Plum Wine: A Novel

Chapter 23

4 209 4 23 R ie was absent from conversation class on Monday. When Barbara asked where she was—Rie had never missed a class before—there was some giggling but no one answered. At lunch Junko told Barbara that Rie had an accident on Saturday , “a tumble into the Tamagawa Canal.” “Is she okay? Was she hurt?” Barbara asked. “She must have fallen off her bicycle,” she added, thinking of all the dips and holes in the path along the canal. “No, she had stopped to pick some flower too close beside the stream,” Junko said. “She is in infirmary, but is hurt mostly in her pride, I think. Some students have unkindly said she tumbled in because she is too fat.” When Rie did not appear in class the next day, Barbara went to visit her in the infirmary, a dark room in the basement of one of the dormitories. Rie was lying in a bed at the far end of the room, her eyes closed. There were four other beds, all unoccupied. Barbara thought there might be a nurse, but there was no one in sight. She hesitated by the door. Maybe she would write a note and leave it on the little table beside the bed, along with the dried squid, which Rie had once said was her favorite snack. She tiptoed towards Rie’s bed. The room seemed like a prison: windowless, with a cement floor. There was dim light from a globe in the ceiling. Barbara carefully set the squid on Rie’s table, and felt in her pocketbook for a pen and some note paper. “Sensei!” Rie sat up. One hand was wrapped in a bandage and there was a dark bruise on her forehead. Her eyes were puffy and red. “I’m sorry—I woke you up.” “I was not sleeping. I am surprised you have come.” “I was worried about you.” “No one else has come to see me. I have no friend. And I am buffoon .” Tears began to dribble down her face. She rubbed her head furiously with the knuckles of her good hand. “I think I shall kill myself but I am coward.” “All you did was fall in the river—it could happen to anyone.” Barbara touched Rie’s shoulder. “Sometimes it takes more courage to live, doesn’t it? I’m sure you have more friends than you realize . Junko is very worried.” Rie did not answer; her back had gone rigid, as if she were holding her breath. “Does your hand hurt?” Barbara said. The bandage was grimy and unevenly bound, as if Rie had put it on herself. “Maybe we should have it x-rayed.” Rie sat up, and shoved the hand beneath the covers. “I am ashamed to tell you this is my excuse not to attend class. If I cannot write I cannot do my lesson.” “But you’ll fall behind—wouldn’t that be worse?” “Already I am behind. My class is graduated last March. I have been senior for over a year.” 4 210 4 4 211 4 “In a few years that won’t matter at all. Meanwhile, you could do your schoolwork here for a couple of days. What about your senior thesis—how is that coming along?” “I have not begun. I am poor student, disgrace to my family.” She started scrubbing her head with her knuckles again. “Stop.” Barbara caught her hand. “Write it now. Just a rough draft. You can pour out whatever you want to say—later it can be rewritten.” They were holding hands on top of Rie’s head. Rie pulled her hand free and looked up at Barbara, a hint of a smile in her eyes. “I will write as you say.” “Good—and I can bring your other assignments to you, or Junko—would you mind if Junko came?” “No,” she said in a small voice, “I will not mind.” “I’ve brought you some squid.” Barbara put the package on the bed beside her. “Well, I’ll go now—do you have some paper and a pen?” “Please ask Junko-san to bring me. Thank you, Sensei. I can never forget.” Two days later when Barbara was going to her kitchen to fix breakfast she saw a brown envelope that had been slipped beneath her apartment door. “Jefferson sensei, In Confidence,” was written on the outside. Barbara ripped open the envelope to find several sheets of...