Strange Light Afar by Rui Umezawa Read Free Book Online

are quiet now that she’s gone. At least there is a roof over my head. I have clothing and food. I’ve grown comfortable with the peaceful seclusion that might well be the only gift life will ever bestow upon me.
    Then that dog appears out of nowhere.
    Jirobe tells me that the dog took shelter by their door during last month’s storm. Its fur is whiter than snow, so Sakura names it Shiro, which means “white.”
    I’ve never been fond of animals. I hate the way they look at me. My father did not like animals, either.
    The dog grows bigger each week. It runs freely in and out of their house. Shiro goes with Jirobe when he takes his vegetables to the market. I sometimes go with them, carrying what little has grown in my own yard. My brother and the dog play as they make their way down the main street. This slows them down, and I don’t have the patience to wait.
    Jirobe and Sakura fuss over Shiro as if it were their child.
    â€œShiro? Shiro, what’s the matter?” Jirobe frets one day when the dog doesn’t stop barking in their yard.
    I look over the hedge, irritated by the persistent noise.
    â€œI think he wants us to dig here,” Sakura says. Her voice is still as clear as morning dew.
    They do not notice me in my yard. I see Shiro pawing the earth that has just started to thaw after the long winter.
    Jirobe brings a spade and begins to dig as I hold my breath. The hard ground breaks apart in dark, brittle morsels. Shiro keeps barking, wagging its tail, frightening the small birds that have returned with the spring.
    Jirobe digs for a long time. He is old and tires quickly.
    He is about to give up when the spade hits something hard. He pushes his shovel around a large, cracked earthenware pot, and when enough dirt has been cleared, he struggles to lift it.
    Holding it like a fat baby in his arms, he removes the lid and peers inside. His eyes open to twice their size. Stumbling backwards, he drops the container, which shatters when it hits the ground.
    Out spills forth more gold coins than anyone could possibly spend in a lifetime. Sakura puts her hand to her mouth. The dog won’t stop barking, and they still do not notice that I’m watching. They gather the gold in their arms and scurry into the house. They don’t bother to refill the gaping hole in the ground.
    Satisfied, the dog falls silent and sniffs at what remains of the pot before lifting a leg and urinating on it.
    Darkness falls early. The cold air gnaws at my toes and fingers. I don’t hear the usual laughter from next door. The silence is warming, and my futon is thick and comfortable, but I can’t sleep. Questions dance in my mind. I think of my father. I finger the scars on my shoulders.
    He never hit Jirobe. Something hot wells behind my tired eyes and the question inevitably becomes “Why?”
    Why?
    In the morning, I run to my brother’s house. Jirobe and Sakura seem not to have slept much, either. I ask meekly if they would lend me their dog. I say I wish to get rid of a few stray cats in my yard.
    They don’t mention what they found in their yard the day before. Their secret makes them comply without a fuss.
    Once home, I bribe the dog with leftovers from last night’s supper. I compliment it on its beautiful fur and on its cleverness. Shiro seems indifferent and ungrateful. It eats the food but pulls away when I reach out to touch it. It betrays mild curiosity when I motion for it to follow me out back.
    I take hold of my spade and tell Shiro to direct me to where my treasure is buried. To where my father must have hidden my share.
    To my surprise and delight, Shiro goes to a secluded corner of the yard and paws the ground.
    Anticipation drives the shovel deep. My arms tire quickly, but Shiro’s incessant barking eggs me on.
    The spade finally hits something hard. My happy cry is heard only by the dog and the wind. I don’t bother lifting the earthenware pot from the