Free The Earthquake Bird by Susanna Jones Page B

Lily fuel for another round of questioning.
    “Anyway, I’m fine.”
    “Is it not a long-term thing, then?”
    “It might be but I just haven’t thought about it like that. I mean, we don’t discuss it because we already have what we want.”
    “I’d love to meet him.”
    Perhaps she should. Then I could show Teiji that I had friends, too. I was not so obsessed with him that I had to break into
     his apartment when he was out and rifle through his most personal possessions. That was just something that happened, a one-off,
     a whim. I told Lily none of this. I had a feeling that simply by lying there in the steam, running the thoughts through my
     mind, Lily might understand them. She leaned over and pressed my ankle between her fingers.
    “How does it feel?”
    “Fine. Just twinging a bit.”
    “You want to rest it this evening. Get a compress on it and put your feet up.”
    “Sounds good. Did you always want to be a nurse?”
    “Yes, always. I never thought of anything else.”
    “Now you work in a bar. Do you miss nursing?”
    “Strangely, no. But I still am a nurse and I’ll go back to it. I don’t stop feeling like a nurse just because I’m not working
     as one. You know, I am a nurse. It’s what I’ll always be.”
    “Looking after people, picking up the pieces.”
    “Yes.” She smiled and splashed water over her arms. “Don’t you feel that way about translating?”
    “The opposite. Even though I work as a translator, I don’t feel like one. I don’t think of myself as a translator. Perhaps
     because I don’t feel as if I speak two languages anymore. It’s like one big one with different aspects.”
    “The only Japanese I know is what you taught me. Do you speak English or Japanese with Teiji?”
    “Both. Either.”
    “Are you seeing him tonight?”
    “We didn’t talk about it. I’ll be too tired, anyway. I may go to see him at the noodle shop tomorrow, though. Yes, I think
     I’ll do that.”
    “You told me you’d teach me the words for different kinds of noodles.”
    “Did I?”
    I knew she was hinting but I hoped she’d take my own hint and give up. She didn’t.
    “I’ve hardly eaten any proper Japanese food. I usually go to McDonald’s. It’s not that I don’t want to try Japanese, it’s
     just that I don’t know what to ask for, or how to eat it. It would be useful to know.”
    I pulled myself out of the water and put my swollen ankle tentatively on the ground. It felt much better.
    “All right. If you want to come, I’ll be going at about twelve.”
    “Shall I come round to your apartment? If you tell me where it is—”
    “There’s no point. It’s at the other side of Tokyo from the noodle place. I’ll meet you at Takadanobaba station.”
    Lily stared at me, appalled that a word could be both so foreign and so long.
    “I’ll write it down for you,” I said, and went back into the building to find a towel.

5
    I crack my fingers, one by one. Kameyama is tired of waiting, leans back in his chair with a grunt. I don’t blame him. I can
     appreciate the annoyance I am causing. If only I would take some notice of him, he might make some progress in this case.
     But I’m not in the mood to talk, not yet. The thing is, I don’t know what happened that night. It’s a blur in my memory. I
     have to bring it back, remember a bit at a time, before I can tell him. Mr. Kameyama will have to be patient. Oguchi is now
     playing with the other trouser knee, rubbing it softly, picking the edge of the seam. His glance meets mine and he looks away.
     I think the horror of the crime that I may have committed is sinking in. I fix my eyes upon his. His face colors and he searches
     for a question with which to break the silence, which I will not answer.
    Kameyama speaks. “Fine. Let’s try another question.”
    Yes, let’s. Which question shall we try? What’s my favorite color? I don’t have one. Do I prefer cats or dogs? Cats, of course;
     I’m a Leo. How many