Chapter 29
Doctor Ikeda shakes hands with both of Naoyuki’s parents in turn. “Hello, my name is Ikeda. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He follows Mrs. Kondo as she leads him to the couches and armchairs in the front room and gestures for him to take a seat. Doctor Ikeda does so and takes a sip from the cup of tea on the table top. “So Naoyuki is...?”
“Upstairs, doing homework,” Mr. Kondo replies curtly as he and his wife sit down on the opposite sofa.
“That’s fine for now,” Ikeda says, setting the teacup back down. He glances to and fro around the room. “Let me explain something to you before we begin,” he says. “Kazunori took Naoyuki on as a subject for an assignment he was doing for my class at the college. Because Naoyuki is his cousin, he has many insights into the child’s situation that I lack; however, I’ve been well informed of the basics of the picture.” He takes another sip of his tea and looks around again. “Surprisingly, I see very few photographs of Naoyuki. That is because you left your previous house to your son's tutor, Shizuyo Matsuda, after she registered as his guardian, correct?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Kondo replies uneasily. “We didn’t want to leave too much out of place for Naoyuki’s sake. So we left our photos so that he could have them.”
“And you left your previous home because...?”
“That is a personal matter,” Mr. Kondo snaps.
Ikeda removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes. “Mr. Kondo, Mrs. Kondo, you must understand that if I am going to make a connection with Naoyuki and subsequently help him, I will need to know his personal circumstances. Your ‘personal matters’ play a part in his life – an integral part that I need to be able to comprehend. I need to know him, literally, inside and out. If you can’t deal with that, then I won’t be able to help him – not really. Any changes will only be superficial.” Ikeda puts his glasses back on and rests his chin on his hands. “So I will ask you difficult questions. I will pry into your private lives. Tell me now if you cannot handle that, and I will leave.”
“No, Naoyuki needs your help desperately,” Mrs. Kondo pleads. “Please, don’t go. We can tell you what you need to know.”
“All right,” Ikeda says. “Let’s start with something a little easier, then; we’ll gradually ease into this instead of diving in headlong.” A picture of Ikuo catches Ikeda’s eye. “Who is currently living with you?” he asks.
“Naoyuki and our adopted son, Ikuo,” Mrs. Kondo replies.
“I see.” Ikeda takes a clipboard and a sheet of paper from his briefcase, then pulls a pen from his coat pocket. As he questions them further, he begins jotting notes. “I understand that Naoyuki’s current residence with you is a recent development. Was it also unexpected? What were the circumstances?”
“Naoyuki arrived here.. a little over a month ago, now,” replies Mrs. Kondo. “His caretaker and Kazunori were with him when he came, but I understand that Naoyuki originally had two of his friends from school traveling with him, instead. Shizuyo and Kazunori had picked Naoyuki up halfway here. From the scene of a car accident...”
“Is that so?” Ikeda inquires. He makes a special note of that. “We’ll go from there, then. What happened to the others in the car? Along with the three children, surely there must also have been an adult?”
“I don’t know about the person who was driving the car,” Mrs. Kondo explains, “but Naoyuki’s two friends were injured. The girl is in the hospital in a coma.”
“So the car that Naoyuki and his friends were in was significantly damaged,” Ikeda surmises. “It was a serious accident. Taking that into account, it’s most likely that the driver was also injured. Naoyuki may have seen some very unsettling things in that accident. Have you and he talked about it?”
“Kazu asked the same thing,” Mrs. Kondo says. “I tried to talk to Naoyuki about it just yesterday, but...he disappeared off into the bathroom, and when I went to check on him after a while, he was in there banging his head against the edge of the sink. He just about knocked himself senseless.”
Ikeda pauses. He jots that down as important, underlines and circles it. “Have you noticed any abnormal changes in Naoyuki’s behavior aside from that?”
“That boy’s behavior is always abnormal,” Mr. Kondo mutters.
“Please elaborate,” Ikeda presses, jotting down his statement in verbatim.
“He’s spoiled, in a word,” Mr. Kondo complains. “He can’t put serious effort into anything, including his school work. He’s also disobedient. When he’s disciplined, he throws tantrums. As for his speech, for the past three years – ”
“ – many of his peers and teachers have believed him to be mute. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Has that changed since he arrived?”
“He talks,” Mrs. Kondo replies, “but as minimally as possible.”
Jotting down little details, Ikeda asks, “Is there anything else out of place about him?”
“Kazunori drew attention to Naoyuki having nightmares,” Mrs. Kondo answers. “When he first got here, Naoyuki was constantly waking up during the night, screaming. He hadn’t done that in a long time, so I thought he’d stopped having those nightmares, but...on and off for the past week or so, Naoyuki’s been waking up with nightmares again. Kazunori kept throwing around the term PTSD – said that Naoyuki might have it to an extent. And then, in addition to that, Naoyuki occasionally has panic attacks, as well.”
Ikeda caps his pen. “Panic attacks and nightmares would seem to point to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” he tells Naoyuki’s parents. “He doesn’t talk about the accident, though, despite the fact that it’s obviously something he needs to let out in some manner – I suspect that’s the cause of his tantrums and his inability to concentrate on school.”
“No, he’s been throwing these tantrums for a long time,” Mr. Kondo corrects Ikeda. “All our family was abuzz about his odd behavior – not talking, throwing a fit any time anyone laid a finger on him – He was quite troublesome to deal with.”
“Of course,” Ikeda thinks aloud. “Kazunori did detail that in his research paper – though he said nothing of ‘tantrums’. That, though, means that his ‘tantrums’ are brought on when he is touched – in other words, feeling invaded in some way. His actions are defensive.” And yet... he’s inflicting harm upon himself intentionally? This doesn’t match up. What benefit is it to him to injure himself? “Which leads to another question: why is he now deliberately injuring himself? What has changed?” Mrs. Kondo and her husband sit speechless. “His environment has changed,” Ikeda says, “his family has changed, his circumstances have changed, his world has changed. Something in here,” he says, pointing to his own head, “has changed along with it. But why such a negative turn?”
Mrs. Kondo flits a furtive glance at her husband.
“First the accident. Then a chain reaction of somethings from there. No. This goes farther back if he’s maintaining some of the defensive behavioral patterns that he acquired after you left him – his minimalist speech patterns and his fits at being touched, both signs of keeping other people out – despite his reunion with you. But the key is the accident. And the friends who were injured there – a contradiction to his previous pattern of keeping others out.”
“You keep saying that the boy is ‘keeping others out,’ but in reality, I believe it’s the new friend he has at his new school who is influencing him negatively. She’s making excuses for his disobedience and probably allowing him to be casual about school, as well – !”
“A friend?” Ikeda asks, his interests piqued. “A girl?” He recalls the girl who was with Naoyuki that day after school when he’d knocked his head against the wall. “Soejima? Middle school first-year Taki Soejima?”
“Yes, Taki was her name,” Mrs. Kondo replies. “She helps Naoyuki with his homework in study hall. He’s been making good progress because of her.” She gives her husband a sidelong glare. “And the two of them seem to get along very well.”
Ikeda uncaps his pen again and jots down Taki’s name and a few more notes. “How much do you know about how Naoyuki gets along both academically and interpersonally in his new school environment?” he questions the Kondo couple, keeping in mind that Naoyuki was falling behind in his work, as Mr. Kondo had indicated, despite the fact that Mrs. Kondo said he was progressing. They’re divided in their perceptions of Naoyuki’s performance – in addition, it would appear, to many other things concerning him, he thinks as he evaluates the small cues they’d been giving off throughout the conversation.
“The boy’s grades are something to be ashamed of,” Mr. Kondo gripes. “How will he get into a good school at the rate he’s going?”
“Naoyuki works hard. And he seems to get along well with most people at school – with the exception, of course, of the occasional bully,” Mrs. Kondo says.
Ikeda caps his pen loudly over the table. “You’re contradicting each other. Mrs. Kondo, your husband said that ‘Naoyuki can’t put serious effort into anything,’ but you are saying that he works hard. Mr. Kondo, you said that Naoyuki’s friend is a negative influence on him, but your wife said that Soejima is helping him progress. I know, as his teacher, that Naoyuki is still far behind in his work, but getting help in study hall, perhaps from Soejima. Mrs. Kondo, you said that Naoyuki is occasionally bullied; however, I know, as his teacher, that he is a constant target of bullying – more often verbal than physical, from what I understand,” he says. “In other words, then, Naoyuki doesn’t speak to you about school. You make your own assumptions based on passing glances – report cards, things you see when you pick him up from school. Neither of you has an accurate picture of what his life at school is like.” In which case, Ikeda concludes, it appears I need to talk to Soejima, as well. “Not to say that I do, either, even as his teacher. In reality, as I only know him in my class and from what Kazunori tells me, I also have a very limited picture of Naoyuki’s life.”
“What you say is true,” Mrs. Kondo admits. “Naoyuki doesn’t talk to us about what happens to him in school. We know very little. I hadn’t thought about it this way until now, but... perhaps, all this time, Naoyuki’s been a stranger living in our home. The only time he talked to me – really talked to me – was when he arrived the first day and told me how much he missed me and how glad he was to be with us again.”
Ikeda pushes his glasses up on the ridge of his nose. “I would like to see Naoyuki now,” he requests. “Just for a few minutes today, the first day.” Mrs. Kondo gets up from the sofa and starts off and up the stairs.
“If this is what you call ‘easier’ for us, then what kind of questions are you going to ask as this starts rolling?” Mr. Kondo gripes.
“I told you. I’m going to pry – that’s a given. It’s the only way I can help your son,” Ikeda replies. “If you want a sample of ‘tougher,’ I’ll ask you this: why do you consistently refer to your own son as ‘that boy,’ as if he were somehow separate from you? I can see already that some of Naoyuki’s determination to stay distant from others comes from you.”
“Are you accusing me – ?!”
Mrs. Kondo returns down the staircase with Naoyuki in tow. She brings him before Ikeda and has him sit at the end of the couch, next to her. Naoyuki stares up at his teacher anxiously, uncomfortably.
“Hello, Naoyuki,” Ikeda greets him, hoping to put him at ease. The attempt didn’t seem to work. “I want to ask you for a favor,” he says. He pulls a few sheets of blank paper from his briefcase and sets them on the table in front of Naoyuki. “Can you draw me a picture?”
Naoyuki looks up at him, looking a little surprised, but mostly confused. He came here to ask me that? Why? What was he talking about with Mama and Papa for so long?
“I understand that you’re very artistic,” Ikeda says. “Kazunori told me that you made a very nice bracelet for his sister. Do you also like to draw? If so, I’d like a picture or two. Sign your name on the bottom of them. Bring them to school and give them to me tomorrow, okay?” Naoyuki nods and reaches out to take the paper.
The bandages on Naoyuki’s hand catch Ikeda’s eye. “Can you draw with that hand? Ikeda inquires. He watches Naoyuki quickly take the paper and pull his hand back. “May I ask how that happened?” Ikeda presses. He gets no reply. He’s tight-lipped at school as it is, but even more so when personally asked questions, I see. Is it just me? Or is he the same way with his parents? Mrs. Kondo said that he only really talked to her once. Otherwise, he’s like a stranger – and he may treat them as if they are strangers, too. Ikeda heaves a sigh. “Well, if your hand isn’t bothering you too much, I’d like to see your artwork tomorrow.”
He gets up from the couch, nods to the Kondo family and walks to the door, taking another look around the house. Neat, tidy furniture. A few photos. Little shoes for two little sons. On the surface, it appears pleasant; but Ikeda sensed a lot of tension and dissension boiling between each of the Kondos. Mr. And Mrs. Kondo disagreed and contradicted each other. Mr. Kondo expressed blatant disapproval of – maybe even hatred toward – his own son. Naoyuki was keeping his parents in the dark about what was happening in school as well as about the circumstances leading up to his arrival at their house – he was treating even his own parents as outsiders. And the adopted son? Where did he play into this equation? “Shall our next appointment be at the same time next week?” Ikeda calls back as he slips into his shoes and opens the door.
“Yes,” Mrs. Kondo replies. “That sounds good.”
“Next time, I’d like to see your whole family,” Ikeda says. “Remember to have Naoyuki and Ikuo downstairs as well next week.”
“All right,” Mrs. Kondo agrees.
“I’m off. Enjoy your afternoon,” Ikeda calls as he steps outside. He gently closes the door behind him. “In the meantime,” he thinks aloud as he crunches through the snow toward his car, “it looks like I have some digging to do.”
