Half World by Hiromi Goto Read Free Book Online Page A

a stop. The only sound in the tunnel was her tearing gasps for air, her shoulders heaving up and down with the effort.
    All the tiny hairs along her spine stood up.
    She looked back once more.
    The entire tunnel was empty.
    There was no cop. There was no rat. The circle of red and blue lights had stopped. The air was still.
    It was as if she were the last person left on earth.
    A car will pass, Melanie told herself, looking toward the opposite opening. A truck, something—the city never completely slept. There were always people. . . .
    The utter quiet was unbearable.
    Melanie’s legs gave out and she sank to her haunches. Her chin dropping to her chest, she covered her head with her arms.
    Make it go away, she thought. Make it go away.

FIVE
    A NOISE. IT was a familiar sound, but she didn’t know where she’d heard it before.
    Rolling. Like a bowling ball, but not so heavy. It stopped. Then resumed for several seconds before stopping once more.
    The sound was coming from the opposite opening of the tunnel. The intermittent rolling was drawing nearer.
    Melanie wearily raised her head.
    At first she could not make sense of what she saw.
    She blinked and blinked, rubbing a dirty, weary palm across her eyelids before it sank in.
    The silhouette of a rotund animal pattered toward her, its rounded hump of body rocking a little from side to side. A raccoon. It was rolling something, zigzagging now and then, as the object sometimes seemed to go off to the side and stop. The animal chattered angrily when this happened, but it continued moving forward with great determination.
    It took several minutes for the raccoon to reach Melanie’s feet. The creature gave the round black ball a final annoyed push, and the object settled upon its flat bottom. There was a sound of sloshing liquid, then it stilled. The raccoon chittered with great feeling. It rose upon its hind legs and clasped Melanie’s jeans with a small, clawed paw, very much like a hand. The animal’s black eyes glittered inside its dark mask.
    â€œIs—” Melanie’s voice was a hoarse croak. She swallowed and tried again. “Is this for me?”
    The raccoon vigorously nodded its head. It dropped to all fours and began a rocking gallop back toward the entrance from where it had come.
    â€œWait!” Melanie cried out, leaping to her feet. The echo of the word lingered inside the cavern of the tunnel.
    The raccoon loped away without a backward glance.
    Melanie stared at the black ball. It was smaller than a bowling ball, and it looked like it was made out of cheap plastic.
    She glanced up and down the tunnel. It was still completely empty and silent. She dropped back into a crouch and picked up the strange gift, turning the orb around in her hands.
    It was a large Magic 8 Ball toy. Black, the shiny luster was rather pebbled from its long passage. Who knew where the raccoon had first found it? Melanie had seen one before, in grade school. If you shook the ball while you asked a question, like “Will I pass the social studies chapter test?” then held the ball still, a message printed on an upside-down triangle would bob to the window, where it could be read. It wasn’t a real magic ball. There were twenty answers and they were set. General answers, like YES, DEFINITELY, ASK AGAIN LATER, and MY SOURCES SAY NO. A classmate had brought one to school. After a few hours of asking ridiculous questions like “Does Brandon love Kasumi?” everyone got bored with the same old answers. Melanie had picked it up last. She wrote down all of the twenty answers. Ten were of the “yes” variety, five were of the uncertain type, and five were negative. The ball, Melanie had decided, had very little potential.
    â€œDon’t be so sure,” a small hoarse voice murmured.
    Melanie gasped, dropping the Magic 8 Ball. It rolled until it came to rest beside a large green rat.
    Melanie shuffled backward until she was pressed