ナオミ・ヒラハラ

１月のニュースレターで 、世界各国の日系人読者の方々が、どのように新年をむかえられるかを写真や文章を通して紹介してくださるようにお願いしました。読者の方から英語・日本語・ポルトガル語による返事をいただきました。ジャスティン・イナハラさんからのストーリー （英語）はとても長かったので別にしてご紹介させていただきました。その他の方からのストーリーは、ここに紹介いたしますのでお楽しみ下さい。

『Un-Chanto Woman』 の苦肉の策
作: ナオミ・ヒラハラ

私は『un-chanto』であることから幼少期より広島生まれの母を度々悲しませてきた。セーターをなくさなければ鉄棒で回転するためにパディングとしてかけ、汚す事や、出かける前に行き方を前に調べないで長時間迷うことなど様々なエピソードがある。

年末の買い物客でごった返しているスーパーから帰ってみると ...

On my dead husband’s laptop is only one document, a letter addressed to me.

Carrie glances at me and I nod. She double clicks on the “For Maki” file and a Microsoft Word document opens.

Dear Maki:

If you are reading this, I’m probably dead and you’ve been smart enough to stay alive.

I’m so sorry that I’ve put you in such a terrible position. I wish I had some good advice for you, but you’ve seen where I’ve ended up.

Just know that I left you not because I didn’t care ...

I wait for Crowe to threaten to publicly expose my lies. I picture being kicked out of the dorm and being on the front page of the Stanford Daily: middle-aged Japanese sushi chef impersonating a graduate student. 

“Anago feast,” he says, sharpening his kitchen knife with a steel rod.

“Excuse me?” I find a wire-mesh strainer and pour my broth into a plastic container. I’ll use the dashi for another purpose.

“You mean that you prepared an anago feast for another customer besides me?”

I blink and focus on his hazel eyes. The hair is different but the face ...

The condo itself is one of those nondescript kinds all along Embarcadero in Palo Alto. It’s part of a larger complex with probably at least fifty units. My ex-husband’s condo is way in the back and I stand there waiting for his lawyer, Jordan Phelps.

With everything that has happened, I know that it’s quite dangerous for me to be out there, in plain sight. But I’m tired of being scared and ashamed about my past. Ever since my customer—well, I guess date—was killed and then my ex-husband, I’ve been questioned countless times ...

I’m assembling a natto hand roll for a software engineer with Google, when a man in a motorized wheelchair enters Yudai’s Corner. He has a grizzled red beard that looks like strands of saffron and a Giants baseball cap.

“I’m looking for Maki Mitchell,” I hear him announce to our waitress, Carrie. He is already looking my way, so I figure he already knows who I am.

Carrie is giving him the third degree, but I tell her that it’s okay. It’s almost closing time in between lunch and dinner, anyway, and the engineer is ...