The housekeeper and the professor - By Yoko Ogawa Page 0,13

was a word problem or just a simple calculation, the Professor made Root read it aloud first.

"353 × 840 =...

"6239 ÷ 23 =...

"4.62 + 2.74 =...

"A problem has a rhythm of its own, just like a piece of music," the Professor said. "Once you get the rhythm, you get the sense of the problem as a whole, and you can see where the traps might be waiting."

And so Root read in a loud, clear voice: "I bought two handkerchiefs and two pairs of socks for ¥380. Two handkerchiefs and five pairs of socks cost ¥710. How much did each handkerchief and each pair of socks cost?"

"So, where do we start?" asked the Professor.

"Well, it seems pretty hard."

"You're right. This is the trickiest one in your homework today, but you read it well. The problem consists of three sentences. The handkerchiefs and socks appear three times each, and you had the rhythm just right: so many handkerchiefs ... so many socks ... so many yen; handkerchiefs ... socks ... yen. You made a boring problem sound just like a poem."

The Professor was unstinting with his praise for Root. He never seemed to lose patience when time passed and they were making little progress; and like a miner sifting a speck of gold from the muddy river bottom, he always found some small virtue to compliment, even when Root was stuck.

"Well then, suppose we draw a picture of this little shopping trip. First, there are two handkerchiefs; then two pairs of socks—"

"Those aren't socks!" Root interrupted. "They look more like overweight caterpillars. Let me draw them."

"I see what you mean. That does look more like a caterpillar." "He bought the same number of handkerchiefs the second time but more socks. Five pairs is a lot to draw.... Mine are starting to look like caterpillars, too."

"No, they're fine. And you're right, only the number of socks increases, along with the price. Why don't we check to see how much the price went up?"

"So, you'd subtract ¥380 from ¥710...."

"Always show your work, and do it neatly."

"I usually just scribble on the back of scrap paper."

"But every formula and every number has meaning, and you should treat them accordingly, don't you think?"

I was sitting on the bed, doing some mending. Whenever they started Root's homework, I tried to find something to do in the study in order to be near them. I would iron the Professor's shirts, or work on a stain in the rug, or snip string beans for supper. If I was working in the kitchen and heard their laughter drift in from the other room, I felt terribly excluded—and I suppose I wanted to be there when anyone was showing kindness to my son.

The sound of the rain seemed louder in the study, as if the sky were actually lower there. The room was completely private, thanks to the lush greenery that grew up around the house, and there was no need to close the curtains even after dark. Their reflections appeared dimly in windowpanes, and on rainy days the musty smell in the study was stronger than usual.

"That's right! Then it's just a matter of simple division and you've got it."

"So, you get the price of the socks first: ¥110."

"Okay, but you've got to be careful now. The handkerchiefs seem innocent, but they may turn out to be tricky."

"Right. But it's easier to do the sums when the numbers are small."

The desk was a bit too high, and Root was forced to sit up very straight as he leaned over his problem, a well-chewed pencil clutched tightly in his hand. The Professor sat back, legs crossed and looking relaxed, and his hand drifted to his unshaven chin from time to time as he watched Root work. He was no longer a frail old man, nor a scholar lost in his thoughts, but the rightful protector of a child. Their profiles seemed to come together, superimposed on one another, forming a single line. The gentle patter of the rain was punctuated by the scratching of pencil on paper.

"Can I write out the equations separately like this? Our teacher gets mad if we don't combine them all into one big formula."

"If you're doing them carefully and correctly, he has no reason to get mad."

"Okay, let's see.... 110 times 2 is 220. Subtract that from 380.... That's 160 ... 160 divided by 2 ... is 80. That's it. One handkerchief costs ¥80."

"That's right! Well done!"

As the Professor rubbed Root's head, Root glanced up into