Coin Locker Babies by Ryu Murakami Read Free Book Online Page B

and everything became very still. Then this blind spot gradually hardened and seemed to grow heavy, becoming a dull metallic wheel; the spinning started… and the buzzing again. As its speed increased, the wheel expanded, until a huge, vague ring hung in the air. Kiku still had no idea what it was, but this time he wasn’t afraid. This time he learned to cope: at the first sign of pain in his eyes, he would set out for a run on the beach, and as he picked up speed the blind spot between his eyes would recede; as the strength flowed into his body, the metal ring would fade and vanish.
    One day, after running on the beach and doing practice jumps with the bamboo pole, Kiku headed for the deserted town. A bright green snake slithered from the shattered entrance to the colliery; everything seemed alive, fluttering in the wind, except Kiku’s own heavy shadow. It had been a long time since he had taken a walk alone, and he used the time to think.
    Sunshine like this feels like midsummer to me, no matter what time of year it is; always has, ever since I was born. They say I went on crying in that locker till they found me… all sweaty; I don’t remember, of course, but it must’ve been hot… Nine others, panting away, but they all died. Hashi and I made it because it was summer… heat and sweat brought us back to life! Must have been summer! That’s why other seasons hardly exist for us… Just heat, light, and shadows…
    I wonder if they’ve still got that paper bag at the orphanage?Books on lace-making she left in the locker with me. Police checked the fingerprints but couldn’t find a match; at least she didn’t have a record. Must’ve liked making lace… Maybe that’s why I always feel funny when I see lace… All Hashi’s got is those flowers—bougainvilleas his mother left. Keeps those dried petals like they were some kind of charm.
    The wind howled through the streets past peeling signs for empty shops: Shirayama Meats, Harbor Lights Dance Hall, Kamijima Bicycles, Bar Niagara, Restaurant Hanabusa.
    As Kiku turned the corner, Gazelle, busy repairing his bike, looked up to greet him.
    “Alone today?” he asked. Kiku nodded. Gazelle had bleached his hair into a brilliant blond helmet, but his face was black with grease and sweat. “The carburetor’s busted,” he explained.
    “Have you got a bit of bread I could have?” said Kiku.
    “Hungry?”
    “I don’t need much.”
    “I’ve got some cold noodles you’re welcome to,” he offered.
    “I’d just as soon have the bread.”
    “This for you?”
    “No…” said Kiku.
    “For the dogs?” Kiku nodded. Gazelle was back in a minute carrying a small piece of French bread. “They like this stuff best,” he said, handing it over. “But if you’re thinking of doing a little dog-hunting, today’s not the day. It’s the Festival of the Dead this week, and you don’t want to go messing with souls right now, not even dog souls.”
    Breaking the bread in half, Kiku put a piece in each pocket, mumbled, “Thanks, Gazelle,” and turned to go.
    “Kiku, hold on a second. Didn’t you tell me one time that you were thrown out as a baby?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “So do you hate your mother for it?” he continued.
    “You mean the woman who left me in the locker?”
    “Right. Do you hate her?”
    “Hmm. I guess so… Yeah, I hate her.”
    “Ever think you’d like to kill her?” asked Gazelle suddenly.
    “I don’t even know who she is. How could I kill her?”
    “But what if you killed everybody? Then you’d be sure to get her too, wouldn’t you?”
    “Wouldn’t that be a bit tough on all the people who had nothing to do with it?” Kiku asked.
    “You’ve got rights, you know,” said Gazelle. “Seems to me, after what you’ve been through you’d have the right to kill everybody, even if it was only to get back at your mother. Anyway, if you ever feel like it—I mean offing the whole world to get even with your mom, I’ve got a secret