The Maid

  ALMA BOOKS LTD

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  First published by Alma Books Ltd in 2010

  Kazoku Hakkei (The Maid) by Yasutaka Tsutsui

  Copyright © 1972 Yasutaka Tsutsui

  Original Japanese edition published by Shinchosha Publishing Co., Ltd.

  English translation rights arranged with Yasutaka Tsutsui through Andrew Nurnberg Associates Ltd. / Japan Foreign-Rights Centre.

  English translation © 1990 Kodansha International Ltd

  All rights reserved.

  Reprinted 2011

  Yasutaka Tsutsui asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Printed in Great Britain by CPI Antony Rowe

  ISBN: 978-1-84688-099-5

  eISBN: 978-1-84688-254-8

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be resold, lent, hired out or otherwise circulated without the express prior consent of the publisher.

  CONTENTS

  1. The Plain of Emptiness

  2. Prisoners of Dirt

  3. In Quest of Youth

  4. The Peach

  5. The Saint in the Flames of Hell

  6. The Grass Is Greener

  7. The Sunday Painter

  8. Dear Departed Mother

  THE MAID

  1

  The Plain of Emptiness

  Red flowers were blooming in the front yard, but Nanase had no idea what they were: the names of the flowers did not interest her.

  The Ogata residence was a bright, middle-class home with a large veranda. Nanase rang the doorbell, then waited on the porch. The neighbourhood was silent except for the distant whistles of suburban trains.

  Sakiko Ogata opened the door. She was in her forties but her drab kimono made her seem much older.

  “Please come in.”

  Nanase introduced herself, and Sakiko seemed to relax, smiling as she showed her into the living room. Nanase noted that every piece of furniture was new. Apparently it was a policy of the household to redecorate the house constantly with cheap new furnishings.

  After reading Nanase’s reference, Sakiko looked up at the girl and smiled again. “Mrs Akiyama writes very highly of you.”

  Nanase nodded slightly. She knew what the reference said without having to read it.

  When Nanase applied for a new job, the mistress of the household would usually enquire into why Nanase had left her former workplace, trying to determine indirectly whether she had gone of her own free will or if she had been dismissed. Although Nanase had expected the same from Sakiko, Sakiko didn’t ask a thing.

  Nor did Sakiko show the house to the new maid, another common practice. She simply sat facing her, looking bored and distracted.

  Nanase read Sakiko’s mind. But all she could find were odds and ends of consciousness.

  The bathroom tiles are starting to chip. For tonight’s dinner, I’ll make stir-fried beef and green peppers with a miso sauce. There are problems with the TV’s vertical tuning, and the lock on the shed is broken. I’ll have to tell Nanase that the rice cooker isn’t working, but the store will be delivering a new one tomorrow.

  Sakiko’s thoughts did not extend beyond such household matters. It was debatable whether these could even be called thoughts. They were simply insignificant notions tumbling about on the plain of an empty consciousness.

  Was Sakiko running away from something? Nanase had encountered this type of consciousness any number of times. It was especially common among weak, middle-aged, middle-class women who were used to being ignored and who – even while fully aware that they were despised – blocked it out of their minds.

  Sakiko glanced at Nanase’s suitcase, thought about how heavy it looked, imagined how tired she must be after lugging it up the hill, and then finally hit upon the idea of offering her tea.

  “Let’s have a cup of tea in the kitchen,” she said.

  Sakiko stood up and smiled once more at Nanase. Her smile was without meaning. But what surprised Nanase was that there wasn’t even an unconscious expression of warmth.

  Nanase could not recall when she first realized she had the power to read people’s minds. But not once during her eighteen years had she ever thought that it was a particularly unusual ability. She even felt that there must be a lot of people with this power, her logic being that anyone who could do this would keep it secret, as she herself had done.

  For her, mind-reading was neither a plus nor a minus. She thought of it as another sense, like hearing or sight. It differed slightly from the other senses only in that it required a bit of effort to use. Nanase referred to this as “unlatching”, setting it apart from other mental functions. And she was very careful to keep this “latch” fastened when she wasn’t using it. She had learnt from this experience that if she left the latch open, other people’s thoughts would come flooding in non-stop, leaving her unable to distinguish between what was spoken and what was thought – an extremely dangerous situation in which she might inadvertently reveal her powers.

  That day, as Sakiko was explaining various things to her, Nanase occasionally undid the latch and peered into Sakiko’s mind. But each time, all she saw was careworn everyday concerns strewn over a barren wasteland. She couldn’t even make out what feelings Sakiko had towards the members of her family.

  Hisakuni Ogata, the head of the household, managed the general-affairs division of a shipbuilding company. There were two children: Eiko, who was a senior at a women’s university, and Junichi, who had just started college this year. Eiko was beautiful; Junichi was pale and slender. Both inherited their father’s hedonistic tendencies. That was about all Nanase was able to learn from Sakiko. And most of this came from Sakiko’s own lips.

  The day drew to a close, but neither Hisakuni nor the children returned home. This seemed to be a common occurrence, as Sakiko was unperturbed.

  After a simple dinner, Sakiko made no more attempts at conversing with Nanase. She simply looked absently at the living-room TV. She wasn’t watching it, merely staring at it.

  Hisakuni returned shortly after eleven.

  Nanase was tired, but she’d stayed awake so she could introduce herself to her new employer.

  “Are the children back yet?” Hisakuni asked his wife as he entered the living room. Nanase tried to greet him, but he ignored her presence.

  “No, not yet,” replied Sakiko, who introduced Nanase with her usual smile.

  “How do you do.” Nanase bowed and undid the latch.

  Hisakuni gave Nanase a quick glance, and greeted her with a perfunctory nod, all the time comparing her to the bevy of nightclub hostesses whose company he’d just been enjoying. He seemed to have powers of observation befitting his position as a general-affairs manager.

  “Would you like something to drink?” asked Sakiko.

  Hisakuni looked at the wall clock. “A cup of tea.”

  He didn’t want any tea. He was concerned about Eiko, although he would never admit this, even to himself. He had convinced himself that he had long ago given up
on his delinquent daughter, but he had stopped thinking about her only on the surface of his consciousness. Once he heard her excuse for coming home late, he could set his mind at rest. He knew that it would be a lie, but he still wanted to hear it.

  Nanase realized this had nothing to do with paternal affection. It was jealousy.

  Hisakuni thought of his wife as a domestic animal, hardly worthy of his attention. Almost ten years had passed since he last had sexual relations with her, which he’d only managed to do by recalling her youthful beauty. Now he didn’t even talk to her. Anything said out of pity would only make him despise her, which Sakiko also sensed. As her attitude frequently made clear to him, she preferred to be ignored rather than despised.

  The only things that really mattered to Hisakuni were his job and young women. And even his feelings about girls were grossly exaggerated as a way to arouse himself. All Nanase could see in his mind was emptiness.

  “So you’re eighteen?” he asked, before realizing he had spoken in the exact tone he’d used with club hostesses. “It’s great to be young,” he added hastily. “Great to be young.”

  Hisakuni was sleeping with a nightclub hostess who wasn’t much older than Nanase. Setsuko was her name. She had quite a figure.

  “How true,” responded Sakiko automatically, her eyes glued to the late-night TV show.

  Eiko came home drunk. A boyfriend had plied her with liquor, taken her to a motel, and then driven her home.

  She took one look at Nanase and thought that with the maid here she could get by without giving an excuse for coming home late. Then she reconsidered and decided to offer some brief explanation.

  “Yoshie didn’t come tonight. She could’ve given me a lift so I could have got back earlier. But I had to wait for Kitani to take me home. Even though he seemed to want to dance more, he went out of his way to drive me back.”

  “That’s nice.” Hisakuni smiled and nodded.

  “Kitani’s so good-natured,” Sakiko added.

  “I want some tea,” demanded Eiko, who then started making small talk with Nanase. “Your name is Nanase? Can I call you Nana then? You’re eighteen? You’re so lucky. I wish I could be eighteen again.”

  Eiko made no attempt to get the tea herself. Both she and her father seemed to think it was perfectly natural to have Sakiko make it for her. Sakiko herself didn’t mind taking orders from her daughter. Eiko detested Sakiko for her insipidness.

  While she was talking, Eiko was replaying, almost physically, the sexual scene she had just experienced with Kitani. By means of this “aftertaste”, she could indulge in her lust even while exchanging pleasantries. For Nanase, who still had no experience with men, the action going on inside Eiko’s head was extremely interesting.

  As she chattered on, Eiko’s excitement grew. Throwing caution to the wind, she started talking openly about her male friends.

  “…at which point Kitani deliberately stepped on Takada’s foot. Then Takada stopped giving me strange looks.”

  Eiko’s playfulness was gradually making Hisakuni suspicious. He was now convinced that his daughter had just come back from some immoral goings-on. She’s trying to pull the wool over my eyes, he thought, as he imagined Eiko and the college student Kitani, whom he had met only once, frolicking stark naked.

  Hisakuni’s version of Eiko’s events was extremely graphic. Nanase peered deeper into his mind.

  Hisakuni had superimposed the naked image of his daughter over that of the hostess Setsuko – not to suppress his anger, rather to excite himself. As his daughter chattered away, he continued smiling at her cheerfully.

  Eiko had noticed, with a girl’s intuition, that whenever she talked about her boyfriends, her father’s smile took on a hint of lewdness. She despised her father for trying to fan his passions through her. And she hated the crass way he entertained clients at expensive clubs every night so he could drink and party without having to pay for it. However, she had no idea that her father was sleeping with a hostess provided by one of his subcontractors.

  It surprised Nanase a bit that in spite of the arrival of herself, a stranger, this evening, the behaviour of the family seemed to be no different from what it might be usually. Perhaps this was because the members of this family were strangers to one another. She doubted that the presence of the son, Junichi, would change the atmosphere much.

  The late show ended, and Junichi still hadn’t returned. The family seemed unconcerned. No one gave him a thought.

  “Time for bed.” Once the TV set was turned off, Hisakuni stood up.

  It dawned upon Nanase that this semblance of family harmony had been precariously maintained by the background noise coming from the television. Once it had been turned off, the family was assailed by a suffocating silence. There was nothing left to do but go to bed.

  Hisakuni stopped suddenly just as he was leaving the living room. He had overlooked the fact that his daughter had come home late. Should he say something to her? He told himself that it was a parent’s duty to make some comment, if only for the sake of form. At the least, he had to play his role of loving father in this drama of family harmony.

  “From now on, I’d like you to get home at a decent hour,” he said in as light a tone as possible. His voice sounded forced.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Eiko apologized right away, having anticipated Hisakuni’s comment from the moment he stopped in his tracks. But, of course, she couldn’t let it go at that. She had to play her role of the mischievous daughter. And she had to retaliate.

  “But I never imagined that you’d get home before me on a Saturday night.” She laughed.

  Hisakuni also laughed. He was embarrassed.

  And Sakiko twisted her face and came out with her version of a laugh.

  Nanase, who felt quite unable to laugh, pretended to be tidying up. This family laughter did nothing for the tension; all it did was underline the emptiness.

  Even after everyone had gone to bed, Junichi had yet to return home.

  Nanase had been provided with a small room off the entrance hall. The occasional roar of cars speeding down the road outside kept waking her up. At dawn, around four thirty or five, she heard the resilient sound of a sports car disappearing into the adjoining garage. Junichi had his own key, so Nanase didn’t bother to get up.

  On Sunday morning, the whole family slept in. Sakiko finally woke up just before ten. Now that Nanase was here, she seemed to be deliberately taking it easy.

  Around noon, when Nanase passed by Junichi’s room, she could hear mumbling. Not knowing what it was, she stopped to listen. Eiko, who had just got up, giggled.

  “He’s talking in his sleep. It surprises everyone at first.”

  Junichi woke up just before two and asked for a huge bowl of miso soup, claiming it was good for hangovers. The previous night he had downed half a bottle of whisky at a girl’s apartment. She had been Junichi’s classmate in junior high school. Now she worked as a club hostess. Setsuko was her name. She had quite a figure.

  Father and son were sleeping with the same woman! What’s more, Junichi was aware of this. Nanase stared at Junichi. While drinking in bed with Setsuko, he would bad-mouth his father as a way of releasing his hostility.

  “Is there something strange about my face?”

  All at once Junichi plunked down his bowl on the kitchen table and looked up at Nanase. Taking advantage of the fact that they were alone, he had hoped to embarrass her. Nanase looked away, acting embarrassed.

  “No, no… nothing special…”

  Junichi, the narcissist, enjoyed making girls uncomfortable.

  That day Nanase kept her latch fastened until supper. She had been extremely disturbed to discover Setsuko in Junichi’s thoughts. Nanase had been actively reading people’s minds for ten years or so, and there was very little that surprised her any more, but this time she had definitely received a jolt.

  How horrible, she thought. I’ve never met such a horrible family before.

&n
bsp; It was an unspoken rule that every Sunday the whole family would stay home. This was the day when the Ogatas, to avoid a complete break-up, would show just how family-minded they really were.

  The sun was shining.

  Hisakuni spent the whole time pottering about the garden. The rest of the family were watching television or holed up in their rooms. Sometimes they’d wander about the house aimlessly and, whenever they ran into each other, they’d exchange empty jokes, laugh together or make innocuous wisecracks at Hisakuni in the garden.

  “Sis, you’ve put weight back on your behind.”

  “Did you have a good time last night? Ha-ha.”

  “Mum, you’re stooping.”

  “Oh Dad, you have such awful taste in sweaters.”

  “Father, you should take off your cap. Tomorrow at work, everyone will think you got a tan while playing golf.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. The underlings who escort clients around get golf tans. I’m far too important.”

  “Junichi, you’re getting a pot belly.”

  “Mum, you have a grey hair. Let me pull it out – look.”

  Sakiko was the only one who never answered back no matter what. She simply responded with her usual smile.

  Everyone in the family knew their roles. They’d roam through the house with malice in their hearts, avoiding physical contact at any cost, and adopting poses they had mastered out of soap operas.

  Nanase found it suffocating. The previous night she predicted that she wouldn’t last here very long.

  At exactly seven o’clock, when dinner was ready and the evening news began, the whole family assembled in the living room. This was another custom of the Ogata household, although no one said it out loud. If they had, the custom would have instantly vanished.

  “Would you like a whisky?” Sakiko asked her husband.

  There’s not much sake left. I hope he’ll want whisky.

  “I’ll have a little sake.”

  They don’t have sake at the club.

  Of course. He can’t drink sake at his club. Humph, what an old fogey. I’ll show him.

  “Give me a whisky,” said Junichi. Then, afraid he had sounded antagonistic, he quickly added, “I have to get up early tomorrow, so I need a drink to put me to sleep.”