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Leaves crunched under Naru’s feet as she bounded ahead of Handa, the plastic bag in her hand flapping in the wind. Handa wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck as a particularly brisk breeze sent a shiver across his skin. Autumn had arrived suddenly with the change of wind direction, the cold, dry southerly blowing away the humid clouds of summer and sending red and orange leaves spinning to the ground. Naru kicked at the thick carpet of dry leaves as she walked, sending the earthy smell of decay into the air. She had swapped her usual sandals in favour of a pair of tatty trainers and was wearing the striped short coat his mother had given her – as clear a sign of the change of season as the orange foliage on the trees.
“Ah, there it is!” Naru pointed to a tree in the distance and put on a burst of speed. Handa dug his hands into his pockets and broke into a shuffling jog.
They came to stop at a tree laden with quivering orange fruits that hung from the bare branches like tiny lanterns. Naru had seen the tree on her adventures yesterday and had dragged Handa across the village in hopes of picking the delicious fruit. Handa looked around, there were no houses around, no sign that the persimmons on the tree belonged to someone else. His gaze trailed up the gnarled trunk of the tree. “How do you know they’re ripe?”
“Yasuba told me, this is the best time fer persimmon pickin’!”
Unconvinced, he sent a text to Hiroshi. “How do you tell if a persimmon is ripe?”
He received a reply barely ten seconds later. “The heck? Why would I know?”
Handa smiled and slid his phone into his pocket. Yeah, he expected as much.
“Sensei!” Naru called, stretching her arms up at the branches above. “I need a boost.”
“Are you going to climb it?” Handa frowned, coming closer. “You don’t need to. Look, I can reach plenty.” He plucked a fruit from a low hanging branch.
“The best fruit is closer to the top!”
“I don’t know about that logic,” he sighed, yet still he knelt and tucked his hands under her armpits and hoisted her onto the lowest branch. “Just don’t climb too high okay?” He knew he didn’t have to worry, though. Naru had probably been climbing trees since she had been born.
“Yep!” Like a monkey, she began climbing her way up, scrambling from branch to branch.
Handa felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he turned away to open it. It was a message from Hiroshi.
“Persimmons are ripe when they turn a rich orange colour and turn rosy on the bottom. I put my game down just to google that for you, I hope you’re happy.”
Handa smiled. “Thanks.”
“Also Mum says come over to our for dinner tonight.”
He tapped out a reply. “I’ll be there.”
He enjoyed eating at the Kido’s. The banter between family, the television yammering in the background, soft yellow lights, Village Chief’s storytelling, and the warmth of five people in one room, it was fun. Yet, even with all that, he loved the meals where it was just him, Naru and Hiro the best. He looked down at the fruit in his hand and wondered what he was going to do with all the persimmons. Maybe Hiroshi would teach him how to make jam, and he could hand it out to the villagers as a thank you present. That would be nice.
CRACK
The sound pierced Handa’s heart like a sharpened icicle, turning his whole body to ice. He turned and saw Naru falling, the branches reaching out to catch her, only for her to slip through their twiggy fingers. The persimmon fell from his hand. His legs were moving, but with every step he took he only got further away. She hit one thick bough with a sickening crunch and let out a sharp yelp, before finally landing with a thud just beyond Handa’s outstretched fingers. She lay on her back, horribly still, her face scrunched up like a crumpled ball of paper. A high-pitched keening sound began to resonate from her, crescendoing until it broke off into a sob.
“Naru, Naru!” Handa knelt at her side, hovering over her, his hands desperately wanting to shake her by the shoulders until she opened her eyes, flashed her wide grin and jumped to her feet, ready to go again.
Only she didn’t. Her face was ashen, and clammy with cold sweat. Her arm lay by her side, jutting out in way that Handa knew was not natural. He whipped around. “Help!” He shouted to the frigid air. “Help, somebody!” The persimmons bounced in the wind, jolly jack-o-lanterns that grinned down at him with sadistic glee. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and flicked through his contacts with numb fingers until he found the right number.
“What’s wrong? Is this about persimmons again?” Hiroshi didn’t bother greeting him.
“It’s Naru, she fell, she’s hurt!” Handa gasped, tears making the words in his throat ragged and torn.
Immediately, Hiroshi switched gears. “Where are you? Stay there, don’t move, I’ll get help. Don’t move, okay?” And he hung up.
Waiting was the worst part. All Handa could do was sit next to her and wipe the dark curls of hair off her sweaty forehead as she cried, shuddering breaths racking her tiny body. Her cheeks were tracked with tears, and snot dripped from her nose. Her eyes remained squeezed shut, despite Handa’s desperate pleas for her to open her eyes and talk to him. He looked down the road and silently willed Hiroshi to hurry up. He tried to scoop Naru up in his arms, to move her even just a few metres down the road would be better than waiting here, but she screamed at the slightest movement and Handa cursed himself.
“I’m so sorry,” he blubbered, tears flowing down his face. “This is all my fault. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
It felt like decades before he heard the sirens.
Handa was in the waiting room when Hiroshi found him. Without a word, Handa stood and accepted Hiroshi’s wide arms without hesitation. He hid his face in Hiroshi’s neck, his hands clutching at the back of his jacket while the other’s hands lay firm and warm on his back.
“What happened?” Hiroshi murmured when they broke apart.
“She was climbing a tree and I wasn’t paying attention, the branch broke and…” he swallowed, fighting back tears. Hiroshi waited as he wiped his face and took a deep breath. “She’s getting an x-ray now.”
Hiroshi drew him in close, stroking the back of his head. “It’s going to be okay. She’s strong.”
“I know, it’s just, it’s just…” He swallowed hard as fresh tears sprang to his eyes. “It’s all my fault!” He buried his face in Hiroshi’s shoulder. “If I had been watching her, I would have told her not to climb so high. I should have known the branches wouldn’t support her weight.” He gulped. “I always thought she was invincible, that the island would never hurt her. I can’t stop thinking about all the risky things I’ve let her do, how close she could have come to seriously hurting herself.”
“Hey, hey,” Hiroshi murmured. “It’s not your fault. It was just a stupid accident. Naru knew what the risks were.”
“Then why did she climb so high? Isn’t it my job to tell her not to?”
“Yeah, but even if you say, “don’t climb too high”, if they’ve faced no repercussions in the past, they’re still gonna do it. Sometimes ya gotta let the kid bump their head fer them to learn not to do it again.”
Handa stared at him in horror. “Are you saying I should let Naru put herself in danger?”
“No, I’m just sayin’ that mollycoddlin’ her ain’t gonna help. Look, she ain’t gonna die from a broken arm, this’ll be a good learning experience for her.” Hiroshi smiled and Handa scowled back. He laughed. “What’s that look for?”
“Be more worried, damn it!”
“I am worried.” Hiroshi ruffled his hair. “But one of us has gotta be the rational one.”
They sat back down, and Handa found he was no longer holding back tears. Hiroshi was like a paper clip, bringing the scattered pages of his mind back together and holding them in place. He sat up a little straighter, breathed a little easier, saw a little clearer.
Naru wasn’t going to die. Knowing her, she’d come out of the doctor’s room all smiles. Even if she broke both legs and was in a wheelchair, it wouldn’t stop her from careering around the village and rustling up mischief. And Hiroshi was right, with a bit of luck, this incident would help prevent similar ones occurring in the future. Handa wasn’t going to wrap her in cotton wool, as much as he wanted to, he knew it would only cause her to pull away from him, and then where would he be?
When Handa finally saw Naru, she was sitting in a chair, swinging her legs, while her arm rested awkwardly in her lap. Her eyes travelled across the small room, taking in all the posters about flu safety and washing your hands, until they landed on Handa. Her face lit up. “Sensei!”
His foot faltered. He had been expecting the Naru who had been lying in the dirt an hour ago, a broken doll, paralysed by pain. He had been ready to stride across the room and wrap his arms around her, to put her tear-stained face in his shoulder and stroke the back of her head. But now all he could do was stand awkwardly in front of her. “How are you feeling?”
“Alright, m’arm’s feelin’ real funny though. Like my heart’s in my arm. And it hurts a lot, but it ain’t so bad if I keep it still.”
Every muscle in his body sagged in relief, and he cuffed her over the head. “I told you not to climb too high!”
She ducked her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I won’t do it again, promise.”
With a sigh, Handa bent and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her stiffly as he tried not to bump her arm. They were interrupted as the doctor entered. “Oh, Dad’s here now. That’s good.”
Handa straightened up with a jolt, and he blushed, opening his mouth to tell her that Naru wasn’t his daughter. But as he looked down at her, the words faded off his tongue.
“It’s a nice clean break.” The doctor handed Handa an x-ray of her tiny arm. “Now we just have to set and cast it, and you’ll be right as rain.” She arranged Naru’s arm on the bench. “It’s going to hurt a little bit,” she warned. “But you’ll feel much better afterwards. What colour would you like for your cast?” While Naru was distracted by going over her favourite colours, the doctor firmly straightened her arm out.
Naru’s face scrunched up, and she buried her face in Handa’s shoulder as the doctor bandaged her arm and plastered it, moving with gentle precision. The cast didn’t take long to set, and soon they were walking out of the room, a bright orange cast on Naru’s arm while her good hand clasped Handa’s.
They found Hiroshi in the waiting room, and she proudly presented her cast to him. He ruffled her hair. “Yer certainly more chipper than I thought you’d be. Sensei was actin’ like you’d broke ya neck. I was gonna admit him to the hospital, he was so worried sick.” He was cut off as Handa hit him across the back of his head.
He was blushing bright. “You would have been too, in my position.”
“Who was it who called the ambulance again?”
“You didn’t watch her fall!”
Naru watched their bickering, the smile slipping off her lips, and her face crumpled. She charged at the two men, wrapping her one arm around Hiroshi’s legs and burying her face in Handa’s thigh. “I’m sorry. I’m real sorry.”
Hiroshi glanced at Handa and the two knelt at her side and hugged her close, the three of them embracing in the middle of the hospital waiting room, regardless of the people staring at them.
Suddenly, Naru pulled away with a gasp. “My persimmons!”
The plastic bag heavy with orange fruits was still lying at the base of the tree where she had fallen. Handa climbed to his feet with a sigh. “Well, we better go get them then.” He held out his hand to Naru, who clasped it tight. After a moment of hesitation, Handa held his other hand out to Hiroshi, though his gaze was determinedly fixed elsewhere. Hiroshi blinked at him.
“I’m coming too?”
“Well, Naru picked a lot of persimmons, and I need you to teach me how to make jam,” he muttered, his cheeks blushing bright.
Hiroshi grinned and clasped his hand. “Sure. Though, I don’t know how to make jam.” Handa immediately tried to drop his hand, but Hiroshi held on tight, laughing. “Yer so cruel, Sensei!” He squeezed his hand slightly. “We can learn together.”
They ended up making twelve jars of jam, after a few failed attempts, which Handa distributed amongst the villagers, as thanks for looking after him and Naru.