A Dictionary of Mutual Understanding by Jackie Copleton Page B

be so defiant, so free? Sato stood on the edge of the platform. He held his hand aloft in a wave and then dived in, disappeared long enough for her to worry for him as she had for the cormorant, but then he appeared in a rush of spray and he made his way back to shore. She walked down the beach until the tide licked her toes. Beige baby flounder, their orange-dotted scales half buried in the sand, charged away with a ripple of their fins. Small waves lapped against her ankles and shins as she made her way deeper. Sato reached her and stood up on the sea floor. Rivulets dropped down his hairless chest as he wiped his face.
    â€˜You’ve never swum at all?’ He said they would start slowly and he told her to lean back and float. ‘Trust me. I’ll catch you, don’t worry.’ She lowered herself down, kicked her feet off the seabed and lay flat. Sato’s two hands held her back and the top of her legs. ‘That’s my kappa. We’ll make a water spirit of you yet.’ She looked up and the sun shone over Sato’s shoulder so that he was little more than a black cloud of a man. She floated and listened to the crackle of unseen coral reefs and the blood pumping in her ears.
‘Jomei moved his hands and cupped them against the side of my chest and thighs, pulled me closer to him until
my torso was pressed against his stomach. Somewhere on the island,
I knew there was life other than the doctor: there was a fisherman anda bucket of sea urchins, a boy and girl and a pile of dead dragonflies, but in that moment, there was only me and Jomei, the sea and a diving platform, and his skin against mine.
’
    Later they sat on the rocks and stared at the water. ‘You did well today, you’ll make a fine swimmer.’ She thanked him and searched for something to say. ‘It’s kind of you to give up your time.’ He said he was glad of the excuse to come back to the island. He had come here often as a student. Yuko stood up and went to look in a pool, lifting up stones as she searched for signs of life among the seaweed. She glanced up and saw that Sato was studying her.
‘It felt as if he was appraising me. I wonder what he sees. A child? I must seem so half-formed to him.’
He joined her, hunched down, rested his arms on his knees. ‘So what do we have here?’ They peered into the shallows at a crab scuttling sideways, yellow-and-black periwinkles, red anemones shiny as eyeballs, shrimp and even a tiny blue starfish. ‘It’s like staring into childhood,’ he said. Yuko wanted to tease him. ‘I thought Japan didn’t need poets?’ He smiled and she saw him look at the scar on her leg. ‘It’s ugly, yes?’ He disagreed. ‘Treat it like a map of your life. You know, you should ride a bicycle. One accident shouldn’t stop you. Your mother was always so careful.’ This surprised her. ‘You knew Mother?’
    â€˜Not well,’ he answered. Curiosity led Yuko to the next question.
‘I asked why my parents had never mentioned him before Father arranged my appointment at the hospital. He said Mother didn’t like him. I asked why. She thought he had been a bad influence on Father when they were younger. Was he? He nodded his head in agreement but he did not laugh as I had expected. Next he had aquestion for me. Why had I not told my parents about the swimming lessons? I ran my hand down the scar and told him the truth. I didn’t want them to say no.’
    When they met the following week at the ferry terminal, he was waiting with two bicycles. She held her hand to her mouth to stifle the laughter. ‘I can’t ride.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t believe you. Here, take this one, we’ll try when we reach Iōjima.’ Her first attempts made her squeal in terror and delight but soon enough she could stand on the pedals, her arms straight, hot air on her face, the sun on her hair.