Of Shikotsu Ice
Kenji nudges me with his elbow, pointing up the road towards the lake.
Both Satoshi and I follow his gaze, and Satoshi’s face breaks into a wide grin. ‘Stupid old fool!’ Satoshi’s already laughing. ‘He’s at it again, isn’t he?’
Kenji’s looking at Satoshi expectantly, and it’s clear our elder brother is not about to disappoint. We all start to walk towards the object of their merriment, our thick boots crunching in the snow.
The Ice Festival will open in just under a week, and for the next month this town will be alive. This isn’t just the party of the year – it’s basically the only interesting thing that ever happens in this place. Tourists come in from all over, food stalls run day and night, drinks pour well into the wee hours and our parents are far too busy with the guesthouse to pay much attention to anything else. Which, as far as my brothers and I are concerned, is the best part.
‘Why hello…’ Satoshi begins, but is cut off by the whine of a chainsaw from further up the street. All around us the giant blocks of ice cut from Lake Shikotsu are being transformed into amazing works of art. The sculptures get more elaborate every year, enormous creations which sparkle in the sunlight by day, then are illuminated into a neon rainbow fairyland each night.
All, except one, of course.
‘So!’ Satoshi starts again as the sound dims. ‘Let me see… I wonder if I can guess what you are carving this year!’
We are standing in front of one of the smallest ice blocks, set up in the same place it always is, up on the rise that overlooks the lake, well away from the main area. It’s being worked on by the only person carving without any assistants, using crude old hand tools that seem as ancient as he does. No radio playing, no beer cans stashed in the snow, no smile on the man’s face. Just like always.
‘What could it be?’ Satoshi’s voice drips with fake wonder, as he rocks back on his heels staring at the blue ice. ‘A race car, perhaps?’
‘No, a dragon!’ Kenji counters.
‘No, a giant dick!’ Satoshi and Kenji both erupt into laughter, but I don’t join in. Unlike my older brothers, I’m afraid of old man Yamamoto. And he is staring at me. Hard.
‘It’s a lifeboat’ Yamato states simply, his coal black eyes fixed on me still.
‘Of course it’s a lifeboat.’ Satoshi snarls, clearly annoyed he’s gotten no rise from the old man. ‘That’s all you ever make. The same crummy lifeboat every damn year. It’s boring and stupid and no one even comes to look at it!’
‘Yeah,’ Kenji pipes up. ‘You don’t even light it at night!’
A small, dark smile finds the corners of Yamamoto’s mouth. He finally turns away from me, and fixes a cold glare at both my brothers.
‘This lifeboat is not made for the likes of you.’
The noise of the chainsaws starts up again, making me jump.
‘Come on!’ I hiss under my breath, grabbing at Satoshi’s arm. ‘Let’s just go!’
‘Fine’ Satoshi concedes, shaking free of my grasp. ‘Enjoy your lifeboat, you silly old man.’
‘Hope it saves you from drowning in your own stupidity!’ Kenji adds, and they both laugh.
As we head back towards the village, a sharp gust of wind rises up from off the lake, and I can’t help but notice the boys don’t seem to shiver from it like I do.
The next few days pass quickly. After school, we roam the village, watching the different shapes emerge from the blocks of frozen lake water, debating amongst us which our favourite will be this year. Soon enough, it’s the evening before the festival officially opens, and everyone comes out to celebrate with the artists and workers, admiring the finished sculptures bathed in coloured light.
We wander around amid the adults toasting each other’s hard work until we find ourselves again at the far edge of the village. The night is clear and the moon shines brightly, giving the frozen lake an eerie silver glow. Up the hill we can only just glimpse the reflection off Yamamoto’s carving.
‘Do you think he finished it yet?’ I wonder aloud, squinting up towards the top of the hill. ‘It hardly looked done the other day.’
‘Who cares?’ Satoshi snorts back.
‘I want to go see it’ both my brothers look at me, surprised, but not half as much as I am with myself.
‘Don’t be boring’ Kenji finally says, laughing. ‘There’s way better ones than that stupid lifeboat. Besides, it looks the same every year anyway.’
‘Just, let’s go look’ I plead but both boys have already turned to head back to the party.
‘We never do what I want.’ I grumble, stubbornly lingering behind.
‘Go look by yourself then,’ Kenji says back over his shoulder, which makes Satoshi laugh.
I snap back ‘maybe I will!’ and regret it instantly. I’m too afraid to go up alone, and the boys know it.
‘Go ahead! Have fun!’ Satoshi yells back at me without stopping.
Hot tears start to run down my cheeks, but I don’t call out. ‘I’ll show them’ I mutter to myself, angry. I turn back towards the hill and swallow hard. The sounds of the celebration float gently on the cold air behind me, inviting me to run back to my brothers. But the lifeboat seems to be calling me too. I take a deep breath and start to climb the hill.
At the top sits the lifeboat, finished, and the boys were right, it looks just as it always does. It’s simply done, no clever details etched into the glassy surface, but it is still beautiful in the moonlight. The angle of its perch makes the little boat seem to be gliding on the lake below.
I’m so absorbed in the scene I don’t notice the sound his footsteps make until he’s nearly standing next to me.
‘You are too early’ Yamamoto’s voice is soft and low, but I still jump at the sound. ‘The moon is not yet full.’
Without thinking, I glance at the sky and blurt out ‘Three more days.’ My cheeks begin to burn crimson the moment the words are out of my mouth. I can’t remember ever speaking to Yamamoto before. He’s staring at me again, but for some reason, I’m not afraid.
‘That’s right. Sunday night the moon will be full’ Yamamoto’s face seems younger somehow, kinder than I remember it to be and the gaze of his eyes is warm. He turns, staring out at the lifeboat and beyond it towards the lake.
We stand, I don’t know for how long, looking at the lifeboat in silence. Eventually, the tiniest of breezes blows past us and I blink, as if coming out of a trance. I look over at Yamamoto and gasp. He’s crying.
‘Do you know why I carve a lifeboat every year?’ he asks me, the tears still rolling down his face.
‘N..no, sir’ I stammer, unsure what to think much less do. But Yamamoto just smiles at me.
‘Would you like to know?’
My heart pounds in my throat and my mouth goes dry. I am suddenly so desperate to learn the secret of Yamamoto’s lifeboat, I can hardly breathe. I bow. I say, ‘yes please sir!’ And I mean it.
Yamamoto just smiles again, tears still shine on his cheeks but no new drops follow.
‘Very good. You have a good heart, we can see that’ he glances out to the lake again. ‘And I am very old now.’ There’s such a sadness in his voice I am afraid he will start to cry again. I say nothing, waiting, but he seems lost in his thoughts, oblivious to my presence. After a few minutes I can take the suspense no longer and clear my throat. Yamamoto blinks and looks at me, but the warmth has vanished from his eyes.
‘It’s late. Go home’ he says gruffly, turning his back to me completely. Then, more gently, he adds ‘come back when the moon is full.’
As the sun begins to set on Sunday, my nerves start to go. I debate telling my brothers the story, asking them to come with me, but eventually think better of it. I can barely eat at dinner, my stomach is so twisted, but no one seems to notice. Once the house is quiet, I ease out from under my covers. The air is very still and nearly silent as I close the door behind me as gently as I can. I’ve never snuck out of the house on my own, but I’ve gone with my brothers enough to know how to do it without getting caught.
My footsteps seem very loud in the snow as I crunch my way towards the hill. The village is quiet and the coloured lights are all off now, but I still shy away from the main street to avoid any late night boozers heading back from the bars.
By the time I reach the foot of the hill the moon has risen nearly straight above me, bathing the path in a clean, cold light.
The sound of my heartbeat is loud in my ears, small clouds of steam rising in front of my face with each exhale. At the top sits the lifeboat, the ice an almost iridescent blue in the moonlight. Yamamoto is nowhere to be seen.
I stand still a moment, catching my breath. In my excitement, I nearly ran up the hill, and the cold air has left my lungs stinging. As my breathing slows, I scan all around me, towards the village, and down the back road in the direction of Yamamoto’s house, but the moon is only so bright. A sinking feeling is creeping into my gut. Was it some cruel joke, this invitation?
I pull my phone out of my pocket, pushing the side button until the lock screen lights up. 23:01 reads the clock in bright large numbers. Sighing, I lower the phone away from my face and my blood turns cold in my veins.
There’s a woman in the lifeboat.
Her back is towards me, the pure white of the wedding kimono she’s dressed in glowing brightly against the dark night behind her. Her hair is almost completely hidden by the large head cover, but a few black wisps peak out just at the nape of her neck.
I stare at her, more afraid than I have ever been in my life.
Footsteps on the snow sound from behind me and I look over to see Yamamoto ascending from the back road. Yamamoto says nothing, but comes to stand next to me, very close to me, and smiles softly, then turns to gaze at the woman. He’s calm and I relax a little, desperately glad that he’s here.
For a few moments, we just stand there, the only sound that of our breath making soft mist in the freezing air. I look at the woman, then at Yamamoto, then back again. Yamamoto doesn’t take his eyes of her at all, barely even blinking. She stays motionless, facing the lake.
‘She was to be my bride’ his voice is quiet, but seems loud against the stillness that’s been building. ‘We were both so young.’
The woman doesn’t seem to hear him. Or if she does, she doesn’t show it. She just sits in the lifeboat, unmoving, as Yamamoto continues.
‘It’s different now, so maybe you cannot understand, but back then, you wouldn’t dare marry if both families did not approve’ Yamamoto’s face flushes with an old anger, long held. ‘Her father, he… well…’ as quickly as it rose, the flush vanishes. ‘We were angry at him. At all of them. We loved each other. We wanted to be together. But we couldn’t. At least,’ a small sob escapes his throat. ‘At least not in this life.’
In the lifeboat, Yamamoto’s long-dead bride does nothing.
‘We were meant to do it together’ his lips are quivering now, but his voice is still steady. ‘I did go in the water too. I had every intention of letting the lake swallow me as well.’ Tears are running in streams down his face, dripping off his chin. ‘My lungs were burning, my vision was going black. I panicked. Suddenly I was at the surface and I was breathing, clinging to the edge of the little boat we had rowed out in. And she was gone.’
My head is swimming. A thousand thoughts swirl up in my mind. Old man Yamamoto, unmarried. Old man Yamamoto, who carves a lifeboat every year. Old man Yamamoto, who everyone knows, but no one seems to know much about.
‘She gets a bit fainter every year, it seems’ Yamamoto’s tears have stopped, but the sadness in his voice is still painful to hear. ‘But she still comes.’ He turns to look at me for the first time since he started to speak.
‘I’ve never told anyone this. Never let anyone near the lifeboat when the moon’s been full’ he stares at me, studying me so hard I squirm. ‘But you remind me of her so much. Your face, it’s just like hers.’ He turns back towards the boat and his voice drops to barely a whisper. ‘She won’t look at me. She never does…’ Yamamoto trails off and the hill is silent once more.
Time slips past unchecked for what feels like hours, but can be no more than 10 minutes. I stare at Yamamoto, at the lifeboat, at the lake.
‘Enough’ the gruffness has returned to his voice once more. ‘Enough. Leave now.’
I don’t argue. I turn and flee.
‘If you still want to see that stupid lifeboat, you better go look’ Satoshi says to me as we walk home from school the next day.
Thrown, I don’t dare to look at him, instead concentrating on keeping my voice totally calm as I ask ‘why do you say that?’
‘Because this is the last chance to see it. They found old man Yamamoto sitting out in front of it this morning. He was dead.’
Contest details:
Contest: NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2015, Round 1
Genre: Ghost Story
Subject: A lifeboat
Character: A bride
Score: 2nd place