Apocryphon, Chapter 1

The Elementary School Years Northern Japan, 1982

I smiled when the bell rang. My elementary school sat on the coast, near the factories and the winding road. I quickly packed up my bag and walked past the other kids. They whispered things, and my cheeks went red as I felt my cat approach. I wanted to shoo her away, but I was worried if I made any sudden movements, that would only draw more attention.

So I put my head down and walked as fast as I could. My leather school pack pulled on my shoulders as I stepped into the entrance way and put on my outdoor shoes. My cat jumped up on top of the lockers and the sound of digital glass clinked in my ears.

Though my cheeks were still red and my heart still beating quickly, I smiled again when I stepped outside. It was a rare day of sun, and the song in the sky roared low in the distance. I walked down the street. The small harbor and the factories spread out to my right-hand side, the sun glittering on the water and the black smoke of the stacks rising in a steady stream. I slowed my pace and my cat fell in stride with me.

“You can’t be seen by the other kids,” I said to her. “They’ll think you’re a Phantom and then the Shrift will come for me.”

A low-fidelity purr rumbled in the small being’s throat. It trotted forward, and then a glitch tore its body in half. In a moment, it was gone.

“Hey, Miyo! Wait!”

I turned at the sound of my name, but my cheeks went red again. It was Jin and Ken, two of the rowdy boys in my class. A couple of the girls who I was friends with also followed them.

Jin jogged up to me, a big grin stretching across his face. “I need to ask you something.”

“My dad’s waiting for me,” I said. “I really have to go.”

Jin shook his head. “It’ll only take a second.” Then he shrugged. “So, what’s with that cat that follows you around everywhere? We were wondering.”

The saliva in my mouth grew hot. I wanted to spit it out, but I forced myself to swallow it. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about!”

One of the girls, Kaya, stepped close to me and grabbed my arm. “Leave her alone, Jin. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“But I swear I’ve seen it!” he said. “Sometimes when Miyo is around, there’s a black cat. I swear!”

I bowed my head, thankful for Kaya, but my whole body shook with the thud of my heartbeat.

“Just leave it alone,” Kaya said again.

“But that’s why she never plays with us! She’s always on her own, and I think it’s because that cat is a Phantom or something.” Jin ducked his head to try and meet my gaze. “Why haven’t you gone to the Shrift?”

“Hey.”

We all turned at the sound of the voice. The boy called Noah stood just beside our group. He looked at me, but he spoke to Jin.

“We shouldn’t stop in the middle of the road,” he said.

Jin threw up his hands and sighed. Then he and Ken led the way, and Kaya and the other girls followed. I didn’t move from where I stood until they were nearly out of sight down the street. Then I bowed at Noah and started to walk away.

“Wait,” he said. His eyes were green, and they flickered up to look at the group, and then back down to me. “So, is it really a Phantom?”

When I spoke, my voice was small. “What do you mean?”

Noah smiled and scratched the back of his head. “Well, to be honest, I’ve seen it too. The cat. I thought it might be a hologram or something, but it never made much sense.”

I dropped my gaze away from him. “No, no I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Noah waved his hands in front of him. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I was just curious, but I don’t think it’s something everyone should know.”

I grabbed the straps of my backpack. I didn’t know him very well. He was quieter than the other boys, and I thought his eyes were kind, so I wanted to trust him. But Mama and Papa had told me never to tell anyone about my cat, so I said nothing.

Noah smiled at the silence. “I’m Noah,” he said.

I almost laughed. “I know who you are. We’re in the same class.”

“Right. Well, this is the first time we’ve really talked,” Noah said.

“I guess. I’m Miyo.”

“Come on then,” he said. He walked down the street and I followed. The other children were out of sight, but I was sure they waited somewhere up ahead. The spring sun was warm as we walked down the road, but neither of us said anything. I looked down at my shoes. They were covered in dust.

“You’ll fall if you don’t look where you’re going,” Noah said.

I nodded and brought my gaze up. Then I asked, “Why do you think the cat is mine?”

Noah shrugged. “It’s only ever around when you are. And you do always keep to yourself so it seems like you’re hiding something. You should play with us more. Then no one will care about the cat.” He seemed to think for a moment. “You got an implant or something?”

“No.” I shook my head.

We walked beneath the shadow of the factories. The churn of the machines inside fell out through the rattling windows as the crashing of ocean waves sounded. We came to the railroad tracks, but the red light blinked, and the guardrails fell to block our path. We waited for the train to come.

Noah stood just in front of me, watching the train. I reached out and grabbed his sleeve, tugging on the worn material. He turned.

“You can’t tell anyone about the cat,” I said.

Noah smiled. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, so don’t worry.”

“Not even your family,” I said.

“Not a soul,” Noah agreed.

I let go of his sleeve. For some reason, I thought he wouldn’t break his promise.

The train passed and we crossed over the railroad tracks. We caught up to the other kids who stood in the parking lot of the grocery store on the corner. The buzz of bots who stocked the shelves hummed as they set out the fruit in old metal containers near the entranceway.

Jin waved at Noah and me. “Come on,” he said as if he’d forgotten about the previous conversation. “We’re going to the river.”

Noah looked at me. “Will you come?”

“I don’t know. My parents are waiting for me,” I said.

“You should come. It’s sunny today. There’s always the storms and the song in the sky, but today is nice. We shouldn’t waste it.” He smiled.

My cheeks went red again, but I didn’t understand why. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll go too.”

We followed the group out of the parking lot and down past the old car shop and high school. Noah walked next to me as we cut through the town. I didn’t say anything to him, but he didn’t seem to mind. And he kept smiling at me. We waited at a street corner until the light turned green and the holographic walkway flashed into view. Then we came to the bike path on the hill that ran along the river. Jin and Ken threw off their school packs and took off their shoes and socks and ran to the water’s edge.

Noah took off his pack as well. I stood at the top of the hill, holding the straps of my pack. The sun warmed my face and speckled the water orange as the wind carried with it the remains of the cherry blossoms and the rusted metal smell of the boats and damp air that lingered after the rains.

Noah turned to me. “Can you swim?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes, but not very well.”

“Alright, then just go near the edge but don’t go all the way in.” Noah grabbed my hand and led me to the water.

His hand was soft, and my cheeks grew redder. Why weren’t his? The water ran before us, and it was dark beneath the speckling surface.

“Is it clean?” I asked.

Noah shrugged. “Probably.”

Kaya and the other girls giggled. My heart beat fast against my bones.

“Why are they laughing?” Noah asked.

I shook my head, trying to cover my face with my hair, but I didn’t say anything.

We came to the water then, and Noah took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. He motioned for me to do the same. I did as I watched him step into the water. He gasped and bunched up his shoulders and shook.

“Ah, it’s cold!” he said.

I couldn’t help but laugh. At first Noah turned to me with surprise, but then he laughed too. At that moment, as I watched is laughing face, I hated the storms. I wished it could always be a sunny, spring day such as this one, and we could all play together in the river even though it was cold.

Then Noah splashed me with water. It chilled my skin and dampened my clothes. I called out and laughed again. Dirt and debris from the factories floated down the river, but now, I didn’t mind. I scooped up a handful and threw it back at Noah.

He backed up, but tripped, and fell beneath the surface with a splash.

I waited for him to come up, but he didn’t. The water was dark and I couldn’t see him beneath the surface. My heart, which had settled, picked up again, and I ran into the river up to my knees.

“Noah!” I called.

He came up out of the water right next to me, sputtering.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him closer to shore. “I’m sorry!” I said. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

Noah laughed, wiping his wet hair from forehead. “I’m fine! I’m fine!” he said.

I sighed. “I’m really sorry.”

Noah shook his head and smiled at me. “No, really, I’m alright,” he said. “Don’t apologize.” He sat down on the grass and took a deep breath. River water dripped off his nose.

I sat next to him, and we watched the others play for a while. Noah started to shiver, and I reached into my school pack and gave him my jacket.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Maybe we should go home if you’re getting cold,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe.”

We packed up our things and headed home before the others. My jacket was too small for Noah, so he draped it over his shoulders as he walked beside me and the daylight faded. When we came to a crossroads, Noah said he would head in the other direction to go home. He gave me back my jacket and waved goodbye.

I watched him walk down the street.

“Noah!”

He turned around.

I raised my hand and waved to him. “Thank you! Let’s play together again!”

He smiled. “Tomorrow! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time summer came, there was hardly a day when Noah and I didn’t play together. August came around and school let out for summer vacation. Noah said his parents were busy working, and so he came over my house often.

The first time he came over, we waited for Papa to pick us up in front of the parking lot of the school. A steady drizzle fell from the pale clouds, and we huddled beneath Noah’s umbrella, as I had forgotten mine that day. Wind blew the rain sideways and pulled at the umbrella, and Noah struggled to hold it. I clung onto his jacket to keep steady and laughed as we fought the breeze.

Soon, a silver car came around the corner. “That’s Papa,” I said.

Papa pulled up in front of us, and Noah’s face flickered with surprised. He probably hadn’t expected to see someone who wasn’t Japanese. Everyone tells me I look just like Mama, so they are always surprised when they see Papa.

Papa smiled and spoke in English to Noah. “Sorry I’m a little late,” he said, then looked at me. “Miyo, you forgot your umbrella this morning, didn’t you?”

I answered him in English as we slid into the backseat. “Yeah, but it’s okay. Noah let me borrow his.”

Papa looked at Noah through the rearview mirror and smiled. “Thank you, Noah. It’s nice to finally meet you. Miyo talks about you a lot. I’m Adam.”

Noah bowed his head, but then answered Adam in English as well. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Noah.”

Papa drove the car away from the school and back through the town. He asked us how school had been, and he would catch our gaze in the rearview mirror as he talked.

I sat hugging my school pack on my lap and stared out the window at the ocean and the factories as we talked.

Then Papa said, “Noah, Miyo said that you and the other kids like to play in the river sometimes.”

Noah nodded. “Yeah, sometimes we do.”

Adam said, “Just be careful. The factories can make the river pretty dirty, and the current can get very strong on rainy days. You won’t be able to control yourself. When rivers get like that, they can take you places you don’t wish to go.”

“Don’t worry, sir. We only go to the river on sunny days.”

Papa smiled. “That’s good. That’s smart. Did your parents teach you that?”

Noah shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t think my parents know I go to the river. They aren’t around a lot.”

“I see,” Papa said. He smiled warmly, and then it wasn’t long until we reached the outskirts of the city.

We took the narrow road among the rice fields where the green stalks bent in the breeze. The irrigation canals were open, and the excess water flowed out from the cut land and disappeared into the pipes beneath the road. We had learned about how the rice had changed after the Numen appeared and it rained more frequently, but I forgot all the details. I had always liked watching the stalks. Even on the gray days of rain, when there was at least a little wind, the stalks bent and danced alive.

Noah gasped when we pulled up to our house. There were no other homes around, just the Japanese-style building on the large grassy plain in the middle of the rice fields. Mama and Papa had it built right before I was born.

“It’s like the magazines with the homes in Tokyo or Kyoto or something,” he said.

I shrugged as we got out of the car. “Really?” I opened the front door and stepped into the entryway and took my shoes off before stepping up on the porch that wrapped around the house.

Noah followed me, clutching his schoolbag and staring around with wide eyes.

Soon, Mama came from around the corner, drying her hands on a towel she held. She took her glasses off and wiped them on her shirt and then smiled.

“You must be Noah,” she said. Mama spoke in Japanese like usual. “Welcome! We’ve heard all about you from Miyo.”

Noah bowed. “Nice to meet you, I’m Noah.”

“I’m Yui, Miyo’s mother.” Then she gestured to the large central room with the straw mats and the terminal in it. “You two go play. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Papa stepped inside then. He kissed Mama, and she smiled and put a hand on his cheek.

Noah stared, his mouth slightly ajar, before I pulled on his sleeve.

“Come on, Noah. Let’s go play.” I led him to the room with the mats. The Buddhist altar sat in one corner and the terminal in the other. I shut the sliding doors that led to the hallway and sat at the large table in the center of the room. Noah walked past the shelves with the radio and the cassette tapes on them, and then came and sat across from me.

“Your house is amazing,” he said.

“Really? I think it looks old.”

Noah gestured to the room around him. “Seriously. It’s like something from the holo-magazines.”

I shrugged and took two headsets from the side of the terminal and handed one to Noah. He put it on, and then I put mine on and pressed the button on the side of the machine. Noah gasped again and I smiled. Reality morphed around us, and the lattices spread for an eternity. It had always been like this. Mama had told me never to tell anyone, that it was their secret. Mama knew everything about cyberspace, and I hadn’t realized how different our terminal was until I jacked into the ones at school.

Noah’s form slid into place before me and the lattices crossed and formed the table in front of us.

“Cards?” I asked, waving my hand in front of me. Digital hanafuda cards glittered in the air and fell across the table. “Do you know how to play?”

Noah shook his head.

I taught him the rules, but he didn’t draw any good hands and I beat him every time expect once. We played for a while as Mama and Papa cooked dinner in the kitchen and the rain fell outside and pooled in the garden and splashed in the rice fields. The reality fabric shimmered as the weather outside affected the framework of cyberspace. The clack of the cards on the table echoed through the speakers on our headsets and kept the pace of the game.

Eventually, I got tired of winning and took off my headset. I leaned back on my hands and Noah did the same.

“I’m not good at games,” he said. “I always lose.”

“That’s alright. I think we’re going to eat dinner soon.”

After a bit longer, Mama and Papa brought in plates of rice and grilled pork and vegetables. Steam rose from the miso soup in little red bowls. Noah’s face lit up and I smiled. Mama and Papa joined us at the table, and we put our hands together and said that we were thankful for the food. Noah and I laughed as we ate and Papa made jokes. Mama rolled her eyes.

It was peaceful, and I thought that Noah wasn’t used to peace at home, so I was glad we could give that to him. We sat for a long while in the warm room by the blue glow of the terminal as the radio droned on softly behind us. I enjoyed when Noah was here, but I never pondered that one day it all might change. I only thought that just as the rains had fallen and the clouds had swirled in the sky my whole life, so too would the days continue on into eternity. Yet what came was broken days, shattered by the digital song of the Numen.

It wasn’t long after when I lost my voice. No matter the dry, wretched screeching that leaked from my throat, it was nothing like a song. To sing back to them was an impossibility.