"Isn't this weird?"
She wasn't even caring about her hands. It was so much covered with sand.
"It must be some kind of time capsule, but these letters don't make sense."
"Well, we don't know who and when these were buried. Maybe it makes sense for the ones who made this capsule."
"I don't think it does. This is quite weird."
I knew she would never change her mind once she's come to this I-believe-myself mode. What I should do is : just agree with it. That's what I've learned in these many years with her. In fact, I'm destined to agree with everything she says or does, ever since I was born and named "Yuzuru" - meaning "be in side with someone."
What am I doing in this beautiful sunday afternoon? I remembered; I was about to start hanging out the washing when she called me from the yard. I've never had any idea that my girl would find a time capsule at the foot of the beech in our yard. It's no wonder that there'd be one or two time capsules buried in our yard - our apartment was old enough to have any kinds of residents. Except I wasn't sure if the place was our yard or our neighbors' : though there were four doors in the first floor of our apartment the yard wasn't fenced off, so the borderline was left to neighbors' tacit consent. The beech was just on the borderline of our yard and neighbors', which made it difficult to clarify whether the tree was ours or theirs. We weren't sociable enough to care about getting to know our neighbors. We said "hello" to each other, but that was all.
Anyway, my girl found a time capsule - a bigger size of jar and two pieces of letter in it - under the beech tree in our yard.
We read the letters one after another. I felt guilt that we dug up the time capsule, and on top of it, read their letters without permission. But I couldn't stop her.
The letters seemed to be written by a couple. But one wasn't a love letter.
What the girl wrote was quite awful. She cursed at his boy for the film he'd chosen for their date, the present he'd picked for her birthday, the dirty socks he'd always throw around in the room or disgusting mustache in the sink after he shaved. She wrote that she hated him and they wouldn't work out so they should break up.
The words reminded me of a big fight we had two months ago. How come girls bring up past subjects at the fights, and make men feel betrayed - "You smiled at me and said thank you at the time. Was that smile a make up?"
Compared to her letter, the boy's was moving.
He first apologized for every rudeness and disappointment, and he admitted he may not be sensitive enough to suit her, but still, he wrote that she was the only woman for him and if he had chance to share his life with her he'd love to live together. He ended his letter with a line : "I would prepare a ring by the day we dig up this time capsule." It was discreet but passionate, and that made me even sadder to imagine what he would feel if he read the girls letter full of hate and anger.
Reading this letter my girl started, "This is weird." She didn't seem to have any thoughts for this man's propose.
"He seems to know what the girl wrote to him."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, don't you think? In fact, insensitive man wouldn't know that he's insensitive."
She seemed to mention about me, at least I felt she did, and I felt a little pain in my stomach.
"He must have read her letter, and he wrote this back."
"He couldn't be writing back. The letters were in the same time capsule."
"Well, maybe this isn't a time capsule. It's a mailbox - or a mail-jar. They put their replies in it."
"Doesn't make sense. I this was a mailbox, one would take a letter home and put a reply in it, so there should always be one letter in the jar. Now there're two."
"Well, then how could you explain his letter?"
Her words made me think that his letter was in fact odd. As a same man, I could never write a thoughtful and made-up letter without being badly admonished. He must have thought to himself many times after he read her letter and finally came up with his decision - to marry her.
Then an idea came up to me. "The girl's letter is also weird to me. It's like..."
I regretted what I said without thinking, but it was too late.
"Like... a burst of words at a fight."
"What d'you mean?"
"I mean, when you argue with someone, you just say abusive words you kept inside, you know. Her letter's just like that."
She thought for a moment. The silence was almost a fear to me, and for this moment I felt like a smallest animal on earth.
"Anyhow, this girl's letter doesn't sound like it's written in peace mind, preparing for a time capsule to bury with her boyfriend."
"That may be right. It does sound like a mental unbalance before period."
You wouldn't imagine how I was relieved to know she had agreed me.
"Besides it's clear that this is a time capsule from the boy's letter, so this must be something this couple decided to keep secret until the day comes."
I couldn't see if she was listening to me. Again, she thought for a moment.
"What would they do after they read these letters?" she asked eventually.
"Well... they may get married - if the girl's anger didn't that much, or they may just break up."
"Of course they would get married! Look at his romantic letter."
"Okay, then they'd come to a happy ending."
"It's NOT a happy ending." She gave me those "you don't understand girls at all" face. How many times I've seen this face. Now I have learned - that I would never understand girls, and it's much easier and faster to just fail it and wait for the right answer.
"Look. They would get married, and they would have a wedding with their friends, and there would be some friends who would chaff about the time capsule letter."
"It's fine for the boy. He would let everyone know about the most heart-moving letter he wrote in his life."
It wouldn't be fine at all.
"But how about the girl? She would expose the most hateful letter in her life, in front of groom's parents and family. She would regret it forever."
"Of course she would."
Now I knew what I should do: just agree with it.
"You may be right. What should we do?"
"Let's rewrite these letters."
I couldn't believe my ears. We'd done much wrong to dig up someones' time capsule, and plus, rewrite a couple's love letters?
"I... don't know if that's a good idea."
"We'll do good. They wouldn't know that we rewrote them."
"They should know their handwritings."
"We'll copy them. Beside,s they wouldn't see each other's handwritings so often."
"They should remember what they wrote and what they didn't write on their letters."
"They wouldn't reveal that if our letter was better than theirs, and what came out was better."
"We don't know who they are, or where they went, or what they said to each other, or..."
"No stories. Let's make it simple and straight."
"I'm not sure if it'll work out."
"It'll be alright. Besides, look at these sands on the letters. We can't just put it back as it was. They would know that we read them once."
That's why I didn't like the idea of reading these letters from the very beginning.
"Don't worry. This couple would live happily ever after. Imagine how wonderful it would be being a part of their happy ending story."
Her smile was so confident that made me feel it would be alright.
I knew this was the same confident smile - same as what made me decide that I'd live rest of my life with her two years ago.
"Isn't this weird?"