A Wretched Childhood

　　About 20 years ago, around 8:30 in the morning when the morning meeting for teachers finished, I had a telephone call from Kyohei Kato’s mother. Kyohei was a first year student at N Senior High School which I worked for as an English teacher. He was one of my homeroom students.

“Hello, this is Matsuoka speaking,” I answered.

“This is Kyohei Kato’s mother. I am sorry to call you so early in the morning, but I thought it important to inform you of this: my son Kyohei and I won’t be at home any more. So please don’t visit us.”

I did not comprehend thoroughly what she meant, because I was in a hurry; the morning homeroom class meeting would start in a few minutes.

“All right, thank you for calling,” I said hanging up the phone.

After coming back from my homeroom class, I thought about the telephone call. What did she mean by telling me that I didn’t have to visit their house? Why wouldn’t they be there any more?

I had been visiting Kyohei at his house several times for the past three months, because he did not come to school. Since I did not have class on Monday morning, I used to visit him then.

Usually his mother was at home when I visited him. She used to tell me Kyohei locked the door of his room from the inside and did not come out. She said, “I am sorry that you had to come to my house all the way from school.” She suggested that Kyohei and his father hated each other. She told me that she and her husband had often quarreled since Kyohei was a little child. She said she was scared of the bad relationship between them, because they even fought with weapons. His father had threatened him with a pair of pincers and her son had a drill. I was shocked. It was like killing each other in a gangster movie.

   While I was wondering what the matter was with them, I was seized with a terrible fear; they might commit suicide!

   I told Mr. Sato, one of my colleagues, about the problem to.

   “Call and ask her to tell you about the matter in more detail,” he said.

   I called her three or four times but there was no response. So we decided to visit his house.

When we arrived at his house, we found his father alone. He was apparently drunk, because he was unable to articulate properly. I told him about the call from his wife, and asked him if he knew where they were.

“I don’t know. They have gone away,” he said in an irritated voice.

“Is there anywhere they might have gone?” I said.

“Why are you meddling with us? It’s none of your business!”

“But I am Kyohei’s homeroom teacher. I have to know where he is,” I said sharply.

“I don’t care where they are,” he said as if they were total strangers.

“I think,” Mr. Sato said. “You should report this to the police, otherwise, they might…,” he stopped abruptly. I thought he was going to say, “They might commit suicide.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about them at all!” he said in a loud voice.

We gave up talking with him and returned to school.

The next day, there was no news about them in the media. I was not able to teach English well nor sleep well.

On the afternoon of the third day, the telephone in the teachers’ room rang. It was for me. I was afraid something bad had happened to Kyohei.     

“Hello, this is Matsuoka speaking,”

“This is Kyohei’s mother,” she said.

So, she was alive and Kyohei was alive, too.

“Mr. Matsuoka, we are sorry to have troubled you. You might have wondered where we went. We are now staying at a hotel near my house. So don’t worry about us.”

Weeks later, Kyohei came to school. I talked with him. He told me how he had been raised by his parents.

“My parents were always quarreling when I was a child. I thought this was normal for family. I thought every married couple were quarreling, but when I was a fourth grader, I visited my friend’s house and I was surprised that his parents did not fight. Every time I visited him, they never argued. So I thought my family was unusual. I have been brought up in an abnormal family.”

He had had such a wretched childhood.

What has become of him? I don’t know, because he quit school when he finished the first year.

I hope he is doing fine.