide problem and was being debated in the House of Representatives, but they didn't seem able to do anything about it. But how anyone could think of suicide on a day like today was beyond me. It was such a beautiful day.

I went into the kitchen, which smelled of bacon and eggs, and took a seat. Yoshe's baby boy put an egg soldier in his ear and laughed. Then he scowled at me. ‘Mikazuki!' he said. And he said it like I'd taken her away from him. I just ignored him – he got on my nerves some days. But I couldn't believe that he'd remembered the Lump's name. He didn't even know my name.

Yoshe came in with Grandmother's breakfast dishes and put them in the sink. Then she saw the state of the baby. ‘You naughty boy!' The baby laughed and rubbed egg into the table until Yoshe stopped him. She put some breakfast in front of me and started to clean him up. ‘You look well,' she said.

‘It's all the training.'

‘I'm glad you're back to your old self. You know, some of your school friends came by yesterday. They said they'd see you in the park around ten. And they said Shiomi would be with them!' She smiled and waited for me to say something, but I just carried on eating. ‘Well, who is she?'