Authors: Haruki Murakami
Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Mystery & Detective, #International Mystery & Crime, #Magical Realism, #Science Fiction, #General
Dance Dance Dance (35 page)
"Yumiyoshi," I said hoarsely.
"Yes?"
"Are you really there?"
"Of course, I'm here."
"You didn't disappear?"
"No. People don't disappear so easily."
"It was a dream then."
"I know. I was here all the time, watching you. You were sleeping and dreaming and calling my name. I watched you in the dark. I could see you, you know."
I looked at the clock. A little before four, a little before dawn. The hour when thoughts are deepest. I was cold, my body was stiff. Then it was a dream? The Sheep Man gone, Yumiyoshi disappearing, the pain and despair. But I could remember the touch of Yumiyoshi's hand. The touch was still there within me. More real than this reality.
"Yumiyoshi?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you dressed?"
"I wanted to watch you with my clothes on," she said.
"Mind getting undressed again?" I asked. It was one way to be sure.
"Not at all," she said, removing her clothes and easing under the covers. She was warm and smooth, with the weight of someone real.
"I told you people don't just disappear," she said.
Oh really? I thought as I embraced her. No, anything can happen. This world is more fragile, more tenuous than we could ever know.
Who was skeleton number six then? The Sheep Man? Someone else? Myself? Waiting in that room so dim and dis-tant. Far off, I heard the sound of the old Dolphin Hotel like a train in the night. The cr-cr-crr-creaking of the eleva-tor, going up, up, stopping. Someone walking the halls, someone opening a door, someone closing a door. It was the old Dolphin. I could tell. Because I was part of it. And some-one was crying for me. Crying for me because I couldn't cry.
I kissed Yumiyoshi on her eyelids.
She snuggled into the crook of my arm and fell asleep. But I couldn't sleep. It was impossible for my body to sleep. I was as wide awake as a dry well. I held Yumiyoshi tightly, and I cried. I cried inside. I cried for all that I'd lost and all that I'd lose. Yumiyoshi was soft as the ticking of time, her breath leaving a warm, damp spot on my arm. Reality.
Eventually dawn crept up on us. I watched the second hand on the alarm clock going around in real time. Little by little by little, onward.
I knew I would stay.
Seven o'clock came, and summer morning light eased through the window, casting a skewed rectangle on the floor.
"Yumiyoshi," I whispered. "It's morning."
* * * * *
About the Author
Haruki Murakami was born in Kyoto in 1949 and grew up in Kobe. He is the author of A Wild Sheep Chase; Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World; and The Elephant Vanishes. He lives with his wife in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
