四 1

The school had a night-watch duty, which the staff took turns performing. However, the Badger and Red Shirt were exceptions. When I asked why these two were exempt from an obvious obligation, I was told it was because they held appointed-official status. Ridiculous. They draw large salaries, work few hours, and then escape night duty—where is the fairness in that? They cook up self-serving rules and then put on airs as if it were only natural. How they can be so brazen is beyond me. I harbor no small grievance over this, but according to Yama-Arashi, no matter how much one man complains, it will get nowhere. If it's just one man or two, so long as the cause is right, it ought to prevail. Yama-Arashi cited the English phrase 'might is right' by way of instruction, but as it made little sense to me, I asked him to explain, and he said it meant the rights of the strong. I've known about the rights of the strong since long ago; I hardly need a lecture from Yama-Arashi now. The rights of the strong and night duty are separate matters. Who would ever concede that the Badger or Red Shirt are the strong? Setting argument aside, this night duty finally came around to my turn. Being irritable by nature, unless I sleep comfortably in my own bedding, I never feel as though I've slept. Since childhood I've hardly ever stayed over at a friend's house. If I loathe it even at a friend's, I loathe school night duty all the more. Loathe it as I may, if it's bundled into those forty yen, there's no help for it. I'll grit my teeth and do it.

After both teachers and students have gone home, sitting alone in a daze feels utterly foolish. The night-watch room is a chamber at the west end of the dormitory behind the classrooms. I stepped in for a look, but it faces the western sun head-on, and it was so stifling I could hardly bear to stay. Being in the country, even with autumn come, the heat lingers stubbornly. I had the students' mess sent over and finished my supper, but its wretchedness was something to behold. That they could eat such stuff and still raise such hell is a marvel. And finishing supper by half past four in such haste must mark them as heroes indeed. I ate, but since it wasn't dark yet, I couldn't very well sleep. I felt a sudden wish to go to the hot springs. Whether leaving the grounds while on duty is good or bad I don't know, but to sit cooped up and suffer a confinement like heavy imprisonment is more than I can bear. When I first came to the school and asked where the watchman was, the janitor answered he'd just stepped out on an errand, which struck me as odd, but now that my turn has come, I understand. Leaving is the proper course. I told the janitor I'd be stepping out a moment; he asked if there was some business, and I answered, no business—I'm going to soak in the springs—and set off at a clip. A pity I'd left my red towel at the lodgings, but today I'd borrow one there.

Then, ambling in and out at a leisurely pace, I at last reached dusk, so I boarded a train and got off at the Furumachi station. It's four blocks from there to the school. Thinking it no distance at all, I set out walking, and there came the Badger from the opposite direction. The Badger was probably planning to take this very train to the hot springs. He came striding briskly, but when we passed, he saw my face and gave a slight nod. Then the Badger asked with a solemn air, 'Weren't you on duty tonight?' Weren't you on duty indeed. Two hours ago he said to me himself, 'Tonight is your first night watch, isn't it. Hard work.' and offered his thanks. Becoming a principal makes a man use such twisting words. I was annoyed, so I said, 'Yes, I'm on duty. Being on duty, I shall certainly go back and stay the night,' and flung it at him, then walked on composed. When I reached the four corners of Tategami-chō, this time I ran smack into Yama-Arashi. It's a narrow place, indeed; step out and you're sure to meet someone. 'Hey, aren't you on watch?' he asked, and when I answered 'Yep, on watch,' he said, 'A man on watch roaming about like this—isn't that irregular?' 'Not the least irregular; it'd be irregular not to roam,' I puffed up and showed him. 'Your slovenliness is something else—if you run into the principal or head teacher it's a nuisance,' said Yama-Arashi, uncharacteristically, so I told him, 'I just met the principal. Said in this heat a walk's no bad thing, the watch must be a trial, and praised my stroll,' and since it was a bother, I hurried straight back to school.

Then the sun set at once. For two hours after dark I called the janitor to the watch room and talked, but tiring of that too, I thought I'd get into bed if not sleep, so changed into nightclothes, rolled up the mosquito net, flipped off the red blanket, plopped my butt down hard, and lay flat on my back. Plopping my butt down hard when I sleep is a childhood habit. A law-school student who lived below me at my lodgings in Ogawamachi once lodged a complaint, saying it was a bad habit. Law students are weaklings but clever with their mouths, and he droned on at length about nonsense, so I told him: the thumping at bedtime isn't my butt's fault—it's the lodgings' shoddy construction. Take it up with the lodgings if you like, and shut him up. This watch room is on the ground floor, so no matter how hard I flop down, it's fine. Unless I flop with real force, I don't feel as though I've slept. Ah, bliss, I stretched my legs wide, and something grabbed onto both feet. It was gritty, not like a flea, so startled, I shook my feet two or three times inside the blanket. Then the gritty things I'd struck began suddenly to multiply—five or six places on my shins, two or three on my thighs, one squished squelchily under my butt, one leapt clear up to my navel—now I was truly alarmed. I sat up at once and flung the blanket back; from inside the bedding, fifty or sixty grasshoppers sprang out. While I didn't know what they were, it was a bit creepy, but once they were plainly grasshoppers, I was suddenly furious. A grasshopper, startling a man—see if I don't do something, I snatched the hard pillow and swung it two or three times, but the foe being too small, the force of my throws went to waste. Resigned, I sat again on the futon and, like beating a tatami with a rolled mat during spring cleaning, pounded every which way. The grasshoppers, alarmed further by the pillow's force, leapt up and stuck to or bumped my shoulder, head, the tip of my nose. Those on my face I couldn't hit with the pillow, so I grabbed them by hand and flung with all my might. Annoyingly, no matter how hard I threw, the only thing ahead was the mosquito net, so it just swayed softly with no resistance at all. The grasshoppers hung there, flung and clinging, neither dying nor anything. At last, in some thirty minutes, I destroyed the grasshoppers. I fetched a broom and swept out their corpses. The janitor came and said 'What is it?', so I told him, 'What is it, my eye—what country keeps grasshoppers in a bed? Fool.' He explained, 'I didn't know.' 'Think 'didn't know' settles it?' I flung the broom onto the veranda, and the janitor shouldered it timidly and went off.

I at once summoned three or so boarders as representatives; six came out. Six or ten, what do I care. In nightclothes with sleeves rolled, I opened the parley. 'Why'd you put grasshoppers in my bed?' 'Grasshoppers, what might they be?' said the first, cool as you please. At this school it's not just the principal—even the students use twisting words. 'Don't you know a grasshopper? I'll show you,' I said, but unfortunately I'd swept them all out and not one remained. I called the janitor again: 'Bring those grasshoppers from before.' He asked, 'I've already thrown them in the dust heap—shall I fetch them?' 'Yes, go at once,' and he ran; presently he returned with some ten carried on a sheet of half-paper, saying, 'Terribly sorry, but being night, only these turned up. Tomorrow I'll gather more.' Even the janitor's a fool. I showed one grasshopper to the students: 'This is a grasshopper, big and brazen. 'Don't know a grasshopper'—what nonsense.' Then the round-faced one at the far left cheekily cut in: 'That's a locust, sir.' 'Blockhead, locust or grasshopper, same thing. And first off, grabbing your teacher with 'zo na'—eat plain rice only with your miso skewers.' I cut him back, and he said, 'Zo na and plain rice are different, sir.' A man who'll use 'zo na' forever. 'Locust or grasshopper, why'd you put them in my bed? When did I ever ask you to put grasshoppers in?' 'Nobody put any, sir.' 'If nobody put them, how'd they get in the bed?' 'Locusts like warm places, so likely went in on their own, sir.' 'Don't be absurd. A grasshopper 'going in on its own'—who'd stand for being 'gone into' by a grasshopper?—Come, why'd you play this prank? Speak.' 'If we'd done it we'd say, but can't explain what we didn't do, sir.'

Petty curs. If you can't own up to what you yourselves did, better not do it at all. With no proof produced, they play dumb and put on a thick-skinned front. Even I played some pranks in middle school, but never once, when asked who did it, did I shrink back so cowardly. What's done is done, what's not is not—that's settled. A man like me, however many pranks, is clean. Rather than lie to escape punishment, I'd not prank from the start. Prank and punishment go together. Because there's punishment, a prank can be enjoyed with spirit. What country breeds the base spirit that says 'the prank's fine, but spare me the punishment'? The lot who borrow money but won't repay—these are surely the sort that graduate and do such work. Why ever enter middle school? Enter, lie, deceive, behind backs fuss and swagger in vicious pranks, then graduate with a big face and fancy themselves educated—it's a delusion. Unbearable rabble.

Since parleying with such rotten-minded curs turns my stomach, 'If you won't say, I needn't listen. To middle school you've come to

“Stories of the world, in your language.”