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Authors: Kazuo Ishiguro

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BOOK: A Pale View of Hills
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“Quite possibly he won’t be home,” said Ogata-San. He’ll probably spend the lunch break in the staff room with his colleagues.”

I continued to wait silently. Ogata-San remained standing beside me, gazing at the house. Finally, he said:

“Etsuko, how far is it to Mrs. Fujiwara’s from here? Have you any idea?”

“Its just a few minutes’ walk.’’

“Now I think of it, perhaps it may be best if you went on ahead, and I could meet you there. That may be the best thing."

“Very well. If that’s what you wish.”

“In fact, this was all very inconsiderate of me.”

“I’m not an invalid, Father.”

He laughed quickly, then glanced again towards the house. “I think it might be best,” he said again. “You go on ahead."

“Very well.”

“I don’t expect to be long. In fact” he glanced once more towards the house—“in fact, why don’t you wait here until I pull the bell. If you see me go in, then you can go on to Mrs. Fujiwara’s. This has all been very inconsiderate of me.”

“It’s perfectly all right, Father. Now listen carefully, or else you’ll never find the noodle shop. You remember where the doctor used to have his surgery?”

But Ogata-San was no longer listening. Across the road, e entrance gate had slid open, and a thin young man with spectacles had appeared. He was dressed in his shirt leeves and held a small briefcase under his arm. He squinted a little as he stepped further into the glare, then bent over the briefcase and began searching through it. Sigheo Matsuda looked thinner and more youthful than I remembered him from the few occasions I had met him in he past.

Chapter Nine

Shigeo Matsuda tied the buckle of his briefcase, then glancing about him with a distracted air came walking over to. our side of the road. For a brief moment he glanced our way but, not recognizing us, went walking on.

Ogata-San watched him go by. Then when the young man had gone several yards down the road, he called out:, “Ah, Shigeo!"

Shigeo Matsuda stopped and turned. Then he came towards us with a puzzled look.

“How are you, Shigeo?”

The young man peered through his spectacles, then burst into cheerful laughter.

“Why, Ogata-San! Now this is an unexpected surprise!" He bowed and held out his hand. “What a splendid surprise. Why Etsuko-San too! How are you? How nice to meet again.

We exchanged bows, and he shook hands with us both. Then he said to Ogata-San:

“Were you by any chance about to visit me? This is bad luck, my lunch breaks almost over now.” He glanced at his watch. But we could go back inside for a few minutes.”

No, no,” said Ogata-San hurriedly. Don’t let us interrupt your work. It just so happened we were passing this way, and I remembered you lived here. I was just pointing out your house to Etsuko.”

"Please, I can spare a few minutes. Let me offer you some tea at least. It’s a sweltering day out here.”

“No, no. You must get to work.”

For a moment the two men stood looking at each other. “And how is everything, Shigeo?” Ogata-San asked.

"How are things at the school?"

“Oh, much the same as ever. You know how it is. And you, Ogata-San, you’re enjoying your retirement, I hope? I had no idea you were in Nagasaki. Jiro and I seem to have st touch these days." Then he turned to me and said: “I’m always meaning to write, but I’m so forgetful.”

I smiled and made some polite comment. Then the two .en looked at each other again.

“You’re looking splendidly well, Ogata-San,” Shigeo Iatsuda said. “You find Fukuoka to your liking?”

“Yes, a fine city. My hometown, you know."

There was another pause. Then Ogata-San said; “Please don’t let us keep you. If you have to hurry away, I quite understand.”

“No, no. I have a few minutes yet. A pity you weren’t passing a little earlier. Perhaps you’d care to call in before you leave Nagasaki.”

“Yes, I’ll try to. But there’s so many people to visit.”

“Yes, I can understand how it is.”

“And your mother, is she well?”

"Yes she’s fine. Thank you.”

For a moment, they fell silent again.

“I’m glad everything’s going well,’ Ogata-San said, eventually. “Yes, we were just passing this way and I was Biting Etsuko-San you lived here. In fact, I was just remembering how you used to come and play with Jiro, then you were both little boys.”

Shigeo Matsuda laughed. “Time really flies by, doesn’t “ he said.

“Yes. I was just saying as much to Etsuko. In fact, I was St about to tell her about a curious little thing. I happened remember it, when I saw your house. A curious little thing”

Oh yes?”

Yes. I just happened to remember it when I saw your house that’s all. You see, I was reading something the other day. An article in a journal. The New Education Digest, I think it was called"

The young man said nothing for a moment, then he adjusted his position on the pavement and put down his brief case.

“I see” he said.

“I was rather surprised to read it. In fact, I was quite astonished.”

Yes. I suppose you would be.”

It was quite extraordinary, Shigeo. Quite extraordinary.”

Shigeo Matsuda took a deep breath and looked down at the ground. He nodded, but said nothing.

“I’d meant to come and speak to you for some days now,” Ogata-San continued. “But of course, the matter slipped my mind. Shigeo, tell me honestly, do you believe a word of what you wrote? Explain to me what made you write such things. Explain it to me, Shigeo, then I can go home to Fukuoka with my mind at rest. At the moment, I’m very worried.”

Shigeo Matsuda was prodding a pebble with the end of his shoe. Finally he sighed, looked up at Ogata-San and adjusted his spectacles.

“Many things have changed over the last few years," he said.

Well, of course they have. I can see that much, What kind of answer is that, Shigeo?"

“Ogata-San, let me explain.” He paused and looked down at the ground again. For a second or two, he scratched at his ear. "You see, you must understand. Many things have changed now. And things are changing still. We live in a different age from those days when . . when—you were an influential figure”

“But, Shigeo, what has this to do with anything? Things may change, but why write such an article? Have I ever something to offend you.?"

"No, never. At least, not to me personally."

“I should think not. Do you remember the day I introduced you to the principal at your school? That wasn’t so long ago, was it? Or was that perhaps a different era too?”

”Ogata-San”—Shigeo Matsuda had raised his voice, an air of authority seemed to enter his manner—"Ogata-San, I only wish you’d called in an hour earlier. Then perhaps I’d have been able to explain at greater length. There isn’t time to talk the whole thing over now. let me just say this much. Yes, I believed everything I wrote in that article and still do. In your day, children in Japan were taught terrible things. They were taught lies of most damaging kind. Worst of all, they were taught not see, not to question. And that’s why the country was plunged into the most evil disaster in the entire history."

“We may have lost the war,” Ogata-San interrupted, but that’s no reason to ape the ways of the enemy. We lost the war because we didn’t have enough guns and tanks, not because our people were cowardly, not because our society was shallow. You have no idea, Shigeo, how hard we worked, men like myself, men like Dr Endo, whom you also insulted in your article. We cared deeply for the country worked hard to ensure the correct values were reserved and handed on.”

I don’t doubt these things. I don’t doubt you were sincere and hard working. I’ve never questioned that for one moment. But it just so happens that your energies were spent in a misguided direction, an evil direction. You weren’t to know this, but I’m afraid it’s true. It’s all behind flow and we can only be thankful."

”This is extraordinary, Shigeo. Can you really believe us? Who taught you to say such things?” Ogata-San, be honest with yourself. In your heart of hearts, you must know yourself what I’m saying is true. And to be fair, you shouldn’t be blamed for not realizing the true consequences of your actions. Very few men could see where it was all leading at the time, and those men were prison for saying what they thought. But they’re free now, and they’ll lead us to a new dawn.”

“A new dawn? What nonsense is this?”

“Now, I must be on my way. I’m sorry we couldn’t discuss this any longer.”

"What is this, Shigeo? How can you say these things? You obviously have no idea of the effort and devotion men like Dr Endo gave to their work. You were just a small boy then, how could you know how things were? How can you know what we gave and what we achieved?”

“As a matter of fact, I do happen to be familiar with certain aspects of your career. For instance, the sacking and imprisoning of the five teachers at Nishizaka. April of 19, if I’m not mistaken. But those men are free now, and they’ll help us reach a new dawn. Now please excuse me.” He picked up his briefcase and bowed to us in turn. "My regards to Jim,"he added, then turned and walked away.

Ogata-San watched the young man disappear down the hill. He continued to stand there for several more moments, not speaking. Then when he turned to me, there was a smile around his eyes.

"How confident young men are,” he said. “I suppose I was much the same once. Very sure of my opinions.”

“Father,” I said. "Perhaps we should go and see Mrs. Fujiwara now. It’s time we ate lunch."

“Why, of course, Etsuko. This is very inconsiderate of me, making you stand about in this heat. Yes, let’s go and see the good lady. I’ll be very pleased to see her again.”

We made our way down the hill, then crossed a wooden bridge over a narrow river. Below us, children were playing along the riverbank, some with fishing poles. Once, I said to Ogata-San:

“What nonsense he was speaking,”

"Who? You mean Shigeo?"

“What vile nonsense. I don’t think you should pay the slightest attention, Father.”

Ogata-San laughed, but made no reply.

As always at that hour, the shopping area of the district was busy with people. On entering the shaded forecourt of the noodle shop, I was pleased to see several of the tables occupied with customers. Mrs. Fujiwara saw us and came across the forecourt.

"Why, Ogata-San,” she exclaimed, recognizing him immediately, “how splendid to see you again. It’s been a longtime, hasn’t it?’’

"A long time indeed.” Ogata-San returned the bow Mrs. Fujiwara gave him. “Yes, a long time.”

I was struck by the warmth with which they greeted each other, for as far as I knew Ogata-San and Mrs. Fujiwara had never known one another well. They exchanged what seemed an endless succession of bows, before Mrs. Fujiwara went to fetch us something to eat.

She returned presently with two steaming bowls, apologizing that she had nothing better for us. Ogata-San bowed appreciatively and began to eat.

“I thought you’d have forgotten me Long ago, Mrs. Fujiwara,” he remarked with a smile. Indeed, it’s been a long time.”

“It’s such a pleasure to meet again like this,” Mrs. Fujiwara said, seating herself on the edge of my bench. “Etsuko tells me you reside in Fukuoka these days. I visited Fukuoka several times. A fine city, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed. Fukuoka is my hometown.”

“Fukuoka your hometown? But you lived and worked [here for years, Ogata-San. Don’t we have any claim on you in Nagasaki?”

Ogata-San laughed and leaned his head to one side. “A man might work and make his contribution in one place, but at the end of it all” he shrugged and smiled wistfully—“at the end of it all, he still wants to go back to the place where he grew up.”

Mrs. Fujiwara nodded understandingly. Then she said: “I was just remembering, Ogata-San, the days when you were the headmaster at Suichi’s school. He used to be so frightened of you.”

Ogata-San laughed. “Yes, I remember your Suichi very well. A bright little boy. Very bright.”

“Do you really remember him still, Ogata-San?”

“Yes, of course, I remember Suichi. He used to work very hard. A good little boy.”

"Yes, he was a good little boy.”

Ogata-San pointed at his bowl with his chopsticks. “This is really marvellous,” he said.

"Nonsense. I’m sorry I have nothing better to give you.”

"No, really, it’s delicious.”

“Now let me see,” said Mrs. Fujiwara. “There was a teacher in those days, she was very kind to Suichi. Now what was her name? Suzuki, I think it was, Miss Suzuki. Have you any idea what became of her, Ogata-San?”

"Miss Suzuki? Ah, yes, I recall her quite well. But I’m afraid I’ve no idea where she could be now.”

“She was very kind to Suichi. And there was that other teacher, Kuroda was his name. An excellent young man.”

“Kuroda Ogata-San nodded slowly. “Ah yes, Kuroda. I remember him. A splendid teacher."

“Yes, a most impressive young man. My husband was very struck by him. Do you know what became of him?”

“Kuroda Ogata-San was still nodding to himself. A streak of sunlight had fallen across his face, lighting up the many wrinkles around his eyes. “Kuroda, now let me see. I ran into him once, quite by accident. That was at the start of the war. I suppose he went off to fight. I’ve never heard of him since. Yes, an excellent teacher. There are so many from those days I never hear of now:”

Someone called out to Mrs. Fujiwara and we watched her go hurriedly across the forecourt to her customer’s table. She stood there bowing for several moments, then cleared some dishes from the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

Ogata-San watched her, then shook his head. “A great pity to see her like this,” he said, in a low voice. I said nothing and continued to eat. Then Ogata-San leaned across the table and asked; “Etsuko, what did you say was the name of her son? The one who’s still alive, I mean.”

“Kazuo,” I whispered.

He nodded, then returned to his bowl of noodles.

Mrs. Fujiwara came back a few moments later. "Such a shame I don’t have something better to offer you,” she said.

“Nonsense,” said Ogata-San. “This is delicious. And how is Kazuo-San these days?”

“He’s fine. He’s in good health, and he enjoys his work.”

“Splendid. Etsuko was telling me he works for a motor car company.

“Yes, he’s doing very well there, What’s more, he’s thinking of marrying again.”

“Really?”

“He said once he’d never many again, but he’s starting to look ahead to things now. He has no one in mind as of yet, but at least he’s started to think ahead.”

“That sounds like good sense,” Ogata-San said. "Why, he’s still quite a young man, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is. He still has all his life ahead of him."

“Of course he has. His whole life ahead of him. You must find him a nice young lady, Mrs. Fujiwara.”

She laughed. “Don’t think I haven’t tried. But young Women are so different these days. It amazes me, how things have changed so much so quickly.”

“Indeed, how right you are. Young women these days are all so headstrong. And forever talking about washing machines and American dresses. Etsuko here’s no different."

“Nonsense, Father.

Mrs. Fujiwara laughed again, then said: "I remember the first time I heard of a washing-machine, I couldn’t believe anyone would want such a thing. Spending all that money, when you had two good hands to work with. But I’m sure Etsuko wouldn’t agree with me."

I was about to say something, but Ogata-San spoke first:

"Let me tell you," he said, “what I heard the other day. A man was telling me this, a colleague of Jiro’s, in fact. Apparently at the last elections, his wife wouldn’t agree with him about which party to vote for. He had to beat her, but she still didn’t give way. So in the end, they voted for separate parties. Can you imagine such a thing happening in the old days? Extraordinary."

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