The Travelling Cat Chronicles

EPILOGUE NOT THE END OF THE ROAD

PURPLE AND YELLOW flowers in bloom as far as the eye can see.

The earthy, warm colours of Hokkaido in autumn.

There I am, chasing a honeybee.

Stop it, Nana.

A voice sounding flustered. He grabs hold of me and carries me tightly in his two hands.

What if you get stung?

Satoru, smiling as he reprimands me.

Hey, it’s been a while. You look good.

I rub my small cheeks against Satoru’s arms.

All thanks to you. How about you, Nana?

I’m good – all thanks to you.

Ever since the day he departed on his journey, every time Satoru visits me it’s always in this field. This open expanse, with its riot of flowers.

But I wonder how many more of these winters I can put up with.

You’re getting on.

Don’t say that. Just because you left this world when you were younger than me, don’t get carried away.

A mellow sun shines but there is a dusting of snow fluttering in the air. Another winter is just around the corner.

And I’m finally coming to the end of my story.

Satoru left behind a list of people he was close to or who had helped him in one way or another, together with a note requesting that they all be contacted and thanked. Which Noriko duly did.

I was amazed by how many condolence letters and telegrams flooded in. Not just from friends, but from colleagues and former supervisors at work, and even from former school teachers of his. Even people Noriko didn’t contact, but who had heard the news, got in touch.

Noriko was terribly busy dealing with them all. I think it was good for her to be busy so soon after Satoru passed away. I was worried she would become depressed after his death. ‘She might age a whole decade,’ Satoru told me when he was in hospital. ‘So you’ve got to stay by her side, okay?’

In the end, Noriko aged maybe two or three years, max. I mean, she wasn’t that young to begin with (about as old as Momo the cat, I imagine), so a couple of years wasn’t going to make much difference. Oops. If Noriko or Momo heard that, I imagine they’d be pretty upset!

‘Satoru knew so many kind and thoughtful people, Nana.’

As well as sending their condolences, people asked to come and light incense and pray in memory of him. They were all people I knew, and Satoru had left handwritten letters for all of them.

On Honshu, the main island, the cherry blossoms were blooming further and further northward. They wouldn’t start blooming in Hokkaido for a while, though. On the streets of Sapporo, there was even some leftover snow in the shadier spots.

The weather was dodgy for a few days, but on the day of the funeral the sun shone. It was as though Satoru was welcoming his guests. It was a quiet affair, with only Noriko and relatives on his mother’s side attending. I waited at home while the funeral was taking place. I can’t say I’m much interested in the ceremonies humans like to conduct.

I was in the hospital to see him off. But he’s still here, in my heart, so I don’t need a ceremony to remember him.

Later, several people I hadn’t seen for a long time arrived at Noriko’s and my apartment: Kosuke and Yoshimine, and Sugi and Chikako.

They all wore black and didn’t say much, their lips drawn.

‘Please – come on in. I ordered some sushi. It’s fine to have some, now that the period of abstinence is over. And I’ll make some soup to go with it, so please wait a moment.’

Noriko said this cheerfully, but the others were concerned they were causing too much trouble.

‘I’m so sorry you have to do all this,’ Kosuke said, and all the other guests murmured their agreement, bowing to her.

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m delighted to have Satoru’s friends over.’

‘Do you need some help?’ Chikako said, standing up. But Noriko waved her offer away.

‘Don’t worry. I’m really not comfortable having people in my kitchen.’

As usual, Noriko didn’t mean anything by this, but it made Chikako feel a little awkward. If Satoru had been there, he would have said, ‘I’m sorry. Her heart’s in the right place.’ But Noriko kept her eyes fixed on the chopping board and didn’t seem to notice.

If she had seen Chikako’s reaction, she would no doubt have said something else and dug herself into an even deeper hole.

‘Instead of helping, why don’t you play with Nana?’

Oh – well played, Noriko, to get me in on the act. I went over to Chikako and rubbed the side of my body up against her leg.

‘Hi, Nana. I wish we could have taken you in,’ she said, reaching down to fondle my tummy.

‘Hm?’ Kosuke said. ‘Did Satoru arrange a meeting with Nana for you, too?’

‘He did,’ said Chikako and Sugi together, both smiling wryly. ‘Our dog and Nana didn’t really get on, so it didn’t work out.’

‘For me, it was my kitten that was the problem.’ This from Yoshimine.

This seemed to break the ice, and they all started telling each other their Nana stories. ‘Nana is surprisingly fussy,’ Kosuke said. An uncalled-for remark, if you ask me.

Oh, really? And who’s the one who quarrels with his wife and gets all weepy about it, eh?

It seemed that Kosuke and his wife had adopted their own cat. Kosuke proudly showed a few photos on his phone of a pretty silver mackerel tabby. You and Satoru might have been childhood friends, but there’s no need to show off your cat like that.

Then Yoshimine pulled out his mobile phone. ‘Me too,’ he said, passing it around.

Et tu, Yoshimine? That cat with the silly name, Chatran, had grown up to be a rugged young thing. He was an expert at catching mice now. Perhaps my efforts to train him had paid off.

‘Satoru met him, so I thought I’d show him this photo.’

Yoshimine got up and went over to the altar in the corner of the room set up in memory of Satoru.

‘If I’d known we were going to be bragging about our pets, I would have brought my photo album,’ Chikako said, but she and Sugi weren’t about to be left behind when it came to animal photos. Both of them pulled out their mobile phones to share photos of Momo and Toramaru.

‘We run a bed and breakfast that welcomes pets, so please stop by sometime,’ Sugi said, pulling out some business cards. They all exchanged addresses.

You know something, Satoru? After you passed away, the people who miss you all became connected.

‘If you wouldn’t mind taking one, too?’ Sugi said to Noriko, handing her his business card as she brought in the sushi.

Yes, please, give her one, I thought. I’d like to lie down all snug on top of that boxy warm TV set again someday.

‘Thanks. I haven’t climbed Mount Fuji in ages, and that would be lovely.’

Go right ahead, Noriko. I’ll hold the fort back at the Sugis’, on top of that toasty TV.

They all sat around the table, eagerly sharing stories about Satoru.

‘What? So Satoru didn’t swim in junior high?’ Kosuke blinked in surprise.

‘That’s right.’ Yoshimine nodded. ‘When he was with me, we were in the gardening club together. Was he that good at swimming?’

‘He was in the swimming club all through elementary school. He won a lot of races in big galas, and people had high hopes for him… Did he swim in high school?’

Sugi and Chikako both shook their heads.

‘He had a lot of friends, but he wasn’t in any particular club.’

‘Really? He was such a fast swimmer. I wonder why he gave it up.’

As she gave me some tuna sushi, minus the wasabi, Noriko casually murmured, ‘Must have been because you were no longer with him, Kosuke.’

Oh, Noriko, what is wrong with you? You’re usually so clumsy with words, but occasionally what you say is spot on and cuts right to the quick. Kosuke’s face fell.

‘As he was writing those letters, he told me a lot about all of you. About how he and you, Kosuke, ran away from home with the cat, and that he was a little bit worried about you since you and your wife had argued.’

Come on now – you didn’t have to say that!

‘We’re fine now,’ Kosuke hurriedly explained.

‘He told me how much he enjoyed helping you, Yoshimine, and your grandmother in the fields, and how you always did things at your own pace and ran off in the middle of class to take care of the greenhouse, and how anxious that made him.’

Yoshimine looked out of the window, as if deep in thought.

‘He also told me how Sugi and Chikako loved animals and were a great couple together, and how happy he was when he got to see you again in college.’

Kosuke’s bottom lip began to tremble, and Chikako wiped away tears.

‘But why…’ Sugi muttered. ‘Why didn’t Satoru tell us he was sick?’

That’s disappointing. Just like always, you stammer out things you shouldn’t.

You really don’t understand why?

‘I kind of understand why,’ Yoshimine said. ‘He wanted to say farewell with everybody still smiling.’

Bingo!

Satoru loved all of you guys.

That’s why he wanted to take your smiles with him.

Simple enough, I think.

‘The letters…’ Kosuke’s voice was weepy, but he smiled all the same. ‘In his letters, he wrote about all kinds of funny things. Silly jokes and gags, too. I laughed, thinking, This can’t be his last letter, can it?’

They all chuckled.

When it was time for them to leave, Noriko drove them to the airport in the silver van. Satoru’s silver van had become Noriko’s silver van. Though no longer the magical vehicle that had shown Satoru and me so many amazing sights, it still did the job.

Okay, then. Before Noriko got back, I had something to do.

Noriko came home after dark, and as she wandered into the living room she let out a scream.

‘EEEEK! Nana! You did it again!’

I’d removed every single tissue from the box and was sitting quietly in the corner contemplating the result of my actions.

‘You don’t use them, so why take them out?’

Good point. But as you focus on your anger and on tidying up the floor, don’t all your sad feelings begin to lift a bit?

‘What a waste! What a complete waste!’ Noriko muttered as she strutted around picking up the tissues, but then, as if letting out a soft puff of air, she laughed.

SEVERAL YEARS HAVE passed.

Kosuke turned his shop into a studio specializing in pet photos. This was thanks to Satoru’s advice, he told us, so I was welcome any time for a free photo session. But the New Year cards that arrive have begun to feature bizarre photos of his dressed-up mackerel tabby, who always looks so sullen. So I’ll take a rain check.

Now and again, Yoshimine sends us vegetables he’s grown. I’m sure Hokkaido has great vegetables, too, he writes in the short note he always includes in his vegetable box. It’s more than Noriko could eat by herself, so she’s kept busy running around, sharing them all out with her friends and acquaintances.

Noriko did take me once to stay at the Sugis’ B&B. The purpose, though, was for her to climb Mount Fuji while the Sugis took care of me. While she was gone, I enjoyed the warmth of that boxy TV underneath my belly to my heart’s content.

Momo had become a refined old lady cat, and nervy Toramaru had transformed into quite the sensible pooch. Sorry about back then, he apologized.

I almost forgot – the Sugis have a child now. A precocious little girl who greeted Noriko with a ‘Welcome, Grandma,’ which made her blush.

The berries on the mountain ash along the streets are bright red again this year. And pretty soon there’ll be a constant layer of snow on the ground.

How many times, I wonder, have I seen this red that Satoru taught me?

One day, Noriko brought home a very unexpected guest.

‘What should I do, Nana?’

A siren-like wail was coming from the cardboard box she was carrying. Inside was a calico kitten. Not an almost-calico, but a genuine one. And because it was a pure calico, it was, of course, a female.

‘Someone abandoned it under the apartment building. I thought, since you’re already here, Nana…’

I sniffed at the wailing siren and gently gave it a lick under its chin.

Welcome. You’re the next cat, aren’t you?

‘We’re just back from the vet. Nana, do you think you two will get on?’

Save that for later. Right now, you’ve got to get some milk into its tummy. The little gal seems hungry.

I got into the box and snuggled close to the little creature to warm it up, and she promptly tried to find some nipples on me. Sorry, sweetheart – no milk to be had here.

‘Oh, she’s hungry, isn’t she? I’ve bought some milk for her. Let me warm it up.’

And so Noriko plunged into a life in which this demanding young kitten has her wrapped around her little finger every single day.

PURPLE AND YELLOW like a flood.

The field I saw on our last journey, bursting all the way to the horizon with flowers.

When I dream about these colours, Satoru always appears.

Hey, Nana. How have you been? Aren’t you a little worn out?

I suppose so. Momo at the Sugis’ left us a few years ago. I might not last as long as she did. And we have a new cat that’s arrived to take over.

Is Aunt Noriko doing okay?

Having that kitten seems to have put a spring in her step.

Noriko named the kitten Calico, after her looks. When it comes to giving the most obvious, second-rate names, you and Noriko are like two peas in a pod, I must say.

Really? It’s hard to think that she’d take in a stray cat.

Satoru seems genuinely moved.

Surprisingly, she has the makings of a cat fanatic. Whenever she gets sushi, she always gives me the toro, the best part of the tuna.

Even I might have trouble handing over the toro, Satoru says, laughing.

This is the first cat of her own she’s ever had.

That’s right.

We live together, but I’m not Noriko’s cat.

For ever and ever I am your cat, Satoru. That’s why I can’t become Noriko’s.

So, about time, maybe, for you to come over here?

Yeah, but I have one more thing I need to do first.

Satoru looks puzzled. Ahem, I say, and twitch my whiskers.

I have to help little Calico get on her feet. Noriko isn’t training her at all.

If she becomes too spoiled and ever tries to make it on her own on the streets, she’ll be toast. At the very least, I’ve got to hammer the basics of hunting into her.

To be fair, when you grab her by the scruff of the neck, her legs do immediately contract, so she clearly has potential. Much more than, say, Chatran at Yoshimine’s.

Once Calico can make it on her own, I think I’ll set off on my journey. To this place I see only in dreams.

Tell me, Satoru. What’s out there beyond this field? A lot of wonderful things, I’m thinking. I wonder if I’ll be able to go on a trip with you again.

Satoru grins, and picks me up, so I can see the far-off horizon from his eye level.

Ah – we saw so many things, didn’t we?

My story will be over soon.

But it’s not something to be sad about.

As we count up the memories from one journey, we head off on another.

Remembering those who went ahead. Remembering those who will follow after.

And someday, we will meet all those people again, out beyond the horizon.