You know, our neighbor Mrs. Yoshida told me about this. Apparently there’s an app that lets you watch the heartbeat of a kid working in space, right from Earth.

My Haruki, well, he’s stationed at a base real far away. Way past the Moon. I still can’t manage to remember what it’s properly called.

Her son’s out there too, same base, and he told her, “Mom, you should get this installed.” The workers wear some little device while they’re on shift that records their heartbeat, and apparently family back home can watch the line, right from Earth. What a world we live in now. I put it on my phone that very day.

There’s this little jagged line creeping across the screen, bump after bump — that’s Haruki’s heartbeat. He’s alive, I thought, really alive, and I nearly cried the first time I saw it, I really did.

Then, one night.

One of those little peaks shot way up. Oh my, I thought. That’s — love. A mother just knows these things. When a single man’s heart starts jumping around like that, nine times out of ten it’s love. I called a few people I know right away and sent Haruki three names of perfectly nice young women.

Then the very next morning, it jumped again.

Maybe it wasn’t love after all. Maybe he’d caught a fever. I got worried and arranged to send him a rice porridge recipe and some throat medicine. Takes four days to reach him way out there, but better late than never.

And here’s the strange part. Every morning after I sent a matchmaking photo, the peaks would be sky-high. Every time I sent medicine, same thing. That Haruki really must be bursting with energy. He kept jumping around so much that I ended up sending nine more photos, some blood pressure pills, and even a good-luck charm to ward off bad spirits.

Does he write back? Hardly ever. Maybe once a month I get a single word: “Fine.” But watching that line, I feel like I’m right there beside him. No matter how far away he is, his heart is still turned toward me, always.

But then, last night.

The peaks went quiet. Dead calm, flat as can be, as if all that jumping had never happened.

I sat there staring at the screen for a while. And then I felt relieved.

Thank goodness. He’s finally settled down. Must mean he found himself a nice girl, or he’s feeling better now. Everything I sent must have worked after all.

Oh, that reminds me — last night Haruki actually wrote back, which is rare for him. Just a few words.

“Turned off notifications.”

…Notifications for what, I wonder. Well, either way, he’s settled down now. I already put in an order for some celebration rice. Something good must have happened to him.