Bread and Circuses

The Pain of Growth

"There was no tomorrow, only a dark heavy today, which she carried on her back like a nation."

--Ogawa Chiyoko

Mom's house was a last resort. Akari felt guilty for thinking this, but she hated visiting the wild old woman more than she loved wallowing in self-pity. As she drove around the round, fluffy, tree-lined corner, she shivered in anticipation of Mom's flowery speeches. She better not start singing! Now isn't a...singing time. This poor old woman thinks can escape that mendokusai blonde...! The one who fed Dad noodles...in public! Who draped herself around him like an old shawl, constantly referring to him as "Daddy". They even kissed in public! God, I want to vomit, those big red-smeared lips soaking his tiny wrinkled mouth...! His eyes would glow as he pressed a button on his remote control, so those glossy black shelves jutted out, cluttered with his Mayan pottery collection. She would squeal before launching into an art-history lecture, flirting with the descriptions better than Matsuko Deluxe with a boy band. His eyes would glow brighter as she wiggled her hips and lifted her voice an octave. That couldn't be lust glowing in her eyes, but anticipation of an old man's death!

"But Seolah isn't why Dad got divorced," Akimitsu would remind her, "They split up when we were kids, remember? I don't like her either, but she's not the reason why Mom went off...you know."

And Akari would remind him,

"Well, she wouldn't be off if her old ex-husband wasn't messing around with a gold digger."

She pulled up to the wiry black gates and turned to the speaker. It was a deep, glossy, walnut-- still whirring with brittle white knobs, having been fashioned from an antique radio. One of Mom's favorites...!

"What business have you with the lady of the house?" demanded a male voice.

"I'd like to visit Ogawa Chiyoko," she explained, "I'm her daughter, Akari."

"Welcome."

The gate flipped open, and Akari drove slowly up the gray-stone path. Mom's house was even bigger and fancier than she remembered. Ivory stone filled it, from the brick-paved ground to the pointed black roof. Green-black veins of ivy swirled around the rustic wooden door, causing a slow wave of comfort to wash over her. She turned to the massive front garden, where a man crouched and watered pale-pink flowers beneath a female marble statue. Akari blinked. She remembered this man, but not his name.

"Hello," she said, "I'm Akari. I'm here to visit my mother?"

The manservant rose to his feet. He was a tall, stocky man wearing a floral do-rag and Super Mario t-shirt. He waved, revealing wet black dirt stuck under his fingernails.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Miss Ogawa," he said, "Sorry to hear about your father."

She nodded gravely.

"Thank you. It's been tough. How's Mom taking it?"

He sighed slowly, shaking his head.

"She spends every minute in the Stallone Room." He raised an eyebrow. "You know the one. And she's still obsessed with this 'I'm 1/4 Tongan' business."

"Well, it's true. She's gotten tested and everything."

"But she still hasn't let go of her Tongan chieftess fantasy, so don't be surprised by her clothes-- or lack thereof."

"Eh? This is with medication?!"

"Unfortunately."

He led her down a narrow hallway, festooned with pale-pink walls and paintings of various styles-- Japanese, Chinese, French Impressionist. When he reached the silver elevator, he walked in and squinted at the pearly buttons, before pressing the highest one.