The Hole

by Hiroko Oyamada

Asahi’s going to need to quit her job, so anything we can save on rent will really help.” “Asa’s quitting?” his mother asked. Her voice was lower now, but just as audible. “Of course. That commute would never work.” “Oh, I know, but what if she stayed there and you moved out here on your own? I mean, this is her job we’re talking about.” My husband looked at me again; I shook my head. If he’s moving, I’m moving. End of story. I’m not even a permanent employee. It’s not the kind of job that’s worth holding on to. My husband nodded at me, then said, “We’ll make the move together.”

Husband assumes his wife coming with him and will quit her job

The extra work had to be done — by us, the nonpermanent employees. We were both putting in overtime, even though it wasn’t in our contracts. We were even handling tasks outside of our job descriptions —

Salary woman

It was horrible being worked to the bone, but there was no guarantee that she’d find anything better elsewhere.

We’re going to live in a house that my husband’s family owns.” “Wait, seriously? You mean you’re going to be a housewife?” Her eyes opened even wider. “Look at you!” “Look at what?” “You, Matsuura-san. Living the dream. You won’t have to work. You’ll be free to look after the house, bake, do a little gardening . . . That’s the life.”

But is this the life that she wants?

“Okay, not yet. But once you move and you have some time on your hands, I bet you’ll get pregnant in no time. You have to tell me, okay?

Her ffriends fantaasy

Let’s face it. We’re corporate slaves. I mean, we’re not even permanent.”

Sometimes, just sometimes, when my boyfriend gets home before me, I wish that he’d have dinner waiting for me. Does your husband ever make you dinner?” “Not really. I mean, he would, if I asked . . . But, how can I put it . . .” While I searched for the words, she faced the mirror, glared at herself, and said, “Oh, I get it. Believe me. I never say anything either. I think it — but I never say it. Like, ‘Come on. It’s your turn.’ Sometimes I wonder what’s stopping me. Maybe I’d feel better about it if I had a permanent position. Maybe not. I don’t know . .

Equal roles

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m sure it was just the packing. That kind of work takes more out of us women.

The movers started unloading and Tomiko took command immediately.

Bossy?

As always, my husband’s mother was extremely well prepared. She had brought over a cooler stocked with plastic bottles of tea and vitamin water. She also had a few big bags with towels, duct tape, a tape measure, and some other useful items. She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a blue package with SIR GRIPS-A-LOT printed on the front. She handed it to the movers and asked, “You know how to use these, right? With anything heavy — the fridge, things like that — just slip these under it, nice and tight.”

Backseat driver

Tomiko was still working. I could hear my husband laughing. Tomiko dabbed at the sweat forming on her forehead. “He should be in charge of this. Well, I guess we’ll have to sort things out without him. Okay — how about putting the dresser upstairs?”

Male role

Looking out the big window, I saw a garden that couldn’t have been more than ten feet wide. I didn’t see any plants, only some puddles and a few holes that appeared to be man-made. Maybe the Katos took their plants with them when they left —

the animal!

For a second, I thought I saw a person standing in the trees, but when I tried to get a better look, nothing was there.

the brother in law

For a second, I felt as though we’d moved someplace far away, a place where the days and seasons follow an entirely different rhythm. The Scandinavian midnight sun came to mind, but we hadn’t left Japan. We

I cracked the window open, and the buzz of brown cicadas filled the room. Cicadas. The first I’d heard this year. And with that, the rainy season was brought to an unceremonious end. Summer had arrived.

Atmosphere

My husband took the car to work every morning, so the only way for me to get around was to walk or take the bus. Except during rush hour, the bus came only once every sixty minutes, and it was a forty-minute ride to the train. And I wasn’t desperate to meet up with old friends or go shopping, so I ended up staying home most of the time.

Isolated

Once we’d finished moving in, I felt like a kid on summer vacation: no homework, no plans. I started looking for a job, but I was having trouble getting around.

I’d wake up a little before six, pack my husband’s lunch, make his breakfast, see him off, go shopping, clean the house, or maybe run the laundry — but, after that, I didn’t have anything to do. Living the dream? Really? It was weird to think about how, until now, I’d been working from morning till night. That life didn’t seem real anymore.

Routeen

The hours moved slowly, but the days passed with staggering speed. Soon I lost all sense of time. I didn’t have any appointments or deadlines. The days were slipping through my fingers.

Time

How could I allow myself to nap in air-conditioned bliss when my husband was sweating at his desk?

Men wont reciprocate such gestures

It’s really hot out there, Asa. Be careful, okay?

I slid open the door to the altar room. Sunlight was shining through the shoji. Inside, a brown paper rectangle was waiting on the low table. I looked inside. Everything was there — the money and the slip.

“I can really see the resemblance.” “Between..?” Unsure of what to call the woman in front of me, I gestured at her with my right hand. “Between her and me?”

Incesty

As I started to walk, it seemed like nothing around me was moving. The trees were as still as in a photograph, and the windows of all the houses were shut tight. There were no people around. No cats, no dogs, no crows. There wasn’t a single sparrow in the sky. My eyes were tingling from the heat.

The dry grass almost smelled baked. There was a big pile, brown and wet, on the path in front of me, probably left by a dog. On top of it were a couple of silver flies. For them, it was a mountain of food. It got me wondering — what would it feel like to sink your limbs and face into your lunch like that? Even the flies weren’t moving. Maybe they were dead, knee-deep in dog crap. I kept an eye on the path as I walked. I passed a half-eaten Cup Noodles,

There were no birds, no dogs, no cats — just this black animal.

couldn’t hear the river or the cars. After some time, the animal turned toward the river, cutting through the tall grass in a spot that had been well trampled. Without thinking, I did the same.

I fell into a hole. It was probably four or five feet deep, but I’d managed to land on my feet. I looked around the grass — now at eye level — but the animal was nowhere to be found. I heard the grass rustling nearby, but before long the sound stopped.

The hole felt as though it was exactly my size — a trap made just for me. The bottom of the hole was covered with something dry, maybe dead grass or straw. Looking toward the river through a break in the grass, all I could see was white light.

Cicadas cry to find a mate. They hear other cicadas crying around them and use what they hear to choose a partner. To my human ear, they sounded like a bunch of machines, a spray of emotionless noise. Maybe that’s how we sound to them, too.

“Um, I’m okay. I just fell in.” “Do you want help?” She reached down with her free hand. Her wrist was thin. “No, I’m fine. I can manage.” “Are you sure?”

I felt something sting my hand.

Near the top of my ring finger was a small red beetle, biting into me.

“You’re the bride, aren’t you?” The bride? How was I supposed to answer that?

So, um, are there lots of holes around here? I didn’t see it — I just fell in.” “I really couldn’t tell you, but my son would know. He’s always out here, playing by the river. Then he comes home covered in mud and bugs . . . I only came this way because I thought I might find him here. It was the strangest thing.

I waved back, then followed the river home.

The back of the blue shirt he always wore to sleep was so wet it looked almost black.

Samee as riveer.....

Maybe there wasn’t anywhere for him to eat around his office. Or maybe he was eating at home for me — for my benefit. Either way, it didn’t matter how late it was when my husband came home. That’s when he ate. For the most part, I was happy with this arrangement. I think I’d feel guilty if he ever said, “I don’t need dinner tonight.” I’d probably feel like something was missing, like I wasn’t holding up my end of the bargain. Not long after the move, I asked him if he ever got hungry working that late without dinner. He told me there were snacks at work — nothing substantial, but enough to hold him over.

Contempating her role

There was a small, hard lump on my finger where the bug had bitten me. It felt hot. I put a bandage over it and went to sleep.

Kafkaesque? Or is it more like get out?

There he was, hose in hand, watering the plants in the middle of the rain.

I’m from the city originally. About twenty years ago I got married and came here. A little longer, maybe. Back then, this place was literally the middle of nowhere.

Looking at her future self

I had to work. Even if I couldn’t find a job, I had to do something.

If you had a child, you’d have your hands full, believe me . .

Having a child would change things, but it wasn’t exactly the change I was looking for.

In the bushes beyond the sun, a black shadow blinked. A pair of bright yellow circles closed, then opened again. A large, round frog.

Dark animal motif 3

As I looked at the garden, now reduced to mud, I saw a black animal coming toward the gate. Its face was strangely long and pointy. Its yellow eyes were trained on me. A few stray drops from Grandpa’s hose splashed across its snout. The animal jumped a little, then quickened its steps.

I could make out hind legs and a short tail, only for a moment, before the animal vanished.

The man was crouching down, his arm shoved through one of the open blocks.

“Right, right. Your brother-in-law. That’s who I am. Nice to meet you.” All of a sudden, I could smell something like freshly mown grass — as though something inside me had cleared. The man looked up at me, showing his teeth in a smile. But I thought my husband was an only child.

Get out? BIg baad wolf?

Then I hijacked the shed! Under the cover of night, of course. It was a real coup, let me tell you. And that’s the way it’s been for twenty years.

Wolf and little pigs