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When I was in the fourth grade, we had to clean the classroom
of the first-grade children for the coming PTA meeting. I was in
high spirits in front of our juniors. I swept around the teacher's
platform, polished the clock the teacher used to teach time, and
went home much satisfied with the work I had done.
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 The
next morning, our classroom teacher said to us angrily, " Yesterday
somebody did a very naughty thing. He twisted the hand of the clock.
I know who did it. Raise your hand and confess , or I will make
the pupils who witnessed the sight point at you. Nobody answered.
Then two pupils came toward me checking each of our faces. No! It's
not me! Not me!.... The cry in my mind got louder and louder, and
when it reached the top, one of the two pointed at me, shouting,
"It's him!" At that moment time stopped, all the noises deceased,
and all went blank. With all my classmates staring at me, trembling
in helplessness, disgrace and sorrow, I only could repeat in my
heart, "I didn't do it! I didn't do it!"
The teacher yelled at me and that was the end of it.
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A few days later, it turned out that a first-grade pupil was responsible for it and I was cleared of the charge. But at that time I started to stammer. One day I was made a fool of by my classmates because of my stuttering and we fought on the roof of the toilet. I happened to hit my knee against a broken brick and bled heavily. Right after seeing my wound, the school nurse took me to a hospital and the doctor sewed up my wound without giving me any anesthetic as if he sewed a mop. I was impressed and decided to become a doctor on the spot. At that time I kept a dog, cat, and a goat at home, was interested in living creatures and had read a picture book about Doctor Hideo Noguchi so many times that it got worn out.
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 Through
primary and junior high school days, we would often go to our hideaway
which we called "the den" right after school. Our "den" was usually
made on a tree or in a bamboo bush. Of course all of kids knew instinctly
the boundary of our den territory but whenever anyone built a "den"
or renovated it, we all helped voluntarily. Typhoons often broke
the "dens".
Talking of a typhoon, we almost always had a blackout when it came.
When the weather forecast told a typhoon was coming, I looked forward
to a blackout and got excited. I loved it. During a blackout, I
crept under the desk with an electric torch, a box of matches, and
some snacks. On such a night I climbed up to the drying place after
taking a bath, and peed toward the garden, naked and hit by the
heavy rain of the typhoon. I suppose anything done on a high place
must be refreshing. It may be because of this memory that I like
to go to the toilet on the plane.....!
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 Through
this writing, I have come to think that the speech defect I had
in my childhood may have lead to my interest in the flute when I
entered a junior high school. It might be that I liked to play "The
Spirits' Song" that my mother was very fond of, but I can't be sure
now. But anyway that was the beginning of my involvement with the
recorder and other various pipes. My mother was plain and strict
but gentle and tender. Some ten years have passed since Mother died
and as time passes, I remember her all the more often. It seems
strange to me.
Sounds become man and man becomes sounds. Like a human life, sounds
die out, and that makes their existence clearer and stronger. As
long as I live, my sound of tomorrow will be different from that
of today, and so it should be.
Oct.1996
In my house,1957.
LtoR
Shinobu;eldest brother, Eiichi;my father, Minoru, Kiyoko;my
mother, and Hiroshi;second elder brother. We wear a sweater hand-knitted of mother. She always wore
the kimono. |
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Sounds
become man and man becomes sounds
