The Graveyard Apartment Read Online Free PDF Page A

playing with him yesterday.”
    â€œOh, I get it. You had a dream about Pyoko.”
    â€œNo, it wasn’t a dream. Pyoko came to visit me at night, while I was still awake. He came flying into my room, full of life. And the thing is, he just went on talking and talking. I can understand some bird language now, so I knew what he was saying.”
    â€œWow, that’s really something,” Misao said, barely managing to maintain a neutral tone. “So, um, what was Pyoko talking about?”
    â€œHe was telling me about the place where he’s living now. He says it’s a really dark and dangerous place, and I should never go there because once somebody goes in, it’s almost impossible to get out again. But Pyoko is very clever, and he knows how to escape sometimes. That’s how he can visit me. Oh, and Mama? He says that place is full of bad monsters with big, scary faces. And he told me that when those monsters speak, a big wind starts to blow and everyone gets sucked into a giant hole.”
    Misao sighed. It was supposed to be healthy to let a child’s imagination run wild, but Tamao had a tendency to carry make-believe to extremes. Maybe the way they’d been raising her was overly indulgent, and this kind of far-fetched flight of fancy was the result. Or perhaps she and Teppei, as a couple, had unconsciously been transmitting their own somber feelings and residual regrets about the past, and over time that ambient gloominess had percolated down to Tamao, bit by bit, and had influenced her behavior.
    â€œPyoko is looking down from heaven and watching over you,” Misao said gently, as if she were reading aloud from a children’s book. “He’ll be checking to see that you go to kindergarten and make lots and lots of wonderful new friends, the way you’re supposed to. Also, he wants to make sure you stay safe and don’t catch a cold or anything like that. That’s why—”
    â€œYes, but he really did come to my room,” Tamao interrupted. “He was perched right next to the bed. And he really did talk to me, a whole bunch.”
    â€œI know, but that was just a dream.”
    â€œNo, I keep telling you, it wasn’t a dream,” Tamao said impatiently. “It was real. Pyoko perched on the headboard of my bed for a while, and then he flew around the room, and a few times he landed on Pooh-Bear’s head.” Pooh-Bear was Tamao’s favorite stuffed animal: a fuzzy white teddy bear.
    â€œI see. Of course, that’s probably what happened,” Misao said, trying to keep the distress out of her voice.
    â€œI wonder if he’ll come again tonight,” Tamao mused.
    â€œHmm, I wonder,” Misao said uncomfortably.
    Tamao continued prattling on about the dead bird, but while Misao made a show of listening intently, her thoughts were elsewhere. Was it maybe a bit too soon to be sending Tamao off to kindergarten? It was troubling to hear her daughter talking about something she had dreamed, or imagined when she was half asleep, as though it were empirical reality. Rather than abruptly plunging Tamao into a group situation, maybe it would be more appropriate to find some playmates of the same age or thereabouts, and let them run around outdoors and come home covered in mud. Baby steps , Misao thought.
    No question about it, having Pyoko die mere hours after their move to a new house had been traumatic for Tamao. Misao suddenly remembered that the birdcage (encased in a plastic bag) was still out on the balcony, where she had hastily stashed it the first day. She really ought to put the cage somewhere out of sight, sooner rather than later. And to minimize the chances of Tamao’s having any more of those disquieting dreams, she should probably put an end to her current custom of giving Tamao bedtime snacks of cookies or chocolate. No sweets after dinner, and an absolute minimum of liquids: that should be the policy from