Espresso Love (A Dystopian Japan Novel) #Wattys2014

Double Entendre

- Double Entendre -

"What are you doing here? How did you get here?" It took me a while to recognize her, her face has been weathered by age.

She says nothing and looks at me blankly, as if drinking in the sight of her son.

"Nao-kun," she says again.

I close my eyes for a minute and when I open them, for a second I think I see Shizuka. I blink and rub my head. Outside the paper thin walls, there's still silence.

"Would you like some tea?" I keep my voice as steady as possible. It comes out almost as a whisper.

She nods slowly, mechanically. She has her hair dyed chestnut, tied up into a ponytail with a yellow hairband, but I can still see the greying strands. Wrinkles adorn her forehead. Like battle scars, as much as she had used anti-aging cosmetics and make up. The make up around her eyes is a little too dark, making the whites of her eyes glow. It's the image of a woman well past her prime but fighting to deny the truth. I feel some sort of sympathy for her. So I boil the water and make the tea in silence.

I place the steaming cup in front of her. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Not too long."

"Who brought you here?"

"A man who said he knows where my son is."

"Which man?"

"Tall guy. He was wearing a suit and a tie, like a corporate executive. He was holding a folder."

Very descriptive. I wear a blank face and watch as she inhales the washed out aroma of an old Itoen teabag.

"How have you been, Nao-kun?"

It takes me a while to respond. If I'm to ask myself how my last few months have been, I would find myself at a loss for words. I can feel the tails of half burrowed memories and half baked emotions swish in the air. They are but hints and remnants of something distant now, but if I grab hold of these tails, the entire root, a wet wriggling mess might be unearthed and cause havoc as they clash and struggle for dominance.

"I've been well. As you can see."

She looks dubious but nods. "This is a nice place in the woods."

"It's quiet and solitary, but I've gotten to enjoy it." I then realize I have no inclination towards finding out the way in or out, or where exactly we are located, relative to urbanized civilization. I'm content with staying here.

"Yes it's peaceful and safe. I would wish to stay here forever too if I were you. Maybe with your father's kimchi."

"He makes excellent kimchi." I parrot her words from what seems like a lifetime ago.

"He does. Too bad he passed away when you were young."

She sips from her tea.

"Do you remember that one time when we went to the flower farm - you must have been six - and you told me you wanted to pick all the flowers there so we could give your father one each day?"

"How can I remember that?"

She looks sad. "Yes, I'm sorry." But she continues, "but I told you the flowers too are alive, so it wouldn't be nice." She says all this with a blank face. "Then you said you would grow a flower farm around the grave instead. Of course, back then, you didn't know what death truly meant."

I grip the edge of the table. "Let's cut to the chase, I'm sure you're not here to reminisce with me - why did you want to see me?"

She looks up. Traces a finger around the rim of the cup. I watch her. "I heard you were in trouble."