The New Yorker: PRINTABLES
rid of you. She wanted to drive you as far away as possible. Your father isn’t a bad person, but he
isn’t what you’d call a forceful personality, and he couldn’t stand up for you. For these reasons,
ever since you were small you’ve never got enough love. I think you’ve had an inkling of this, but
you’ve intentionally turned your eyes away from it. You’ve shut this painful reality up in a small
dark place deep in your heart and closed the lid. You’ve tried to suppress any negative feelings.
This defensive stance has become part of who you are. Because of all this, you yourself have
never been able to deeply, unconditionally love anybody else.”
Mizuki was silent.
“Your married life seems happy and problem-free. And perhaps it is. But you don’t truly love
your husband. Am I right? Even if you were to have a child, it would be the same.”
Mizuki didn’t say anything. She sank down to the floor and closed her eyes. She felt as though her
whole body were about to come apart. Her skin, her organs, her bones were crumbling. All she
could hear was the sound of her own breathing.
“That’s a terrible thing for a monkey to say,” Sakurada said, shaking his head. “Chief, I can’t
stand it anymore. Let’s beat the hell out of him!”
“Hold on,” Mizuki said. “What the monkey’s saying is true. I’ve known it for a long time, but
I’ve always closed my eyes to it, blocked my ears. He’s telling the truth, so please forgive him.
Just take him to the mountains and let him go.”
Mrs. Sakaki gently rested a hand on Mizuki’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re O.K. with that?”
“I don’t mind, so long as I get my name back. From now on I’m going to live with what’s out
there. That’s my name, and that’s my life.”
As Mizuki was saying goodbye to the monkey, she handed him Yuko Matsunaka’s nametag.
“You should have this, not me,” she said. “Take good care of her name. And don’t steal anybody
else’s.”
“I’ll take very good care of it. And I’m never going to steal again, I promise,” the monkey said,
with a serious look on his face.
“Do you know why Yuko left this nametag with me before she died? Why would she pick me?”
“I don’t know why,” the monkey said. “But, because she did, you and I were able to meet. A twist
of fate, I suppose.”
“You must be right,” Mizuki said.
“Did what I told you hurt you?”
“It did,” Mizuki said. “It hurt a lot.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you.”
“It’s all right. Deep down, I knew it already. It’s something I had to confront someday.”