nodded. “That’s right. The fire guided them to us.”
As Yota carried the lantern onto the veranda and into the tatami room, the aunts came out to greet us.
“Careful now . . .”
“Make sure it doesn’t go out!”
At their urging, Yota proceeded through to the end of the room where an altar had been set up specially for Obon.
Uncle Teruyoshi lit a candle from the flame in the lantern. On the altar were a cucumber and an eggplant, each with four legs made from disposable chopsticks. These represented the horse to bring the ancestral spirits quickly back home and the cow to slow their return to the other world, making them stay longer in the living world. Ami and Yuri had made them that afternoon, knowing the ancestors were on their way.
“There we are,” he said. “The spirits of our ancestors are now here around the flame. Natsuki, when the candle burns down, be sure to replace it, okay? Make sure the flame doesn’t go out. Otherwise the ancestors won’t have anything to guide them, and they’ll be in trouble.”
“Okay,” I said.
I looked at the table and saw that Dad and my uncles had taken their seats and were already drinking sake, while the women rushed around preparing food and serving it up.
My sister and I sat with the other children. On the table in front of us were large serving dishes of edible wild greens and stewed vegetables.
“I want a hamburger!” Yota said loudly, and Uncle Teruyoshi slapped him on the head.
A grasshopper hopped past a plate of soy-simmered locusts on the table.
“Yota, get rid of that.”
Yota deftly caught the grasshopper in both hands and went to put it outside.
“Don’t be silly! If you open the screen, lots of bugs will come in.”
“Okay, I’ll go feed it to a spider, then,” I said, standing up and taking the live grasshopper from Yota. I took it to the kitchen and gently stuck it on a cobweb. It offered no fierce resistance, just fluttered its wings slightly and became tangled in the spider’s silk.
“What a treat for the spider,” said Yuu behind me.
“I wonder if it can eat something this big?”
The spider looked taken aback by the huge prey suddenly caught in its web.
We went back to the table and started eating the locusts. I wondered whether the spider had started eating the grasshopper yet and felt a bit queasy. Still, the locusts were sweet and crispy. I shoved another one in my mouth.
As the night wore on, the house became enveloped in the noisy chirring of insects. Some of the children were snoring, but the creatures outside were a lot louder than we humans.
If you left a light on, however dim, bugs would flock to the window screens, so the rooms were kept in absolute darkness. As I normally slept with a lamp on, I felt a little scared and clutched the quilt close to me. The thought of Yuu sleeping just the other side of the sliding doors calmed me.
Nonhuman lives jostled up against the window. The presence of nonhuman creatures was stronger at night. Strangely enough, though I was a little scared, I felt as though my own feral cells were throbbing.
The next morning my sister threw a tantrum.
“I want to go home!” she screamed. “I hate it here!! I want to go back to Chiba now!!!”
Kise didn’t get on with the other kids in her school. I’d heard from Kanae, whose sister was in the same year, that she’d been dubbed Miss Neanderthal for being so hairy. I wasn’t at the same school as her, but even so I’d been asked, “Hey, you’re Miss Neanderthal’s little sister, aren’t you?”
Often I’d be ready to leave for school before Kise had even emerged from her room. More and more she ended up not going to school at all. She stayed home being comforted by Mom instead.
The summer vacation should have been a welcome break for her, but then Yota had asked an aunt why Kise had a moustache. When the other cousins heard about it they all traipsed in at breakfast to see it for themselves, and she’d flown into a rage.
“Look what happens when you tease girls, Yota. Apologize right now!” an aunt scolded him. He did, but my sister wasn’t impressed.
“Oh dear. She sometimes has fits, too, doesn’t she?” the aunt said, a worried look on her face.
Kise clung to Mom and wouldn’t let go. When she got stressed out she usually threw up. For the rest of the day, she kept complaining, “I don’t feel well. I want to go home!” And by evening, Mom gave in.
“It’s no good. I think she’s got a fever. Let’s go home.”
“I suppose we’d better if she isn’t well,” Dad agreed.
“Cousin Kise, I’m sorry. I really am,” Yota kept repeating. He was on the verge of tears, but she wasn’t having any of it.
“You shouldn’t spoil her so much,” Uncle Takahiro said, and Uncle Teruyoshi chimed in with a soothing voice, “Don’t be in such a hurry. The air’s fresher here, and she’ll feel better after a good sleep. Won’t you, Kise?” But Kise refused to back down, and Mom was at the end of her tether.
“We’re going back in the morning,” she informed me, and all I could do was nod.
Yuu and I had arranged to meet the next morning at six o’clock outside the old storehouse.
“Where are we going?”
“To the graves.”
Yuu looked taken aback. “What are we going to do there?”
“Yuu, I’ve got to go back home today. Listen, I have to ask you something. Will you marry me? Please?”
“Marry you?” he repeated, flustered by my sudden proposal.
“We’re not going to be able to see each other until next year. If you marry me now, Yuu, I’ll manage somehow until then. Please?”
Seeing how desperate I was, he seemed to make up his mind. “Okay, Natsuki, let’s get married.”
We sneaked out of the house and headed for the family graveyard in the rice fields.
When we got there, I took Piyyut out of my shoulder bag and put him next to the offerings.
“Piyyut will be the pastor.”
“I wonder if the spirits will punish us for doing this?”
“I’m sure our ancestors won’t be angry at two people who love each other getting married.”
Since Piyyut can’t speak human, I recited the wedding vows on his behalf. “Swearing on our ancestors, we hereby marry. Yuu Sasamoto, will you take Natsuki Sasamoto as
