When I started Suspecting my Wife of Cheating, I Somehow Ended up Living in the Middle of Nowhere - Episode 19

Renovating a house is fascinating. The wall, which I was most worried about, had already been redone. The ceiling probably should have been tackled first, but since it was in relatively good condition, no major repairs were necessary. The real problem was the floor. It wasn’t exactly “flooring”—more like plain wooden boards—but in several places it creaked when stepped on. It felt like it could collapse any moment. It wasn’t something you could walk on with peace of mind.

I decided to tear up the floorboards. Underneath was a foundation, and across that were horizontal wooden beams called neda. On top of that, there was supposed to be insulation, then boards, and if it were a tatami room, tatami mats on top. That was the typical structure.

In this house, however, two layers of wooden boards had been laid down with no insulation, which explained the musty smell. Moreover, the foundation work was sloppy, and the neda beams were rotted. It looked like there had once been termites. The wood was hollowed out and crumbling.

I ended up tearing out the entire floor. It made it a bit inconvenient to figure out where to eat meals, but half-hearted repairs would only mean doing it all over again later. If you’re going to do it, do it right!

Good thing it was summer. If it had been winter, I would have regretted it bitterly by nightfall.

With three of us working, stripping about 15 tatami mats’ worth of flooring wasn’t that big of a deal. We started pouring concrete over the floor. It turned out to be a grueling task.

One person stayed outside mixing concrete. We had bought “instant concrete” from the home improvement store, which just needs to be mixed with water. It’s a pre-mixed blend of Portland cement, dry sand, and dry gravel that becomes concrete once you add the right amount of water.

But man, it’s heavy! Everything about it—wet sand, gravel, water—was heavy. Mixing it alone was exhausting.

While I was huffing and puffing mixing the concrete, my daughters carried it inside in buckets. Not the entire load, but even covering the main areas meant a massive amount and incredible weight. And yet, my daughters carried 15-liter buckets, one in each hand, back and forth. Of course, the buckets weren’t completely full. But considering the density of concrete, even 10 liters weighed around 15 kilograms (about 33 pounds). It was impressive. They’re both skinny—where on earth do they hide that strength?

Normally, concrete needs two to three weeks to dry, but this instant cement sets in about 24 hours. We’d probably have to sleep upstairs on the sketchy second floor tonight, but working together gave us a real sense of accomplishment. There are faster-setting types, like 30-minute or 60-minute instant cement, but if you use those, you’d have to apply it immediately after mixing or it would start hardening on the spot.

Faster isn’t always better.

After leaving it to set for two days, we repaired the “tsukabashira”—vertical posts that support the floor. Some had been hollowed out by termites and needed replacing. We fixed them securely. Then we laid horizontal beams called “dodai” and “oo-biki” to support the structure, followed by crosswise “neda” beams.

Once the framework was in place, I laid down a waterproof sheet, scattered moisture-absorbing pellets, and applied termite-proof paint to all the wooden parts. Getting eaten by termites again would be a nightmare.

Then came insulation, and finally, the new flooring boards—the most expensive part of the project.

We carefully laid and assembled the boards. With three people, the work went smoothly. If I had been alone, I don’t even want to imagine it.

The last row of flooring needed adjusting to fit, but since I had a power circular saw, I could cut the wood perfectly straight. I was having fun cutting when my older daughter chimed in, “I want to try too!” and joined in. Meanwhile, my younger daughter was filming the scene on her smartphone for some reason. Kids these days, I don’t always get them.

Finally, we attached the “habaki”—the baseboard trim—along the bottom of the walls, and the first-floor renovation was complete.

“““Done!!”””

What was this feeling of solidarity? This immense sense of accomplishment? This incredible satisfaction???

I high-fived my daughters, celebrating our hard work. Renovating the house we live in with our own hands—it cost time and money, but it was cheaper than hiring any contractor and brought a satisfaction no amount of money could buy.

“How about a barbecue in the yard today?”

“Yeah!!”

“Meat!!”

Since there wasn’t a supermarket nearby, we took a little trip to a roadside station (michi-no-eki) and bought some meat and vegetables. Usually, roadside stations sell famous local products like branded strawberries. However, at Itoyori Village’s station, the offerings were rather plain. The plainest of them all? Konjac. There were several types, so maybe it was a specialty product.

“Dad, can we buy this too?”

My older daughter picked up some konjac.

“Ehhh, konjac? I want meat!”

Chieri protested loudly. I’ve never barbecued konjac before. We bought some along with the meat and vegetables, just for fun.

□□□ Update on Mom

Today, I got a call from the police. Thanks to an app on my phone that identifies callers, I knew even before picking up that it was from the police station.

“This is Officer X. Today, Mr. Seiji Zenpuku came to the station. He claims his wife was abducted and says it was you, his son, who did it. That’s why I’m calling.”

First a lawyer, now the police… This idiot just keeps coming up with new schemes. I sighed at the hassle.

Then, I decided to calmly explain the situation.

“My mother was a victim of domestic violence from him. She’s currently in a shelter, and we haven’t disclosed her whereabouts for her safety. A care manager has been helping us. Furthermore, he’s still committing financial abuse by controlling her assets. He even caused so much trouble at the hospital during her stay that he got banned from visiting. We’ve consulted the city about all this too.”

“I see… I understand now.”

The officer must have sensed that my father was the strange one and that my story made more sense.

“Could you please tell me the name of the care manager and the hospital, just to verify?”

“Sure. The care manager is… and the hospital is…”

“Lastly, could you tell me where your mother currently is?”

I hesitated but, reassured that it was really the police calling, I decided to tell them.

“Please, do   tell my father, okay? This is a domestic violence case.”

“I’m a police officer. I promise not to reveal it. He’s not even near the phone right now.”

“Okay then. She’s currently at the nursing care facility…”

“Understood. Thank you very much.”

“Likewise.”

Dealing with a deranged man like my father must be tough for the police too. I don’t envy them.