Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [79]
“Look, this isn’t something you can understand right now. Maybe when you’re older, when you’ve lived through some of the things I have. Maybe then you’ll understand. Though I’m not sure understanding will make you happy.”
Wataru was getting lost in a maze that grew more and more complicated with every word said. His father’s explanations always made so much sense. Even when things seemed tangled beyond belief, his father would untangle them, and lay them out flat for all to see.
But this time it was exactly the opposite. Things were simple. Dad left Mom, he left me—he left our house. He wants to marry another woman. It’s that simple. So why does the explanation seem so complicated?
Akira reached out a hand and lightly held Wataru’s shoulder. Rocking him slowly back and forth, he spoke. “There’s one thing I want you to remember. No matter what mistakes your mother and I have made, no matter what our failures, it has nothing to do with you. You are your own person. Haven’t I always told you that? A child has his own personality; he’s not just an attachment to his parents. Even if our marriage has failed, it doesn’t mean you’re a failure. That’s the truth. Never forget it.”
Akira’s brow furrowed. “If you lift your head and look our marriage in the face, you will see it for what it is. Failures are failures. Ours was a mistake from the very beginning. We were just kidding ourselves the whole time.”
Mom always kept the house clean. She always made dinner. She hardly ever slept late. She fought with Grandma sometimes, but they always made up afterward.
“Mom hasn’t done anything bad. She didn’t make a mistake,” Wataru muttered. Then he noticed that amazingly, incredibly, his father’s calm demeanor had faded and was replaced by a look of outright irritation. When he spoke the words came in a rush, like he was trying to push something back down in its place by sheer force.
“Failure doesn’t mean anyone did anything bad. Sometimes people fail even when they only do good things. Or they do what they think is good. Only with hindsight can anyone understand the failures they experience.”
The lady on the next bench over had stopped licking her ice cream to stare at them. She was oblivious to the melting rivulet of vanilla coursing off the edge of her cone and staining her skirt.
The old man grunted and nudged her with his elbow. “You’re dripping.”
Flustered, the woman brushed at her skirt. Wataru watched the scene unfold blankly. You can hear what we’re saying, can’t you? Do you understand? Could you translate for me? What is my father trying to say?
“I don’t understand,” Wataru said meekly, to which Akira nodded.
“I didn’t think you would. You don’t have to. This was my mistake…and I think meeting you today was a mistake too. I can’t explain it so you’ll understand, I’m just hurting you. See? That’s what I mean.”
“That’s what I mean” was his father’s code for “this conversation is over.” How many times had his questions about everything under the sun been answered, tips been given, advice handed out with those words.
A sigh came out unbidden. He felt like he had been holding his breath this whole time. Like he had swum the length of an Olympic-size pool underwater and only just now reached the edge, his lungs burning.
He breathed, and the reality of it hit him. Then, just like that, the thing he had been thinking from the very beginning came welling up and popped out of his mouth. “So basically, you just like this other woman more than Mom. That’s what this is all about, right?”
His father did not answer. Brow furrowed, he tapped his glasses with a finger and looked down at the ground.
Spray from the fountain fell lightly on Wataru’s forehead.
“If that’s what you want to think, fine. Think that,” Akira said. He stood up to leave. “I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”
“No, that’s okay. I want to stay here awhile.”
“Don’t sulk, Wataru.”
“I’m not sulking. I just want to go to the library.”
“I can’t leave you here alone after all we’ve talked about.”
“I’m fine. I can make it home myself.”
Just go home, Dad. I’ll be