Light and dark

[170]

IT APPEARED that even here on the narrow gauge, Tsuda was not to be left in peace by this aging optimist. What would he find when he arrived at his destination? What attitude would he adopt in accordance with the circumstances? As considerations like these faded in and out of the scenes he conjured in his imagination — the inn, the surrounding mountains, whitewater streams — the elder roused him, rapping smartly at the door to his reveries.

“They’re still making do with a temporary bridge; you’d think they didn’t have a care in the world. Even so, them laborers are scrambling down there.”

When the elder had finished cursing the fact, implying that the railroad’s negligence was at fault, that the real bridge had yet to be replaced after a flood had washed it away a year ago, he called Tsuda’s attention to a newly constructed house at the mouth of a river that flowed into the sea.

“That house was washed away, too, but somebody didn’t waste no time rebuilding it. Put the railroad to shame.”

“They probably don’t want to lose this year’s summer guests.”

“Closed for the summer in these parts will set you back some, that’s for certain. Without greed it seems that nothing gets done in much of a rush. It’s the same with this narrow gauge; one way or another they’re making do with a temporary bridge so the company jumps on its high horse and won’t replace it.”

Tsuda was left with no choice but to fall into step alongside the elder’s view of life, but during lulls in the conversation he closed his eyes as if dozing and abandoned himself to his own thoughts. A series of random, fragmented images paraded back and forth across his mind: the expression on O-Nobu’s face that morning; the Yoshikawas’ houseboy at the station; the basket of fruit he had carried onto the train. He was aware of an impulse to open the basket and share Madam’s gift with the two travelers. But he pictured vividly the effort the gesture would cost him and their insufferably overdone expressions of gratitude on accepting his generosity. Thereupon the elder and the fedora abruptly vanished and in their place a shadow-puppet image of plump Madam Yoshikawa marched into his imagination. From there at once he leaped to Kiyoko, the focal point at the center of his destination. In tandem with the train, his heart lurched forward.

The conveyance hyperbolically deemed a train clanked and rattled perilously up the steep grade of a mountainside that rose directly above the sea and then in a twinkling had nosed into the mountains and was ascending and descending on its way. The tangerines planted in terraces on most of the slopes spread a colored carpet of warm southern autumn beneath the beautiful sky.

“They look delicious.”

“They’re sour as lemons. They look much better from here.”

As it was winding its way up a steep slope, the train suddenly stopped. There was no station in sight, only some scrub trees whitened by a dusting of frost.

“What happened?”

As the old man thrust his head out the window, the conductor and the engineer alighted and began a tense exchange.

“She derailed!”

Hearing this, the old man looked quickly at Tsuda and the fedora facing him.

“Wha’d I tell you! I had me a feeling something would happen”

With these oracular words, as if he felt the time for him to babble was at hand, the old man began to indulge his garrulousness excitedly.

“In the event, I drank a farewell cup when I left home this morning, so it ain’t as if I wasn’t prepared for the worst, but Benkei’s last stand on this mountain ain’t what I had in mind. But I’ll tell you what, we could all be in our graves before they get around to hauling us out of here. The days are short and so is my patience; I can’t just sit here cooling my heels. How about we all get off and give this trash can a push?”

As he spoke, the elder rose spryly and jumped out of the train. The others, with forced, uncomfortable smiles, also stood up. Tsuda, who could hardly remain sitting in the train by himself, alighted with the others. Groaning, they threw their weight against the train while the women stood behind on the yellow-colored turf, eyes wide and mouths gaping.

“Too far! We went too far!”

The car was pulled back. Then pushed forward again. After pushing and pulling, the wheels were finally reseated on the tracks.

“We’re late again, General. With help.”

“Help from who?”

“From this old narrow gauge, who else? ’Course, without a little something like this to wake us up, we’d sleep through life.”

“We came all this way for nothing.”

“You mought say that.”

Concerned about the time, Tsuda took leave of the vigorous elder at the station where he had been told to get off and stepped alone into the twilight.