On the morning of September 13, 2011, a heavy rainfall in Aichi Prefecture was forecasted because of a typhoon threatening Kyshu and a stationary front in the western part of Japan.
Susumu Mizushima put his collapsible umbrella in his bag and left his house. It was cloudy and hot. Ten minutes later he came to Aratama-kobashi Bridge. On halfway of the bridge he stopped as usual, leaned over the parapet, and looked down at the Yamazaki River. He saw several carp and tortoises swimming peacefully in the transparent water. He breathed easy and rushed to Aratama-bashi Subway Station. He was a 60-year-old high school teacher and this was his last year before his retirement.
That day he had not recovered from his cold he had caught during the summer vacation. Though he was tired, he managed to teach three classes in the morning and one in the afternoon. After the classes he felt extremely exhausted and left school earlier than usual around five o’clock.
The subway he took at Hoshigaoka Station was not crowed. He sat on the seat till he reached Motoyama Station. He changed trains there. Unluckily the new train was crowded. Several passengers were standing near the door, so he went inside and stood. He put his bag on the floor between his feet. There were 200 examination test papers in his bag. He did not put it on the shelf in case he should forget it.
When the train arrived at Nagoya University Station, several students got on it. The door closed and the announcement was heard, “The next station is Yagoto Nisseki, Yagoto Nisseki.” He was feeling dizzy and wanted to sit on the seat. He looked around. A man around 30 years old in front of him was reading a book. On his left sat two high school girls talking noisily with each other. On the right side sat a girl around five years old and a woman who looked like her mother. She was absorbed in using her cell phone. Mizushima prayed, “Please someone, give me your seat.”
He was not able to remain standing any longer. He squatted down. His eyes fell on the floor. He was surprised. The floor was wet all over. Water about one centimeter deep was going backward and forward as the train swayed. He wondered where the water had entered from. He looked at the door. It was tightly closed and no water was leaking. He then looked at the joining section. There he saw muddy water coming in! The water was now more than two centimeters deep, yet nobody seemed to realize it.
He said, “Look, everyone, water. Water in the train.”
Nobody seemed to hear his words, which were drowned out in the noise of the running train. He again said in a loud voice.
“Hey! Water is in the train.”
Nobody paid attention to him. He became irritated. He snatched the book the man in front of him was reading and said, “Water is in the car,” but the man looked at him angrily saying, “What are you doing!” and grabbed it back.
Mizushima thought his high fever was causing hallucinations, when he heard the little girl saying, “Mom, water, water on the floor.”
Her mother said, “Don’t say such a foolish thing,” and continued using her cell phone without even looking at her child or the floor. Mizushima thought, “If the girl is saying water is in the train, I am not daydreaming.”
The water was about three centimeters deep. Mizushima picked up his bag and held it in his arms. His shoes were drenched. He heard the splash as he stamped on the floor. This was not a hallucination at all, he thought. Ever increasing water ran to and fro in the car making waves. He screamed at the top of his voice as if he were scolding his students.
“Everyone! Listen! Look at the WATER!”
At last the passengers realized the situation.
“Water! Muddy water!”
“What’s happened?”
“The rain. The heavy rain!”
“Yes, it was forecasted this morning.”
“A bank must have been broken.”
“Flood?”
“Never!”
Three high school boys seated behind Mizushima picked up their sport bags on the floor and put them on the shelf. The bags dripped onto them. The mother using the cell phone made her daughter stand on the seat. The water was now over ten centimeters deep. Muddy water began to leak from the door, too. The train slowed down and arrived at Yagoto-nisseki Station. As soon as the door opened, the water on the platform gushed into the car. Pushed suddenly by the incoming water, a man standing near the door nearly fell down. About ten people got off the train splashing against the flow of the water. Nobody got on the car. There remained about 30 passengers. The door closed and the train began to move. Now the water was as deep as the seats. All the children stood on the seats with their hands holding on straps. Those children unable to reach the straps were supported by their parents. The car was a muddy pool. The shaking of the train made the surface of the water vibrate. Now the water reached above Mizushima’s knees. His bag felt heavy. He put it on the shelf thinking that he should never drench it in the water. Several adults also stood on the seats. Water was gushing into the car through the joining section. Water began to leak from the ventilation on the ceiling. Passengers were wet. Some were drenched to the skin. Mizushima, worried about his examination papers, grabbed his bag, zipped it tight, and put it back on the shelf. His legs became icy cold. The children’s cries mingled with the noise of the rushing train. The water smelled bad. Mizushima felt his legs going numb. He felt he could not stand any longer, when an announcement was broadcast:
“Attention please. Attention please. According to the information from the Nagoya Subway Transportation Authority, the Yada River bank was broken and the north eastern part of Nagoya is now flooded. Hundreds of houses have been flooded. The water has run down into Nagoya Dome Yada Station and Sunadabashi Station and is now rushing towards Yagoto Station at an amazing speed. If the flood catches up with this train, we will be drowned. Therefore, this train will hereafter travel at full speed as far as Aratama-bashi Station. Aratama-bashi Station is not flooded at this moment. We are very sorry for your inconvenience. Thank you for your corporation.”
As Mizushima was listening to the announcement, the water became deeper and deeper. Now it was almost one meter deep. He was afraid, “If the water becomes another 50 centimeters deeper, I might drown.” Two men put a crying baby on the shelf. Her mother held her with both hands. As the train shook, the water made big waves. When it turned a curve, it ran to one side of the car, almost reaching the shelf. A PET bottle and a cap were floating on the water. The lights of the car suddenly began to flicker. The lights on the subway tunnel were running back one after another at full speed. They began to flicker, too. Mizushima was afraid that both lights would soon go off. Suddenly the car became bright. The train was passing a platform. Mizushima saw the electric sign in the back of the car. It read SOGO RIHABIRI CENTER STATION. He saw the platform running backward. The water on the platform was about 20 centimeters deep, 10 centimeters less deep than in Yagoto Nisseki Station platform. The train was running leaking water outside. The water in the car became 80 centimeters deep. Then without any caution, the llights of the train and on the tunnel walls went off. It became pitch dark.
“Aiiieee!”
“Mom, mom!”
“Takao, Takao! Where are you?”
“Kayo, hold my hand.”
“My dear, are you here?”
“Yes, here!”
The thunderous noise of the running train was drowning out the passengers’ cries in the darkness. Then the car became bright. "The train is passing Mizuho Undojo Higashi Station platform," Mizushima thought. The car was illuminated by the platform lights. He saw the water on the platform. It was about 10 centimeters deep. The next moment it became dark. He thought, “Two more minutes and I will be at Aratama-bashi Station.” The two minutes were too long for him. He felt as if the train would run eternally in the dark. He raised his hand and fumbled for his bag and after several seconds he grabbed it and held it under his arm. The cries ceased and silence prevailed. Mixed with a girl’s sobbing, Mizushima heard a woman saying, “Hang on, my child. We’ll soon reach the station.” The water decreased to his knee level. As the train dropped the speed, he felt the flow of the water pushing his body. The water seemed to flow toward the traveling direction. The light of the Aratama-bashi platform in the distance began to illuminate the car vaguely. The car gradually became brighter. Mizushima breathed easy. The train braked to a stop and the train eased into the platform. It was bright. The water with the PET bottle floating on it ran toward the joining section. The train stopped and the water counterflew pushing Mizuzhima’s body. He held his bag tightly. The door opened. The water in the car gushed out to the platform. Mizushima got off the car pushed by the passengers and the water. He stood on the platform. He felt relieved. The water on the platform was about five centimeters. He thought he had to hurry up, otherwise the flood from the Yada River would reach there soon. He began to walk with splash with his bag under his arm. He felt clumsy walking in the water. He felt as if his legs were those of a robot. He came as near as two meters from the staircase. Only a little water was flowing down the stairs. The escalator on the right side of the staircase was not working. He heard an announcement:
“This is an emergency announcement. Please evacuate from the platform as soon as possible. The Tenpaku River bank was broken and the water came down through Nonami Station and Tsurusato Station 15 minutes ago. Wait a moment, please. I’ve got a new message. The Yamazaki River has overflowed, too. Oh, god, water has come. Everyone, please evacuate in a hurry! Oh, no! Water, water!”
The announcement stopped.
Mizushima hurried to the staircase and began to climb it. When he climbed five or six steps, he heard a torrent of water rushing down the steps over his head. He looked up. Muddy water was falling down splashing with rage like waterfalls the width of the staircase. The water reached Mizushima’s feet in a second. He held his bag under his left arm and tried to grab the handrail with his right hand, but the gushing of water tripped him up and he fell on the steps, rolled down, and fell onto the platform. He inhaled some water, coughed roughly, and felt pain in his throat. He could not get up. The continuous muddy water was pushing him with tremendous force. He saw his bag flowing away. He crawled on his hands and knees, and managed to stand up. The bag hit the edge of the bench on the platform and began to sink. The water was about 20 centimeters deep above the platform. Pushed by the water, he at last approached his bag and reached for it, when all the lights on the platform went off. It was pitch-dark. He heard screams resonating with the noise of the water. He lost his bag. He was disappointed. It couldn’t be helped, he thought. His life was more important than the students’ papers. Water was now coming down from three staircases onto the platform and was eddying and striking the pillars. The amount of water falling down the steps was not decreasing. He felt a new current of water coming from the opposite direction. Instantly the water was one meter deep. Mizushima thought that the Yada River’s flood joined with the floods of the Tempaku River and the Yamazaki River. The water was increasing, one meter and 10 centimeters, one meter and 20 centimeters. The only noise he heard was that of the falling water, waves, and voices in the distance. It was pitch-dark. Mizushima thought, “I must be very careful not to drop from the platform down onto the railway tracks. The water there must be two meters deep.” He walked slowly in the dark weighing each step. He did not know which direction he was going, but he thought he would come to the staircase if he continued to walk in the same direction. He felt cold. His hands and feet began to go numb. He bumped against something. It was a large round pillar. Mizushima thought, “Here is a pillar. Then, on either side of it are the railway tracks. I have to be careful.” The distant voices gradually faded and all he heard in the dark was the noise of the water. Ack! Mizushima fell down from the platform onto the railway tracks. He kicked the water desperately. His face surfaced above the water. Treading water, he tried to find the platform, but his feet did not touch it. He was afraid he would drown in the dark. He was desperate. He changed direction and kicked and kicked for three minutes or so, when his foot finally touched the platform. He stood up. The water was now chest level. He had choked on muddy water again. He felt sick. After collecting himself, Mizushima thought, “There should be bumpy guide tiles for the blind along the edge of the platform. If I follow the tiles, I can reach the staircase.” He walked in the deep water for some minutes. His foot struck a pillar again. He stopped and extended his foot as far as possible keeping his hand on the pillar. After a few minutes, his feet touched something bumpy. This was it, he thought. He walked inch by inch feeling the bumps. He took off his shoes to feel the bumps better. The water was increasing incessantly. The flood from the three rivers was running down onto the platform. “I cannot die in such a place,” he thought. He paid the utmost attention not to lose track of the tiles. He could no longer hear the noise of the water falling down the staircase. Somehow the water had stopped rising. “Good, the flood prevention bars at the subway entrances have stopped the flood. If I move along the tiles and reach the staircase, I can get out of the water,” he thought. But it was pitch dark and he could not see the staircase. He heard water dripping from the ceiling. He smelled an offensive odor like sewage. He heard no human voices. “Where have they gone?” he wondered. He was exhausted. He was lonely. He thought he could no longer move, when he bumped against something hard. That’s a staircase! Faint light was streaming from above the staircase. No water was coming down. Total silence. He climbed the step holding the railing. It became lighter as he climbed the steps. When he climbed five or six steps, he happened to see something black floating on the water. It was a small turtle. He picked it up thinking that it would die in such filthy water. He put it in his trouser pocket. He climbed the steps one by one and finally came to the top of the staircase. It was dry. It seemed as if no flood had attacked the station. He breathed a sigh of relief, and advanced to the ticket wicket. Several passengers were going out through the wicket. He thought they were his battle comrades who had fought against the menacing muddy water in the dark. He looked at the clock above the wicket. It was 6:20. He thought, “It was past five when I took a subway at Hoshigaoka Station. So I have been struggling between life and death for more than an hour.” He reached the automatic ticket gate. How could they possibly check the ticket in such an emergency? he wondered. He touched his hip-pocket. It was wet but his wallet was there. He took out his pass and inserted it in the opening in the machine. Ping-Pong, and the bar closed the wicket. Mizushima was embarrassed. Was it because the pass was wet and so it did not work? A station attendant hurriedly came to the wicket, took out the pass, and said,
“Mister, this is not a subway pass. It’s a telephone card.”
Mizushima was again embarrassed.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I was upset because of the flood, you know?”
“Food? What do you mean?” the attendant said.
“What are you talking about? Don’t you know the Tenpaku River has burst its banks and the flood has gushed into the subway stations?”
“The Tenpaku River has burst its banks?”
“Yes, and the Yada River, too. Don’t you know that? I was almost drowned in the flood.”
“No kidding, please. No river has overflowed.”
“This is not a joke. I’m serious. I was almost drowned.”
Mizushima noticed a number of people passing through the wicket to the platform. It was strange. Why were they coming to the subway? If it was flooded, no passengers would come, he wondered.
The attendant said laughingly, “Yes, yes, you had a hard time. This time, don’t make a mistake. No telephone card. OK?”
Mizushima passed through the wicket and climbed huffing and puffing up 60 steps and went above the ground, to the Aratama Bus Terminal. It was cloudy. The streets were normal. The pedestrians were walking as usual. There was no sign of the flood. Wondering what had happened to him, Mizushima walked to Aratama-kobashi Bridge. He stopped halfway across the bridge and looked down at the river. It was not muddy. It was flowing as peacefully as before. Carp and turtles were swimming. The three street lights were shining on the bank.
“This is strange. Did I dream it? I choked on the water. I lost my bag. What has happened?” Mizushima wondered. Feeling something moving in his trouser pocket, he put his hand in it and felt the turtle. He pulled it out. It had mud on its shell. The turtle’s head gradually protruded. “Why, this turtle is proof that there has been a flood, isn’t it?” he said to himself looking at it. “OK, I will save this turtle,” He said and threw it into the river. It splashed on the water, sank, moved its legs frantically and surfaced. It began to swim comfortably. Good, he thought. Still he wondered whether there had actually been a flood. He did not understand. He gazed at the river. He felt his body moving backwards. He felt exhausted. He squatted down.
He heard the noise of the subway train running.
He heard the announcement.
“The next stop is Yagoto Nisseki. Yagoto Nisseki.”
He looked up and saw the man reading the book.
The End
