Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

  "Listen up. This is no joke. The police are scouring the town for you. First thing this morning, they've been making the rounds of hotels and inns, questioning everyone. They've already got a description of both of you. So once they start nosing around it's only a matter of time. The two of you stand out, let's face it. There's not a moment to lose."

  "The cops?" Hoshino shouted. "Gimme a break! We haven't done anything wrong. Sure, I ripped off a few motorcycles back in high school. Just joyriding—it wasn't like I was gonna sell them or anything. I always took them back. Never done anything illegal since. Taking that stone from the shrine is about the worst thing I've done. And you told me to."

  "This has nothing to do with the stone," Colonel Sanders said flatly. "You're a real dunce sometimes. Forget the stone. The police don't know anything about it, and wouldn't give a damn if they did. They're not going to be up at the crack of dawn beating down doors over some stone. We're talking about something much more serious."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The police are after Mr. Nakata because of it."

  "I don't get it. He's the last person you'd ever imagine committing a crime. What kind of crime? And how could he be involved?"

  "No time to go into that now. You have to get him out of there. Everything depends on you. Are we clear here?"

  "I don't get it," Hoshino repeated, shaking his head. "It just doesn't make any sense. So they're gonna tag me as an accomplice?"

  "No, but I'm sure they'll question you. Time's a-wasting. Don't bother your head over it now, just do as I say."

  "Listen, you gotta understand one thing about me. I hate cops. They're worse than the yakuza—worse than the SDF. They're awful, the things they do. They strut around and love nothing better than tormenting the weak. I had plenty of run-ins with cops when I was in high school, even after I started driving trucks, so the last thing I need is to get into a fight with them. There's no way you can win, plus you can't shake 'em off afterward. You know what I mean? God, how'd I get mixed up in all this? You see, what I—"

  The phone went dead.

  "Jeez," Hoshino said. He sighed deeply and tossed the cell phone into his bag, then tried to wake Nakata up.

  "Hey, Mr. Nakata. Gramps. Fire! Flood! Earthquake! Revolution! Godzilla's on the loose! Get up, already!"

  It was some time before Nakata woke up. "I finished the beveling," he said. "The rest I used as kindling. No, cats don't take baths. I'm the one who took the bath."

  Obviously in his own little world.

  Hoshino shook the old man's shoulder, pinched his nose, tugged at his ears, and finally roused him to the land of the living.

  "Is that you, Mr. Hoshino?" he asked.

  "Yeah, it's me," Hoshino replied. "Sorry to wake you up."

  "No problem. Nakata was going to get up soon anyway. Don't worry about it. I finished with the kindling."

  "Good. But something's come up—something not so good—and we have to get out of here right now."

  "Is it about Johnnie Walker?"

  "That I don't know. I've got my sources, and they told me we better make ourselves scarce. The cops are after us."

  "Is that right?"

  "That's what he said. But what happened with you and this Johnnie Walker guy?"

  "Didn't Nakata already tell you?"

  "No, you didn't."

  "I feel like I did, though."

  "No, you never told me the most important part."

  "Well, what happened was—Nakata killed him."

  "You gotta be kidding!"

  "No, I'm not."

  "Jeez Louise," Hoshino muttered.

  Hoshino threw his belongings into his bag and wrapped the stone back up in its cloth. It was the same weight as it had been originally. Not light, but at least he could carry it. Nakata put his things in his canvas bag. Hoshino went to the front desk and told them something had come up suddenly and they had to check out. Since he'd paid in advance, it didn't take long. Nakata was still a bit unsteady on his feet but could walk.

  "How long did I sleep?" he asked.

  "Let me see," Hoshino said, doing the math. "About forty hours, give or take."

  "I feel like I slept well."

  "No wonder. If you don't feel refreshed after that kind of record-breaking sleep, then sleep's kind of pointless, isn't it. Hey, you hungry?"

  "Yes, I am. Very hungry."

  "Can you hold off a while? First we have to get out of here, as soon as we can. Then we'll eat."

  "That's all right. I can wait."

  Hoshino helped him out onto the main street and flagged down a cab. He told the driver the address, and the driver nodded and sped off. The cab left the city, drove down a main thoroughfare, and entered a suburb. The neighborhood was upscale and quiet, quite a contrast from the noisy area near the station where they'd been staying. The ride took about twenty-five minutes.

  They stopped in front of a typical five-story neat-as-a-pin apartment building.

  Takamatsu Park Heights, the sign said, though it was on a level expanse with no park in sight. They rode the elevator up to the third floor, where Hoshino found the key, sure enough, under the umbrella stand. The apartment was a standard two-bedroom place, with a dinette kitchen, a living room, and a bathroom. The place was brand new, by the looks of it, the furniture barely used. The living room contained a widescreen TV, a small stereo, a sofa and a love seat, and each bedroom had a bed already made up. The kitchen had the usual utensils, the shelves stocked with a passable set of plates, cups, and bowls. There were smart-looking framed prints on the walls, and the whole place looked like some model apartment a developer might come up with to show new clients.

  "Not bad at all," Hoshino remarked. "Not much character, but at least it's clean."

  "It's very pretty," Nakata added.

  The large, off-white fridge was packed with food. Muttering to himself, Nakata checked out everything, finally taking out some eggs, a green pepper, and butter. He rinsed off the pepper, sliced it into thin strips, and sautéed it. Next he broke the eggs into a bowl and whipped them up with chopsticks. He pulled out a frying pan and proceeded to make two green-pepper omelettes with a practiced touch. He topped this off with toast and took the whole meal over to the dining table, along with hot tea.

  "You're quite the cook," Hoshino said. "I'm impressed."

  "I've always lived alone, so I'm used to it."

  "I live alone too, but don't ask me to cook anything, 'cause I stink at it."

  "Nakata has a lot of free time and nothing else to do."

  The two of them ate their toast and omelettes. They were still hungry, so Nakata went back to the kitchen and sautéed some bacon and spinach, which they had with two more slices of toast each. Starting to feel human again, they sank back on the sofa and had a second cup of tea.

  "So," Hoshino said, "you killed somebody, huh?"

  "Yes, I did," Nakata answered, and gave a detailed account of how he stabbed Johnnie Walker to death.

  "Man alive," Hoshino said when he'd finished. "What a freaky story. The police would never believe that, no matter how honest you are about it. I mean, I believe you, but if you'd told me that a week ago I would have sent you packing."

  "I don't understand it myself."

  "At any rate, somebody's been murdered, and murder's not something you just shrug off. The police aren't fooling around on this one, not if they've trailed you out here to Shikoku."

  "Nakata's sorry you had to get involved."

  "Aren't you gonna give yourself up?"

  "No, I'm not," Nakata said with uncharacteristic firmness. "I already tried to, but right now I don't feel like doing that. There are some other things Nakata has to do.

  Otherwise it's pointless for me to have come all this way."

  "You have to close that entrance again."

  "That's right. Things that are open have to be shut. Then I will be normal again. But there are some things Nakata has to take care of first."

  "Colone
l Sanders, the guy who told me where the stone is," Hoshino said, "is helping us lie low. But why's he doing this? Is there some connection between him and Johnnie Walker?"

  The more Hoshino tried to unravel it, though, the more confused he got. Better not to try to make sense, he decided, of what basically doesn't make any. "Pointless thinking is worse than no thinking at all," he concluded out loud, his arms crossed.

  "Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata said.

  "What's up?"

  "I smell the sea."

  Hoshino went to the window, opened it, went out on the narrow veranda, and breathed in deeply. No sea smells that he could detect. Off in the distance, white summer clouds floated above a pine forest. "I don't smell anything," he said.

  Nakata came over beside him and started sniffing, his nose twitching like a squirrel. "I can. The sea's right over there." He pointed to the forest.

  "You have quite a nose there," Hoshino said. "I have a touch of a sinus problem myself, so I'm always a bit stuffed up."

  "Mr. Hoshino, why don't we walk over to the ocean?"

  Hoshino thought about it. How could a little walk on the beach hurt anything?

  "Okay, let's go."

  "Nakata has to take a dump first, if it's all right."

  "Take your time, we're in no rush."

  While Nakata was in the toilet Hoshino walked around the apartment, checking it out. Like the Colonel said, there was pretty much everything they needed. Shaving cream in the bathroom, a couple of new toothbrushes, Q-tips, Band-Aids, nail clippers.

  All the basics. Even an iron and ironing board. Very considerate of him, Hoshino thought, though I imagine his secretary did all the work. They haven't forgotten a thing.

  He opened the closet and found fresh underwear and clothes. No aloha shirts, unfortunately, just some ordinary striped shirts and polo shirts, brand-new Tommy Hilfigers. "And here I was thinking Colonel Sanders was pretty quick on the uptake,"

  Hoshino complained to no one in particular. "He should've figured out I only wear aloha shirts. If he went to all this trouble, he at least could've bought me one." He noticed the shirt he had on was getting a bit rank, so took it off and pulled on a polo shirt. It was a perfect fit.

  They walked through the pines, up over a breakwater, and down to the beach. The Inland Sea was calm. They sat down side by side on the sand, not speaking for a long time, watching the waves rise up like sheets being fluffed into the air and then, with a faint sound, break apart. Several small islands were visible offshore. Neither of them had been to the sea very often in their lives, and they feasted their eyes on the scene.

  "Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata said, breaking the silence.

  "What is it?"

  "The sea is a really nice thing, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, it is. Makes you feel calm."

  "Why is that?"

  "Probably 'cause it's so big, with nothing on it," Hoshino said, pointing. "You wouldn't feel so calm if there was a 7-Eleven over there, or a Seiyu department store, would you? Or a pachinko place over there, or a Yoshikawa pawnshop? But as far as the eye can see there's nothing—which is pretty darn nice."

  "I suppose you're right," Nakata said, giving it some thought. "Mr. Hoshino?"

  "What's up?"

  "I have a question about something else."

  "Shoot."

  "What's at the bottom of the sea?"

  "There's like another world down there, all kinds of fish, shellfish, seaweed, and stuff. You've never been to an aquarium?"

  "No, I've never been. The place where Nakata lived for a long time, Matsumoto, didn't have one of those."

  "No, I don't imagine it would," Hoshino said. "A town like that off in the hills—I guess a mushroom museum or something would be about all you could expect. Anyhow, there's all kinds of stuff at the bottom of the sea. The animals are different than us—they take oxygen from the water and don't need air to breathe. There're some beautiful things down there, some delicious things, plus some dangerous things. And things that'd totally creep you out. If you've never seen it, it's hard to explain, but it's completely different than what we're used to. Way down at the bottom it's totally dark and there are some of the grossest creatures you've ever seen. What do you say when all this blows over we check out an aquarium? They're kind of fun, and I haven't been to one in a long time. I'm sure there's one around here."

  "Yes, I'd love to go to a place like that."

  "There's something I wanted to ask you."

  "Yes?"

  "The other day we lifted up that stone and opened the entrance, right?"

  "Yes, you and I opened up the entrance. After that Nakata fell sound asleep."

  "What I want to know is—did something take place because the entrance opened up?"

  Nakata gave a nod. "Yes. It did."

  "But you still don't know what that is."

  Nakata gave a decisive shake of his head. "No, Nakata doesn't know yet."

  "So maybe it's happening someplace else, right this minute?"

  "Yes, I think that's true. As you said, it's happening. And I'm waiting for it to finish happening."

  "And once whatever it is finishes taking place, everything will work itself out?"

  Another definitive shake of the head. "That Nakata doesn't know. I'm doing what I'm doing because I must. But I have no idea what will happen because of what I do. I'm not so bright, so it's too hard for me to figure out. I don't know what's going to happen."

  "At any rate, it's gonna take some time, right? For whatever this is to finish up and some conclusion or something to happen?"

  "That is correct."

  "And while we're waiting we have to make sure the cops don't grab us. 'Cause there's still stuff that needs doing?"

  "Correct. I don't mind visiting the police. I'm ready to do whatever the Governor tells me to do. But now is just not a good time to do that."

  "You know what? If the cops heard your crazy story, they'd just blow it off and make up some convenient confession, something anyone would believe. Like you were robbing the house and you heard somebody, so you grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed him. They don't give a damn what the real facts are, or what's right.

  Framing somebody just to jack up their arrest rate. They wouldn't bat an eye. Next thing you know, you're thrown in jail or some maximum-security psycho ward. They'd lock you up and throw away the key. You don't have enough money to hire some fancy lawyer, so they'd stick you with some court-appointed bozo who couldn't care less, so it's obvious how it'd end up."

  "I'm afraid I don't understand all—"

  "I'm just telling you what cops are like. Believe me, I know," Hoshino said. "So I really don't want to take 'em on, okay? Cops and me just don't hit it off."

  "I'm sorry to cause so many problems for you."

  Hoshino sighed deeply. "As they say, though, 'Take the poison, take the plate.'"

  "What does that mean?"

  "If you're gonna take poison, you might as well eat the plate it came on."

  "But if you eat a plate, you'll die. It's not good for your teeth, either. And it'll hurt your throat."

  "I'd have to agree," Hoshino said, puzzling over it. "Yeah—why do you have to eat the plate?"

  "I'm not so bright, so I really can't tell you. But aside from the poison, the plate's way too hard."

  "Um. You got that right. I'm starting to get confused myself. I never was one for using my head, either. What I'm trying to say is, I've come this far so I'll stick with you and make sure you escape. I can't believe you did anything bad, and I'm not going to just abandon you here. I've got my honor to consider."

  "Much obliged. Nakata can't thank you enough. I'll presume on you again, though, and ask one more favor."

  "Go for it."

  "We'll need a car."

  "Would a rental car be okay?"

  "Nakata doesn't really know what that is, but any kind is fine. Big or small is all right as long as it's a car."

  "No problem. Now you're talking my speci
alty. I'll go pick one up in a while. So we're gonna be heading out somewhere?"

  "I think so. We probably will be headed out somewhere."

  "You know something, Mr. Nakata?"

  "Yes?"

  "I never get bored when I'm with you. All kinds of off-the-wall things happen, but that much I can say for sure—being with you's never boring."

  "Thank you for saying that. I feel relieved to hear it. But Mr. Hoshino?"

  "What's up?"

  "I'm not really sure I understand what being bored means."

  "You've never been bored before?"

  "No, not even once."

  "You know, I kind of had the feeling that might be the case."

  Chapter 37

  We stop at a town to have a bite to eat and stock up on food and mineral water at a supermarket, then drive up the unpaved road through the hills and arrive at the cabin.

  Inside, it's exactly as I left it a week ago. I open the window to air out the place, then stow away the food.

  "I'm going to take a nap before I head back," Oshima says, nearly covering his face with his hands as he lets out a huge yawn. "I didn't sleep well last night."

  He must really be exhausted, because as soon as he gets under the covers and turns toward the wall, he's out. I make some coffee and pour it in a thermos for his ride back, then head down to the brook with the aluminum pail to fill up on water. The forest hasn't changed a bit—the same smell of grasses, birdcalls, babbling water in the brook, the rush of wind through the trees, the same shadows of rustling leaves. The clouds above me look really close. I feel nostalgic to see them again, for they've become a part of me.

  While Oshima sleeps I sit on the porch, sip tea, and read a book about Napoleon's 1812 invasion of Russia. Some 400,000 French soldiers lost their lives in that huge country in this massive, pointless campaign. The battles themselves were awful, of course, but there weren't enough doctors or medical supplies, so most of the severely wounded soldiers were left to die in agony. More froze to death or died of starvation, equally terrible ways to die. Seated there on the porch, sipping hot herb tea, birds whistling all around me, I tried to picture the battlefield in Russia and these men trudging through blizzards.