This Is Not a Tragedy

11 | Dressed in Black

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

In the morning, I call my homeroom teacher to tell her what's happened. "My mother has... passed, so I'll be missing school for a while."

"Oh my! I'm so sorry to hear that," she replies somberly. "Do you have someone with you?" She sounds legitimately concerned.

"Uh, they made someone from the police station stay."

"Oh, I see..."

There's an awkward silence. "Well, then. Goodbye." I hang up the phone without listening to her response. I guess I should start arranging... the funeral. No need for a wake; there's no one to come, after all. Did she leave enough money to pay for it? I recall the monthly income that we get from some mysterious person. Do they know what's happened?

As I'm thinking, Minase comes into the hallway with his cell phone to his ear. "Katana-san, they say there's someone coming for you."

"Pardon?" Coming for me?

"It came from the higher-ups, and they didn't give us any details. We were just told to wait until they arrive, which should be sometime today."

"Okay," I mutter. Is it my father? It's possible he wants to catch me off guard by not letting me know it's him. How did he know what happened? Or is it our mysterious benefactor? Either way, the question is the same.

It's late afternoon when the doorbell rings.

"Could that be them?" Minase asks where he sits watching TV.

I put down my book, stand from the sofa, and go to the genkan.

Pausing at the door, I think, what if it actually is my father? Can I handle seeing him? Well, no matter who it is, it's not like I can just leave them out there. When I open the door (albeit slowly), I'm surprised by the sight. The guest is a white guy with dirty blonde hair slicked to the side and a light beard. Slung on his shoulder is a duffle bag.

His blue eyes are wide. "Chip off the old block," he mutters in what's maybe a British accent, looking at me in wonder.

Chip?... Blocks?... Huh? I don't know what it means. "Who-" I start in Japanese before catching myself and switching to English, "Who are you?"

"Sergius. I'm a friend of your parents'," the man says, British accent more discernible as he holds out his hand to shake. I glance at it, not moving my own from the door. He lowers his arm, and his smile fades. "Mina..." he says my mother's name, "contacted me. She told me to take care of you. So, that's what I'm here to do."

"And... my father?" I want to know, but I don't want to know.

The man's eyes turn sad. Is he dead? "He couldn't make it."

First, I'm unable to process the information I've been given. I don't understand what the stranger means. She's dead and somehow he "can't" come? I'm furious, but all I can do is stare dumbly at the man. It's then that I realize I've been clenching the doorknob. I release it and look at my red palm. Ah, I'm just letting him stand there. I take a deep breath to calm myself and step to the side, allowing the man to come in. It would have been better if he was dead. "Sorry, what did you say your name was again?"

"Sergius."

"Ah. Thanks for coming," I say politely, surprised to see him taking off his shoes without being told.

Minase stands in the hallway with big eyes. "Uh... Herro!" He starts to bow but then waves.

Sergius bows and greets, "Konnichi wa."

Minase fidgets. "Um... I don't know English," he tells me.

"It's-" I cut myself off and shake my head a bit as I try to get my mind in order. Right, Japanese. I switch languages as I tell Minase, "It's okay. I'll translate." I then introduce them to each other.