The Journey Prize Stories 21 by Various Read Free Book Online

regionals, Suzuki sensei kept repeating.

    It was Tatsuo who made me look for my high-school yearbook. At first I tried to ignore him, but he was so persistent I finally gave in and dug out the boxes I kept in storage. The yearbook was at the bottom of the last box, wrapped in tissue paper to protect its white leather cover. I could feel my heart tapping lightly under my ribcage as I turned the pages until I came to the picture of our volleyball team.
    â€œWell,” Tatsuo paused.
    â€œCan you find me?”
    After a moment he wrinkled his brow and shook his head.
    â€œNo? I’m this one,” I said, pointing to my broad, serious-looking face. We were wearing gym shorts and school T-shirts. Our exposed white thighs gleamed like smooth rice cakes.
    â€œWhich one is the spy?” Tatsuo asked.
    â€œWhat do you mean spy? Sayuri?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œShe’s not a spy,” I said sharply. “She was kidnapped.”
    Tatsuo shrugged. “Whatever you say. But don’t you think the whole thing sounds like it’s made up? Like a movie.”
    I didn’t say anything even though I agreed. It
was
like a movie, a bad, stupid movie.
    â€œThis is Sayuri,” I said tapping my index finger on the page. “She’s here.” Sayuri was in the middle of the back row, the tallest girl on the team. The light of the camera flash had struck her forehead at a funny angle, casting a luminous glow over her face and throwing the girls next to her into shadow. Suzuki sensei stood behind our team, her head peering over Sayuri’s shoulder, close enough to rest her chin on Sayuri’s collar. I’d forgotten how young our teacher had been, how young all of us were then.
    Tatsuo and I looked at the photograph in silence.
    â€œIf I suddenly disappeared, what would you do?” he said.
    â€œWhat are you talking about? I’d look for you. I’d search high and low till I found you.”
    â€œNo, I mean, if I disappeared for good. Like her.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous.”
    Tatsuo flipped back and forth through the yearbook, stopping every so often to examine a photo or caption. Finally he handed it back to me. “How come you never looked for her?”
    â€œI did. We all did.” A burning sensation rose in my chest, like a lump of something hot was struggling to get out. “We looked all over but we couldn’t find her.”

    The day before Sayuri disappeared, we played against Nishiwaki High. It was just an ordinary intercollegiate game,but lately whenever we played any other team, Suzuki sensei would get quite worked up. She made me nervous with all her exhortations. “Remember, girls, we’re going for the regionals!” Her cheeks and forehead would glow and her short, wiry hair would stick up like it was charged with electricity. That day was no exception.
    Our opponents arrived by bus before noon. In the previous season, Nishiwaki High had been ranked in the bottom quarter of the league, so we weren’t expecting too much; and in fact they looked like typical farm girls, short and stocky with broad shoulders, sunburned necks, and thick bowed legs. Suzuki sensei greeted them politely, but as soon as they were out of sight she turned around, gave us a big grin, and made a complicated hand signal as if to say we had this game in the bag. I remembered how Sayuri smiled back at her.
    The Nishiwaki girls, however, were by no means as clumsy as they looked. They moved with remarkable speed and co-ordination like one large, nimble spider. It was as if they had spread an invisible net on their side of the court that prevented every ball that came their way from touching the ground. We began making mistakes, and I could feel my arms ache with each volley. Then Sayuri fell. She stumbled as she ran to make a save, and for a few seconds she lay face down on the floor. Suzuki sensei rushed to her side, but Sayuri got up by herself and waved