Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (47 page)

"He's gone to Finland. Too many problems if he stayed in Japan. He'd never get any research done. He's going to set up a laboratory in Turku. Says it's nice and quiet there. They even have reindeer."

"And you didn't go with him?"

"I decided to stay here and live in your apartment."

"In my apartment?"

"Yes, that's right. I really like the place. I'll have the door fixed, put in a new refrigerator and video and stuff like that. Lots of broken things here. You wouldn't mind if I changed the sheets and curtains to pink?"

"Be my guest."

"I think I'll subscribe to a newspaper. I'd like to know what's on TV."

"You know, it might be dangerous there. The System boys and Semiotecs might show up."

"They don't scare me. They're only after Grandfather and you. What am I to them? Just now I sent away some gorilla and his little twerp of a trainer. Weird team."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I shot the big guy's ear off. Probably busted his ear-drum."

"Didn't people come running at the sound of a gun?"

"No," she said. "One shot could be a car backfiring. More than one shot would draw attention, but I know my stuff. One shot is all I need."

"Oh."

"By the way, once you lose consciousness, I'm thinking of putting you in deep freeze."

"As you see fit. I sure won't know," I said. "I'm going to head out to Harumi Pier, so you can come and collect me there. I'm driving a white Carina 1800 GT Twin-Cam Turbo. I can't describe the model, but there'll be Bob Dylan on the stereo."

"Bob Dylan?"

"He's like, standing at the window, watching the rain—" I started to tell her, but then dropped it. "A singer with a rough voice."

"With you in deep freeze, who knows? In time, maybe Grandfather will find a way to bring you back. I wouldn't get my expectations up, but it's not outside the realm of possibility."

"With no consciousness, I won't be expecting anything," I pointed out. "But who's going to do the freezing? You?"

"No problem. Deep freezing's my specialty. I've frozen dozens of live dogs and cats. I'll freeze you nice and neat and store you where no one will find you," she said. "And if all goes well and you regain consciousness, will you sleep with me?"

"Sure," I said. "If you still feel like sleeping with me by then."

"Will you really?"

"Using all available technologies, if necessary," I said. "Though I have no idea how many years from now that might be."

"Well, at least I won't be seventeen."

"People age, even in deep freeze."

"Take care," she said.

"You too," said I. "Good I got to talk to you."

"Have I given you hope for returning to this world?"

"No, it's not that. Of course, I'm grateful, but that's not what I meant. I was just glad to be able to talk to you, to hear your voice again."

"We can talk longer."

"No, I don't have much time left."

"Listen," she spoke. "Even if we lose you forever, I'll always remember you, until the day I die. You won't be lost from my mind. Don't forget that."

"I won't," I said. Then I hung up.

At eleven, I went to a park toilet and did my business, then left the park. I started the car and headed out toward the Bay, thinking about the prospect of being deep-frozen.

Crossing Ginza, I looked for my librarian friend among the crowds of shoppers. She was nowhere to be seen.

When I got to the waterfront, I parked the car beside a deserted warehouse, smoked a cigarette and put Bob Dylan on auto-repeat. I reclined the seat, kicked both legs up on the steering wheel, breathing calmly. I felt like having a beer, but the beer was gone. The sun sliced through the windshield, sealing me in light. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth on my eyelids. Sunlight traveled a long distance to reach this planet; an infinitesimal portion of that energy was enough to warm my eyelids. I was moved. That something as insignificant as an eyelid had its place in the workings of the universe, that the cosmic order did not overlook this momentary fact. Was I any closer to appreciating Alyosha's insights? Some limited happiness had been granted this limited life.

I wanted to think I gave the Professor and his chubby granddaughter and my librarian friend a little happiness. Could I have given happiness to anyone else? There wasn't much time left, and I doubted anyone would dispute those rights after I was gone, but how about the Police-reggae taxi driver? He'd let us ride in his cab, mud and all. He deserved his share of happiness. He was probably bdhmd the wheel right now, cruising around to his rock cassettes.

Straight ahead was the sea. Freighters, riding high in the water, their cargo unloaded.

Gulls everywhere, like white smears. I thought about snails and
suzuki
in butter sauce and shaving cream and
Blowing in the Wind
. The world is full of revelations.

The early autumn sun glinted on the water, an enormous mirror ground to powder and scattered.

Dylan's singing made me think of the girl at the car rental. Why sure, give her some happiness too. I pictured her in her company blazer—green, the color of baseball turf— white blouse, black bow tie. There she was, listening to Dylan, thinking about the rain.

I thought about rain myself. A mist so fine, it almost wasn't rain. Falling, ever fair, ever equal, it gradually covered my consciousness in a filmy, colorless curtain.

Sleep had come.

Now I could reclaim all I'd lost. What's lost never perishes. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to sleep.

Bob Dylan was singing
A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall
, over and over.

Birds

SNOW is falling heavily by the time we reach our destination. The sky presses, thick and solid, upon us. The mass of swirling flecks gravitates toward the Southern Pool, an unblinking eye in a world of white. Or does the Pool beckon the flurries down, only to drink them under?

My shadow and I are speechless. How long we survey the scene, I do not know. The disquietive gurgling I heard the last time I was here is muffled under the moist air. The cloud ceiling sags so low, the darkened form of the Wall looms even higher, grim behind the snow. It is a landscape befitting the name the End of the World.

My shoulders grow white as we stand there. By now the snow will have concealed our footprints. My shadow brushes off the snow periodically and focuses on the surface of the water.

"This is the exit. It must be," proclaims my shadow. "Nothing can keep us in this Town any longer. We are free as the birds."

My shadow looks up, then closes his eyes to receive a blessing of snowflakes. And as if heavy shackles have lifted away, I see my shadow regain strength. He walks toward me, however feebly, on his own.

"There's a whole world the other side of this Pool," he says. "Ready to take the plunge?"

I say nothing as the shadow crouches to unlace his boots.

"We'll freeze to death standing here, so I guess we might as well do it. Let's tie our belts together end to end. It won't do us any good if one of us doesn't make it."

I remove my hat, this regimental issue from some past campaign, given to me by the Colonel. The cloth is worn and hopelessly faded. I brush off the brim, then put the hat back on my head.

"I have been thinking it over…" I dredge up the words. "I'm not going."

The shadow looks at me blankly.

"Forgive me," I tell my shadow. "I know full well what staying here means. I understand it makes perfect sense to return to our former world, the two of us together, like you say. But I can't bring myself to leave."

The shadow thrusts both hands in his pockets. "What are you talking about? What was this promise that we made, that we'd escape from here? Why did I have you carry me here all this way? I knew it, it's the woman."

"Of course, she is part of it," I say. "Part, though not all. I have discovered something that involves me here more than I ever could have thought. I must stay."

My shadow sighs, then looks again heavenward.

"You found her mind, did you? And now you want to live in the Woods with her. You want to drive me away, is that it?"

"No, that is not it at all, not all of it," I say. "I have discovered the reason the Town exists."

"I don't want to know," he says, "because I already know. You yourself created this Town. You made everything here. The Wall, the River, the Woods, the Library, the Gate, everything. Even this Pool. I've known all along."

"Then why did you not tell me sooner?"

"Because you'd only have left me here like this. Because your rightful world is there outside." My shadow sits down in the snow and shakes his head from side to side. "But you won't listen, will you?"

"I have responsibilities," I say. "I cannot forsake the people and places and things I have created. I know I do you a terrible wrong. And yes, perhaps I wrong myself, too. But I must see out the consequences of my own doings. This is my world. The Wall is here to hold
me
in, the River flows through
me
, the smoke is
me
burning. I must know why."

My shadow rises and stares at the calm surface of the Pool. He stands motionless amid the falling snow. Neither of us says a word. White puffs of breath issue from our mouths.

"I cannot stop you," admits my shadow. "Maybe you can't die here, but you will not be living. You will merely exist. There is no 'why' in a world that would be perfect in itself. Nor is surviving in the Woods anything like you imagine. You'll be trapped for all eternity."

"I am not so sure," I say. "Nor can you be. A little by little, I will recall things. People and places from our former world, different qualities of light, different songs. And as I remember, I may find the key to my own creation, and to its undoing."

"No, I doubt it. Not as long as you are sealed inside yourself. Search as you might, you will never know the clarity of distance without me. Still, you can't say I didn't try," my shadow says, then pauses. "I loved you."

"I will not forget you," I reply.

Long after the Pool has swallowed my shadow, I stand staring at the water, until not a ripple remains. The water is as tranquil and blue as the eyes of the beasts. I am alone at the furthest periphery of existence. Here the world expires and is still.

I turn away from the Pool and begin the walk back. On the far side of the Western Hill is the Town. I know she waits for me in the Library with the accordion.

Through the driving snow, I see a single white bird take flight. The bird wings over the Wall and into the flurried clouds of the southern sky. All that is left to me is the sound of the snow underfoot.

* * * * *