THE HOLE
I moved out here with my husband. At the end of May, we found out about the transfer. His new office was going to be in the same prefecture, but far from where he’d been working. A local branch office out in the country. It was the same area my husband was originally from, so he called his mother to see if she had any ideas about where we could live. “What about next door?” “Next door?” “The other house — the one we’ve been renting out. It just opened up.” Her voice carried so well that I could hear every syllable from where I was sitting. The other house? Why hadn’t I ever heard of this house before?
“A family of four had been living there, but they moved out in April. The Katos. They were so nice. When they left, they came by with a box of the most beautiful sumo mandarins. You met the Katos, right? They had a little boy with curly hair . . .” “No, I don’t think so . . .”
On the memo pad on the table, I wrote SEPARATE HOUSE? I turned the pad toward my husband and he nodded. He grabbed the pen and wrote YES. TWO STORIES. His mother kept talking. “Anyway, they’re gone now. We asked the realtor to find somebody new, but I guess they haven’t gotten any bites. If you want it, I can call tomorrow and ask them to take the ad down. Sound good?” “How’s the rent?” “Well, the Katos were paying 52,000 yen . . . But what do you think? Should I call the agent?” My husband looked at me as if it was my decision. The timing couldn’t have been better. We had to take it. I nodded. The rent was a lot less than our tiny apartment in the city — and we’d have an entire house to ourselves. “Sounds good. We can definitely afford 52,000.” “What are you talking about? You won’t need to pay anything.” “Wait, what?” “Keep your money. Save it, for the future. I mean, we should probably think about taxes. We’ll need to put something in writing, as a formality. Still, I don’t want you paying us rent. We’re family. The loan for that place is paid off now anyway. You know it’s not the newest house, right?” My husband shot me the same look. I didn’t have any issue with that. How could we be anything but grateful? Still, it was strange how I couldn’t seem to picture this house — how big it was, what color it was, what the yard was like . . . I must have seen it while visiting my husband’s parents, but I was drawing a blank. I told myself that my inability to conjure any memory of the place probably meant it couldn’t have been remarkably large or small. For whatever reason, I couldn’t even recall what my husband’s family home looked like. All I could remember were fragments — solar panels on the roof, a handful of trees out front. That was it.
“There’s a parking space, right?” “One. You’re going to need it, too. You know you’ll need a car to live here, right? Otherwise you can’t get around.” “If I drive from there, I can probably make it to the office in under half an hour . . . That should work. But, Mom, are you sure about the rent?” “Well, like I said, we’ll have to sit down and do some paperwork, but really, don’t worry about the money. Alright, it’s settled. I’ll call the agent first thing in the morning, okay?” “Sounds good, thanks. 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.” His mother laughed a little and said, “You two are still young, aren’t you?” It wasn’t like we were newlyweds or anything. Did she really believe my work was that important? I was almost jealous. She’d held on to the same job for most of her adult life and was only a year or two away from retirement. When she gave birth to her son, she only took six months off. And it’s not like they needed the money. She could’ve spent more time at home, but that’s how much she loved her job. I didn’t feel the same way about mine. Although it wasn’t the worst position out there, I’d hardly call it rewarding. I didn’t hate it, but I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there, either. To be honest, the job was a little too demanding, considering how little I was paid. Sure, it was the sort of work anyone could do, but I wasn’t so young or naïve to let that bother me.
My husband placed the receiver in the cradle and smiled. “You heard that, right? What do you think? Too close?” “To what? Your family?” “Well, your mother-in-law.” When he said the word, I almost laughed out loud. I guess I hadn’t thought of her that way. She was better than that. Of course, she wasn’t perfect, but her virtues easily outnumbered her faults. She was warm, caring, and hardworking. I’d probably feel differently about her if we had to live under the same roof, but I could handle being neighbors. “I don’t mind. It sounds like a good situation for us. Besides, who knows how long it’ll take me to find a job up there? If we can get by without paying rent . . .” “Yeah, you’re right about that.” My husband grinned, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and ran his fingers across the screen. “But what about you?” I asked. “Are you okay being that close to home?” We weren’t very far away from his parents as things were, but he’d never seemed too excited about going home for the holidays. My own parents were a bit farther away, which made it relatively easy to get out of family gatherings. Some years, I had to come up with excuses, telling them we were traveling or something like that. “Not at all. At this age, it actually feels right.” “Feels right?” My husband smiled at something on his phone, then glanced up at me. Unlike me, my husband had a lot of friends. I watched his fingers glide over the surface of his phone. He was probably telling some friend about the move. I’m moving into the house next to my parents . . . No rent! “I don’t know. My parents aren’t that young anymore. Who knows how long Grandpa’s going to be around? It’ll be good to be closer to them.” “Yeah . . .” I unmuted the TV and laughter filled the room. I brought the volume down as quickly as I could. On the screen, a group of half-naked people with brown skin were running in a field, chasing after a large animal. I had no idea where they were, but it wasn’t Japan. They had white and yellow markings on their faces and chests. It could’ve been paint — or maybe tattoos. Apparently, the animal belonged to them. It was dragging around some kind of rope tied to its leg. Among the people — all of them in shorts — stood a chubby, pasty-faced Japanese comedian in a grass skirt. “And of course you’re coming with me. Of course you are.” “Does your mom think I’m a permanent employee or something?” “No, she knows you’re not.” His fingers were sliding over his phone with even greater speed. He was probably writing an email. There was a time when I would have wanted to know what he was up to, but not anymore. As long as he wasn’t doing anything sexual or criminal, there was no need for me to get involved.