I set out aimlessly and found myself walking in the direction of the station. I bought a bun at an outdoor stand and fed it to the boy. On a sudden impulse I bought a ticket for Kichijoji and got on the tram. While I stood hanging from a strap I happened to notice a poster with my husband’s name on it. It was an advertisement for a magazine in which he had published a story called “François Villon.” While I stared at the title “François Villon” and at my husband’s name, painful tears sprang from my eyes, why I can’t say, and the poster clouded over so I couldn’t see it.

I got off at Kichijoji and, for the first time in I don’t know how many years, I walked in the park. The cypresses around the pond had all been cut down, and the place looked like a construction site. It was strangely bare and cold, not at all as it used to be.

I took the boy off my back and the two of us sat on a broken bench next to the pond. I fed the boy a sweet potato I had brought from home. “It’s a pretty pond, isn’t it? There used to be many carp and goldfish, but now there aren’t any left. It’s too bad, isn’t it?”

I don’t know what he thought. He just laughed oddly with his mouth full of sweet potato. Even if he is my own child, he did give me the feeling almost of an idiot.

I couldn’t settle anything just by sitting there on the bench, so I put the boy on my back and returned slowly to the station. I bought a ticket for Nakano. Without thought or plan, I boarded the tram as though I were being sucked into a horrible whirlpool. I got off at Nakano and followed the directions to the restaurant.

The front door would not open. I went around to the back and entered by the kitchen door. The owner was away, and his wife was cleaning the shop by herself. As soon as I saw her I began to pour out lies of which I did not imagine myself capable.

“It looks as if I’ll be able to pay you back every bit of the money tomorrow, if not tonight. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh, how wonderful. Thank you so much.” She looked almost happy, but still there remained on her face a shadow of uneasiness, as if she were not yet satisfied.

“It’s true. Someone will bring the money here without fail. Until he comes I’m to stay here as your hostage. Is that guarantee enough for you? Until the money comes I’ll be glad to help around the shop.”

I took the boy off my back and let him play by himself. He is accustomed to playing alone and doesn’t get in the way at all. Perhaps because he’s stupid, he’s not afraid of strangers, and he smiled happily at the madam. While I was away getting the rationed goods for her, she gave him some empty American cans to play with, and when I got back he was in a corner of the room, banging the cans and rolling them on the floor.