‘It might not be ritzy enough for you, though …’
See, she’s already feeling inferior!
‘Not at all. I may have a job but I live on my own and have to economize. Sometimes it’s worth indulging yourself, but I love a good bargain – like the discounts at the supermarket right before the store’s about to close, or a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant!’
‘In that case, let’s go!’
To an outsider, they might have looked like sisters. The thought made Shoko smile.
There it was, her first step towards happiness.
And after this cake-and-coffee date, she will have made a new friend. Which, at her age, was not such an easy thing to do.
Sakasegawa Station
My goodness.
Tokié gazed casually at the young couple that stood waiting at the next boarding spot on the platform for the train bound for Takarazuka.
As one aged, the days seemed to fly by. A year passed without her even realizing it, and what happened six months ago felt like it was just yesterday.
Tokié immediately recalled having seen that enormous canvas tote bag, brightly printed with a certain internationally recognizable mouse.
Back then, the young woman carrying it had been on the opposite platform, midway up the stairs. And the young man standing next to her now had been trying earnestly to persuade her to accept an invitation somewhere, while she smiled back at him.
That heartwarming scene of budding romance that Tokié had just happened to witness appeared to have developed into a fully-fledged relationship. The two of them stood there now, fingers lightly interlaced, talking and laughing as they waited for the train.
Tokié herself was waiting for the train with her granddaughter Ami and holding the carrier for her miniature Dachshund. Ami had wanted to name the dog something vaguely genteel and French-sounding like Marron or Chocolat, but naming rights were the preserve of the pet’s owner.
Tokié would have preferred to get a Japanese dog breed but not many of them were small enough. She learned that a Shiba Inu, for instance, required a significant amount of daily exercise, and thus might not be the best breed for someone her age.
There was also a miniature version called the Mamé Shiba Inu, but Tokié had heard that some so-called mini Shiba Inu still grew to be the same size as a regular Shiba Inu, and that was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.
In the end, Tokié went with a breed that Ami had wanted, a black long-haired miniature Dachshund, though she would not budge on the dog’s name.
Ken was his name. It was the same as the Kai Ken that Tokié’s parents had long ago, who had lived until around the time when Tokié’s son had started nursery school. Her son seemed not to remember this detail – he had made the comment about the fact that since ‘ken’ was one way to read the kanji for dog, it wasn’t a very ingenious name.
Ami, for her part, was upset that Tokié hadn’t chosen a more charming name but Tokié was unmoved. She was certainly not the type of grandmother who would go to such lengths to indulge her granddaughter.
After about half a year had passed, though, Ami seemed to have come around to the name Ken. And the dog was fulfilling its purpose: Ami started staying over at Tokié’s house; in fact, the night before, her daughter-in-law had brought Ami over on the way home from nursery school, apologizing and asking whether Tokié minded taking care of her. Ever since she had got Ken, it seemed that Tokié’s home had been transformed into a de-facto overnight playschool.
‘Granny, let me hold Ken’s carrier!’
‘No, dear. You asked before and you wouldn’t have made it all the way down the staircase just now, would you?’
‘I can hold it just fine while we’re waiting!’
Not wanting Ami to make any more of a fuss before the train arrived, Tokié relented and handed the carrier to Ami.
‘Step back a little. You mustn’t drop the carrier. If it even looks like you aren’t holding it properly, I’ll make you give it right back to me.’
As expected, Ami wasn’t able to hold on to it for the duration of their wait.
‘Here, I’m giving it back,’ she said.
‘What did I tell you?’
Just as Tokié took the carrier back from Ami, they heard the signal at the crossing for the oncoming train.
As it turned out, there was absolutely no reason for Tokié to have been concerned about whether Ami would make a fuss before they got on the train.
Never in my life have I been on a train that was so unruly!
The moment the train doors opened, shrill female voices gushed forth, chattering and laughing. Had these belonged to young children or students, Tokié might have been willing to look the other way without giving it much further thought, but in this case she couldn’t help wondering why, when some women reached a certain age, they appeared to lose all sense of decency.
The train car seemed so full of their frisky cries, at first Tokié thought the ladies had taken over half of the seats, but in reality they only numbered five or six – their chitter-chatter was just that loud. It didn’t help that, despite the fact that they were sitting in a row along one bench, they were trying to have a single conversation together, so they were all shouting at the top of their lungs.
It was no coincidence that there were only a few other passengers sharing this car with them. Those who were riding with them appeared impatient or didn’t try to hide their annoyance, but the housewives kept babbling on, seemingly oblivious.
The din was such that when Tokié boarded the train, Ken whimpered through his nose, perhaps out of fear. One of the housewives actually seemed to notice, because she looked over at the carrier Tokié was holding and made a little frown.
The door through which they had boarded left them as close as possible to where the ladies were sitting and Tokié wanted to put some distance between them if possible. She took Ami by the hand and stood near the opposite door.
Ami was staring with keen interest at these ladies, squawking like tropical birds. It couldn’t be helped – young children were attracted by sound and light. And they were so raucous that even the grownups found it hard to ignore them.
Ami was at that vexing age when she insisted on asking why certain things were the way they were.
‘Granny,’ she looked up at Tokié and then turned towards the housewives, ‘how come they’re making so much noise, even though they’re grownups?’
Worried that Tokié might not be able to hear her over the women’s talking, Ami had raised her own voice to pose her innocent question, making it audible to more people than she might have intended, and several of the other passengers let out an unsuccessfully suppressed giggle.
‘When we went on a field trip at nursery school, our teacher told us to be quiet on the train. But for grownups, it’s OK?’
Again, there were a few giggles.
Tokié looked down at her granddaughter and shrugged. I see that you too like to point out when things don’t make sense. I wonder where you get that from?
There was a pause in the housewives’ chatter as they looked over and glared, with brows arched.
‘Hey! What are you teaching that child?’
The one who lit the spark was sitting in the middle of the group, the apparent queenpin.
Now Tokié herself spun around to face them.
‘I am teaching my granddaughter the basic rules of civility.’
Tokié’s sharp retort elicited further sneers from other passengers, and the housewives’ faces flushed with anger.
‘Wha … What do you mean by “civility” when you’re the one bringing a dog onto the train?! If that’s what you think is civilized, then it’s easy to imagine what’s in store for that child!’