We stood at the docks near the Atomic Bomb Dome.
The wind came hard off the river. The kids pressed against Dani and me while we pulled our jackets tight.
A boat pulled away as we arrived.
I approached the attendant.
“Next one comes in one hour,” he said.
He pointed toward the ticket window.
“Also, buy return now. What time?”
“When’s the last trip?”
“Five-thirty.”
I looked at the kids.
“Yes. That one, please.”
We waited.
The sun came out for a while, warming the concrete. Dani bought orange juice. The kids ran along the retaining walls until the boat appeared around the bend.
It was low and sleek. We climbed aboard and found seats.
The boat slipped away from the dock, gliding beneath the bridges toward open water. We picked up speed. Islands slid past the windows, some small, others covered in trees.
One grew larger than the rest. Its peak disappeared into blue haze, its slopes covered in green.
I checked my map.
Miyajima.
~
Stepping off the boat, Dani spotted the deer almost immediately.
One was approaching a tourist near the dock. The woman reached into her bag. A wrapper crinkled.
The deer moved closer.
She held out her hand. It ate from her palm while she stroked its head.
Then it continued down the road.
Another deer lay in a patch of sunlight.
Corbin walked toward it. The deer stood and approached, sniffing our stroller and licking crumbs from the seat.
Corbin stopped.
He reached out and petted it.
The deer lowered its head.
Corbin was suddenly on his back.
“I’m okay,” he said, pulling himself to his feet.
The deer stepped around him, returned to its patch of sun, and lay down.
We kept walking.
~
A beach stretched to our right. Shops lined the street to our left. Few were open.
Dani ducked into a gift shop. I stood outside, rubbing my arms against the cold, then followed her in.
When I stepped back outside, the street had changed.
Shutters had opened. Doors stood unlocked. Smoke drifted across the street from a man grilling oysters.
Coffee stalls had lines. Tour groups moved between the shops. Hiking groups in windbreakers and hats headed toward the mountain.
We followed them.
The shops ended. A trail emerged from the trees.
Then came the first gondola.
At the top, we transferred to a larger one. It crossed a single span between two enormous towers, one car balancing the other.
When the doors opened, we stepped out above the island.
Boats dotted the harbor. Islands filled the distance. Trails wound down the mountainside.
The boys found telescopes.
Then they found rocks.
They scrambled up and down the overlook. I followed.
“Tag!”
I was suddenly it.
I had not agreed to play.
“Freeze!”
Corbin added another rule.
Then another.
We played anyway.
An hour later, the wind picked up. We climbed aboard the next gondola and rode back toward town.
~
The boys played in the sand beneath the torii gate. Orange and black, it rose from the water’s edge.
Sand squished between my toes as I watched them splash.
Behind me, a deer approached a woman. It sniffed her purse.
She pulled it away.
The deer grabbed the purse and pulled back.
The woman lost her balance and fell sideways. For a moment, she and the deer tugged.
The deer won.
A few minutes later, another deer approached a man holding an ice cream cone.
He reached out cautiously and rubbed its head with one hand.
The deer took the ice cream with the other.
I looked around.
Deer moved through the beach and streets in every direction. They sniffed jacket pockets and bags. They chased tourists. Some ran off with wrappers still hanging from their mouths.
I checked my watch.
Five o’clock.
The sun was slipping toward the horizon.
“Time to go.”
We headed for the docks.