The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

THE WOMAN WITH SCISSORS

When it came to being easily scared, nobody was more easily scared than Masako’s younger brother, Yoshio. He was almost five years old, but still he kept wetting his bed because he couldn’t go to the toilet on his own at night — no matter how many times his parents told him off for it. Masako felt sorry for him, not only because he was always being told off by their parents, but also because his classmates had started to tease him and call him “bed-wetter”. If only there was something she could do to help him stop wetting the bed! Several months earlier she had even asked Yoshio about it.

“Hey, Yoshio,” she’d said. “Why is it you’re so scared of going to the toilet?”

“Because it’s so far from where I sleep,” Yoshio had replied.

Yoshio did have a point. After all, they lived in a relatively large house, and the hallway leading to the bathroom was really quite long.

“And it’s dark,” Yoshio had added. “And there’s something there too.”

“What do you mean ‘something’? Do you mean a ghost?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“What then?”

“Something scary.”

“Is it a person?”

“Yeah.”

“A spirit of some kind?”

“No, not a spirit. It’s a woman.”

“Why would a woman scare you?”

“Because her hair is all messy and her face is pale and scary.”

“It must be a spirit of some kind then.”

“It’s not.”

“Well how do you know it’s not a spirit?”

“I don’t know how I know! I just know that it isn’t.”

“And this woman is in the hallway?”

“No, she’s inside the bathroom. When I open the bathroom door, she’s always standing there with a pair of scissors in her hand.”

Yoshio looked genuinely terrified as he explained this to Masako.

“Why does she have a pair of scissors on her?”

“I don’t know.”

Now Masako was starting to feel a bit scared, too. She imagined this woman with crazy hair and a pale face, with the eyes of a fox and with a pair of scissors in her hand. Surely there was no way Yoshio could have imagined all that by himself. Somebody else must have told him to try and scare him.

“Who told you such a scary story?” Masako asked.

“Nobody,” said Yoshio, shaking his head.

“So you made it up yourself?”

“I’m not making it up! She’s really there!” Yoshio shouted, with tears welling up in his eyes.

Masako wondered if her mother or father might have told Yoshio such a story. First, she checked with her mother, but she knew nothing about it. Then, when Masako’s father came home from work, she asked him too.

“Why would I tell him such a silly story?” said her father, visibly upset.

That night, Masako woke up in the middle of the night with an idea. She got out of bed and went over to Yoshio.

“Wake up, Yoshio!” she whispered. “It’s time to go to the bathroom. If you don’t go now, you’ll wet the bed again. Come on! I’ll go with you!”

“No way,” said Yoshio, his eyes peeping out from under the covers, “I’m scared.”

“But there’s no need to be,” said Masako, reassuringly. “I’m telling you, there’s nobody in there.”

“Oh yes there will be,” said Yoshio. “She’ll be there.”

If you don’t go, you’ll wet the bed again. Come on, we have to go.”

The two of them got up and started walking down the long hallway towards the toilet. Masako was sure she could see Yoshio trembling.

“Yoshio, you really are a coward aren’t you? Stop shaking!” said Masako, laughing. But, inside, Masako was a little scared as well. What if there really was someone in the bathroom? What if there was someone wearing a Prajna mask? If there was, she would surely scream!

As they carried on down the hallway with its squeaky floorboards underfoot, Yoshio held Masako’s hand tight. His palm was now sweating and his body was trembling. When they finally reached the bathroom door, Yoshio squatted down on the floor and said, “I can’t do it. I’m scared!”

“It’s all right.” Masako reassured him, but her voice was quivering slightly too. So without saying another word, she gripped Yoshio’s hand tightly and slowly opened the bathroom door.

“You see?” said Masako. “There’s no one here.”

“That’s because you’re here,” said Yoshio. “If I was alone, then she’d be here.”

Masako wondered what she could do. How could she possibly convince her little brother that the woman in the bathroom didn’t exist? She couldn’t even convince herself that the stupid Prajna mask wasn’t scary! Perhaps she needed to find out the reason behind both of their fears. Perhaps then they would be able to overcome them.

The following Sunday, on the way home from the movies, Masako decided to ask Bunichi for advice.

“Okay,” said Bunichi, laughing, “so we’ve got a brother and sister and both of them are cowards.”

Noticing that he was the only one laughing, Bunichi cleared his throat and spoke in a more serious voice.

“Actually,” he continued, “my uncle is a psychologist, and he once told me that when people find out the cause of their fear, then that fear usually goes away. So maybe that’s the key to Yoshio stopping his bed-wetting.”

Encouraged by Bunichi’s words, Masako decided to get to work on doing something about her little brother’s fears as well as her own. Maybe then the other boys her brother’s age would stop teasing him and let him join in with their games. Then he wouldn’t always have to play indoor games with the girls nearby, such as Atsuko, who lived across the street, or Hisako, who lived two houses down the road. Masako’s mother would be happy too. She was quite a tough woman, and was a little embarrassed about her little crybaby son.

Later that day, Masako and her mother were sitting in the living room — with Masako reading a book and her mother busy with her craftwork — when all of a sudden Yoshio came running in with tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Oh Yoshio!” said their mother. “Have you been bullied again?”

“I was playing with Hisako and Atsuko, and Hiro called me a sissy!” said Yoshio between sobs.

Hiro was a first-grader and the biggest bully in their neighbourhood. But their mother was sick of hearing this kind of thing and was in no mood to cheer her son up.

“Oh come on now, Yoshio! I hope you didn’t just come running home without saying anything back to him!”

Yoshio stopped rubbing his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides.

“I did say something! I said I’m not a sissy!”

“And?”

“And then he kicked my book.” And with that, little Yoshio started to sob again.

“That’s awful!” said Masako, standing up. “I’m going to go have a word with Hiro!”

“No, Masako,” said their mother. “You stay here.”