Chapter 2: 1.1

 

 

Part 1

 

 

 　　　1

 

“Your mother has ‘Chloride Blight,’” said the doctor on the round, hospital chair.

 

The man looked like he was either in his late thirties or early twenties. His eyes remained a hint of youth that didn’t match his other features. Behind the square, black rimmed glasses, his eyes were round, and his thick eyebrows hunched as if he couldn’t decide what to say next.

 

“It is a disease in which the body is gradually replaced by salt, from the end to the center of the body”

 

I was a sea. What was that supposed to mean?

 

I looked up dazedly at the nurse standing behind. She bent down to my eye level and tried explaining. “Starting from the tips of hands or feet, little by little, the body turns into salt” The nurse, a beautiful lady with light makeup, gestured. She chopped her limbs gradually to mimic the symptom. In the end, her hand stopped at her heart “and fell apart.”

 

My eyes were fixed at the hand that stopped at her heart with dumbfounded stupor. When my wits finally caught up, I asked uncertainty.

 

“That means Mom’s going to…die?”

 

The doctor looked troubled, his face clouded, his lower lip stuck out as he ground his teeth. The expression looked almost like a fish’s.

 

A silent affirmation.

 

Still unable to accept reality, I pursued, “Body turning into salt? How…?”

 

The doctor rubbed his chin uncomfortably. “The human body is mainly composed of hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, phosphorus, and sulfur. Well, one theory is that the atoms, or rather, how they become sodium chloride…”

 

The nurse interrupted, “No one really knows what it is. Worldwide, there’s less patients with this disease than fingers on our hands— in short, this Chloride Blight is just unknown to us. It is one of the mysterious diseases of this world”

 

“So…there’s no cure?”

 

Silence.

 

The doctor’s eyes were wide open, not even blinking. Oddly like a fish pretending to be sleeping.

[TN: Fish don’t have eyelids]

 

I went back to Mom’s room on the first floor.

 

When I went in, she was looking out the west-facing window. As if the window was a picture frame for the  blooming dogwood tree. A soft breeze flitted in through the window, gently shaking the white flowers. The warm sunlight of three o’clock tinted Mom’s hair brown.

 

She noticed me and turned around, the look on her face like a little girl waiting to be scolded. I sat on the hospital’s small, round chair.

 

“Why don’t you tell me earlier?” Apparently, my voice came out angrily, and my fists were clenched. The word of her guaranteed death was so sudden and confusing I had no time to register my own feelings.

 

“Sorry…” Was all she said.

 

Her voice told me that she didn’t want to hurt me. That was just how Mom was, a kind and sensitive person. She would rather give me delicious food than eat it herself. She would rather suffer alone than hurt anyone… that was the kind of person she was. She was so kind it was cruel instead.

 

“Let me see your arm.”

 

She rolled up the sleeves of her hospital gown. I drew in my breath sharply.

 

Nothing, nothing where the middle of her forearm to her hands should be. The cross section of the stump appeared crystalline. My fingers brushed coarse grains when I rushed closer to her. When I brought my hand up, it was white, small grains.

 

Salt.

 

She was turning into salt. She would turn into salt, then scatter away in the winds. She would become this coarseness on the bed, and the wind that shook the dogwood flowers would carry her away, forever…

 

Tears came unbidden. I hugged her belly, crying.

 

“It hurts, doesn’t it…Mom, it must have hurted…”

 

A sob joined mine, she was also crying too. A cold teardrop fell on the nape of my neck.

 

“It doesn’t… No, it doesn’t…” Saying this, she twisted a few times.

 

It was a mournful movement. 

 

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She had tried to hug me back with arms she no longer had.

 

 　　　２

 

I attended Sakuranoshita Public Elementary School in Koriyama City, Fukushima Prefecture. Staying true to its name, the schoolyard was surrounded by sakura trees. Every spring, local people would often visit school for Hanami.

 

After school, when everyone had gone home and the schoolyard was quiet, I began my walk. I circled the schoolyard, keeping to where the pink of the cherry blossoms seemed to burn the blue sky. Neither the colors of the flowers nor the nightingales’ song registered in my mind. Only the distant memories of walking into the dark shadows of the tree’s shade and out to the sun again, like the slight difference of the blowing breeze, my memories muddled together.

 

I wondered how many rounds I made, but at one point, I heard music.

 

Melodic keys of piano—

 

Perhaps it had just started, or it had been there since the start, but I had finally noticed it then. Against the clear blue sky, the school building was vibrant white. I peered at the music room on the third floor. Sakura petals fluttered in the wind.

 

It was a beautiful performance, I thought. For the first time in my life, I felt that the music was beautiful. It was as if the wax in my ears and the gum in my eyes had fallen away at once, the world became bright and vivid.

 

I felt as if something hidden in the blazing rustle of the cherry blossoms, the sadness of the sound fading in the blue sky, and from the haste of the falling petals… was pulled out and lurched lightly with the piano’s tone.

 

I stood there, paralyzed.

 

At last,I headed for the music room, changed into indoor shoes, and climbed the stairs. The sun baked steps felt warm against the thin fabric of the shoes. Strangely enough, there was not a soul in sight, as if the lively sea had suddenly become empty.

 

I crossed the dimly lit corridor and stood in front of the music room. The small window of the sliding door was covered by a blackout curtain.

 

I put my hand on the door and hesitated. By every standard, I was an uninvited guest. Nonetheless, I felt I needed to know who was playing.

 

I gently push the door open.

 

The grand piano was further left, where the player was just in the shadows. But I could see the thin leg stepping on the pedal. 

 

I moved closer. The song had just reached its climax. I felt a little uneasy. 

 

Then the tune slowed down again. I saw the performer.

 

I was taken away. She was beautiful. 

 

Her bangs were barely above her eyebrows, her expression was dreamily immersed in her performance. A breeze that refilled the room with the fragrance of cherry blossoms stirred her long glossy hair. The pale light streaming in through the window showed me white her pure skin was, and her cherry-red lips were slick and shiny like pearls. Her slender body was swathed in a bright sky-blue dress—as if the sky had chosen to descend upon her.

 

The end of the performance left me crestfallen, like when a pleasant breeze died down.

 

The moment of sunshine dragged on. The nightingales began their next verse.

 

The girl blinked, her eyes moved to focus on me. Her eyes were big, almond-shaped, and intense, as if it was lit by two flames, like two flowers blooming.

 

Eternity passed. I could never be sure how much time passed then.

 

My mind rebooted, I tried to say something. “Good… It was really good.” 

 

“Thank you…” She seemed a little puzzled, but then smiled. Not sure of how to respond, I returned her smile. She pulled her hands from the key and leaned forward. “I was looking at you. The weirdo.”

 

“Weirdo?”

 

“You walked around in circles, didn’t you?”

 

I made a wry smile, my cheeks were a little hot. “I got lost.”

 

“Quite spectacularly, I’d say.” She giggled amusedly.

 

When she laughed, her large eyes narrowed impossible, she also had adorable, puffy tear ducts. She seemed oddly intrigued.

 

“Hey, so what’s it that you’re doing? I saw you stuffing things into your pocket.”

 

Her eyes were sparkling with curiosity, so I gave up and answered. “I have a serious reason for this. Don’t laugh, okay?”

 

“I won’t, I won’t.”

 

With a somewhat mischievous grin, she held up her hands as if she were scooping up water. I sighed, walked up to her and dropped the contents of my pocket onto her palms.

 

A flurry of cherry petals danced momentarily and rested on her snow-white palms.

 

She looked at me, bewildered.

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