八 1

Ever since I was urged by Red Shirt to go fishing and came back, I began to suspect Porcupine. When I was told to get out of the boarding house on a false pretext, I thought all the more what a scoundrel he was. But then at the meeting, contrary to my expectations, he spoke at length advocating severe punishment for the students, so I cocked my head and thought, well, that's strange. When I heard from Hagino's old woman that Porcupine had negotiated with Red Shirt on behalf of Mr. Uranari, I clapped my hands and thought, that's admirable. From the looks of it, the villain wasn't Porcupine; maybe Red Shirt was the crooked one, and had quietly and obliquely seeped a baseless suspicion into my head—just as I was puzzling over this, I saw him on the bank of the Nogeri River walking with the Madonna, so from that day I concluded Red Shirt was a rogue. Rogue or whatever he was I couldn't say for sure, but at any rate he was no good. He was a man different inside and out. A man ought to be straight as bamboo to be dependable. Even if you quarrel with a straight man, it feels good. I thought one who shows off like Red Shirt—gentle, kind, refined, proudly displaying his amber pipe—was not to be trusted, and that you could hardly ever pick a fight with him. Even if you did, it wouldn't be the satisfying kind of fight like sumo at Ekoin. Then the one who seemed far more human was Porcupine, my opponent in that debate that shocked the whole staff room over a sen and five rin. At the meeting when he rolled his gold-flecked eyes and glared at me, I thought him hateful, but looking back, that was better than Red Shirt's sticky, cat-cajoling voice. In fact, right after that meeting, I thought seriously of making up, and tried to speak to him once or twice, but the fellow wouldn't answer and even glared again, so I got angry too and left it at that.

Since then Porcupine hasn't spoken to me. The sen and five rin turned face up on the desk still lies there. Covered in dust it lies. Of course I can't touch it, and Porcupine will never take it back. This sen and five rin has become a wall between us; I want to talk but can't, and Porcupine stubbornly stays silent. The sen and five rin has cursed me and Porcupine. In the end, even going to school and seeing that sen and five rin became painful.

Just as Porcupine and I became estranged, Red Shirt and I kept up our old relationship as before and continued to associate. The day after we met at the Nogeri River, when I got to school he came to me first thing and said all sorts of things: "Are you comfortable at your new boarding house?" "Shall we go fishing for Russian literature together again?" Since I found him rather odious, I said, "Met you twice last night, didn't I?" He said, "Oh, at the station—do you always leave at that hour? Isn't it late?" I shot back, "I also saw you on the bank of the Nogeri River, didn't I?" He answered, "No, I didn't go there; I bathed and came straight home." He needn't hide it so much; I saw him with my own eyes. What a liar. If a man like that can be a middle school head teacher, then I could be president of a university. From that moment I trusted Red Shirt less and less. I spoke with the untrusted Red Shirt, yet wouldn't speak with the admirable Porcupine. The world is a strange place.

One day Red Shirt said he had something to discuss and asked me to come to his house. Though I thought it a pity, I skipped the hot-spring trip and went around four o'clock. Red Shirt lives alone, but as head teacher he long ago gave up his boarding house and keeps a fine entrance. Rent is said to be nine yen fifty sen. Had I known that coming to the country and paying nine yen fifty sen would get you such a house, I thought I'd splurge too and send for Kiyo from Tokyo to delight her. Such was the entrance. On asking, Red Shirt's younger brother came out to receive me. This brother is a very poor student at school who takes algebra and arithmetic from me. Besides, being a drifter, he's slyer than any born country bumpkin.

When I met Red Shirt and heard his business, the Major, as usual with his amber pipe, puffing rank tobacco, said this: "Since you came, results have improved over the previous teacher's time, and the principal is delighted to have hired such a fine person—the school trusts you, so we'd like you to keep studying in that spirit." "Oh, is that so? I can't study more than I do now—" "What you do now is plenty. Only, that matter I spoke of the other day—just don't forget it." "You mean it's dangerous to have someone meddling in my boarding arrangements?" "If you put it so bluntly it loses meaning—well, never mind—I think the spirit is clear to you. So if you keep up your efforts as now, the school is watching, and in a little while if circumstances allow, I think your treatment may be somewhat improved." "Oh, salary? I don't care about salary, but if it goes up, up is better." "Now, fortunately a transfer has come up—of course I can't promise without consulting the principal—but from that salary some accommodation may be possible, so I thought I'd put it to the principal that way." "Much obliged. Who's transferring?" "It's been announced, so no harm in telling. It's Koga, actually." "Koga? But isn't he from here?" "He's local, but there's a circumstance—half his own wish." "Where's he going?" "To Nobeoka in Hyuga—being the place it is, he goes up one grade in pay." "Is someone coming in his place?" "The replacement is mostly decided. Depending on that, your treatment may be arranged." "Ah, fine. But no need to force a raise." "Anyway I intend to speak to the principal. He seems agreeable, but later you may have to work more, so please prepare yourself now in that spirit." "More hours than now?" "No, hours may decrease—" "Hours decrease and I work more? Strange." "Strange at first hearing—I can't say clearly now—but roughly, it means you may be given greater responsibility."

I haven't a clue. Greater responsibility than now would be head of math, but Porcupine is head and shows no sign of quitting. Besides, being popular with students, transferring or dismissing him is no good policy for the school. Red Shirt's talk is never to the point. Even if not to the point, the business was done. Then in some idle talk he went on about holding a farewell for Uranari, asked if I drank, said Mr. Uranari was a gentleman and lovable—Red Shirt argued various points. Finally he changed the subject and asked if I wrote haiku; thinking this is trouble, I said I don't write haiku, goodbye, and hurried home. Haiku is for Basho or the master of a barber shop. A math teacher robbed of his well-bucket by a morning glory—absurd.

Back home I fell deep in thought. There are men in this world beyond understanding. Though his house and home are fine, and his native town lacks nothing in his school, he says he's sick of it and goes to unknown lands to seek hardship. If it were a place with streetcars in a flower-like capital, still passable, but what is Hyuga's Nobeoka? I came to this good port town and within a month already wanted to go back. Nobeoka is deep in mountains, deep in mountains. Per Red Shirt, you land from the boat, ride a carriage a day to Miyazaki, then another day by cart to arrive. The name alone suggests no open place. Feels half monkeys, half men. Even saintly Uranari wouldn't choose monkey company; what a cruel fate.

Then as always the old woman brought supper. I asked, "Yams again today?" She said, "No, today it's tofu." Either way much the same. "Old woman, they say Koga's going to Hyuga." "Truly a pity, isn't it." "A pity, but if he goes willingly, nothing to do." "Willingly? Who'd do that?" "Who? He himself. Isn't Mr. Koga going of his own strange will?" "That's a great mistake, sir." "Mistake? But Red Shirt just told me so. If that's a mistake, Red Shirt's a lying braggart." "The head teacher saying so is natural, but Koga going willingly is also natural—not." "Then both natural? Old woman, you're fair. What's the story?" "This morning Koga's mother came and told me all." "What did she say?" "After his father died, their life wasn't as easy as we thought, and she was in trouble, so she asked the principal: he's worked four years, please add a little to his monthly pay." "I see." "The principal said he'd consider. She relaxed, and awaited the raise order, neck stretched, this month or next—then the principal told Koga to come. He went, and was told: sorry, school lacks funds, can't raise pay. But Nobeoka has a vacancy, there you'd get five yen extra a month, as you wished, so we arranged it; go.——" "That's no consultation, it's an order." "Yes. Koga begged to stay even at old pay rather than go for more, since he has a house and mother, but already so—

“Stories of the world, in your language.”