Three Little Katawas
 
(for FluffandCrunch)
 
“But what if she doesn’t like it?  What if she thinks it’s dumb and childish?  Or w-what if she thinks I’m m-making fun of her or—“
 
Her lips keep moving for a few seconds after her voice chokes in her throat.  The sight of it pains me.  Hanako has worked so hard to and grown so much over the past few months, you would hardly think she was the same girl that I met in the library when I arrived in the spring.  I hear a slight rattle from the oversized box of gadgets in her arms.  She’s trembling.  She really is worried.
 
If her arms weren’t full, I would probably hug her, but instead I just put my hands on her shoulders and lower my gaze to meet hers.
 
“Listen, Hanako.  You worked really hard on this and I’m sure Lilly will love it.  I know you’re nervous, but we are going to go through with this, alright?  I believe in you.”
 
She frowns and averts her eyes.  I give her a moment to collect herself before she speaks again.
 
“But you don’t understand.  I know whatever I do Lilly will just smile and tell me it was very nice and she likes it.  So how do I know if she really does?  What if she’s just trying not to hurt my feelings?  She’s always like this!  I can n-n-never tell what she’s really thinking.”
 
Hanako’s tone turns from apprehension to mild anger.  I must admit I can see why she is frustrated.  Lilly’s stoicism can be truly bewildering at times, and if there’s one thing that is frustrating about her it’s that she’s never very clear about what is really going on in her head.  It seems that even Hanako hasn’t managed to see into the mind of Lilly.  
 
As usual, I have no idea what to say to Hanako to reassure her, so I just lift her chin so she’s looking at me and give her my best reassuring smile.
 
“I guess all we can do is try our best, and hope we pull it off, right?  Naomi said it was a neat idea, didn’t she?”
 
She sighs.  “I think Naomi is just being nice, too.  I dunno.  The more I think about it the more it just seems like a stupid idea.”
 
I give her a conciliatory shrug of the shoulders.  “Well if you want I can just go in there and do it all myself.  Maybe if I do a convincing Hanako voice, Lilly won’t even realize you aren’t there.”
 
Hanako huffs impatiently at me, but I can see her starting to lighten up a little.  She really has come a long way these past few months, and lately she’s been a lot more open about her own feelings.  Hanako seems to dislike when people handle her with kid gloves.  I don’t really talk to Naomi so I’m not sure whether or not she realizes this, but whatever goes on at the newspaper club, it has had a tangible impact on Hanako’s interpersonal skills, the most obvious one being the fact that she doesn’t stutter nearly as much as she used to.   In fact, it only really comes up when she’s nervous about something.  Now, for instance.
 
The funny thing is that this openness has made it even harder for me to communicate with Hanako.  How am I supposed to be supportive of her without also annoying her?
 
I take the box out of her hands and hold it in my own.  It’s lighter than I would have thought, and the contents rattle as I fumble with it.  Last week Hanako found this box while helping Naomi and Natsume search through an old storage room at the school.  It turned out to be an old-time radio show kit, complete with sound effects.  Natsume had apparently instructed her to throw it out, but as soon as Hanako realized what was in the box, she fell hopelessly in love.  That night she invited me over that to help her figure out what all of the items were for.  A pair of gloves to create the sound of a bird’s wings flapping.  Hollowed out coconut shells that you could use to simulate a horse’s hooves.  A tin box filled with dried peas that makes a rain noise when you tilt it.  A sound board with different door attachments like a handle, knocker, lock and chain.  Best of all, it included a few old scripts of different plays that had been adapted for radio.  While going through the different scripts, Hanako noticed one based on a book that she had seen Lilly reading before, and thus arose the plan to put on an impromptu radio show as a Christmas gift for Lilly.  
 
“It’s nerdy, isn’t it?” she says, fidgeting and looking down at her now-free hands.
 
I laugh, readjusting the box in my arms.  “If it is, then we’re both nerds.  Don’t worry.  We can all be nerds together, and if Lilly doesn’t like it, well, we can get her something else later, and this can be your gift to me.”
 
She gives me a half-smile, and is about to say something before the two of us hear the sound of Lilly’s door opening.  Apparently our attempt to remain quiet has failed.  We should have counted on Lilly’s super-human hearing to blow our cover.
 
“Hisao?  Hanako?”
 
Lilly’s head peeks out into the hallway of the girls’ dorm from the pitch black of her room.  Hanako stammers a bit and raises her hands in front of her as if to shield herself.
 
“Yes, Lilly,” I say, “I hope we’re not interrupting anything?”
 
She smiles and turns on her bedroom light for us, opening the door.  “Oh, not at all!  Please come in, I was just tidying up a bit.  I hope you don’t mind the mess.  What’s that you’ve brought with you?”
 
“N-nothing!” Hanako pipes in.  “I mean, it’s a surprise.”
 
A matronly smile appears on Lilly’s face as she is apparently reminded of the time of the year.  “Well, in that case, I will say no more until the time comes.”
 
Lilly’s room, as usual, is much tidier than mine, and the only things that might pass for a mess are the unmade bed and the tea set sitting on the low table in the center of her room.  I set the box down gingerly so as not to stir up any of the noises inside.   Hanako seems almost to be sneaking into her spot beside the low table, unpacking the box as quietly as she possibly can.  She quickly hands me one of the few items that she added to the kit herself – a medium-sized sea shell.  I reach across the table to where Lilly is sitting, nestling it against her ear.  She touches my hand with a surprised look on her face.
 
“Hisao?”
 
“Do you hear that, Lilly?”  I say.  Hanako is frozen mid-task, watching Lilly carefully for a reaction.  Lilly emits a slight giggle.
 
“Ah, yes.  The sound of the sea?”
 
“This is where our story begins,” Hanako says ominously as she finishes unpacking her things.  The confidence and ease in her tone is surprising to me.  She’s already doing much better than she had been when we rehearsed.  Lilly’s eyebrows raise as her interest is piqued, but she says nothing, until she hears a slight creaking and knocking sound coming from the soundboard on the table in front of Hanako.  The sound of a boat floating in water.  We exchange a quick glance before turning to Lilly to see how she reacts.  A smile is beginning to form, but the look of confusion is still there.  She doesn’t ask any more questions, however, but sits attentively listening to us.
 
“A meeting of ten people,” Hanako goes on, not even glancing at the script that I’ve layed out for her.   “At a mysterious island resort…”
 
Hanako lowers her gaze as she talks, either watching what she is doing, making sure that she has the right items before her, and motioning for me to get things from the box as she recites the introductory narrative that finds the ten characters staying in the resort together.  When the time comes I deliver my own lines, sharing the men’s voices with her and doing my best not to laugh at her gruff, exaggerated “male” voice.  When I look at Lilly meanwhile, she seems to be sitting back and listening, but I note something different in her expression.  While she normally makes a point of facing whoever is talking, instead she is tilting her head, facing off into the distance, a dreamy, dazed expression overcoming her.  As the story progresses, Hanako’s occasional glance at Lilly becomes less and less frequent, and her confidence begins to wane.  I know what is happening, but I can’t bring myself to interrupt the production for the sake of helping her.  I put my hand on Hanako’s as I deliver one of my lines, and she squeezes it.
 
The main character, Vera Claythorne, has just begun to unpack her bags and has noticed a nursery rhyme above the fireplace in her room.  Just as Hanako is about to recite the poem, Lilly suddenly chimes in:
 
“Ten little soldier boys went out to dine.  One choked his little self and then there were Nine…”
 
I turn to Hanako, whose growing discomfort has now been replaced with a look either of alarm or amazement.  Her mouth hangs open and she stares at Lilly.  Her mind must be racing about what is happening right now.  Both of us knew Lilly was familiar with this story, or had read it before, but her memory of the contents of the story is remarkable.  Neither of us could have expected such a thing.  I can’t decide which face I would rather look at right now – Lilly, her trademark stoicism dominating her command of her role, or Hanako, who had just been worried about how Lilly would react to the “gift” that she was bringing her.  
 
The addition to our cast streamlines the story considerably.  Lilly, now the main character, takes her cues from our performances and completely outreaches either of us.  Hanako, her role having been considerably diminished, focuses her efforts on providing atmosphere and sound effects – doors opening and closing, hurried footsteps, a phone book smacking against the floor to create the sound of a dead body keeling over.  Lilly is so absorbed in her performance that I can’t tell whether the sounds are eliciting real surprise, or whether she is merely playing along with them.  Past a certain point it no longer matters to any of us.  It’s a good thing that Hanako warned the other residents of the girls’ dorm that there might be “strange sounds” coming from Lilly’s room, lest someone passing by call the police to report a series of murders.
 
After about an hour of confrontations, grueling discoveries, and heartfelt musings, I find myself face to face with Vera Claythorne.  The murderer.  All eight of the other occupants have died, leaving only the two of us.  She must be the murderer, I’m sure of it!
 
I laugh.  “So here we are, Vera!”
 
I stare into Lilly’s bright blue eyes, which seem to come alive through the force of her performance.  I could swear she was looking right back at me.  For all I know, her mind’s eye has assembled the scene more vividly than my own imagination ever could.
 
I feel a stabbing sensation in my chest, and with real alarm I look down to find that it is Lilly’s index finger.  Her thumb is extended upward.  She’s pointing a gun at me.
 
“But Miss Claythorne…” I stammer, patting my shirt pocket which is probably much too small for a gun.  Well, except maybe this gun.
 
My tone grows angry.  “You conniving woman!  You’ve picked my pocket.”
 
Hanako’s hand claps over her mouth and I shoot her a glance only to see her stifling her laughter.  She can barely contain herself.  Lilly, however, is ruthless, so I motion for Hanako to prepare for her next task.  An inflated ziplock bag between her hands, she watches the hammer of Lilly’s gun, waiting for the perfect moment.
 
I look back to Vera Claythorne.
 
“Miss Claythorne… give me the pistol.  Come on now…”
 
I reach out to her cautiously, and…
 
Bang.
 
Thud.
 
A lost, frightened expression emerges where Vera’s skill and confidence once was.  With a few shuddering breaths, she reaches forward and abruptly unfastens my tie, lifting it over my head and placing it around her own neck.  She climbs up atop the table as me and Hanako look on.  The end of the tie is raised into the air, and like a person condemned, Vera clenches her eyes shut and swallows hard.   In a weak murmur, she utters the last line of the poem.
 
“One little soldier boy left all alone… he went and hanged himself… and then there were none.”
 
As she hops off the table, I hear the sound of the rope tensing, her life and her story ending.
 
There is a brief silence as Vera recedes and Lilly once again joins us, taking her seat at the low table.  
 
Then, laughter.  Uncontrollable laughter from where Hanako is sitting.  Before I know it, the three of us are all letting out the laughter we have been trying so hard to hold inside this whole time.  The illusion dissipates, and we are wordless in one another’s company.  The natural thing would be for Lilly to thank Hanako for her gift, but it hardly seems necessary anymore.  
 
The three of us break for tea.  Hanako, now free from the shackles of radio drama, excitedly tells Lilly every detail of the sounds she created, practically tripping over her words, handing Lilly each item and showing her how to reproduce the many sounds of the performance.  Within the space of an hour, however, the fatigue of our long day wins her over and she gathers her things, excusing herself.  Riding on a wave of glory, her arm full of her box of tricks, Hanako steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.  I feel Lilly’s hand squeezing mine across the table.
 
“That was very sweet of you,” she says to me.
 
“It was all Hanako’s idea.  I just played along.”
 
She shakes her head.  “I meant you, Hisao.  I know she would never have been able to go through with that if she didn’t have a friend like you at her side.  Even with all the confidence she’s built up, she still worries so much about my opinion of her.  I think she sees in you a person that can relate to a side of her that I just don’t really share.”
 
I smirk.  “This is your way of telling me that it’s good for Hanako to have a friend who is almost as much of a geek as she is?”
 
Lilly raises her hand to her lips and stifles another giggle.   “Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have fun tonight.  I think that’s perfectly clear.  Maybe there’s still much that I have to learn from the two of you, after all.”
 
As she talks, she hoists herself up on the side of her bed, resting her hands at her sides and stretching out her long legs.  I could never grow tired of the sight of Lilly in her pajamas.  My loose tie still hangs around her neck, dangling between her breasts.  And here I haven’t had a chance to change out of my school uniform.  Hanako and I have had a busy day preparing the last touches for this event, and I’m starting to feel a bit of that fatigue myself.
 
I take a seat next to her on the side of her bed, putting my arm around her waist.  She leans her head on my shoulder and sighs.
 
“I never knew you were such a good actress,” I say to her.
 
“Aren’t you even more impressed with my memory?” she hums, snuggling up closer.
 
“I am.  I have seen you reading that book before, but you must have just read it recently, haven’t you?”
 
“Oh, no,” she says.  “I just have a vivid recollection of the things that I read.  I think that this is something Hanako knows about me, as well.  I had a conversation with her, once, very shortly after we first met, when she said that it must be nice to be blind while reading because you don’t have to close your eyes in order to picture what’s going on in the book.  Well, I know it was something completely off the cuff, because she went totally silent as soon as she realized what she was saying.  It took me a whole day to reassure her that I wasn’t offended.  She never breached the subject again, but you know, I have given what she said then some thought and I think she may have been right.  Do you often close your eyes while reading, Hisao?”
 
I tilt my head back and look at the ceiling.  Looking at ceilings sometimes helps me to recall my time in hospital better.
 
“Come to think of it, I really do.  When you have your eyes open, there’s just so much information coming at you all at once, and it’s hard to pretend you are really in the novel that you are reading.  You have to take a break sometimes and close your eyes to really find yourself there.”
 
Her hand pats mine where it rests on her thigh.
 
“It sounds terrible,” she says coyly, “living with your imagination all tied up… and aren’t I lucky?  All it takes is a box of tricks to bring me into a completely different world, to make me into a completely different person.”
 
“You’ll have to teach me to read with my eyes closed, sometime,” I say.
 
Lilly leans heavily on me, apparently napping.  Once again I am left in awe of Lilly.  Her understanding of Hanako, her grace in defusing what might have turned into a tense moment, the sincerity in her response.  But most of all, I am proud of her for letting her hair down a bit, and letting an unfamiliar joy take hold of her for once.  As she rests her head in my lap, her breathing slows, and she appears to be napping.  This beautiful girl, who sometimes seems like such an old soul, right now looks so youthful to me, so vibrant.  
 
She stirs, and her hand reaches for mine.  She opens her eyes again, if only to indicate that she is not sleeping.  
 
“You know,” she says playfully, “there is one sound I would love to hear right about now.”
 
“Oh?”
 
Lilly leans in and kisses me on the cheek, and begins dexterously unbuttoning my shirt.
 
Oh.