Secret Keeping Sakura – Chapter 4

SAKURA

“I don’t get it,” Mieko says, sitting at my roots, her back pressed against my trunk. The sun is setting, the warm tones of the clouds casting a salmon pink glow over the whole yard. The neighbors are inside having dinner, their windows cracked and the smells of rice cooking float over us. Mieko doesn’t even twitch. She must be hungry. She’s been gone all day.

“What don’t you get?” I prompt her, hoping she’ll come out of this zombie state and talk.

“I called home all the time. Mom would say she wasn’t very busy. ‘Oh, Mieko,’ she said —” Mieko’s voice changes to her mother’s higher tone “— ‘Everything here is the same as always. Just gardening and mahjong with the ladies. The usual things.’ Mostly, she wanted to hear me talk.”

Mieko smoothes out her sweatpants and pulls the cord of her hoodie tighter around her face.

“I’m not surprised. Your mother was a private person. I could see her coming up the block every day from work, a tired frown on her face, never showing the least bit of it to you as she walked in the house.” I wait to see if she’ll ask me about this, and I glance into the quiet house and wonder how long it’ll take Mieko to find her mother’s other secrets, the ones she wasn’t able to hide before the stroke took her.

Mieko’s breathing has slowed, and she sits silently, her head lolling against my trunk.

“Don’t fall asleep out here!” I call, and she jumps, her whole body lurching forward in a jerk of arms and legs. I laugh, though I shouldn’t. She’s tired and worn out.

“Thanks. I nodded off there for a moment.” She stands up and brushes the dirt from her pants, yawning in a full body shudder. The air has cooled off since she came out to sit with me, and the night sky has sucked away any semblance of warmth.

“Set your alarm for 6:00. I know it’s early but you should head to the wharf tomorrow morning.”

“Down to the docks? Chie-san at the ramen shop mentioned Mom went there each morning. What did she do there?”

“I don’t know since I could never go with her. But she was there every day. She started each day by walking into town, grabbing coffee and doughnuts for the fishermen, and then helping them. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Mieko stares into space, her eyes focused way off in the distance. What is she thinking of?

“I don’t like sleeping in my mom’s bed,” she whispers, bringing her fingers to her lips as tears fall. “I’ve been sleeping on the floor or at the kotatsu.”

No wonder she’s been so tired. She’s aged five years in the past week, harsh dark circles dyed into the skin under her eyes, and her hair limp with fatigue.

“Mieko, darling.” I wait for her to acknowledge me. “Change the sheets and sleep in the bed. Your mother wouldn’t want you sleeping on the floor.”

“I know,” she wails, before clamping her hand down on her mouth and glancing towards the open windows of the next door neighbor. “I remember sleeping with her in that bed as a kid. It seems wrong to be in there without her.” Her voice comes through her fingers quiet and resigned. “You’re right, though. I’ll change the sheets and sleep there tonight. My body can’t take another night of pain.”

“Go,” I urge her. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we start again.”

“With coffee, doughnuts, and fish guts.” She shrugs her shoulders, and I keep my laugh to myself.

“An alluring combination, for sure.”