Something Strange Across the River Read Online Free

the street I’d just come up. The rambling old towns, empty lots, and developing areas could all be seen. On the other side of the river, corrugated iron roofs spread out in all directions, broken here and there by the towering chimneys of the baths, all of it cast in the glow of the setting summer sun. At one end of the sky the colors of sunset grew weaker and colder as they drifted away. The moon shone bright, as if night had already come. Between the iron roofs, in the gaps that showed the streets, neon signs crackled to life, and the echoes of radios clicking on here and there rose up from the town.
    I sat on a stone until darkness fell, but soon all the lights came on in the windows under the embankment, lending me a clear view into the untidy workings of the second floor rooms. My footprints were still just visible between the grasses, and I followed them back down the embankment wall. The square surrounding Tamanoi, for at least a block, was filled with people bustling between the ever-expanding rows of shops. Glowing lanterns stood out over the streets and business. They were scrawled with messages of “Thru Street,” “Safety First,” “Keisei Bus Shortcut,” “Girls Girls Girls,” and “Nigiwaihon Street.”
    I took a stroll around to breathe in the surroundings before stopping at a little shop that stood behind a post box. I bought some tobacco, paid for it with a five-yen bill, and was waiting for change when it happened. A man in a white half-jacket ran barreling down the street and ducked into an oden shop, hollering “It’s gonna pour!” as he pushed back the curtain. A second later the aproned women and people passing in the streets fell into an uproar rushing into shops and under cover. I had only a moment to wonder what the fuss was about before a sudden wind blew heavily down the street, carrying signs and fabrics with it. There was a sudden, great cacophony of things crashing to the ground. All the papers and garbage of the town were swept up in the sudden gust and rushed down the street like a monster. Shortly after came a sharp flash of lightning, a strobe in the distance, then the soft, rolling thunder came, and finally the heavy, large drops of rain. It had been so clear all day, only to change in an instant.
    A habit has come to me over the years. I never leave the house without an umbrella. No matter how clear the sky may have looked when I stepped from my house, it was the rainy season and so, in keeping with my custom, I was carrying both an umbrella and a handkerchief that day. I was not surprised by the sudden downpour. I simply opened my umbrella and looked out at the sky and town from under its lip. I was making my way down the street, among the crashing globes of rain, when suddenly, from behind me, “Good sir! Won’t you let me under there?” A woman, her neck powdered pure white, thrust her head under my umbrella. The scent of oil made clear that her high, Japanese-styled chignon had been freshly dressed. It was decorated with thin cords of silver. I recalled passing a hairdresser’s shop, its glass doors had stood open.
    The wind howled and brought sheets of rain down the street. There was something pitifully tragic about the thin silver cord coming loose from her neatly tied bun, so I held out my umbrella to her and said, “Go on—I’m in a suit so it doesn’t matter if I get wet.”
    In truth, I was embarrassed to be seen sharing an umbrella with her there, in the light of the shops for all to see.
    “Oh? Thank you! It’s just over there,” she said taking the handle of the umbrella. She rolled up the bottom of her robe and sleeves from the pooling puddles of rain.

Chapter Three
    Lightning flashed in the sky, followed by the low rumble of thunder. In response the woman shouted an affected, “Oh, my!” and reached back to grab my hand (I’d made a point of walking a step or two behind her). “We need to hurry, dear,” she said pulling at me, as if we’d known