23: New Life

Shyba—

Reba and I sit in her office where she keeps a desk and computer, as well as a large shelf full of medical books and family photographs. This is where she decided for us to have our weekly talks. She sets a couple glasses of iced tea on the table between us. Then as she sits her eyes are on me.

With a smile she says, “How are things today?”

“Ah, okay. I washed dishes, and my laundry is in the machine,” I mutter. “Is there more for me to work? I can do more.”

I expected to be doing much more work, but all I have been asked to do is mostly cleaning, helping with the garden, and feeding the animals. I am not earning my keep. There is so much time with nothing to do.

“You’re doing great sweetie,” she says. “No need to push yourself. You’ve only been officially living here a month. And you don’t have to be working every waking hour.”

My head lowers, my chest feeling tight.

“Speaking of, I have your allowance here,” she says, reaching over to grab her purse. Then she pulls an envelope out and hands it to me. “Thank you for your work.”

I stare down at it. This is the third allowance she has given me, yet I have done nothing to earn it. In fact, I have been withholding information. I hold it back out to her with both hands.

“I cannot accept.”

“Why not?” she asks.

“I…” For a second, the words won’t form. “I have not been honest to you.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Slowly, I set the envelope down on the table, my eyes remaining on my hands. Where do I start? How do I tell this kind, giving person how much of a monster I really am? She has given so much to someone unworthy. If she were to realize that, would she kick me out? Even if that were the case, it would be what I deserve anyway.

My fists clench on my lap and my eyes remain on the floor. “Reba… I…” Still the words will not form.

Why can I not tell her? My chest tightens again, and my head lowers more.

Out of my peripheral vision I see her lean forward. “I told you before I would listen to whatever it is you have to say. That’s why I wanted us to be able to speak one-on-one like this, just the two of us,” she says, her voice gentle. “And I want you to know that whatever you say, whatever we talk about, will never leave this room.”

For a moment I am stunned. She doesn’t know the weight of the secrets I hold, so could she truly keep silent if I were to tell her? Then again, perhaps it is best I leave her in the dark. I am not even supposed to be in this country. If somehow, I am found out and the police learn she knew of my past it could mean trouble for her. She is harboring a criminal.

Still, how can I keep this secret from her after she is being so kind to me? What do I do? My mind continues swirling in circles.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Just know that when you’re ready I’m here for you… even if it takes a while,” she says and leans back. “So how are you liking living here? Still having a bit of culture shock?”

“Ah…” I mutter uncertain what to say, reeling from the sudden change of subject. “I do not know what to do. There is much I do not know.”

“There’s no rush and remember, don’t be afraid to ask about anything whether it’s for help or if you want to learn something new,” she says. “Oh, Kiara mentioned you are already reading short stories. That’s really good.”

My heart twinges. How could I ever repay this family for all they have done for me?

“Thank you for eating supper with us too. I know it’s a big change for you,” she continues. “How do you like it?”

“The noise is… a lot, but the food is good.”

It seemed like forever before I could finally relax at the table. Before, all I could think of was to get it over with as soon as possible, but now I can sit through the whole meal. I am starting to find interest in the conversations they hold.

She giggles. “Sorry about that. I know things can get a bit hectic. I’m glad you enjoy the food though. Do you miss any of the foods from Japan?”

At first, I don’t know what to say. “I only ate from conbini. Easy and cheap.”

“I see.”

I continue staring at the envelope. “What work can I do for this?”

She lets out a gentle sigh as she thinks. “Hmmm, well, if you’re asking for more chores then perhaps ask Kiara or Jeremiah. I’m sure they might have some ideas.”

There is a buzz from down the hall, and I glance up. “My laundry.”

“Are you okay with ending our meeting here then?”

“Okay.”

She reaches over, picking up the envelope and placing it back into my hands. “Put this somewhere safe, alright?”

I look up as she smiles at me. Slowly, I nod and stand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says and as I leave the room, I feel so strange.

Before I head up to my room, I move my laundry to the dryer. It is still odd using a dryer, but I am adjusting. Then for a moment I sit on my bed, staring at the envelope in my hands. What do I even do with it? Nori would give me an allowance for rent, but I never had much left over for anything else other than food or other necessities. Not that I even really wanted anything.

I have everything I need here already, so what is the point of giving me this? I place it in the desk drawer with the other unopened envelopes. Then I head back downstairs to check the dishes. They are mostly dry now, so I grab a towel and wipe the remaining moisture off before putting them away.

Reba comes into the kitchen, grabbing her lunchbox from the fridge. Then she looks over at me, smiling. “You’re always so good about getting the dishes done. Kiara forgets to put them away half the time.”

My mind whirls, a flurry of emotions hitting me. “It is not difficult.”

She laughs lightly. “Okay, well, since you were asking for something else to do, it looks like one of the kids must have spilled juice in here. Do you mind cleaning it up?”

I go over, seeing the purple puddle on the bottom shelf. “I will clean it.”

“Thank you,” she says, closing the door. “I’ll be back from work later this evening and Jer and Kiara should be back from town before too long, so you’ll be by yourself for a little bit.”

I nod. “Okay.”

She leaves and I am left in silence. Once I finish putting the dishes away, I go over to the fridge and move everything from the bottom shelf, cleaning up the juice. Then as I put everything back where it was, I notice bits of food or stains on the other shelves. Before I realize it, I have wiped down every inch of the inside of the fridge and organized the contents.

I go to the sink to rinse out the towel and wash my hands. As I lather my hands with soap, I contemplate what to do next. Kiara and Jeremiah still have not returned yet. What would they ask me to do?

For a little bit I wander around, looking for more work. I end up sitting below the apricot trees, watching, and listening. Every now and then birds chirp, or the gentle breeze rustles the leaves.

Leaning back against the tree, I take a deep breath, the air fresh and lightly sweet from the mature apricots above me. I close my eyes and contemplate what to do. This kind of simple life is so strange to me. Can I really be of use here? Can I get used to this? Slowly, as the breeze gently caresses my face, I slip away.

The sound of running water is all that can be heard as I stare downward, washing my hands. Lather, rinse, repeat. Why will it not come off? The scent of blood is thick, the sink staining red.

My heart pounds in my ear. I let the water run, the blood perpetually dripping from my hands. I hear a whisper, too low to make out at first. My eyes dart around the room and I suddenly realize I am surrounded in ongoing darkness with only the sink and a mirror hanging above in midair.

Out of the silence, I hear someone’s voice, but it’s like they’re on the other side of a wall. As I glance around, I strain to hear the voice. Masculine. Maybe around my age?

“…hear…  me…”

It sounds like he is calling out to me. Is someone in danger?

“Hello?” I call.

“He— Can y— me—!”

His voice keeps cutting out like a bad connection on a phone call. I step back and look around, but it’s pure black all around.

“Where are you?” I call.

“Hey!”

I jump and look back to the mirror where I heard the voice from. There I see a boy with disheveled black hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. It takes me a moment to realize it is me as I stare at my eyes. I slowly reach out to touch the mirror, my reflection copying me with clean hands. As my fingertips touch the cool surface of the mirror there is a rippling effect, like water.

A hand shoots out of the mirror grabbing my wrist, smeared with blood. I try to pull away, but the grip is too strong. My blood runs cold as the reflection emerges from the mirror, standing before me and glowering down at me with red eyes. I quickly look away.

He growls and throws me down. I scramble up, darting away as fast as I can.

“You can’t run from me you coward!” he snarls. “Look at me!”

I can feel him on my heels, the light from behind us making his shadow appear before me. I watch in horror as it changes, becoming monstrous with long pointy horns and what looks to be claws from his hands. I pick up the pace, but I cannot run fast enough.

“Look at me!” he shrieks.

In the distance I see a white door bathed in light. If I can get to the other side of the door, maybe I can lock it and he won’t be able to follow. I book it toward the door, my lungs aching. As I get closer, I can see the silver doorknob. I reach out, ready to grab it.

The next thing I know I’m on the ground, the wind gusting out of my mouth as he pins me down. “Don’t you dare open that door!”

My fingers claw at the black surface of the floor as he drags me back. He turns me over, my eyes still trained on the door as I gasp for air.

“Look at me! Stop running!” he screams, grabbing my head and turning it to look up at him.

What I see makes every fiber of my being cry out, my heart seeming to stop. Then I scream.

Translations:

Conbini – Convenience store (“conbini” is essentially the pronunciation of “convenience”)