A Pale View of Hills

Fora minute or two, I did not move. Then eventually Igot to my feet and put on my sandals. From the doorway, I could see Sachiko down by the water, the vegetable box beside her feet; she appeared not to have noticed her daughter standing several yards behind her, just at the point where the ground began to slope down steeply. I left the cottage and made my way to where Mariko was standing.

“Let’s go back to the house, Mariko-San” I said, gently. The little girl’s eyes remained on her mother, her face devoid of any expression. Down in front of us, Sachiko knelt cautiously on the bank, then moved the box a little nearer.

‘Let’s go inside, Mariko,” I said again, but the little girl continued to ignore me. I left her and walked down the muddy slope to where Sachiko was kneeling, The sunset was coming through the trees on the opposite bank, and the reds that grew along the water’s edge cast long shadows on the muddy ground around us. Sachiko had found some grass to kneel on, but that too was thick with mud.

“Can’t we let them loose?” I said, quietly. “You never know. Someone may want them.”

Sachiko was gazing down into the vegetable box through the wire gauze. She slid open a panel, brought out a kitten and shut the box again. She held the kitten in both hands, - looked at it for a few seconds, then glanced up at me. “It’s just an animal, Etsuko,” she said. “That’s all it is.”

She put the kitten into the water and held it there. She remained like that for some moments, staring into the water, both hands beneath the surface. She was wearing a casual summer kimono, and the corners of each sleeve touched the water.

Then for the first time, without taking her hands from the water, Sachiko threw a glance over her shoulder towards her daughter. Instinctively, I followed her glance, and for one brief moment the two of us were both staring back up at Mariko. The little girl was standing at the top of the slope, watching with the same blank expression. On seeing her mother’s face turn to her, she moved her head very slightly; then she remained quite still, her hands behind her back.

Sachiko brought her hands out of the water and stared at She kitten she was still holding. She brought it closer to her , We and the water ran down her wrists and arms.

“It’s still alive,” she said, tiredly. Then she turned to me and said: “Look at this water, Etsuko. It’s so dirty.” With an air of disgust, she dropped the soaked kitten back into the box and shut it. “How these things struggle,” she muttered, and held up her wrists to show me the scratch-marks. Somehow, Sachiko’s hair had also become wet; one top, then another fell from a thin strand which hung down me side of her face.

Sachiko adjusted her position then pushed the vegetable box over the edge of the bank the box rolled and landed in the water. To prevent it floating, Sachiko leaned forward and held it down. The water came almost halfway up the wire-grid. She continued to hold down the box, then final1 pushed it with both hands. The box floated a little way into the river, bobbed and sank further. Sachiko got to her feet and we both of us watched the box. It continued to float, then caught in the current and began moving more swift4 downstream.

Some movement caught my eye and made me turn, Mariko had run several yards down the river’s edge, to spot where the bank jutted out into the water. She stock there watching the box float on, her face still expression. less. The box caught in some reeds, freed itself and continued its journey. Mariko began to run again. She ran some distance along the bank, then stopped again to watch the box. By this time, only a small corner was visible about the surface.

This water’s so dirty,” Sachiko said. She had been shaking the water off her hands. She squeezed in turn the sleeve-ends of her kimono, then brushed the mud from her knees. “Let’s go back inside, Etsuko. The insects here are becoming intolerable.

‘Shouldn’t we go and get Mariko? It will be dark soon.”

Sachiko turned and called her daughter’s name. Mariko was now fifty yards or so away, still looking at the water She did not seem to hear and Sachiko gave a shrung. “She’ll come back in time,’ she said, ‘Now. I must finish packing before the light goes complete1y” She began to walk up the slope towards the cottage.

Sachiko lit the lantern and hung it from a low wooden beam. ‘Don’t worry yourself, Etsuko,” she said, “She’ll back soon enough.” She made her way through the various items strewn over the tatami, and seated herself, as before in front of the open partitions. Behind her, the sky had become pale and faded.

She began packing again. I sat down at the opposite side of the room and watched her. -

“What are your plans now?” I asked. ‘What will you do once you arrive in Kobe?”

‘Everything’s been arranged, Etsuko” she said, without

looking up. “There’s no need to worry. Frank has seen to - everything”

“But why Kobe?’