Cricket201905-06

THE NEXT WEEK Makiko found the man with the instrument in
the same place every day. As Makiko passed, he invariably raised his
head and smiled. Not the smile of a stranger, more like the smile of an
old, old friend.
No matter the weather, he always seemed to float in a pool of sun-
shine. The brilliance of his clothes was somehow like the white lily
floating against the night sky, magic and strange.
After school it was Makiko’s turn to sit by her grandfather’s bed and
attend to his needs, while her mother made use of an hour or two to run
errands. He lay quietly under a thin sheet, his eyes gazing at the ceiling.
If only he could get up and walk to where the man was. She knew if
she could just get him to the musician, he would come alive again, just
like when he saw the lily. It would only be for a moment, but it would
be time for them to dance one turn together, to see his eyes sparkle one
last time. As she sat by his bed, holding his hand, she thought about
whether she could get him across the room, to the elevator, out into the
street. Or would it be unkind to make him walk so far?
As the days went by, the desire grew and grew. He must see the
musician. He must dance one last time.
The shinibana continued to bloom, always as pure as the day before,
and there he lay, not yet gone. Makiko’s mother was exhausted from
nursing him, working her job at the library, and keeping the house.
Makiko wanted to ask if Grandfather could walk down to the street,
but her mother’s weary eyes always stopped her.
On a hot afternoon after school, Makiko stood for a long time,
wiping her brow with a handkerchief and watching the man with the
instrument. His pants were a brilliant pansy yellow in the sun. Sensing
her presence, he raised his eyes and flashed a radiant smile just for her.
At that instant Makiko knew she had to bring Grandfather. It was
impossible to run in the crowd, but she made her way forward as fast as
she could. She flew into the apartment building, shifted her feet impa-
tiently in front of the elevator, and dashed through the hall to her own
apartment.
Her mother greeted her at the door, a sad, tired smile on her face.
“He’s gone.”
So Grandfather would not dance after all.