Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy

“Oh my God.” Amidst the stringent footsteps of the early weekend afternoon, a faint mumble sounded from a park bench. "I'm lost." Stripping her straw hat from her dampened scalp and reaching down to tie her loosened bootlace, Lucy scanned the crowds for anyone, anyone who seemed willing enough to help her find her way.

It should have been a rather simple task. Normally she would have gone up to nearly any person to ask for directions back home, but here–

But here's not home.

Dropping her bootlace and resting a sweaty palm underneath her chin, Lucy swallowed her nerves and looked.

Her eyes swiped right.

Maybe her? No, she's too busy with her kids.

Her eyes swiped left.

Him? Oh, so now he avoids eye contact.

Why the hell did she always have to do these errands by herself?

It's good practice for you!

Yuko and her uncle would say in unison at the door, one of them shoving a shopping list in Lucy's hands while the other would toss her outside towards the markets near Shinsekai.

If anything, her uncle should be doing these errands to improve his shoddy Japanese, but after the second trip Lucy stopped trying to wrap her head around their reasoning.

I'll give him another week before I officially pin him for a hermit.

She continued to search the streets for anyone willing to look her way for more than two seconds, fingers drumming anxiously in her lap.

Nobody.

Her head fell to gaze at her hands. For a moment she pictured the coal faces her brother would draw on her fingertips during nights neither of them could sleep and the make-believe games that would go on late into the night.

You get to be the cowboy this time, I get to be the sheriff!

Lucy dug her fingers further into her lap, nearly bruising her thighs.

「Mom, I'm ti~red! I wanna siii~iit!」

The cries of an exhausted toddler fell onto Lucy’s ears.

The small boy trudged behind his mother barefoot with sandals in his hands and kimono sullied with dirt and grass stains.

Only a hissy fit would end with a kid barefoot and sobbing behind his mom.

The mother couldn’t have been much older than Lucy, maybe twenty-four, twenty-six at the oldest, and they seemed to be returning from a morning at the nearby Tennoji Zoo.

Lucy still couldn’t wrap her head around “the joys of motherhood” or “the glory of bearing a child” or whatever the nuts at church would call it.

If she wasn’t deterred from it now after helping the midwife deliver her brother years ago, seeing this poor girl with a snot-nosed crying mess clinging to her for life was more than enough to completely turn Lucy off from “maternal bliss.”

I’d sooner join the sisterhood.

「Okay, okay, I know you’re tired.」 The pair stumbled over to the bench next to Lucy, only for the mother to scrunch her nose and yank her son behind her. 「Ah!」

「Poo! A bird pooped here!!」 The boy grabbed onto his mother’s hip and stuck his tongue out, steady sobs quickly turning into howling laughter.

While the young boy (and admittedly Lucy herself) found the whole scene to be stupidly laughable, the boy’s mother seemed to be at her wit’s end.

With a huff and a tisk, she briefly turned towards Lucy’s bench, completely clean and perfectly comfortable for three people.

Lucy’s palms grew hot.

「Um.」 Bunching her skirt and sliding towards the armrest, Lucy motioned for the mother to sit. 「Please?」

She cringed. Why’d she make it sound like a question?

Stupid!

The young mother just stared as if Lucy had three heads, one hand nervously gripping at her son’s shoulder. 「A…ah-」

Lucy could tell she was searching her mind for words, anything. Nothing came out.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, seconds that really passed like hours, the mother put a hand to her mouth and dragged her son past the bench, past Lucy, and onto the nearby street.

「Oh, uh-」 Lucy tried to get their attention once more, a shaking hand waving helplessly in the air. The boy, still barefoot with his sandals in tow, stole a peek back towards Lucy before his mother twisted his head around to face her.

She’s scolding him.

Lucy felt her hands go numb.

Nothing.

That was what she felt like as she watched the pair float into the crowd, the mother’s wagging finger in her son’s face serving as a reminder that Lucy was different, an oddity.

And to some, unnerving.

The numbness spread to her arms. How could she, or anybody live this way?

She folded her hands as she glanced at the stained bench.

Maybe the sisterhood wouldn’t have been such a horrible choice after all.