A Slight Trick of the Mind by Cullin Mitch

Author:Cullin, Mitch [Cullin, Mitch]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Nan A. Talese
Published: 2005-04-18T22:00:00+00:00

13

AS AT THE Atom Bomb Dome, a high fence surrounded Shukkei-en Garden, put there in order to prevent entrance. Mr. Umezaki, however, was undeterred, and, as had apparently been done by others, he found a fissure in the fence (mangled open with wire cutters, Holmes suspected, and pulled back with gloved hands, creating a wide-enough gap for a body to squeeze through). Presently, they found themselves strolling on the interconnected, circuitous footpaths, which were powdered with a grayish soot and wound around dark, lifeless ponds or the sticklike remains of charred plum and cherry trees. Maintaining a leisurely pace, they often stopped to look off the paths, taking in the burned, fragile remnants of the historical garden—the blackened vestiges of tea-ceremony rooms, a meager grouping of azaleas where once hundreds, possibly thousands, had flourished.

But Mr. Umezaki kept silent about all they observed and—much to Holmes's dismay—ignored whatever questions were asked regarding the garden's previous splendor; moreover, he showed an infuriating hesitation to stay beside Holmes—sometimes walking ahead, or abruptly lagging behind on the paths while Holmes, unaware, went forward. In fact, after getting directions from the women, Mr. Umezaki's mood had turned rather sullen, suggesting some unwanted information had been passed on. Most likely, Holmes imagined, that the garden of his memory had become an inhospitable, restricted domain—a place where public access was now forbidden.

Except, as was soon evident, they were not the only trespassers there. Coming toward them on a path was a sophisticated-looking man—in his late forties or early fifties, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows—holding the hand of a cheerful small boy, who skipped alongside him in blue shorts and a white shirt. As the two approached, the man nodded politely at Mr. Umezaki and spoke something in Japanese, and when Mr. Umezaki replied, he nodded politely again. It seemed the man wished to say more, but the boy tugged at his hand, urging him on, so the man simply continued nodding and walked by.

When Holmes asked what the man had said, Mr. Umezaki shook his head and shrugged. The brief encounter, Holmes realized, had had an unsettling effect upon Mr. Umezaki. Repeatedly glancing over his shoulder, Mr. Umezaki appeared distracted and, walking close to Holmes for a while, gripping the suitcase handle with whitened knuckles, looked as if he had met an apparition. Then, before once more hurrying ahead, he said, “How odd. . . . I believe I have just passed myself with my father, though my younger brother—my actual brother, not Hensuiro—is nowhere to be seen. As you were convinced I was an only child, and having lived the majority of my life without a sibling, I didn't see any point in mentioning him to you. You see, he died of tuberculosis—in fact, he died only a month or so after we strolled this very pathway together.” He glanced back while quickening his steps. “How very strange, Sherlock-san. It was many years ago, and yet now it doesn't seem so distant at all.”

“It is true,” Holmes said.

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