Light and dark

[16]

THE FOLLOWING afternoon Tsuda stood before Yoshikawa, summoned by him.

“I hear you came to the house yesterday.”

“I stopped in briefly and said hello to Mrs. Yoshikawa.”

“So you’re sick again?”

“A little—”

“That’s no good — every five minutes.”

“This isn’t new — I’m still recovering from last time.”

His face registering mild surprise, Yoshikawa spat out his after-lunch toothpick. From his vest pocket he removed his cigar case. Tsuda struck one of the matches on top of the ashtray. In his eagerness to appear alert, he moved too quickly and the match went out before it could be of use. Flustered, he struck a second and lifted it with care to the tip of Yoshikawa’s nose.

“At any rate, if you’re sick, you’re sick. You’d better take some time off to pull yourself together.”

Tsuda thanked his boss and started from the room. Yoshikawa spoke to him through the smoke.

“I assume you’ve let Sasaki know.”

“I spoke to Sasaki-san and to some others and arranged for them to cover me.”

Tsuda reported to Sasaki.

“If you’re going to be taking off anyway there’s no reason to put it off. Do what you have to, recover as soon as you can, and get back to work.”

Yoshikawa’s words were a limpid reflection of his temperament.

“Start tomorrow if you can arrange it.”

“As you say—”

Now Tsuda felt he had no choice but to check in to the clinic the very next day. He was halfway out the door when once again he was detained by a voice at his back.

“By the way, how’s your father doing? Full of piss and vinegar as always?”

The rich fragrance of cigar smoke abruptly assailed Tsuda’s nose as he turned back.

“He’s well — thank you for inquiring.”

“I suppose he’s writing his poetry, taking it good and easy — what a life! I ran into Okamoto on the town last night and he was talking about your father. He was envious as hell. He’s come into some leisure time himself recently, but he’s no match for your old man—”

It had never occurred to Tsuda for a minute that his father was an object of envy among this crowd. Should someone offer to exchange their circumstances for his father’s, he had felt certain they would smile stiffly and beg to be left just as they were for at least another ten years. This was of course merely an assumption he had extrapolated from his own personality. At the same time, it was based on what he understood of Yoshikawa’s temperament and that of his cronies.

“My father is behind the times so he has no choice but to live the way he does.”

Little by little Tsuda had returned to the center of the room and was now standing where he had first entered.

“You’ve got it backward — he can live that kind of life because he’s ahead of the times.”

Tsuda felt tongue-tied. His lack of fluency in comparison to his boss felt like a burden. At an awkward loss for words, he gazed at the slowly dissipating cloud of cigar smoke.

“Be careful not to cause your father any worry. I know all about everything that’s going on with you, and if you take a wrong turn, I promise you I’ll make sure your old man knows about it, you take my meaning?”

These words, as though spoken to a child, might have been in jest or an admonishment; when Tsuda had listened to them, he finally fled the room.