Nako got a doll from Yoko as a souvenir after her trip to Poland. It has blond plaited hair and huge sky-blue eyes and is dressed in a white blouse with puffed sleeves, a black vest, a flowered skirt and black lace-up boots. It reminds Nako of an old friend of hers, Yadashka. She was Nako’s best friend back when they were living in a small town in Alaska. Her husband, Misha was an engineer at Toshi’s company.
Listening to Yoko explain that the doll is dressed in the folk costume of Krakov, Nako gets the feeling that Yadashka is standing right there. Nako liked Yadashka, which is why she liked Yadashka’s husband as well. That’s why she refused him when he asked her to run away with him. Yadashka’s husband went eagerly about calculating what he was going to leave Yadashka. He counted out everything on his fingers to see if it would be enough to last her the rest of her life. He said he was planning on leaving her the house and 70,000 dollars in savings. Nako told him that she couldn’t run away with him because it was wrong. To this he retorted that running away would be the right thing to do and that it would actually be wrong not to.
The doll from Krakov nodded enthusiastically as she sat by Nako’s pillow. It had a supple body, reminding her once again of Yadashka. Its flowered skirt spread out like an umbrella, tickling Nako’s neck as she lay in bed.
Both Yadashka and her husband are dead, so Nako cannot apologize to them.
Even if they were alive, and she were to make an apology, they probably wouldn’t say if they would forgive her or not. They would probably just stand up and walk off into the fields. They were the kind of people who would never agree to what they didn’t believe in. Instead, they would look up silently toward the sky, their lips tightly compressed.
When Nako took her daughter to Sunday school at the town church, Yadashka said to her, “It’s not right to send a child who can’t yet think on her own to church. I used to go to a Catholic church when I was a child, and I was a good Catholic until I was about 30. But nowadays, I don’t agree with what God has to say. I still celebrate Christmas, but not because I like God. It’s because I’m fond of the memories of people I used to meet at Christmas a long time ago.
Yadashka had a faraway look on her face as she said this, as if remembering the Christmases of the past. Her father was from the middle class and before the war, they apparently led a fairly affluent life. As a child, she wasn’t allowed into the room decorated with the tree until the night of Christmas. She talked about how excited she was when she opened the presents at the foot of the tree and how she fondly remembered the carp that was served for dinner. When it was time for Mass, the common folk would walk to church, lighting their way with lanterns over the snow-covered roads, but young ladies would ride to church in horse-drawn sleighs. She related this to Nako, not boastfully, but as if she were looking back fondly on how it used to be.
Yōko’s Polish doll reminds Nako of her friend Yadashka of so long ago, and Nako ponders the fact that the doll’s foot is kicking her around the nape of her neck. Yadashka wore black lace-up boots. Blue veins ran over her slim ankles; the boots were covered with Polish snow. The heels of those cold boots kick Nako’s temples and the nape of neck every night.
Yadashka’s husband, Misha, died in an accident some years ago. How could a man who was thinking of eloping with another woman die alone, thought Nako.
While he was alive, Misha had had an affair with Nako. Afterwards he said to her, “Yadashka will never forgive me. I’m going to be killed soon.”
Setting aside the question of whether he was actually killed or not, the fact is that every year, one or two of Nako’s friends depart for the other world. They are probably being beckoned by acquaintances who are already there. Nako is becoming more and more alone in this world.
The main reason why Nako was attracted to Yadashka’s husband was because she thought Yadashka was a rare kind of woman, a woman of substance. If it hadn’t been for Yadashka, she would never have fallen for him.
Misha said, “I know Yadashka is going to kill me.” Why didn’t he say, “I know Toshi is going to kill me”? Well, not surprising really, considering that Nako herself was positive that Toshi would never kill her. The fact that Toshi would never kill her was Nako’s greatest discontent. For her part, Nako had always been sure that she would be able to stab Toshi anytime. In fact, she had actually threatened to do so a number of times.
Nako, however, often found herself thinking that Yadashka had just cause to kill her. She now has the Yadashka doll seated by her pillow as she lies in bed. Every night, the doll kicks her above the ear with its lace-up boots. While receiving those kicks, Nako finds herself wanting to be kicked even harder, to be trampled down.
Toshi said to her, “You’ve gained 10 kg since you left hospital. If you put on any more weight you’ll have another stroke. Besides, if you get any heavier, I won’t be able to support and walk you.”
Having said this, however, he’d say, “I’m so glad you’re not like that huge Yadashka.”
Yadashka probably weighed at least 120 kg. Her ankles, however, were slim and beautiful, and you could see the blue veins. Nako is sure that she can make a fairly accurate sketch of Yadashka’s beautiful ankles even now. Come to think of it, she used to draw Toshi’s body quite often back then. In those days, she could draw his body without even looking at him. She never once sketched Yadashka’s husband’s body. She had stared at his body many times, but if she had attempted to sketch him, she would probably have ended up with a rather poor and inaccurate drawing.
When Yadashka became angry with Misha, she would suddenly become silent and start to think meticulously about how she would leave him. She was that type. Misha was afraid that if he betrayed Yadashka, she would kill him. But Yadashka would never do the actual killing. She was firm in her belief that people were not so weak as to change their minds or choose a different course of action just because they were threatened by death. This realization was driven into her by her involvement in the Resistance and through her struggles with her comrades. People act upon their beliefs in silence, making sure that others are unaware of what is being done. So, when Yadashka and Misha began spending time separately in different rooms, Nako became increasingly frightened that the smoke smoldering within Yadashka would eventually burst into flame. She once whispered to Misha, “Don’t you think Yadashka’s acting strange these days? I’m scared.” ”Yadashka may be thinking of something. Who knows what’s going on in other people’s minds,” he answered brusquely.
”Does she know about us?”
”Probably. It’s impossible to keep secrets from her.”
But Misha suddenly brightened up as if to say that it was silly to fret about such trivial matters, and began humoring Nako in various ways.
He even went as far as to whisper such cliche remarks as “You are priceless. I’d pay anything for you.”
”Yadashka is like a distant mountain. She exists, but that’s it. Let’s not think about her. All we have to do is avoid looking in her direction. Eventually the clouds will block her out.”
What a strange thing for him to say, Nako thought. The possibility of rain or thunder crossed the corner of her numb mind. But that huge mountain would never cease to exist. Once it stopped raining or thundering, the sun would shine and it would appear just as before. It was a mountain one couldn’t help noticing. At times it might seem far away, and at times threateningly close. That was all.
A couple of years after Misha’s death, Yadashka too died. A friend living in town tried calling her a number of times. When no one answered, she went over to Yadashka’s place and found her on the floor near the bed. It wasn’t quite clear what had happened, as she had already been dead several days. But according to the doctor, it was probably a heart attack. The friend wrote to Nako, informing her of Yadashka’s death. The letter ended, “If you are thinking of sending flowers, it would be nice if you could perhaps make a small donation to the town library instead, considering how much Yadashka loved books. I remember how often you both visited the library.”
In fact, it was in the library that they first met, and Nako has a feeling that the library was also where they saw each other for the last time. Following her friend’s advice, she wrote a letter to the chief librarian, who was an old friend, enclosing a small donation. Yadashka had recommended that she borrow an English translation of The Book of Laotzu and a collection of old Polish poems from the library. They chatted for about five minutes by the window, which offered a view of a fiord. She remembers discussing Gunter Grass.
”I find his works rather nasty. There’s no beauty in them,” said Yadashka. Nako was in the midst of reading one of his works, but because of that comment, she didn’t bother to finish it. All Nako can remember now is Yadashka’s criticism. Yadashka was the kind of person who described things as being “nasty” or “squalid.”
The Yadashka doll is seated by Nako’s pillow. She’s kicking Nako’s head with her boots. Nako can hear Yadashka whispering in her ear, “nasty woman,” “squalid woman.”
Nako squeezed the doll’s neck. If Nako had actually tried fighting with Yadashka back then, Nako would of course have been the one to lose. Yadashka was twice her size. She told Nako that she was a member of the Resistance and was sent to a Nazi concentration camp towards the end of the war, but that she managed to survive even though she was reduced to skin and bones.
”By the time we were liberated, I was only 80 kg.” Yadashka shuddered at the memory. But since Nako only weighed 40 kg, she could only shrug her shoulders. At the time of her death, Yadashka was well over a hundred kg, so her heart must have been quite weak. The Yadashka doll’s slim ankles belong to a young girl weighing no more than 40 or 50 kg. It seemed to Nako that she could easily choke her with her thumb and forefinger.
Before meeting Yadashka, Nako had never come across a woman who aroused a sense of rivalry within her; someone who made her want to say, “Okay then, let’s see who wins.”
But Nako felt fiercely attracted to Yadashka. She never failed to amaze Nako with her sharp sensitivity and acute understanding, her intellect and artistry. She was also a superb housekeeper in every sense, far exceeding the capabilities of the average woman. Everyone in town felt honored to be invited to dinner by Yadashka. Her witty conversation would linger in people’s minds for a long time. Toshi said to Nako, “It’s a good thing you weren’t a gigantic woman like Yadashka. If you were Yadashka, I would never have been able to care for you like this. I’d be crushed to death after walking you a couple of steps.” “You would have crushed me to death,” Toshi said once again. Nako had a nightmare in which she was being cared for by Yadashka. She was in Yadashka’s arms. And since Yadashka was several times her size, Nako felt suffocated as her face was pressed firmly against Yadashka’s body. She cried out, “I want Toshi!” But Yadashka continued to hold her tight, saying “I’m the only one here.”
Yadashka and her husband Misha were both students in Warsaw when Poland was besieged by the Nazis. When the people of Warsaw rose in revolt against the Nazis in 1944, the two young people were swept up in the turmoil. They were both captured and sent to concentration camps. Yadashka was freed by the Allies the day before her execution. She went to stay with her cousin in Paris and set to work editing Polish textbooks which had been destroyed by the German forces. That’s how she met and married Misha, who was working for a printing company in Paris after being freed from a German camp. Their story had slowly been revealed to Nako and Toshi in the course of ten years. Those were memories of a time belonging to all four of us. Yes, I knew what it was like to be young too, thought Nako as she fingered the Yadashka doll’s flowered skirt. The ankles stretching out from underneath the skirt kick Nako’s head. This is how she must have been kicked, thought Nako as she grasped the doll’s ankles. The doll wore her blond hair in two long plaits down her chest. Her huge skyblue eyes were open wide. Once in a while, Yadashka’s sky-blue eyes would turn violet, and her blond hair would seem like silver waves.
”I got this ash-blond hair from my Russian grandmother.”
Misha was a golden blond. His grandfather or grandmother was also Russian.
He may have also had a French or Danish grandfather or grandmother. Since Nako and Toshi probably had some ancestor or other who was either Chinese, Korean or Japanese, they would discuss the subject of ancestry with Misha and Yadashka. They talked about how much their lives were tainted with all the sin and sorrow they had inherited from their ancestors. Sometimes the discussions would sort of hover and disappear; at other times they would continue to linger and create a throbbing sensation within their bluish veins. All four felt a mixture of love and hate toward their ancestors.
Yadashka would visit distant fields and come back with all sorts of flowers that she had found growing in the wild to plant in her garden. Black lilies, shooting stars, irises, columbine, bleeding hearts, poppies—some of them had been brought back from faraway fields in Europe. Every now and then she would present Toshi and Nako with the roots of some of her precious wild flowers. On such occasions, she would always ask Nako, “Do you think Toshi will have time to care for these flowers? I’m afraid I can’t trust you, Nako. You’d only plant them indifferently without even cultivating the soil. You’d let them die right away. That’s why I can’t give them to you. But I think Toshi would be able to grow them well.”
”Yadashka, I’m sure Toshi will take great care of anything you give him. He has green fingers and what’s more, he likes you.”
As a matter of fact, Toshi was quite envious of Yadashka’s wild flowers and respected her for cultivating them. And so it was that a number of wild flowers from Yadashka’s garden ended up in Toshi’s garden.
”It won’t be long now till Yadashka comes and then I’ll be able to die. I’m really looking forward to that moment. I bet Toshi wouldn’t help you die. There are very few people who would help someone die unless it was worth his or her while. It takes a lot of energy to cause someone’s death. Everyone would rather save that energy for him or herself. That sort of energy can only be triggered by mutual energy. You weren’t able to draw that kind of energy out of Toshi because you were always thinking only about yourself. But I have Yadashka. She will let me die. Goodbye then. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”
Misha sounded like Mephistopheles with his deep rich voice. Soon after that, Misha and Yadashka left on a trip to their native Poland, their first visit in 20 years, and to Paris where they had spent their youth. Some time later, they went on yet another trip. But Misha was hit by a truck right in front of the Paris Opera. Yadashka was with him. He was taken to the hospital right away, but died two hours later. A month later, Yadashka visited Toshi and Nako and said to them, “During the last six months, there were times when Misha would have a dizzy spell. He’d be walking and suddenly he’d crumple softly to the ground, rather like melting snow. That was how it was when it happened. In a way, I feel sorry for the truck driver who hit Misha. Perhaps he was more of a victim.”
Nako woke when the Yadashka doll kicked her in the head. The doll’s flowered skirt flared out and smothered Nako’s nose and mouth. She tried to brush the material away. But it was stuck like vinyl.
”Toshi, where are you? Why won’t you cover my mouth with your hand? Brush this skirt off me!”
She rang the bell on her bedside table to call Toshi, just like she always did. But Toshi didn’t appear. She could hear Misha’s Mephistophelian laugh.
”Energy cannot be produced alone. It needs to be stirred and awakened by another force of energy. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”
”Misha, where are you!”
Nako tried to shout but her voice failed her. Toshi was standing by her side.
”You were having a nightmare.”
Nako heard him whisper, but she was too numb to move.
Why did Nako awaken? Why is she still alive? But Toshi was by her side. Nako attended her own funeral dressed in a black dress, a flowing black cape, a black hat and veil, black shoes and bag. Nako’s was the only coffin laid out in the center of the desolate ceremonial hall, with its tall ceiling. There were no guests. Just then, two figures came to pay their respects. Marie and Akira. “Oh, hello.” Marie and Akira nodded their heads and smiled nicely. Toshi was looking quite calm and well. The color of mourning suits him well.
Misha appeared sluggishly. His funeral suit looks like crumpled paper that’s been smoothed out again. It’s made from the same material as the dress that Yadashka was making before she and Misha left for Europe. She was making a black silk dress for her first trip back to her motherland in 20 years. The day before their departure, Nako went to help Yadashka finish the dress because it wasn’t ready yet. During the war, Nako and her fellow students were mobilized to work in a navy factory sewing military uniforms, so she has a professional’s touch when it comes to sewing buttonholes and hems. Nako sewed over a dozen button-holes for Yadashka. While she was sewing she kept on hearing the sound of jet engines. However, she managed to finish the button-holes neatly, precisely, and beautifully. The following day, Yadashka left for Europe, wearing the dress and a flowered scarf around her neck. She said the black dress looked like a mourning dress, so she had bought some white satin with a pattern of red roses to make a scarf. The skirt which the Yadashka doll on the bedside table is wearing is made out of the same material as that scarf.
Soon after Misha and Yadashka returned from their first trip back home in 20 years, Nako began to feel that something in their relationship had changed. Till then the two had always been in the same room. But after their return, they stayed in separate rooms doing separate things. Nako asked Yadashka many questions about their trip. And this is what Yadashka told her one day.
”We visited a woman who used to be one of our comrades in the Resistance. Kactya had become the mother of a boy about the age of a junior high school student. But she still talked like a schoolgirl herself. Kactya’s husband was Misha’s cousin, and her son bore a slight resemblance to Misha. I think it was a shadow cast by ancestral genes. Something strange happened when I called Kactya one day. Misha wanted to see her again. But when I mentioned this to her, she became all worked up and shouted, ‘Tell Misha I never want to see him again!’ And she slammed the phone down as if she were furious. When I told Misha about what had happened, he just said, ‘If she says so, we’d better not go and see her again.’He sounded quite strange.”
The story reminds Nako of what Misha once said. “I have a son by another man’s wife. But Yadashka doesn’t know this, or rather, she doesn’t want to know. I’m thinking of living with my son one day.”
Knowing something that Yadashka didn’t gave Nako a sense of superiority.
Nako thought their old comrade, this Kactya person, was probably the reason why they’d fallen out with each other since the trip. But she had no positive proof and besides, there was nothing she could do about it. So it wasn’t long before she forgot all about it. However, every now and then, Yadashka would stare into Nako’s eyes with those huge sky-blue eyes of hers, making it impossible for Nako to move. It was as if her eyes had been penetrated by Yadashka’s.
Nako would ask Misha, “Do you think Yadashka knows about us?”
To this, Misha would reply, “Probably. In any case, when a man becomes involved with a woman, he feels as if she can see through his heart and that he will eventually be killed by her.”
Misha shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Nako hated Misha for saying such things. It made her even more angry to think that Toshi would never kill her.
”Toshi doesn’t have the strength to be so kind as to kill you,” Misha would say scornfully. How many years has it been since Misha and Yadashka died?
Nako hadn’t thought much about Yadashka for the last couple of years. But ever since Yoko gave her that doll from Poland, she’s been forced to think of her quite often. The doll is seated by Nako’s pillow and kicks her near the eyes every night. She is overwhelmed with fear that Yadashka’s huge eyes will penetrate hers and immobilize her. Nako has become paralyzed on one side and has been bedridden for the past two years. All she can think about is the past. She remembers a poem by Ono no Komachi which goes,
Is life a dream or real
Who’s to say if it’s real or imagined
If it never happened at all
She shakes her head and tries to dismiss all the past scenes that appear in her mind as things that never happened. All she can do is stoically bear having her own eyes being penetrated by Yadashka’s larger ones. She can neither open nor close her eyes. Every now and then she reaches out with her right hand, as if to see if Toshi is by her side. It’s also the only way she can confirm her own existence.
Yadashka has come hand in hand with Misha. She’s wearing the exact same folk costume as the Yadashka doll, right down to the black lace-up boots. It looks as if she’s come walking through a snowy field. Her boots are covered with snow. On entering the room, Misha began playing Mozart’s piano sonata
”I was playing Chopin at home until a little while ago. But I prefer Mozart. I couldn’t find the music at home. It was here.”
Yadashka seated herself at the dining table with a red notebook and pen.
”I’m going to invite all of Misha’s friends in town for Christmas. Both of you two, as well, of course. Since I can only have six or eight at a time, I have to divide them into groups. Toshi and Nako, I need to know which dates are convenient for you between December 20th and the 30th . One thing though: Nako, I want you to bring your Chinese vermicelli salad. You’re familiar with my repertoire, aren’t you? White bean soup, cucumbers in sour cream, and a cherry tart.
”How many groups are you planning to invite?”
”Around ten.”
”You’re going to kill yourself if you do ten dinner parties in a month!”
”I want to make Misha happy. It makes me feel alive when he’s happy.”
Nako began to think about the dress she was going to wear to Yadashka’s Christmas party. It was a long crimson red satin dress with a black velvet vest. The vest had a ruffled collar which flowered out in front. And in its center, she would pin a rose-shaped silver brooch which Toshi had bought for her at Jensen’s.
Nako was fed up with being kicked in the head by the Yadashka doll every night, so she decided to place the doll on top of the chest in the living room. Toshi fashioned a stand with some scraps of wood, so that it could stand on its own. He had cut down a kalopanax tree at their house in Izu to use as a pillar in the tea room, highlighting the interesting wood grain and smooth core, using the rest to make the frames for the lattice windows. There were still some pieces left over from that project, and he used them to make the doll stand. The doll looks like a Polish maiden leaning against a slender white birch. For some reason, her sky-blue eyes have turned turquoise. They’re the same color as the cheap turquoise pendant that Nako bought on a whim at a shabby shop while passing through a shabby town a long time ago. Nako glances at those turquoise eyes several times a day as she is helped through the living room. That much she can tolerate.
The morning dew
Will have disappeared in the wind by the evening
The world is but a never-ending dream
Like the thin trailing clouds of autumn
Whispering these words, Nako glances up at the doll’s turquoise eyes from a distance as she goes past.
(Translated from the Japanese by Nukina Yuka)
________________________________
ŌBA MINAKO
Born in Tokyo, 1930. Graduated from Tsuda College. Received both the Newcomer Prize of Gunzo and the Akutagawa Literary Prize for “Sanbiki no Kani” (Three crabs) in 1968. In 1996, she suddenly suffered from cerebellum hemorrhaging and became paralyzed on her left side. Later she miraculously regained her health through the careful nursing of her husband, Toshio Oba, and has since written novels and poems through dictation.
___________________________________________________________________
YADASHKA translated by Nukina Yuka is published in Japanese Literature Today No.25. ©Japan P.E.N. Club. 2000. All Right Reserved. YADASHKA is digitized from its appearance in J.L.T. No.25. ©Japan P.E.N. Club. 2020.