Then what about that expression ten ni mo noboru kimochi (a feeling of rising to heaven)? Majime ruminated on the feeling he had experienced a moment before. Noboru was correct, not agaru, because his joy still had room to grow; he hadn’t yet attained heaven itself.
Then he thought of something else. Elation was described by the compound verb mai-agaru. Why not mai-noboru? He knelt on the floor and folded his arms, pondering. In that case, the emphasis was on the elation itself, wasn’t it? And since elation was by definition a higher plane of feeling than normal, it was more appropriate to use the verb that implied attainment of, rather than transition to, that plane.
Having come to a satisfactory resolution of the issue that had been nagging at him, Majime unfolded his arms. Only then did he notice that Kaguya was nowhere to be seen. Alarmed, he went out into the hallway. The first floor was silent. Maybe she’d taken offense at his clamming up. Maybe the invitation to the amusement park no longer stood. He mounted the stairs, heading for the second floor.
The sound of her laughter sounded from Také’s room. Také seemed to be chiding her. Maybe she was laughing her head off at him for being such a bokunenjin (dummy). For once Majime found himself concerned about losing his dignity. He cringed. The idea that the woman he loved might ridicule him made him unbearably sad. At the same time, he couldn’t help wondering about that word bokunenjin. What was its origin? It sounded vaguely like a Japanese rendition of a Chinese name, like Motakuto for Mao Zedong, but that probably wasn’t right.
Working up his courage, he opened the door. Kaguya and Také were munching rice crackers and watching television. The screen showed highlights of a popular daytime variety show.
“That emcee isn’t really into it, is he?” Kaguya was still laughing. “It makes it all the funnier!”
“Keep eating all those rice crackers and you won’t have room for lunch.”
After this mismatched exchange, the two women simultaneously took a sip of tea. Majime stood transfixed in the doorway, sensing the mystery of the blood bond between this pair, who outwardly looked nothing alike. Realizing that Kaguya had been laughing at somebody’s antics on television flooded him with relief.
Finally she became aware of his presence, turned to him, and smiled.
“All done thinking?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, shall we go, then?”
He was astonished. She’d been waiting until he came out of his reverie. This revelation was so astounding that Majime was less overjoyed than dumbstruck. Ignoring his apparent distracted state, she put a jacket over her shoulders and pocketed her wallet and phone.
“You coming, Grandma?”
“Where?”
“Korakuen Amusement Park.”
Také looked from her granddaughter to Majime. She pressed the top of the electric kettle and filled her teapot with hot water. Majime looked at her pleadingly.
All of a sudden Také clutched her side and bent over in evident pain.
Kaguya patted her back in alarm. “What is it, Grandma?”
“My spasms. You know how I always get them.”
“What are you talking about? What spasms?”
“You know. Spasms.”
Majime bent over Také and helped her right herself. “Are you okay?” he said.
She turned to him and blinked. She probably meant to wink, but it didn’t come off just right. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just need to go lie down for a while. You two run along without me.”
“But Grandma . . .”
With a burst of strength so powerful that spasms seemed impossible, Také shoved the hesitating Kaguya out the door. “Never you mind me. Have a grand time spinning around, getting tossed in the air, and plunging back to earth.”
That was her way of describing the rides. Her act was a bit phony, Majime thought, but he looked her thankfully in the eyes. She winked both eyes at him again.
And so Majime and Kaguya set out for Korakuen Amusement Park. Tora stuck his head out from under the heated quilt and meowed once, as if in blessing.
On that Sunday, the amusement park was crowded with young families and couples. Over the loudspeaker came the announcement of a live-action show. A roller coaster thundered by overhead.
It was still early afternoon. Majime hadn’t been to an amusement park since grade school, and he looked around in agitation. “Roller coasters nowadays are something, aren’t they?” he said. “Bigger and twistier than they used to be. Scary.”
“Grandma was trying to be nice to us, don’t you think?”
Another mismatched conversation. He looked at her. She was looking up at him, her dark eyes sparkling with determination and some kind of emotion. His chest hurt. He knew he needed to say something, but he also knew that no matter how big a dictionary he consulted, he would never come up with the right words.
“Which ride do you want to go on?” he asked, looking away.
She let out her breath, feeling perhaps that he had dodged the question. “That one.”
She pointed to the merry-go-round. Getting on one of the gaudily painted horses would be embarrassing, but at least it was better than the roller coaster. The constant noise of shrieking over their heads made him nervous, so he quickly nodded.
They rode the merry-go-round three times and in between wandered through the park. They didn’t talk much, but there was no awkwardness, either. It felt calm. When they sat on a bench, he stole a look at her profile. She seemed to feel peaceful, too. She was chewing her sandwich, watching as a pair of small brothers dragged their parents toward a big trampoline.
“Have you got brothers and sisters?” he asked.
“One older brother. He’s married and lives in Fukuoka. Works for a company there.”
“My parents have been living in Fukuoka for a long time now, ever since my dad got transferred.”
“Brothers and sisters?”
“I’m an only child. I only see my folks once a year, if that.”
“That’s what happens after you grow up.”
Then they talked about where in Fukuoka their respective family members lived, what to eat in Fukuoka, and which brand of seasoned cod roe was best as a souvenir. They exhausted the topic rather quickly and fell silent again.
There was the sound of a ride starting up. Screams, whether of joy or of fear, filled the air, along with cheerful music.
“Let’s go on that.”
She caught him lightly by the elbow and indicated a huge Ferris wheel. Her hand soon left his elbow, but the impression of her slim fingertips and their gentle pressure lingered in his mind.
The Ferris wheel was ultramodern, without central spokes, just an enormous wheel rising into the sky.
All the rides Kaguya had chosen were slow-moving. He wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t handle screamy ones herself, or if she was looking out for him as someone who was clearly not the screamy type. There was no line, so they climbed right into one of the little carriages and watched as the sky slowly opened up before them and the city spread out beneath their feet.