十一 2

“Because if I leave it, I figure it’ll just be glossed over one way or another.” “That makes it worse. Who’s going to manage both at once?” “Besides, ever since Koga left, the replacement still hasn’t arrived on account of an accident. On top of that, if they kick both you and me out at the same time, there’ll be gaps in the students’ schedule and it’ll interfere with classes.” “So you mean to wedge me in between as a stopgap and have me stay on? You bastard—who’s falling for that trick?”

The next day I went to school and went into the principal’s office to argue my case. “Why is it you’re not telling me to hand in my resignation?” “Eh?” The old fox looked utterly taken aback. “You tell Hori to hand his in, but say I don’t have to. Where’s the fairness in that?” “That’s a matter of the school’s circumstances…” “That circumstance of yours is dead wrong. If I can get by without handing one in, then Hori has no need to either.” “I can’t quite explain that part—but while it can’t be helped if Hori leaves, I don’t see any need for you to submit a resignation.”

Sure enough, a fox. He just spouts evasions and yet stays perfectly composed. Having no other option, I said: “Then I’ll hand in my resignation too. You may think you can send Hori off alone and have me sit pretty and stay on, but I’m not heartless enough for that.” “That’s a problem. If Hori goes and you go too, the school’s math classes will be completely impossible…” “If they become impossible, that’s no concern of mine.” “Don’t be so stubborn. You’ve got to show some consideration for the school’s situation. Besides, if you resign not even a month after arriving, it’ll affect your future record. You ought to think about that too.” “Who cares about a record? Duty comes before a record.” “Well, you’re right—everything you say is right, but please show a little understanding for my side too. If you absolutely insist on resigning, you may, but please carry on until a replacement is found. Anyway, please reconsider it once more on our end.”

Reconsider, he says—the reason is perfectly clear and needs no reconsidering, but the fox went pale and red by turns, and I felt sorry for him, so I withdrew on the understanding that I’d reconsider. I didn’t exchange a word with Red Shirt. If I was going to nail him, better to lump it all together and nail him good.

When I told Porcupine how the talk with the fox went, he’d figured as much. He said it’d be fine to leave the resignation matter as is until the time came, so I did as Porcupine advised. Porcupine seems smarter than me, so I decided to follow his advice in everything.

Porcupine went ahead and handed in his resignation, gave the faculty a farewell address, and went down to Hamaya at the harbor—but then slipped back unseen and holed up on the front second floor of Masuya in the hot-spring town, boring a hole in the shoji to peep through. Probably only me and him know about this. If Red Shirt sneaks in, it’ll surely be at night. And with students and others about in the early evening, it’s fixed at no earlier than nine. The first two nights I kept watch till around eleven, but not a shadow of Red Shirt. On the third night I peeped from nine to half past ten, still no good. No point in dragging back to the boarding house at midnight for nothing. After four or five days, our old landlady started worrying, and since his wife was there, advised him it’d be better to quit the nightcarousing. This isn’t the nightcarousing of nightcarousing. Ours is nightcarousing to execute heaven’s punishment in heaven’s stead. Even so, after a week of going and not a sign, you get sick of it. I’m impatient by nature—when I get keen I’ll work through the night, but then nothing ever lasts. Even a heaven’s-punishment gang gets bored. By the sixth day I was a bit sick of it; by the seventh I thought of quitting. Porcupine, though, is stubborn. From evening till past twelve he keeps his eye to the shoji, glaring at the gas lamp at Kadoya. When I went, he’d show all sorts of statistics—how many guests, how many staying over, how many women. I was amazed. When I said seems like he’s not coming, he’d go “Mm, he should surely come,” and sigh with arms folded. Poor guy—if Red Shirt never comes here once, Porcupine will never get to execute heaven’s punishment his whole life.

On the eighth day I left the boarding house around seven, first took a slow bath, then bought eight chicken eggs in town. This was a tactic to answer the landlady’s potato-torture. With four eggs in each sleeve, the red towel on my shoulder, hands in sleeves, I climbed Masuya’s stairs and slid open Porcupine’s shoji—and his face, like a running god, lit up: “Promising, promising!” Till last night he’d been a bit gloomy; even I watching thought it dismal, but seeing his face I cheered up too and blurted “Great, great” before hearing anything. “Around seven-thirty tonight that geisha called O-Suzu went into Kadoya.” “With Red Shirt?” “No.” “Then it’s no good.” “She was with another geisha, but—looks promising.” “Why?” “Why—a sly dog like that might send the geisha ahead and sneak in after.” “Might be. Must be near nine?” “Just past nine twelve,” he said, pulling a nickel watch from his belt, then, “Hey, blow out the lamp—two bald heads on the shoji would look odd. The fox gets suspicious fast.”

I puffed out the table lamp. Starlight left the shoji faintly lit. Moon not up yet. Porcupine and I pressed faces to the shoji, holding breath. The pillar clock chimed nine-thirty. “Hey, think he’ll come? If not tonight, I’m done.” “I’ll go as long as my money holds.” “Money? How much you got?” “Paid eight days, five yen sixty sen, through today. I settle every night so I can bolt anytime.” “Well prepared. Inn must be shocked.” “Inn’s fine, but I can’t relax, that’s the trouble.” “But you nap in the day.” “I nap, but can’t go out, so cramped to death.” “Heaven’s punishment is hard labor. If the net of heaven is wide and loose and lets him slip, that’d be dull.” “Nah, he’s coming tonight.—Hey look, look,” he whispered; I started. A man in a black hat passed from the gas lamp at Kadoya, looking up, into the dark. No—wait, I thought. Then the front desk clock struck ten without mercy. Tonight too, seems no good.

The world grew quiet. The drum from the pleasure quarter rang clear. The moon peered from behind the hot-spring hills. The street bright. Then voices from below. Can’t stick my head out the window, so can’t fix the figures, but they drew near. Clogs scraping, karan-karan. Tilting my eyes, two shadows came close enough to see. “All’s safe now. I’ve driven off the nuisance,”—surely Noda’s voice. “All bluster, no plan, so nothing to do,”—Red Shirt. “That man’s like a beranmee too. A beranmee like that, all hot-blooded young master, has charm.” “Raise refused, resignation wanted—that’s surely a nervous disorder.” I thought to fling the window, leap from the second floor, and beat them flat, but barely held. They laughed ha-ha, passed under the gas lamp, entered Kadoya. “Hey.” “Hey.” “Came.” “Finally came.” “Now at last at ease.” “Noda bastard called me a hot-blooded young master.” “The nuisance is me. Damned rude.”

Porcupine and I must ambush their return. But no telling when they’ll come out. Porcupine went down and told them: might have business at midnight, so leave the door open. Looking back, the inn agreed surprisingly; most places’d mistake him for a thief.

Waiting for Red Shirt to come was hard, but sitting waiting for him to leave is harder. Can’t sleep, can’t glare through the shoji gap forever, and my mind won’t settle—never such misery. I proposed bursting into Kadoya and catching them in the act, but Porcupine flatly rejected it: if we charge in now they’ll call us rioters and stop us; if we explain and ask to meet, they’ll hide or show a different room; even if we could break in, no telling which of dozens of rooms; so bear it and wait. We endured till five in the morning.

The moment we saw two shadows leave Kadoya, we tailed. No first train yet, so they must walk to the castle town. Past the spa, a cedar avenue of a cho, then paddies. Beyond, thatched roofs, then a single embankment path through fields to town. Once out of town, anywhere’s fine, but best to catch them in the avenue with no houses. We followed hidden. Out of town they broke into a run; we chased like wind and caught up. “Wait,” I said, hand on the shoulder of the one turning in shock. Noda looked to flee in panic, so I swung in front to block. “A head teacher—why lodge at Kadoya?” Porcupine snapped at once. “Is there a rule saying a head teacher may not lodge at Kadoya?”

“Stories of the world, in your language.”