The Hole Page 10

  Oghi memorized it. He repeated it to himself so as to not forget. TasuketekudasaiTasuketekudasaiTasuketekudasaiTasuketekudasaiTasuketekudasaiTasuketekudasai.

  The ambulance came in the afternoon. With the orderly’s help, Oghi lay on the stretcher and was loaded into the back. His mother-in-law came with him. She climbed into the ambulance and sat on the narrow bench next to the orderly, occasionally reaching over to brush Oghi’s sweaty hair out of his eyes.

  As soon as they were in the hospital, he felt relieved. He felt he was in a safe place. He greeted the nurses who’d looked after him when he was first hospitalized. They told him he looked much better. They asked if he liked being back home. His mother-in-law smiled and looked back and forth between him and the nurses. He gave them a slow blink.

  As the long, boring checkup went on and on, Oghi soon grew tired. His mother-in-law never left his side, despite looking just as tired and worn-out as him. Each time he was moved to a different examination room, she trailed along after the gurney and sat in a chair in the waiting area where she closed her sleepy-looking eyes while he was being examined, only to get up and follow him again to the next room, the heels of her shoes scuffing the floor behind her.

  While watching her trail after the gurney, her shoulders sagging, Oghi realized that his mother-in-law had aged greatly. Seeing her in the hospital like this, she wasn’t dignified and elegant, nor was she rough and mean. She simply looked like an old woman tired of everything.

  His mother-in-law had maintained her youth even after his father-in-law’s sudden passing three years earlier due to arrhythmia, but after his wife’s death, she seemed to instantly lose her tight grip on life. Before, from certain angles, she could have passed as being in her fifties, but now, with the loss of her daughter, she’d lost her looks too. Liver spots had cropped up along the contours of her face and her white hairs had multiplied, making her hair look ashen, as she never bothered to dye it. Up until then she’d always dressed in chicly monochromatic outfits, but now she wore loose, comfortable, garishly colored clothing.

  Oghi thought about how genuinely happy his mother-in-law had been when he was made full professor. Aside from his wife, no one else had congratulated him more. He received almost no congratulations from his colleagues, so when he saw how happy his mother-in-law was, it’d made him realize that they truly were family. After he and his wife married, the words orphan and inferiority complex never came out of his mother-in-law’s mouth again. Instead she told his wife that it “worked out well” for her that Oghi had no close living relatives. When his wife grew depressed from her continued failure to get pregnant, his mother-in-law comforted and reassured Oghi more than her.

  His mother-in-law was the only family Oghi had left. And it finally hit him that it was the same for her too. They were each other’s sole surviving family members. Of course, had his wife lived, their relationship might have become a non-familial one. That very nearly happened. But not anymore. Oghi and his mother-in-law had lost that chance, and now they were stuck with each other.

  Oghi and his mother-in-law were learning the sides of each other that only family would see. His mother-in-law had screamed in front of him and thrown out his live-in caregiver. She had brought in a whole pack of people from some unsavory religious organization and bowed and scraped and showered them with offerings. She muttered to herself constantly in Japanese. Oghi was no better. She had to look after him. She had to wipe his crotch and sprinkle it with baby powder so he wouldn’t get a rash. Empty his catheter bottles and wash his bedpan when it was full. Only now that his wife was dead had he and his mother-in-law become true family.

  The doctor pointed to the results of the CT scan on the computer and told Oghi that his prognosis was good. If he worked hard at rehabilitation, he would be able to use a wheelchair someday. Oghi wasn’t thrilled. What that really meant was that no matter how much better Oghi got, he would still never walk again.

  His mother-in-law cautiously asked if that meant he was recovering. In a flat voice, the doctor said it was difficult to be optimistic about his lower body, but there were clear indications that the muscles and nerves in his upper body were improving. He joked that soon Oghi would be able to scratch his leg with his right hand.

  “This is all thanks to you, ma’am. Isn’t that right, Oghi?”

  Oghi stared up at the ceiling in response. His mother-in-law stared vacantly at the doctor. She did not look at Oghi. He’d gotten a clear look at her face right when she heard the doctor say that his prognosis was good. She’d looked terrified. He’d never seen her look that way before. She looked frightened and anxious. Like she was asking herself whether she’d really helped Oghi to get better, whether the son-in-law who’d survived while her daughter died should really get to keep living, whether he really would continue to get better, whether that really was thanks to her. It seemed he would be seeing that look on her face often. That look of fear that Oghi might get better. That look of hope that he would not.

  Oghi mouthed the word paper at the nurse. The nurse didn’t understand. He had to mime writing with his left hand before she finally got it and brought him pen and paper.

  The doctor and the nurse did not rush Oghi but waited as he wrote something down. With his violently trembling left hand, Oghi was barely able to scribble a handful of letters.

  “Does that say, surgery sooner?”

  Oghi blinked.

  “Why, that’s fantastic, Oghi. You must keep writing. That’s the only way your left hand will get stronger. You’ll build muscle,” the doctor said in encouragement. “After your next surgery, you’ll be in much better shape. You’ll even be able to talk slowly.”

  That was what Oghi was hoping for. Being able to talk. Not blinking his eyes but really communicating. Right now, Oghi wanted that more than walking.

  “That too will take practice. You’ll have to relearn everything. It’s like being born all over again. Babies take a long time learning how to talk, and they’re awkward at first, right? But eventually you’ll get better. Naturally you will. Keep up the writing practice. Your right hand will get better too, but you have to keep using the side that’s already recovered motor function in order to adjust. Understand?”

  The doctor instructed Oghi’s mother-in-law to give Oghi pen and paper so they could communicate. She nodded slowly, her face hard.

  “Now, let’s take a look at the schedule.”

  The doctor conferred with the nurse. It took them a while.

  Once he was able to talk, the first thing Oghi would do was hire a new caregiver. He would stop his mother-in-law from looking after him herself. He would ask a lawyer how to go about appointing a legal representative.

  The doctor’s calendar was full. The only way to accommodate Oghi was to switch his surgery date with another patient’s. It would take some doing, but he offered to perform Oghi’s surgery one day earlier.

  “Even if it’s only one day, would you still like to move it up?” the nurse asked.

  His mother-in-law stared at Oghi and said, “What do you think?” She looked tired. Her terrified expression from before, the one he would never forget, was gone now.

  His mother-in-law simply looked old. She looked exhausted and worn-out. If she hadn’t unexpectedly lost her daughter, she would have been able to take it easy, to grow old with dignity. Just as she’d said, she would make herself sick and waste away to nothing trying to care for her son-in-law. That’s how old she was.

  Fear washed over Oghi. When he looked at his mother-in-law’s tired face, he could not help but acknowledge that he was stuck. Even if he recovered enough to look after himself, he might only be switching places with his elderly mother-in-law. But he was more than willing to do just that.

  11

  BACK WHEN OGHI FIRST AWOKE in the hospital, he couldn’t bear the thought of visitors. He didn’t want anyone to witness his wreck of a face, the moans that only emerged from his throat with great effort, his petrified tree of a body. It
angered him to be in this plight while they weren’t. And yet, the idea that no one might come made him even more anxious. And so he saw every single person who came to visit. He saw the dean and the other professors from his department. He saw his old school friends and a whole crowd of colleagues. They all reminded Oghi of where he was supposed to be.

  After a little while, he didn’t have to think about it anymore because no one came to see him. It was only natural, but he still felt hurt. He sometimes pictured them receiving news of his death. He pictured those who would lament his passing even while feverishly calculating how they could claim his now vacant position for themselves. He wanted to get better quickly, if only to show them. Show them all. That Oghi with his petrified body still had something of his own while they did not.

  What were they doing here? M sailed through the door first, then S and K, followed by J. The whole flock. Oghi was shocked to see all four of them in his room. Right after Oghi awoke from his coma, they had come to visit separately, mixed in with other groups of visitors, but only once. None of them came to see Oghi a second time or called the hospital to ask a nurse how his recovery was coming along. Had one of them contacted the hospital or called the house and gotten permission to visit from his mother-in-law? Had his mother-in-law not said anything to Oghi because she wanted him to be surprised?

  He was glad to see them. He was happy to know that they still missed him and that even though they hadn’t seen one another in a long time, they hadn’t forgotten him. They made him believe that despite being confined to a bed and unable to move, he was still good for something. At the same time, the sight of their healthy selves, intact and energetic, took the wind out of him. He wasn’t crazy about having to see them face-to-face. In fact, he wished they would all leave right now. It was a shame they had to see him like this, no more recovered than before.

  Back when M had visited him in the hospital, he’d held Oghi’s left hand for a long time. S and J had put up a good front at first, but when they found out he couldn’t speak, they’d sniffled like babies. K had struggled to stay cool and hide his expression. They had all done their best to avoid looking at Oghi.

  “He says he’s been waiting forever. What took you so long? He missed you all.”

  His mother-in-law was putting words in Oghi’s mouth. Oghi hadn’t said a thing. He was conscious of the prosthesis holding his jaw in place. If he opened his mouth carelessly, a long thread of drool would spill out.

  The four of them stood in a row at Oghi’s side. He was nervous. He felt no different from when he was surrounded by the black-garbed people who’d come to pray. They were there for him, but he couldn’t help feeling like he’d become a laughingstock.

  All Oghi did was blink, but his mother-in-law invented words for him as she pretended to interpret. She asked them how things were at the university and said things like, It’s the middle of the semester, isn’t this a busy time for you? After a few clipped questions and answers, she abruptly changed the subject and said, “Don’t just stand there like you’re going to run off at any second, here, have a seat,” and offered them folding chairs. This time, at least, her translation wasn’t far off the mark, and so Oghi blinked.

  His mother-in-law’s appearance was sloppier than usual. She’d been wearing his wife’s clothes while staying at his house, but today her outfit was especially wrinkled and there was a large stain on the front of her shirt. His mother-in-law was fleshier than his wife, so the sleeves were too short, and each time she bent over, the thick rolls of fat at her waist bulged out.

  “He wants to know if you had any trouble finding the house.”

  M replied that they had been there before.

  “Ah, that’s right,” she muttered, staring at Oghi. “You have.”

  That reminded him that they were the same guests who’d come to his last barbecue long ago.

  His mother-in-law apologized, saying she should offer them something to eat but with the house in such awful shape she’d had no time to prepare anything. The four waved their hands and said of course that wasn’t necessary.

  “If you’ve been to the house before, then that must mean you had a barbecue out in the yard. With drinks.”

  “Oghi did all the barbecuing,” S said.

  “Any idiot can work a grill.” His mother-in-law’s voice turned sharp.

  “But not everyone can do what you do,” M said, sounding overly cheerful as he tried to ease the sudden tension in the room. “Taking care of Oghi all on your own. You’re amazing.”

  K and S rushed to flatter her too. They told her how young she looked and how pretty she was.

  “But you’re not Oghi’s mother, you’re his mother-in-law, right?” J asked.

  Oghi’s mother-in-law stared at her. M and K laid it on thicker and said, “That makes you even more amazing!” She let out a loud laugh.

  “Mother, mother-in-law, what’s the difference? It’s all the same to him. After all, I’m all he’s got. Isn’t that right?”

  Oghi avoided her eyes. She paid no mind and kept going.

  “Truth is, he and I are in the same position. I’m a widow, he’s a widower. Misery does love company.”

  The four of them smiled awkwardly and didn’t respond. They seemed unsure as to whether she was joking or not.

  “Widows and widowers aren’t just to be pitied. Once you experience it, you find it has its good sides. Do you know what the best part of being a widow is?”

  She looked around at them. Even S, who normally had so much to say, was keeping his mouth shut and trying to read her mood.

  “Your husband can’t cheat on you anymore. A dead husband is so much better than a cheating husband.”

  She let out another loud laugh and stared at Oghi. She was clearly enjoying herself. Oghi frowned. His skin was so scarred that the frown probably didn’t show very well, but he did his best. He wanted the four of them to know that he did not agree with her.

  “So, do you know what the best part of being a widower is?”

  The four of them stayed silent this time as well. His mother-in-law said to Oghi, “It’d be better if you could tell this one,” and then answered her own question.

  “You can fuck whoever you want and it’s not cheating.”

  She burst out laughing again. She laughed so hard that she had to wipe away her tears. The four visitors acted as if they hadn’t heard her.

  “Oh, but where are my manners,” she said, as she struggled to stop laughing. “I haven’t given you anything to eat or drink.”

  “Oh no, please don’t go to any trouble on our account.”

  “It’d be nice to have a barbecue today, but as you can see, the garden is a mess.”

  “It looks like you’re planting something,” S said.

  “I have to. Because it’s dead. Dead and gone. All of it… Raised with so much love and care, only to die for no reason.” She paused before continuing. “I have to bring it back to life. I have to. I have to save it.”

  “You’re planting a tree?”

  “Trees? Yes, I should plant some.”

  “You must be planting a big tree. That hole is enormous.”

  “I have a long way to go. I have to keep digging.”

  “It must be a really huge tree then.”

  “It’s not a tree. It’s a pond.”

  “A pond? In the front yard?”

  “So I can release something living into it. Fill it with something alive, something that breathes and swims and flicks its tail at everything that catches its eye.”

  “Are you talking about a koi pond? That sounds wonderful.”

  “Are living things wonderful? They’re filthy and disgusting. They’ll scrabble like crazy to try to survive inside that cramped hole…”

  Her sharp response made S stop asking questions. Oghi blinked at him. He was trying to tell him to knock it off, but S turned away and pretended not to notice. He didn’t ask what Oghi was trying to say either. He acted like Oghi wasn’t even th
ere.

  “Even in a dead end place like that, they still cling to life.”

  K tried to take over from S.

  “Aren’t ponds usually placed at the edge of a yard?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It has to get a lot of sun. And good airflow. That’s why the pond is where it is.”

  K stopped talking as well. He seemed to realize it was better to keep quiet.

  “I’ll bring you all some juice.”

  “That’s okay, we just came to see Oghi.” M tried to dissuade her.

  “Oghi says I absolutely must give you something to drink. Isn’t that right? That’s what you’re telling me, isn’t it? He says he wants you to enjoy yourselves while you’re here.”

  She rushed out of the room. They heard rattling and slamming coming from the kitchen, and what sounded like glass or porcelain being pulled from the cupboards.

  The four of them glanced at one another, identically ill at ease, but no one spoke. His mother-in-law quickly returned carrying a large tray. On the tray was a bottle of whiskey and four glasses.

  “My, oh my, I’ve been so behind on my housekeeping that this is all we have. I didn’t realize we’d run out of juice. I’m so sorry about that. And I can’t just serve you plain water. You’ll have to have this instead. Here, I’ll pour you each a glass.”

  M awkwardly took the glass of whiskey Oghi’s mother-in-law offered him. He looked like he thought he had no choice but to go along with it. The others followed suit.

  The whiskey was cheap. No matter how much alcohol the caregiver’s son had drunk, there had to have been plenty of good stuff left still, but his mother-in-law seemed to have deliberately chosen the cheapest bottle. There was no way that Oghi had bought it for himself; it was probably a gift from a student who didn’t know good whiskey from bad.

  The four of them each accepted a large tumbler sloshing with whiskey. At his mother-in-law’s urging, they even raised a reluctant toast. Fancying herself his interpreter, each time they gave her an awkward look, she emphasized that this was what Oghi wanted.