Page 49 of Daikon

TWENTY-SEVEN

THE FREIGHT TRAIN SLOWED TO a crawl as it approached the town of Matsudo, the rail yard visible around the curve in the tracks up ahead.

The bearded stranger with the bag full of watches eased himself off the roof of the boxcar where they were riding and climbed down the ladder affixed to the side.

It would be dangerous, he said, to stay on the train any longer.

As it neared Tokyo there would be more guards at the stations.

Noriko Kan warily followed him off the roof and onto the ladder. She had known this man for scarcely two hours, ever since he had beckoned to her to join him on the passing freight train and save herself a long walk.

“Make sure you hit the ground running,” he said before letting go. He landed expertly, his legs pumping, then slowed to a walk.

The thought flashed through Noriko’s mind that she should stay on the train and leave him behind.

He was likely a draft dodger or a deserter, for he was a perfect specimen for military conscription, healthy and well-built and no more than thirty under the scraggly beard hiding his face.

He called himself Ogawa, no doubt a false name, a traveling repairman of watches and clocks.

It was a lucrative trade, he said, since new timepieces were no longer available on the market and even broken ones were worth a good deal.

He had dozens of watches in his old army rucksack that he intended to barter for land in Tokyo, which was going for cheap.

“You don’t have any land in Tokyo for sale, do you?

” he had teased, grinning at her beggarly appearance. “I’ll buy it!”

The freight train continued on into Matsudo, leaving Ogawa behind.

Why had the man even been riding on a freight train?

If he had the wherewithal to buy land, he could afford a train ticket.

This suggested that there was something criminal about him.

On the other hand, he had been generous in sharing his food.

“Come on!” Ogawa called out after her. “They’ll be patrolling the yards!”

Noriko looked ahead at where the tracks split into sidings and this time saw that there was indeed someone up there—a station guard or just a person walking along, she couldn’t tell.

If it was a guard and she was caught, she would be doubly in trouble, first for illegally riding a train, second for having no papers.

She jumped off the train, landed awkwardly on the siding, and fell. Ogawa jogged up and helped her to her feet.

“Are you all right?”

Noriko gingerly examined her scraped elbow and tested her ankle. “Yes, I think so.”

They found her shoe in the undergrowth and started walking, veering away from the train tracks to follow a road heading southwest. Ueno Station was no more than twenty kilometers farther along.

Noriko decided that she would walk the rest of the way, that she would take no more chances with trains, regardless of what Ogawa might do.

If her strength held out, she would reach the Riken by late afternoon.

“You mentioned Hiroshima and Nagasaki,” she ventured, returning to something Ogawa had said in his disjointed monologue before they jumped off the train.

“That’s why I’m going to Tokyo. Like I told you. Now is the time to buy land, before it all ends.”

“But… what happened?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “You haven’t heard? Everyone’s been talking about it.”

Noriko shook her head.

“Well, I hope you don’t have family there,” Ogawa airily said. He stopped himself, turning serious. “You don’t have family in Hiroshima or Nagasaki, do you?”

“No.”

“Good. Because they aren’t there anymore. The Americans wiped them out with only one bomb. Genji bakudan. Genso bakudan…”

Noriko felt a stab of recognition.

“Genshi bakudan?”

Ogawa snapped his fingers. “Genshi bakudan. That’s it! So you have heard. One bomb to wipe out a whole city. As powerful as all the bombs in two thousand B-29s. Even the great Imperial Army can’t stand up to that. They’re finished. The bastards are done.”

His sarcasm and open sedition shocked Noriko almost as much as the news that the Americans had used atomic bombs, a weapon that her husband, Keizo, had privately assured her would take many years to develop. She looked around, fearful that someone might have overheard.

“That’s why I need to get to Tokyo,” Ogawa continued, oblivious. “Everyone thinks it’s going to be next, so now is the time to buy up property cheap. I bet I can get two thousand tsubo of land with these watches.”

He gave her a sidelong look, an appraising look. “You can come with me. A little more weight and some new clothes and you’d look all right. It’s been lonely for me, you know. On the road.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Noriko murmured, resolved to part ways with this man. She thought for a while about how best to do it, then started putting a slight hitch in her step.

Ogawa didn’t notice. They were on the other side of Matsudo now, having bypassed the rail yard, and were veering back toward the train line. The trestle bridge over the Edogawa River was visible up ahead.

Noriko affected a more pronounced limp and started groaning a little.

“What’s the matter?” Ogawa asked.

“I must have twisted my ankle jumping off the train.”

He took her by the arm. “Let’s go on a little farther. Then we can rest.”

They pressed on, Noriko working hard to maintain her limp.

They crossed the bridge over the Edogawa, looking down at the sluggish water as they walked on the ties.

There was a town on the other side, one of the dozens of outlying communities ringing Tokyo.

They passed a weaving factory, a paper mill, a chemical plant on the right side of the tracks. All closed.

“You see?” said Ogawa, pointing ahead to another bridge over the next river. “There’s the Nakagawa already.”

“I’d like to rest for a moment,” Noriko said.

Ogawa gripped her arm more firmly. “Let’s get across first.”

They crossed the steel bridge over the Nakagawa and entered the town on the other side.

There were signs of bomb damage here, a factory with its smokestack knocked down and one side caved in and the blackened squares where blocks of wooden houses had stood.

Then, as they crested a rise, the vista of Tokyo came into view, a seemingly endless plain of destruction disappearing in the haze far to the west.

“Aaah,” said Ogawa, letting out an exclamation as he stopped to take it all in. He momentarily forgot about Noriko and let go of her arm. She thought about running but knew that would be useless. He was stronger and faster than she was.

She moved to the side of the road and sat down.

“We’re almost there,” said Ogawa.

“I’m sorry,” said Noriko. “I need to rest.”

A look of irritation clouded Ogawa’s face. He started looking around. “All right. Let’s go over there under those trees.”

He took her by the arm and led her toward a grove that had escaped the ax and the saw, a secluded spot. Noriko was afraid now. She no longer had any doubt about his intentions.

They sat down under the branches, out of sight of the road and the scattering of houses along it. Ogawa opened his knapsack and produced two more balls of millet and rice, one for Noriko and one for himself.

“Thank you,” she said.

He took out a little packet of salt and seasoned the ball in Noriko’s hand.

“Thank you,” she said again.

Ogawa began greedily eating. Noriko was looking around. She noted a broken tree branch a few steps away.

“Go ahead,” said Ogawa, taking another bite. “Eat. It’s for you.”

Noriko forced herself to nibble. She was hungry, but her nerves had closed up her stomach.

Ogawa had finished now and was starting to watch her, a different kind of greed in his eyes.

His hand crept over. He started stroking Noriko’s leg. She pulled back.

“So coy,” he said, grinning. He moved closer and became more aggressive.

Noriko finished her meal with Ogawa tugging at her trousers. She knew what she had to do now.

“Don’t tear them,” she said.

“Well, then help me a little.”

Mustering all her courage, she gave him a lascivious smile. “Close your eyes.”

Ogawa, excited by this, eagerly closed his eyes.

“Now turn around.”

Ogawa turned.

Noriko picked up a fist-sized rock she had spotted. She raised it, hesitated for only a moment, then brought it down on Ogawa’s skull.

He let out an animal yelp and his whole body went stiff. He lurched up and wheeled about, his eyes wide.

“Why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry,” said Noriko. She reared back again with the rock and smashed it down on Ogawa’s forehead, dropping him to the ground.

She stood over him, shocked, looking down at his body. Had she killed him? It certainly looked like it, seeing blood oozing from his scalp. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

She looked at the stone in her hand, a bloody scrap of Ogawa’s skin and hair adhering to it.

She cast it away. Her first instinct was to run, but she didn’t. She looked around, suddenly fearful that she might have been seen. No one seemed to be about. No one was watching.

Suddenly Ogawa came back to life, drawing in a long, ragged gasp.

Noriko started backing away.

Ogawa was drawing himself up onto his hands and knees now, his head hanging down.

His back arched. He vomited up his meal.

Noriko turned and ran.

She didn’t go far. The thought of Ogawa coming up behind her drove her into hiding a few hundred meters farther down the tracks, peeking out from behind the crumbling remains of an abandoned house.

Finally, just as she was about to give up, she saw him passing, rucksack on his back with his hoard of watches.

He was walking slowly and kept raising his hand to his head.

Noriko felt a flood of relief that she hadn’t killed him—relief mixed with remorse, for he didn’t look at all like a threat now, only a pathetic, stoop-shouldered figure stumbling along, someone who had given her food.