Lurking

Unable to speak, mister Mitamo and Misako stood like scarecrows in a field. I felt awkward standing in the silence, waiting for a response. I knew explaining myself would cause further confusion to the two.

“Just explain it to me again.” Misako said, she caressed her temple as she tried understanding.

“As I said, I think I made these watches.”

“You think? Either know or don’t know if you made them, son.” Mister Mitamo interrupted.

“The problem is, I don’t remember making them.” I explained.

“What?” Misako blurted.

Mister Mitamo and Misako tried to wrap their head around my situation. They stood mouth agape.

“And you don’t remember because-”

“I was in a sporting accident as a teenager, I lost all of my memories from my past. I couldn’t remember my own name when I woke up in the hospital.”

It was the truth. Waking up in a hospital bed, not remembering my name, or my father’s…or mother’s…It was painful, it was difficult, it was troublesome. Imagine trying to piece together your old life but having to trust another person’s word. I relied on my father for every single titbit about myself, the life I lived, who I spoke to, what my hobbies were, everything you can imagine. Years of exposure therapy had no positive effects on me, it was like a block of cinder stood between my consciousness and my memories.

“That sounds like a fairy-tale. How is that even possible?” Misako said.

“I’ve heard of it happening before.” Mister Mitamo replied.

“It was a sporting incident. The doctors said I’m lucky to be alive after such a grave head-injury.” I added.

“But it doesn’t explain…Why do I have the exact same watch as you? If you made these, why would you send one to me?” Misako finished my sentence.

“I do not know…” I trailed off, thinking. “My father said I loved watches from a young age, and that I made this watch when I was fourteen years old.”

“But you only made one watch?” Misako asked.

“Most probably, why would I make a second? And why would that second one end up in Japan of all places?” I added.

“That is most intriguing…” Mister Mitamo trailed off, “A mystery has presented itself to us.”

Pieces of a puzzle were forming in my head. Two watches, made by me, one I kept, and another I gave to a girl in Tokyo? It made zero sense to me at first.

“Have we met before? Like before university, that is.” I asked Misako.

“I would remember you if we had. Besides, I’ve never left Japan.” Misako stated.

To my knowledge, my father said I also never left my home country as a kid, so the theory that we met before I lost my memories was in the gutter. Misako would remember if she had ever spoken to a British boy before.

“When did you get that pocket watch, Ishihara?” I asked Misako.

She placed a hand on her chin, and dug deep into her past to recall:

“I remember receiving this in an unmarked package when I was…”She trailed off, trying to remember.

“When you were what?” I asked.

“When It was my fourteenth birthday…” She concluded.

My eyes shot open, that made no sense to me. ‘What is going on?’ I thought to myself. I rubbed my temple; I could not explain it. I asked Misako her birthday; December 31st, a week after my birthday, December 24th. It did not make sense, my father said I made the pocket watch when I was already fourteen. Misako’s fourteenth Birthday was a week apart from mine, I could not have made a watch in a week, sent it overseas, and given it to Misako in time for her fourteenth birthday. The timeframe was too small.

“Are you sure your father is telling you the truth? What is you didn’t make the pocket watches?” Mister Mitamo enquired.

“I’m sure my father did not lie to me. He said I had it on my person when I was injured. He said he watched me make it at home. Maybe I should call him to ask if I ever made a second one…” I trailed off as Misako gasped. Her eyes wide with surprise.

“What?” I asked.

“Look behind you.” Mister Mitamo said.

In the window viewing the outside of the store, a pair of eyes carefully leered on our conversation. An ape-like presence chilled the atmosphere. Hiroshi’s face was smothered against the shop-glass, his mouth in a wide smile.

“Good evening!” He yelled from outside.

“Go home!” I yelled back.

“I’m bored! Let’s go have a beer! Maybe some Ramen too!”

Misako tugged my shirt to grab my attention.

“Go back with him. I have work right now; we can discuss this later when I get back.” She said calmly.

My eyebrow flinched; I knew what she was up to. Misako was a sly fox feigning a cool-exterior.

“I know what your plan is, woman. You just don’t want to deal with that ape.” I commented.

“Don’t ruin my schemes.” Misako retorted.

I did as Misako asked, Hiroshi and I walked along path in the fading light back home. He sang a tune as he waddled back and forth. I found out that Hiroshi was only twenty but was able to walk into a grocery store and purchase a case of beers with no issue. He’d reminded me his dad was rich, and that his father owned the grocery store.

“You shouldn’t underage drink.” I said as we walked.

Hiroshi laughed with a devious tone.

“I’m not going to drink, you are.” He replied.

“Such a kind friend.”

Hiroshi placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it.

“I know I am the kindest friend. Because I need to see you drunk.” Hiroshi scarily stated.

“What?” I questioned, startled.

“Disregard what I said.” He said without a second thought.

I gripped his shoulder with my palm, I was not going to let his statement go with the wind. I could feel his shoulders jolt from the force of my strength.

“Explain. Now.” I commanded.

Hiroshi whistled nonchalantly, like a schoolboy attempting to avoid his admittance. He then dashed away from me, beer in hand. I would not let him get away, and I chased him down the road. To onlookers, it seemed as though an innocent Japanese citizen was being chased down by a foreigner. I’d hoped no policemen got the wrong idea.

“Why do you want to see me drunk??” I yelled. He laughed manically as our chase continued.

As we neared the boarding house, I took a second to recount the events transpired. Attempting to put the pieces of a puzzle together. But to no luck. There were crucial pieces missing that I needed to uncover.

“Hey, Hiroshi, can I ask you something?” I asked.

“Go for it, pal.” He said, swinging his sweet in the air like a toddler.

“So, you know Misako from like…school, right?”

He looked at me with a careful eye.

“Nope.” He replied.

“Huh? What do you mean…no?” I asked.

“I said what I said. I’ve never met her before.”

“That makes zero sense, Hiro.”

“How? I’m telling the truth, I never met Misako until university.”

I was befuddled. My brain could not comprehend what I’d uncovered. A question did however arise in my head, I needed to ask Hiroshi to confirm my suspicions. I wondered: ‘Did Misako really lie to me? Why would she lie about something like that?’

“What about her family name…Ishihara. Have you heard of it before?” I asked.

“I knew many Ishihara’s, it’s a common name.” He said, twiddling his curly hair.

It was not the answer I expected. I returned to myself, gathering my thoughts. I scathed my brain, looking for a connection between them.

“Why do you ask, should I have known her?” Hiroshi questioned me.

“I don’t know, I might be going insane.” I replied, defeated.

I could feel my hands tremble again. It was unordinary for the tremors to appear two days in a row. I hoped it would not begin to occur more frequently. The hero, Hiroshi, noticed my tremors as I was in thought. Without a second moment, Hiroshi held the case of beers to my face. And with innocent eyes, he spoke:

“Beer?”

“Might as well.” I replied, grabbing the case as we went inside the house.

I’d given up on trying to find answers to a dilemma I did not need in my life. I wanted my university life in Japan to go on without issues or mysteries or suspense, I wanted a calm and quiet final year.

“Go on, drink…Drink…I need to see the drunk David…” Hiroshi said aloud by accident.