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Authors: Ryu Murakami

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BOOK: Almost Transparent Blue
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Ryū, wouldn't you like a pizza, an anchovy pizza, with lots of tabasco sauce, so hot it prickles your tongue, wouldn't you like one?

The woman pushed Yoshiyama away and ran toward us. Her chin thrust out, she avoided the vomit on the floor and held her bared chest. I tripped her. Then I pulled her to her feet and tried to tongue-kiss her. She clamped her teeth together, shook her head, and tried to pull away.

Bastards, Yoshiyama said in a low voice to the passengers near us. On the other side of the glass, people were looking at us as if peering into a cage at the zoo.

As the train pulled into the next station, we spit at the woman and ran out onto the platform.

Hey, they're the ones, catch them! A middle-aged man yelled as he leaned out of a train window, his necktie fluttering. Yoshiyama heaved again as he ran. His shirt dripped with it and his rubber sandals rang on the platform. Moko, very pale, carried her sandals and ran barefoot. On the stairs Yoshiyama stumbled and fell. He got cut above one eye on the handrail, and blood streamed out. He coughed and muttered something as he ran on. At the exit gate Moko's arm was seized by a station official but Yoshiyama struck the man's face. We rushed into the crowd in the passageway outside. Moko started to sink down, I scooped her up. My eyes hurt; when I rubbed my temples, tears came. Waves of violent nausea seemed to rise from the tiled floor of the passageway, and I clamped my hand over my mouth.

Moko's legs got tangled up as she walked; the smell of the blacks that had clung to her until this morning was now all gone.

Puddles still stood in the garden of the general hospital. Avoiding the tire tracks in the mud, a child ran carrying a bundle of newspapers.

A bird was calling somewhere, but I couldn't see it.

Last night when I'd reached my room, I'd smelled the pineapple and thrown up violently.

When I'd sucked the lips of the woman on the train, her eyes had looked strange. I wondered what her expression had been.

Birds danced down into the apartment garden. The American couple living on the first floor had thrown some bread crumbs out. Looking around nervously, the birds pecked and swallowed quickly. The crumbs had fallen among the pebbles but the birds picked them out skillfully.

A cleaning woman with a cloth wrapped around her head had passed quite near, going toward the hospital, but the birds didn't fly away.

I couldn't see their eyes from where I was. I like birds' eyes with their round borders. These birds were gray with red feathers like crowns on their heads.

I decided to give the pineapple to the birds.

Light cut through the clouds in the east. The air touched by it looked milky.

When the first-floor veranda door rattled open, the birds quickly flew up and away.

I went back inside my room and got the pineapple.

"Uh, I thought I'd give this to the birds," I said to the woman who stuck her head out. She seemed friendly. Pointing to the roots of the poplar, she told me, "If you put it there, they can get at it pretty well."

The pineapple I threw down was smashed out of shape when it landed, but still it rolled slowly to a stop beside the poplar. The sound of the pineapple hitting the ground reminded me of the beating in the public toilet yesterday.

The American woman set out for a walk with her poodle. She saw the pineapple and looked up at me, shading her eyes with her hand, I guess because of the light, and she nodded and chuckled, saying I think the birds'll be glad.

"Hey, Okinawa, where'd you go the other night? I was worried about you."

"This guy, he went to a hotel, all alone in this place for couples," Reiko answered. "And, it's awful, well, he looks like this and they were suspicious about him, you know, and he just cut out through a window, wouldn't think of paying. Of course it would've been my money, but that doesn't matter."

That afternoon, Reiko had come over with Okinawa. He was drunk again and really stank, so I said, Let's get you shot up pretty soon and forced him into the bathtub.

Reiko whispered in my ear, Don't tell Okinawa about that stuff with Saburō and the others, because he'd kill me, O.K.? When I laughed and nodded, she took off her clothes and went into the bathroom herself.

Yoshiyama was mad because Kei hadn't come back last night. He hadn't even looked interested when Okinawa showed him the new Doors' record he'd brought.

We could hear Reiko's moans from the bathroom. Looking disgusted, Moko said, "Ryū, put on some music, I'm sick of just fucking, I think there must be something else, I mean, some other ways to have fun."

As I lowered the needle on The Doors' record, Kazuo showed up, limping, with Kei holding him up by the shoulder. We've come to get a souvenir from the party—you got anything? They were both already stoned on Nibrole and they tongue-kissed right there in front of Yoshiyama.

Even while their lips were together, they looked at him as if they could hardly keep from laughing.

Yoshiyama suddenly grabbed Moko, who was lying next to him on the bed reading a magazine, and tried to kiss her. What I are you doing, cut it out, in broad daylight, too! That's all you know how to do, Moko yelled and pushed him away. Yoshiyama glared at Kei, who was laughing at the scene. Tossing the magazine on the rug, Moko said, Ryū, I'm going home, I'm sick and tired of this.

She pulled on the velvet dress she'd worn when she'd come.

"Kei, where'd you stay last night?" Yoshiyama asked, getting up off the bed.

"Kazuo's place."

"Was Reiko with you?"

"Reiko went to a hotel with Okinawa, a place called the Shin Okubo Love Palace, she said all the ceilings there are made of mirrors."

"You screwed Kazuo?"

Moko shook her head as she listened to them talking. She quickly put on some makeup, fixed her hair, and tapped me on the shoulder. "Give me some hash, Ryū."

"Can ya really say that kind of thing, with everybody listening in?"

"Yeah, don't talk that way, Yoshiyama, didn't she just come along with me because I got hurt? Don't talk funny in front of everybody," Kazuo sneered, then asked me, "Didn't that strobe turn up?"

When I shook my head, he bent down to stroke the bandage around his ankle and muttered, "It cost me ¥20,000 and I'd just bought it, too."

"Hey, Ryū, walk me to the station," Moko said, slipping on her shoes by the door and looking in the mirror to straighten her hat.

"Hey, Moko, you're leaving?" asked Reiko, a towel wrapped around her body, as she drank a coke from the refrigerator.

On the way to the station Moko begged me to buy her a girls' magazine and some cigarettes. The girl from the sales stand, sprinkling water on the sidewalk, recognized me and said, Hey, that's nice, you're on a date. Her bright cream-colored slacks fit tightly, I could see the line of her panties. As she wiped her wet hands on her apron and handed me the cigarettes, she glanced at Moko's red-enameled toenails.

"Does your ass still hurt?" I asked Moko.

"Well, a little when I go to the can, but that guy Jackson is real sweet, he brought me this scarf from the shop at the Base, it's Lanvin."

"You'd do it again? Me, I'm really worn out."

"Yeah, well, it did get kind of rough, but if there's another party I guess I'd go, there aren't really many times you can have fun, are there? When nothing's fun anymore, I'll just get married."

"Huh? You plan to get married?"

"Sure, of course, you thought I didn't?"

A truck made a wild right turn at the intersection, and dust whirled up around us.

Fine sand had gotten into my eyes and mouth. I spit it out. Damn driver, muttered the postman who'd gotten off his bicycle and was rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, Ryū, it's about Yoshiyama, keep an eye on him, because he beats up Kei a lot. When he gets drunk he's really mean, kicking her and stuff. Talk to him about it, O.K.?"

"He really means it? He doesn't really mean it, does he?"

"What are you talking about? One time she got a tooth broken. I don't know about that Yoshiyama, because he's like a different guy when he's drunk.

Anyway, watch out for him."

"Are your folks O.K., Moko?"

"Yeah, well, my dad's been kind of sick, but my brother— hey, don't you know about him, Ryū?—he's just too straight. That's why I've ended up like this, but these days they're kind of resigned about it, you know, and when I said my photo's in An-An, my mother was glad, so I guess it's O.K."

"Hey, it's already summer, hasn't been much rain though, has there?"

"Yeah, Ryū, it's about that movie Woodstock but—did you see it?"

"Sure, why?"

"Don't you want to see it again, now? I wonder if it would be a letdown to see it now or not, what do you think?"

"Sure it'd be a letdown, but Jimi Hendrix would be great, he was really great."

"Yeah, it would be a letdown, wouldn't it? But maybe we'd feel something after all, but then afterwards it'd probably be a letdown, but I'd like to try and see it."

Yelling Yahyahyah, Tami and Bob flew past in a yellow sports car. Moko laughed, waved, and crushed out her cigarette with the slender high heel of her shoe.

"Have ya got any right to talk like that? What do ya mean to do, it's not just because we're not married or anything, what should Ah do, what do ya want?

Ya want me to say Ah love ya? Is that it? Sure Ah'll say it, but just keep your hands off of me, and stop hassling me, Ah'm asking ya."

"Kei, it's not like that, don't get mad, it's not like that, what I'm saying is, you know, let's stop wearing each other out, right? We're just wearing each other out all the time, right? Let's stop, you know? You hear me, Kei?"

"Ah hear ya, hurry up, get it over with."

"I don't want to break up with you. I'll work on the docks, you know, in Yokohama I can get ¥6000 a day so it's really something, right? I can really make it and not use your bread anymore, I don't care if you mess around with other guys, I didn't say anything even about those black guys, right? Anyway let's just stop wearing each other out, it's just no good fighting like this, right? I'll go to work, tomorrow even, I'm real strong."

Kazuo's arm lay on Kei's shoulders. She didn't try to remove it. Right there in front of Yoshiyama, Kazuo crunched and swallowed two Nibrole pills and sneered at the two fighting.

Wearing just his pants, steam rising from his body, Okinawa sat on the kitchen floor and shot up with heroin.

Twisting her face, Reiko stuck the needle into the palm of her hand. Hey, Reiko, when did you learn to shoot up like that? Okinawa asked. Flustered, Reiko looked at me and winked. Why, Ryū showed me, of course.

"You're getting kind of stretched down there, Reiko."

"Don't talk funny. Me, I hate sex, don't you believe me? I don't have it with anybody but you."

Kei stood up, put on the Boz "First Album," and turned up the volume really high.

Yoshiyama said something but she pretended not to hear. He stretched out his hand to the amp to lower the sound and said, I've got something to talk over with you.

"There's nothing to talk over, Ah want to listen to Boz, hey, make it louder."

"Kei, that kiss mark on your neck's from Kazuo? Right? From Kazuo?"

"Ya idiot, it's from the party, one of the black guys. Look, see here? What a black guy did."

Kei rolled up her skirt and showed a big kiss mark on her thigh. Cut it out, Kei, Kazuo said. He pulled down her skirt.

"Yeah, I know about the one on your leg, but the one on your neck wasn't there yesterday, right? Hey, Ryū, it wasn't there, right? I guess you did it, Kazuo, it's O.K. if you did, but just say so, Kazuo."

"My mouth isn't that big, is it? And if it's O.K., you don't have to make such a big thing of it, right?"

"Hey, Ryū, turn up the sound. Ever since Ah got up this morning Ah've been wanting to hear this, so that's why Ah came all the way over here, turn up the sound."

I was lying on the bed and pretended not to hear Kei. It was too much trouble to get up and walk over to the amps. I trimmed my toenails. Reiko and Okinawa had spread out a blanket in the kitchen and were lying there on their stomachs.

"I'm not talking about any kiss mark or anything, I'm just saying what I always say. I'm saying something more—you know, basic. We should just be a little more, you know, better, you know, take care of each other, that's what I mean.

We're living at kind of a different level from all the straights, so let's take care of each other."

Rubbing his leg, Kazuo asked, "What's all that shit, Yoshiyama? A different level from the straights? What're you talking about?"

Without looking at him, Yoshiyama said in a low voice, "None of your business."

My toenails had a smell just like the pineapple. There was something poking my back; when I pulled aside the pillow and looked, it was the bra Moko had forgotten.

The wired bra was embroidered with flowers and smelled of detergent. I tossed it in the closet. The silver negligee was hanging there. I remembered the taste of Jackson's warm come and felt sick. I felt there must be a little bit left somewhere in my mouth; when I ran my tongue around, sometimes the taste seemed to come back. I tossed the nail parings on the veranda. I could see a woman walking a German shepherd in the garden of the hospital. She greeted someone passing her and stopped to talk. The dog pulled the chain taut. From where I was, the inside of the woman's mouth looked black, like back in the days when women used to dye their teeth, I thought her teeth must be really bad. She hid her mouth when she laughed. The dog strained forward and whined loudly.

"We, you know, we need each other. I mean, I don't know, but you're all I've got left, my mom's gone, and there're a lot of people against us, right? It'll be a bad scene if that welfare office guy finds you, and when they get me again this time it won't be just the juvie pen. We should help each other, just like we used to, remember how we swam in that river in Kyoto? I want things to be like they were back then, when we were just getting to know each other. I don't know why we have to fight like this, let's try and get along better, money's no problem, we've made out so far, and I'll go to work again. Hey, look, I'll go get a table and some shelves and stuff from that place Moko told us about in Roppongi, and there still seems to be a dresser and oven or something there, too. And then, Kei, you can paint them again.

BOOK: Almost Transparent Blue
11.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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