Kafka on the Shore (44 page)

She leaves behind a damp pillow, wet with her tears. You touch the warmth with your hand and watch the sky outside gradually lighten. Far away a crow caws. The Earth slowly keeps on turning. But beyond any of those details of the real, there are dreams.

And everyone's living in them.

When Nakata woke up at five a. m. he saw the big stone right next to his pillow.

Hoshino was still sound asleep on the futon next to his, mouth half open, hair sticking every which way, Chunichi Dragons cap tossed beside him. His sleeping face had a determined no-matter-what-don't-dare-wake-me-up look to it.

Nakata wasn't particularly surprised to find the stone there. His mind adapted immediately to the new reality, accepted it, didn't question why it happened to be there.

Figuring out cause and effect was never his strong suit.

He sat down formally beside his bed, legs tucked neatly under him, and spent some quality time with the stone, gazing intently at it. Finally he reached out and, like he was stroking a large, sleeping cat, touched it. At first gingerly, with only his fingertips, and when that seemed safe he ran his entire hand carefully over the whole surface. All the while he rubbed it, he was thinking—or at least had the pensive look of someone thinking. As if reading a map, he ran his hand over every part of the stone, memorizing every bump and cranny, getting a solid sense of it. Then he suddenly reached up and rubbed his short hair, searching, perhaps, for the correlation between the stone and his own head.

Finally he gave what might have been a sigh, stood up, opened the window, and stuck his face out. All that was visible was the rear of the building next door. A shabby, miserable sort of building. The kind where shabby people spend one shabby day after another doing their shabby work. The kind of fallen-from-grace sort of building you find in any city, the kind Charles Dickens could spend ten pages describing. The clouds floating above the building were like hard clumps of dirt from a vacuum cleaner no one ever cleaned. Or maybe more like all the contradictions of the Third Industrial Revolution condensed and set afloat in the sky. Regardless, it was going to rain soon.

Nakata looked down and spied a skinny black cat, tail alert, patrolling the top of a narrow wall between the two buildings. "There's going to be lightning today," he called out. But the cat didn't appear to hear him, didn't even turn around, just continued its languid walk and disappeared in the shadows of the building.

Nakata set off down the hall, plastic bag with toilet kit inside in hand, to the communal sinks. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, and shaved with a safety razor.

Each operation took time. He carefully washed his face, taking his time, carefully brushed his teeth, taking his time, carefully shaved, taking his time. He trimmed his nose hairs with a pair of scissors, straightened up his eyebrows, cleaned out his ears. He was the type who took his time no matter what he did, but this morning he took everything at an even slower pace than usual. No one else was up washing his face at this early hour, and it was still a while before breakfast was ready. Hoshino didn't look like he'd be getting up anytime soon. With the whole place to himself, Nakata looked in the mirror, leisurely preparing for the day, and pictured the faces of all the cats he'd seen in the book in the library two days before. Unable to read, he didn't know the names of the cats, but a clear picture of each and every cat's face was etched in his memory.

"There really are a lot of cats in the world, that's for sure," he said as he cleaned out his ears with a Q-tip. His first-ever visit to a library had made him painfully aware of how little he knew. The amount of things he didn't know about the world was infinite.

The infinite, by definition, has no limits, and thinking about it gave him a mild migraine.

He gave up and turned his thoughts back to Cats of the World. How nice it would be, he thought, to be able to talk with each and every cat in there. There must be all kinds of cats in the world, all with different ways of thinking and talking. Would foreign cats speak in foreign languages? he wondered. But this was another difficult subject, and again his head began to throb.

After washing up, he went to the toilet and took care of business as usual. This didn't take as long as his other ablutions. Finished, he took his plastic bag with the toilet kit inside back to the room. Hoshino was sound asleep, exactly as he'd left him. Nakata picked up the discarded aloha shirt and jeans, folding them up neatly. He set them down on top of each other next to Hoshino's futon, adding the Chunichi Dragons baseball cap on top like a summary title given to a motley collection of ideas. He took off his yukata robe and put on his usual trousers and shirt, then rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath.

He sat down again in front of the stone, gazing at it for a while before hesitantly reaching out to touch it. "There's going to be thunder today," he pronounced to no one in particular. He may have been addressing the stone. He punctuated this with a couple of nods.

Nakata was over next to the window, running through an exercise routine, when Hoshino finally woke up. Humming the radio exercise music quietly to himself, Nakata moved in time to the tune.

Hoshino squinted at his watch. It was just after eight. He craned his neck to make sure the stone was where he'd put it. In the light the stone looked much bigger and rougher than he'd remembered. "So I wasn't dreaming after all," he said.

"I'm sorry—what did you say?" Nakata asked.

"The stone," Hoshino said. "The stone's right there. It wasn't a dream."

"We have the stone," Nakata said simply, still in the midst of his exercises, making it sound like some central proposition of nineteenth-century German philosophy.

"It's a long story, though, Gramps, about how the stone got to be there."

"Yes, Nakata thought that might be the case."

"Anyway," Hoshino said, sitting up in bed and sighing deeply. "It doesn't matter.

The important thing is it's here. To make a long story short."

"We have the stone," Nakata repeated. "That's what matters."

Hoshino was about to respond but suddenly noticed how famished he was. "Hey, what d'ya say we grab some breakfast?"

"Nakata's quite hungry."

After breakfast, as he was drinking tea, Hoshino said, "So what are you going to do with the stone?"

"What should Nakata do with it?"

"Gimme a break," Hoshino said, shaking his head. "You said you had to find that stone, so that's why I managed to come up with it last night. Don't hit me now with this Gee whiz, what should I do with it stuff. Okay?"

"Yes, you are right. But to tell the truth, I don't know yet what I'm supposed to do with it."

"That's a problem."

"A problem indeed," Nakata replied, though you'd never know it from his expression.

"So if you spend some time thinking about it, you'll figure out what to do?"

"I think so. It takes Nakata much longer to do things than other people."

"Okay, but listen here, Mr. Nakata."

"Yes, Mr. Hoshino?"

"I don't know who gave it that name, but since it's called the entrance stone I'm guessing it's gotta be the entrance to something a long time ago, don't you think? There must be some legend or explanation about it."

"Yes, that must be the case."

"But you have no idea what kind of entrance we're talking about here?"

"No, not yet. I used to talk with cats all the time, but I've never spoken to a stone."

"Doesn't sound like it'd be too easy."

"It's very different from talking with a cat."

"But still, ripping that stone off from a shrine—you sure we won't be cursed or something? That's really bothering me. Taking it's one thing, but dealing with it now that we have it could be a total pain in the butt. Colonel Sanders told me there wouldn't be any curse, but I can't totally trust the guy, you know what I mean?"

"Colonel Sanders?"

"There's an old guy by that name. The guy on the Kentucky Fried Chicken ads.

With the white suit, beard, stupid glasses. You don't know who I mean?"

"I'm very sorry, but I don't believe I know that person."

"You don't know Kentucky Fried Chicken? That's kind of unusual. Well, whatever. The old guy's an abstract concept anyway. He's not human, not a god or a Buddha. He doesn't have any shape, but has to take on some sort of appearance, so he just happened to choose the Colonel."

Nakata looked perplexed and rubbed his salt-and-pepper hair. "I don't understand."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't get it either, though I'm the one spouting off," Hoshino said. "Anyhow, this weird old guy suddenly pops up out of nowhere and rattles off all those things to me. Long story short, the old guy helped me out so I could locate the stone, and I lugged it back here. I'm not trying to win your sympathy or anything, but it was a long, hard night, I can tell you. What I'd really like to do right now is hand the whole thing to you and let you take over."

"I will."

"That was quick."

"Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata said.

"What?"

"There's going to be a lot of thunder soon. Let's wait for that."

"You're telling me the thunder's going to do something to help with the stone?"

"I don't know for sure, but I'm starting to get that feeling."

"Thunder, huh? Sounds kind of cool. Okay, we'll wait and see what happens."

When they got back to their room Hoshino flopped facedown on the futon and switched on the TV. Nothing was on except a bunch of variety shows targeted at housewives, but since there was no other way of killing time, he kept watching, giving a running critique of everything on the screen.

Nakata, meanwhile, sat in front of the stone, gazing at it, rubbing it, occasionally mumbling. Hoshino couldn't catch what he was saying. For all he knew the old man might actually be talking to the stone.

After a couple of hours, Hoshino ran out to a nearby convenience store and came back with a sack full of milk and sweet rolls the two of them had for lunch. While they were eating, the maid showed up to clean the room, but Hoshino told her not to bother, they were fine.

"You're not going out anywhere?" she asked.

"Nope," he answered. "We've got something to do here."

"Because there's going to be thunder," Nakata added.

"Thunder. I see...," the maid said dubiously before she left, looking like she'd rather not have anything more to do with this weird pair.

Around noon thunder rumbled dully off in the distance, and, as if waiting for a signal, it started sprinkling. Unimpressive thunder, a lazy dwarf trampling on a drum.

Before long, though, the raindrops grew larger, and it was soon a regular downpour, wrapping the world in a wet, stuffy smell.

Once the thunder started, the two sat down across from each other, the stone between them, like Indians passing a peace pipe. Nakata was still mumbling to himself, rubbing the stone or his head. Hoshino puffed on a Marlboro and watched.

"Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata said.

"What's up?"

"Would you stay with me for a while?"

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere in this rain."

"There's a chance something strange might happen."

"Are you kidding me?" Hoshino began. "Everything's been strange enough already."

"Mr. Hoshino?"

"Yeah."

"All of a sudden I was wondering—what am I, anyway? What is Nakata?"

Hoshino pondered this. "That's a tough one. A little out of left field. I mean, I don't even know what I am, so I'm not the guy to ask. Thinking isn't exactly my thing, you know? But I know you're an okay, honest guy. You're out of kilter big-time, but you're somebody I trust. That's why I came with you all the way to Shikoku. I may not be so bright, either, but I do have an eye for people."

"Mr. Hoshino?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not just that I'm dumb. Nakata's empty inside. I finally understand that. Nakata's like a library without a single book. It wasn't always like that. I used to have books inside me. For a long time I couldn't remember, but now I can. I used to be normal, just like everybody else. But something happened and I ended up like a container with nothing inside."

"Yeah, but if you look at it like that we're all pretty much empty, don't you think? You eat, take a dump, do your crummy job for your lousy pay, and get laid occasionally, if you're lucky. What else is there? Still, you know, interesting things do happen in life—like with us now. I'm not sure why. My grandpa used to say that things never work out like you think they will, but that's what makes life interesting, and that makes sense. If the Chunichi Dragons won every single game, who'd ever watch baseball?"

"You liked your grandfather a lot, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did. If it hadn't been for him I don't know what would've happened to me. He made me feel like I should try and make something of myself. He made me feel—I don't know—connected. That's why I quit the motorcycle gang and joined the Self-Defense Force. Before I knew it, I wasn't getting in trouble anymore."

"But you know, Mr. Hoshino, Nakata doesn't have anybody. Nothing. I'm not connected at all. I can't read. And my shadow's only half of what it should be."

"Everybody has their shortcomings."

"Mr. Hoshino?"

"Yeah?"

"If I'd been my normal self, I think I would've lived a very different kind of life. Like my two younger brothers. I would have gone to college, worked in a company, gotten married and had a family, driven a big car, played golf on my days off. But I wasn't normal, so that's why I'm the Nakata I am today. It's too late to do it over. I understand that. But still, even for a short time, I'd like to be a normal Nakata. Up until now there was never anything in particular I wanted to do. I always did what people told me as best I could. Maybe that just became a habit. But now I want to go back to being normal. I want to be a Nakata with his own ideas, his own meaning."

Hoshino sighed. "If that's what you want, then go for it. Not that I have a clue what a normal Nakata's like."