21st Century Literature

Embracing Water by Kaori Ekuni

(An excerpt) Translated by Emi Shimokaw

Every night, Mutsuki stepped out to gaze at the stars before he went to bed. He was convinced the habit was responsible for his good eyesight, 15/20 in each eye. I went out onto the veranda too – not to look at the stars, but to look at Matsuki. I loved watching his face as he gazed at the starlit sky. He had a beautiful face, with short straight eyelashes.

"What're you thinking about?" He asked

"Life," I said. I'd meant it as a joke, but Matsuki nodded seriously. These were my happiest moments –out on the veranda with my husband, a glass of Irish whiskey in my hand, the night air cool against my skin.

But I could never stay out long before I felt the cold.

I hurried back into the warm apartment and came face to face with the purple man. He was a watercolour. Most of his aging face was buried in a big bushy beard. I stood in front of the painting and sang. You see, the purple man liked to hear me sing.

After treating him to two verses of "It's raining tonight, Mr.Moon "I went into the bedroom and plugged in the mottled black and white cord and waited. After a while, I folded back the covers and ran the hot iron over the sheets from one corner of the bed to the other. I didn't hum as I did when I smoothed out wrinkles from my laundry. I focused on what I was doing. This was serious work; speed was the key. It was the one household chore Mutsuki demanded of me.

I briskly pulled backed the covers and unplugged the iron

"Ready!"

Our marriage was ten days old- but explaining our marriage is no simple matter.

"Thanks," Mustsuki said with his usual smile and got in between the warm sheets.

I do translation work from Italian, as a kind of part-time job. Since it was about time I finished up with an interview piece I'd been nibbling at all week, I turned off the bedroom lights, closed the door, and went and sat down at my desk.

I poured myself some whiskey, freely. That deep, rich hue of gold – what a way it had entrancing me.

"Alcoholism? I don't think you need to worry about that about that!" the doctor had dismissed, laughing. "Your liver is fine and your stomach too.

You're having only two or three drinks a day, after all." When I told him I couldn't quit, he quit he got up and patted me on the back. "I'm sure it's a passing fancy. And remember, Jesus thought it all right to take a little wine for your health," he said. ". "I'm giving you some vitamins. Just try to not worry yourself sick,"

"Try not to worry yourself sick," I imitated the doctor out loud, willing my glass. All of a sudden, I felt that I was being watched, I turned around to look: it was the yucca elephantine staring over at me. The "tree of Youth" – the spotted plants bizarre alias – was wedding gift from Kon. With its dense foliage of large, sharp, straight leaves, it seemed eager to pick a fight.

I glared back at Kon's tree and downed the rest of my whiskey.

Mutsuki was already in the kitchen when i woke up.

"Morning. You want me to fry you up some eggs?"

I shook my head.

"An orange maybe?"

"Yes please."

By the time I was back from my morning shower, Mutsuki had done the dishes. On a glass plate had set out for me was an orange, sliced into combo shapes, dripping with juice.

As I sat eating, Mutsuki programmed the heater to keep the room temperature stable and pick out the day's background music for me.

I filled a cup and watered the Tree of Youth. Through the blinds the morning sun drew bright stripes on the carpet. The water sounded delicious as it hissed through the soil.