The Graveyard Apartment Page 20

  When Teppei shambled back to the living room, Misao had poured out a cup of coffee for him. As she placed it on the table along with a plate of ham sandwiches on toasted bread—“ham toast,” for short—Teppei gave her a remorseful smile. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Oh? For what?” Misao asked airily, not meeting his eyes.

  “I’m sorry about last night. I really wasn’t myself, at all.”

  “I gathered that.”

  “Seriously, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean the things I said.”

  “Yes, that’s what I figured. If I thought for a minute that you’d meant what you were saying, I would never have been able to forgive you.”

  “Oh. So I guess that means I said some pretty horrendous things?”

  “Yes, one or two.” Misao gave a sarcastic snort. “No, actually, you said so many horrendous things that I couldn’t even begin to list them all. Drunk or not, you really had a lot of nerve talking to me like that.”

  “So, uh, what kind of things did I say?” Teppei’s head was throbbing. He propped his elbows on the table and supported his skull with both hands.

  Misao shrugged. “Well, why don’t I give you a little sample? You said, ‘If you want to leave here so badly, just take Tamao and get the hell out. I’ll stay here by myself, and you can go off and do whatever you want.’”

  “Oh no.” Teppei sighed. “Did I really say that?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s just … shameful.”

  “In a way, it almost seemed as if you were talking to yourself.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry. I have no memory of that whatsoever. And, uh, what did you say in return?”

  “You don’t remember that, either?” Misao looked distinctly peeved.

  Teppei gave an embarrassed shake of his head.

  “So you want to hear it again, is that it?” Misao asked sharply.

  “Yes, I’d like to hear it again. I mean—I need to hear it again.”

  Misao took a deep breath and then, hesitantly and with extreme chagrin, she said, “All right, then, I’ll give you the instant replay. I said if you were going to stick around I would stay, as well, because there was no way I would ever leave you here alone. Just to be clear, I didn’t say that in any kind of a gentle, supportive, loving way. I was very angry, and I was shouting at the top of my lungs.”

  “Ah,” Teppei said, gazing at Misao with a sudden rush of fondness. She looked to him at that moment like some kind of saint or bodhisattva, while he saw himself as an unspeakably feeble, foolish excuse for a human being.

  “I’m really relieved to hear that,” he murmured. “I was afraid you might have said something to me that we could never get beyond. Or vice versa.”

  “Don’t underestimate me,” Misao said, sticking her chin in the air. “I would hope I’m a slightly better person than that.”

  “No, but seriously, I’ve been thinking a lot about moving away from here,” Teppei said as he took a sip of coffee. “It’s only been a week since we put this place on the market, and at this point we have no idea how long it might take to find a buyer. So I’ve come to the conclusion that even if we don’t manage to sell this apartment in the near future, we ought to go ahead and move out anyway. We could make do with a small rented apartment for a year or two, at least, and I’m sure everything would work out eventually.”

  Misao stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I’ve known for a while that you were thinking along those lines, too,” she said. “It really makes me happy to hear you say the words out loud, at last.”

  “You know me. I’m stubborn by nature,” Teppei said, sighing and shaking his head. “But also, buying this place really meant a lot to me. It seemed like a sort of new—I don’t know, I guess what I’m trying to say is that it seemed to symbolize a new beginning for us, a place where we could get on with our lives without being forever haunted by the past.”

  “You don’t need to explain,” Misao interrupted. “I mean, I felt exactly the same way.”

  Cookie ambled toward the balcony and let out a single, mournful howl. When Misao and Teppei looked outside, they saw that a light, steady rain had begun to fall again. “Shall I bring in the laundry?” Teppei asked.

  “That’s okay,” Misao said, smiling into his eyes. “I’ll do it. Why don’t you have another cup of coffee and try to wake yourself up? To be honest, I’m hoping we’ve seen the last of your massive-hangover phase.”

  * * *

  That evening, Teppei decided to run down to the station to buy a magazine that specialized in listings for rental apartments. Just as he was putting on his shoes in the entryway, the doorbell rang. It was Tatsuji and his wife, Naomi.

  “We just happened to be driving by,” Naomi said in her affectedly girlish voice. “Sorry about dropping in without calling first. Is now a bad time? It looks like you were on your way out.”

  “No, now is fine. I was thinking about taking a walk, but it can wait,” Teppei said, with a welcoming smile.

  “Lovely!” Naomi smiled back in a way that radiated self-confidence. She was dressed in a flashy yellow linen suit, and her sternum-length hair was coiled into an elaborate updo that was almost certainly copied from a picture in a fashion magazine. As usual, she reeked of some kind of super-potent perfume, and Teppei thought fleetingly that if this woman would only tone down her scent (and her personality) a bit, people might be less inclined to form a negative first impression of her.

  “We need to get back before dinnertime, so we can’t stay long,” Tatsuji said. He stooped to pat the head of his little niece, who had come running at the sound of the doorbell. Tatsuji was dressed in body-hugging golf wear that made him look like the very model of a modern salaryman on his day off. “But really,” he added, “what’s with this place, anyway? It’s abnormally quiet, and there’s nobody around. Is anyone else even living here anymore, besides you?”

  “The other people pretty much moved out over the last couple of months,” Teppei admitted. “It just happened to work out that way, by chance. From what I’ve heard, there should be an influx of new tenants during the summer.”

  “Oh, I see. Wow.” Tatsuji shook his head in mock wonderment. “Those people who moved out must be awfully flush, to be able to go around buying and selling apartments every few months, and then moving somewhere else. It must be nice to be so wealthy.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t know about that.” Teppei grinned. Tatsuji smiled back, and the two brothers walked into the living room side by side.

  Meanwhile, Naomi had presented Misao with a pastry box containing a French-style cake from a famous bakery she and Tatsuji had visited on their Sunday drive. Holding the box in one hand, Misao used the other one to shoo away Cookie, who was standing too close for comfort.

  “How do you like kindergarten, Tamao? Is it fun?” Naomi asked.

  “I dunno,” Tamao replied dully.

  “What? You don’t know? So you aren’t enjoying it?”

  Tamao’s only response was to let out a precociously fake-sounding laugh and then run over to where her uncle was sitting.

  A sudden scowl of vexation flitted across Naomi’s face, and she looked as though she wanted to say something like, “What a rude child! Someone really ought to teach her some manners!” A moment later, though, the frown had disappeared.

  “You’re looking well, Tatsuji,” Misao called out from the kitchen, where she was boiling water for coffee and black tea. The tea was for Naomi (who never touched a drop of coffee, claiming it was bad for the skin) and Tamao.

  “Thanks, uh, Sis,” Tatsuji said, stumbling slightly, as usual, over the prescribed term of interfamilial address. “How about you? Have you started working again?”

  “Yes, here and there. I’ve just been taking assignments I can do in my spare time. You know, when you have a small child at home it’s hard to get out too often, so—”

  “Oh, I see the horrid graveyard’s sti
ll there,” Naomi interrupted. She had gone over to stand by the sliding-glass doors, and was gazing at the view beyond the balcony. “It looks as if the landscaping has filled in since the last time we were here. Oh, on second thought, I guess that’s just because the weeds have grown up. Never mind that, though. I’m much more interested in knowing why everybody who was living in this building decided to move away.”

  A brief, awkward silence fell over the group, but Tatsuji rode swiftly to the rescue. “It’s because real estate prices in this area have gone up, and people wanted to sell their units here and move somewhere better,” he said. “They were just doing what they had to do, using their wits to stay afloat and avoid financial disaster. It happens all the time. People sell when the time seems right and then move on to buy a unit in another building that seems likely to appreciate in value. A guy like me, nonchalantly living in a house provided by my in-laws, really seems to be a vanishing breed these days. I may even be the only one left! If Naomi were to divorce me any time soon I probably wouldn’t be able to survive on my own, and I might end up dying in the gutter.”

  “Yes, and that’s why you can never think about leaving me,” Naomi said lightly, but her eyes were shooting meaningful daggers at Teppei. “Yet even though Tatsuji can’t support us properly, he still has the nerve to make silly jokes about getting a divorce, saying that if we split up he might get lucky and meet a better class of woman. He can be such an idiot sometimes. He talks a good game, but in reality he can’t even be the man of the house, and we have to rely on my parents for help.”

  After another moment of awkward silence, everyone quickly gathered around the coffee table in the living room and made a great show of enjoying the cake and hot beverages Misao had set in front of them. Teppei wasn’t in a festive mood, by any means, so he surreptitiously fed his slice of cake to Cookie, who was lurking hopefully under the table.

  Between bites, Tatsuji began asking Tamao about kindergarten, and her new friends, and so on. Tamao gave perfunctory replies, and the expression on her face made it plain that she wasn’t enjoying the interrogation. Finally, after she finished shoveling the last crumbs of cake into her mouth, she cast an imploring glance at Teppei, clearly looking for an escape from her uncle’s endless questions. “Um, Papa?” she said. “When are we going to move away?”

  “Move away?” Naomi echoed in a tone that was even more strident than usual. “What’s Tamao talking about?” she demanded, turning to look at Teppei. “I want details, now!”

  Naomi was holding her teacup in one hand, and her lipstick had left a livid mark on the rim of the cup. Without taking his eyes from that repellent yet somehow mesmerizing lip print, Teppei let out a theatrical laugh but made no reply.

  “What’s going on, Tepp?” Tatsuji asked. “You’re moving out?” When Teppei still didn’t answer, Tatsuji looked at Misao, but she quickly averted her gaze.

  Teppei lit a cigarette, then spoke at last. “No, I mean, it’s not as if anything’s been decided for sure. We’ve just been thinking that we might start looking for another apartment, sometime before the end of the summer.”

  “When you talk about finding another apartment, does that mean you’re planning to sell this one?” Naomi asked, making her eyes big and round. “It’s only been four months or so since you moved in here, isn’t that right? Why in the world would you—”

  “There’s no particular reason,” Teppei interrupted. “We’ve just changed our minds, that’s all.” Even as he spoke, he was aware that this explanation must have sounded singularly lame and unconvincing.

  Tamao clutched her mug of tea with both hands and stared at Teppei with a grave expression. She appeared to be on the verge of saying something. Please don’t, Teppei entreated silently, using his eyes to convey that message to his daughter. Please don’t mention the things that have happened in the basement, or with the TV, or the elevator, or the handprints on the glass door, okay?

  “But what a shame, just when Tamao has gotten used to her nice new kindergarten. Isn’t that right, Tamao?” Naomi asked in a puzzled tone. Nodding in agreement, Tamao opened her mouth as if to speak, but Misao quickly jumped in and changed the subject.

  “Watch out, Tamao. Your tea’s about to spill!” she exclaimed, grabbing the mug out of her daughter’s hand in a calculated bit of displacement activity.

  “It wasn’t going to spill, at all,” Tamao retorted sulkily.

  “Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Tatsuji barked. “Have you taken leave of your senses? I mean, it seems like just the other day you were bragging all over town about buying this fantastic apartment. You must still owe a ton on the mortgage, don’t you?”

  Teppei slowly chewed his lip while he tried to think of a convincing lie. He finally went with, “You know the graveyard that’s right outside our windows? Well, apparently the temple that owns it, Manseiji, has decided that it wants to buy the land this building stands on. Something about needing to expand the cemetery, or something. So that’s why—”

  “Whoa, have they been sending gangsters to try to strong-arm you?” Tatsuji broke in, leaning forward in his chair.

  “No, no, nothing like that. It just looks as if that deal might come to fruition down the road, maybe a few years from now. That was probably a factor in everyone else’s deciding to move out so quickly, too. Look, I’ll be honest. We realize now that we bought a good apartment in a bad location, and we’re having second thoughts about that decision. So we’ve just started to talk about looking for a new place before things get any more complicated.”

  “That’s right,” Misao said, exchanging a quick, complicit glance with Teppei. “The temple, Manseiji, has been here practically forever. From what we’ve heard, the land this building stands on originally belonged to the temple. It isn’t the most comfortable feeling to be living somewhere when you know there are people trying to figure out a way to reclaim the land beneath you.”

  “Oh, now I get it,” Naomi said, evidently taking this implausible explanation at face value. She was the kind of woman who would be on the edge of her seat with avid interest the minute a conversation began to veer in the direction of matters involving money or property. “In that case, it sounds as though the temple will be willing to buy this entire building,” she went on. “So you won’t lose your investment, after all.”

  “Yeah, but wait,” Tatsuji said doubtfully. “This building only went up last year, and you said new tenants would be coming in over the summer. Your story about the temple doesn’t pass the smell test, somehow.”

  “Well, of course there’s more to it,” Teppei said, scratching furiously at the nape of his neck. “When you look out the window, the first things you see are a graveyard and a crematorium smokestack, and I think most people would eventually start to question the decision to live in that sort of environment. I think that’s the reason behind more than a few of the current vacancies.”

  “Ah, the truth comes out at last!” Tatsuji crowed. “Isn’t that exactly what I’ve been saying all along? I can’t believe you’re so dense that you’re only just realizing it now.”

  “Teppei hasn’t gotten fed up with living here, at all,” Misao fibbed, with a disingenuous smile. “I’m the one who’s been wanting to move. We’ve been going back and forth about this for days, and I finally just wore him down.”

  “Have you found a new place yet?” Naomi asked eagerly.

  “No, not yet.” Misao narrowed her eyes, suddenly on guard against saying too much. “We’ve told a rental agency what we’re looking for, and I’m sure they’ll come up with something before too long.”

  “Finding a new place really does seem like the best thing to do,” Tatsuji said, looking from Teppei to Misao. He seemed to be struggling to put his thoughts into words. “I mean, let’s face it, there’s something kind of creepy about living all by yourselves in a building where everyone else has moved out.”

  Teppei sensed that Tatsuji had been on the verge of saying something el
se, something about the unsettling proximity of the graveyard and the temple and the crematorium, but had decided to keep that thought to himself.

  “Once you have a moving date, please be sure to let us know,” Tatsuji went on. “We’ll be standing by to do anything we can to help.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Misao said, and Teppei nodded gratefully.

  A short while later Tatsuji and Naomi stood in the entryway, getting ready to leave. As Naomi was scraping some dirt off one of her stiletto-heeled white leather pumps she said, “Oh, by the way, there’s something wrong with the elevator in this building. Earlier, when we first got here, I’m positive we hit the button for the eighth floor, but it went down to the basement instead.”

  Teppei gave Misao a meaningful glance, then faked a chuckle and said lightly, “Sometimes it acts up like that. There’s some kind of mechanical glitch that never seems to get fixed properly.”

  “It was pitch-dark down in the basement,” Tatsuji said, reaching back to massage his own neck with both hands. “Oh, and also, it smelled kind of musty or moldy or something.”

  “That’s probably because nobody really uses it anymore,” Misao said, giving her brother-in-law a painfully forced smile.

  “You could open it up and throw a dance party! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Naomi said, pitching her voice even higher than usual and somehow managing to affect a childish lisp at the same time. “Apparently that kind of thing is all the rage these days. You know, like staging rock concerts in lofts or warehouses?”

  Misao nodded, then said in an apathetic monotone, “Sure, why not? Maybe we’ll do that, one of these days.”

  15

  June 20, 1987

  “Welcome! Welcome! Please come in!”

  The minute the Kanos pushed open the door of the real estate office, which occupied a prime location not far from Shibuya Station, the five or six workers inside erupted in a chorus of robotic greetings.