Quicksand (19 page)

“All my efforts were just to win you back. Now that I think of it, that scene I put on, rolling my eyes and all, wasn't so bad for an amateur!”

Well, she had to admit that her performance was meant to deceive me, but she felt sure I could understand her motive, even sympathize with her, rather than blame her for it.

However, it wasn't long till Watanuki learned about our reconciliation. Mitsuko wanted to show him she had turned his own plot against him; instead of hiding it, she couldn't wait to see how he would behave when he found out.

“You've been getting together with her again lately, haven't you? Don't try to pretend you haven't. I know all about it.”

“Oh, I'm not pretending at all,” she replied coolly. “You'd only suspect me anyway, so I thought I might as well see her.”

“Why did you have to do that behind my back?”

“It wasn't behind your back. You can suspect me as much as you like, but I won't lie to you—I'll tell you what I did.”

“Yes, but weren't you keeping quiet about it up till now?”

“Why shouldn't I? I don't have to report everything I do.”

“Even if it's that important? There must be more to it.”

“But I told you I saw her, didn't I?”

“Just saying you saw her isn't enough. Tell me which of you made the first move.”

“I went to apologize to her, and she forgave me.”

“What!” he cried. “Why should
you
apologize?”

“Am I supposed to forget about her, after calling her out to the inn at that hour and borrowing clothes and money? Maybe you could be so ungrateful, but I couldn't.”

“I sent everything we borrowed back to her by mail the next day. There's no need to go out of your way to thank such an insufferable woman.”

“Oh? And what did you tell Sister at the time? Didn't you bow your head to that ‘insufferable woman' and clasp your hands and beg for help? ‘I don't care what happens to me,' you said, ‘but if you take Mitsuko safely home I'll be forever grateful!' And now you talk like that! In the first place, think how much trouble you'd have caused if the clothes you sent back fell into her husband's hands. No matter what you say, she's somebody who helped us—you don't know the meaning of the word grateful! The more I hear, the more I think you had something up your sleeve that night. . . .”

Watanuki looked startled. “Something up my sleeve? And what would that be?”

“I don't know, but isn't it funny that you were sure we'd broken off for good, even though I hadn't said a word about it? If you thought I'd fall into the trap you set for me, you were wrong.”

“I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about!”

“Well, then, why didn't the police return our stolen kimonos?”

“How should I know, at this late date?” He seemed stung by her question and shrugged it off with an embarrassed grin. “I can't see why you're so upset—you ought to stop grilling me and come out with it.”

But Watanuki was not a man to leave it at that. A few days later he brought the subject up again, this time with a touch of flattery.

“Mrs. Kakiuchi must have been good and angry—I wonder how you managed to get around her,” he said. “That's something I'd like you to teach me!” And: “You're remarkably clever, for such a sweet-looking girl. . . . The women in the pleasure quarter are no match for you!”

After this rather backhanded praise, she decided she might as well give in and tell him the whole story of tricking me into a reconciliation.

“Where did you learn to perform that little farce?”

“I learned it from
you
, of course!”

“Don't be absurd! I imagine you've played that kind of hoax on
me
.”

“There you are, being suspicious again. I've never done a thing like that before.”

“I can't understand why you'd go to such lengths to be on friendly terms with her.”

“Didn't you tell her you don't mind? The other day you said we three ought to be friends.”

“I only said that because she'd make trouble if we provoked her.”

“That's another lie. You were trying to lead her on—I know all about what you were up to that night.”

“And I still don't know what you're talking about.”

“Listen, even a worm will turn, you know, and people won't let you get away with plotting behind their backs.”

“You have no proof that I've done what you call plotting. Aren't you the suspicious one?”

“Suppose I am. But now that it's come to this, I think you've got to go on being friends with Sister, the way you promised! You may not believe me, but I've never said anything unpleasant about you to her. . . .”

Mitsuko was sharp-witted enough to tell Watanuki that one reason she came to me with her outlandish story was to help him conceal his humiliating condition. She wanted me to believe that he was entirely normal. If she went to all that trouble to preserve his reputation, why couldn't he be a little more generous and let the three of them
be
friends from now on? . . . She was touching a sensitive nerve in him, coaxing and threatening by turns.

“As long as I'm meeting you here at the inn, I intend to have Sister come too,” she declared. And she told him she didn't ever want him to stick his nose into our relations again—if he did, she made clear,
he
would be the one she'd leave, not me.

After that, he had nothing more to say.

“. . .
YOU KNOW, SISTER
, as close as we've been, I feel ashamed to confess all this to you, and I've been holding back, thinking it might turn you against me. I couldn't be more miserable. But today I told you everything!”

Mitsuko was lying with her face in my lap, weeping freely, her tears streaming onto me. I didn't know how to console her—the Mitsuko I'd known until that day was radiant, spirited, her eyes flashing with pride, not the sort of person to betray the slightest weakness or bitterness. It was shocking to see that glorious creature lose her self-confidence and collapse in tears. After that, Mitsuko told me she had always been too stubborn to let anyone see her pain, in spite of how depressed she felt, but still, if it hadn't been for me she'd have suffered far more. Thanks to me, she had the courage to endure misfortune; her mood brightened whenever she saw me, and she forgot her troubles. But today at last, for some reason, sadness had overwhelmed her, she could no longer suppress it by sheer willpower, the dam had burst, and the long-pent-up tears had flowed.

“Oh, Sister, please, please . . . you're the only one I can trust—don't let what I've said turn you against me!”

“How could anything turn me against you? I'm glad you were able to come out with it. You can't imagine how happy I am to have you trust me like that!”

Then Mitsuko seemed to relax, but, weeping all the while, she went on to tell me that Eijiro had ruined her life, there was no future for her, no ray of hope, she could only live out her days in misery. She would rather die than marry that man. Couldn't I think of a way for her to break off with him? Please, she begged me, help me find a way out.

“Now that it's come to this, I'll be honest with you,” I said. “The truth is, I made a pledge as brother and sister with Eijiro. We exchanged documents spelling out all the details.”

And I told her everything that had happened the day before.

“It's just as I thought!” Mitsuko exclaimed. “No matter what you say, he suspects he'll be found out, so he did all that just to make sure of you, Sister. He wants to drag you along with him if he has to give me up. . . .”

That reminded me of how amazed he looked when I told him it was the first I'd heard that Mitsu was pregnant. “The first you've heard?” he had demanded, his eyes bloodshot, the color gone from his lips. “Did she say why she couldn't have a baby? Was it because she had some kind of physical condition?” Then it came to me that in the midst of our talk he had more than once sighed and repeated that melodramatic outcry: “Ah, what wretched luck I've had!”

I had interpreted that sentimental cry as a blatant appeal for sympathy, but maybe, brazen though he was, he had been overcome by his secret grief and couldn't help revealing the sense of isolation that he tried to hide from others. Still, he had been probing me slyly with his questions: “Why wouldn't she tell you she was pregnant? Did she have to lie about it, to you of all people?” And then: “Her father is positively furious. . . . If she has a baby, they'll send it out for adoption.”

That was bad enough, but there were all those special clauses in the agreement. “Reading it over, I can see it's more to your advantage than mine, Sister,” he had said. “That must show you how sincere I am.” And yet if he hadn't been worried about his own prospects, why did he use all that ridiculous language to try to win my confidence? Just when did he expect to take advantage of our vow? Think of these conditions: “Elder sister will exert every effort to see that her brother and Mitsuko are brought together in formal matrimony.” And: “If the brother is abandoned, his sister will break off relations with Mitsuko.” And also: “Neither party, without the express consent of the other, will engage in any such action as running away with Mitsuko, concealing their whereabouts, or committing double suicide with her.”

That last condition seemed to have been what he had his eye on, according to Mitsuko; the others were only added to fill it out. As legalistic as he was, Watanuki hardly needed to go to so much trouble drawing up an elaborate document. But in fact, lately Mitsuko's attitude toward him had been more and more desperate; there was no telling what she would do. So it looked as if all his scheming was out of fear that the situation would soon go from bad to worse.

As for the time the three of us went to the Shochiku Theater, not so long before, it was Mitsuko who brought us together:

“Why don't you meet Sister for once,” she had told him, “instead of being so prejudiced against her? Just by talking to her you could tell what sort of person she is and whether or not she knows your secret.” She thought it would keep him from saying anything to me in private, but all evening he was strangely morose and silent.

“Do you suppose he was being so quiet because he already meant to approach me behind your back?” I asked.

“I don't know, but he was always afraid I might throw him over and run away with you, Sister.”

“I'm sure that once he brought off the marriage he'd have nothing more to do with me. I don't need you anymore, he'd say.”

“All that talk about getting married was just to convince himself; he really doesn't believe it's possible. He knows if he tried to force me I'd rather die. But with you there, Sister, he doesn't have to worry about my being stolen by another man, so he'd like us to go on the way we are.”

That day, too, Watanuki was waiting for Mitsuko, but she said she hated the thought of seeing him and hoped I could get him to leave. I told her it would only make him more suspicious than ever; things would get even worse. Better not to mention what we talked about that day, and let me help her find a way to break off with him—I'd manage it somehow, even if it killed me! I'd kill
him
, if I had to! Now Mitsuko and I were both crying, but I did my best to encourage her before I left.

. . . Well, judging by the date on the vow—July 18, that is—it must have been the nineteenth, the next day, that Mitsuko and I had our talk. Around then my husband finished up a case that had been keeping him very busy, and he suggested taking a summer vacation.