Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami Read Free Book Online

the Gatekeeper to explain the way there in some detail, I would never have recognized it as a library.
    "Soon as you get settled, go to the Library," the Gatekeeper tells me my first day in town.
    "There is a girl who minds the place by herself. Tell her the Town told you to come read old dreams. She will show you the rest."
    "Old dreams?" I say. "What do you mean by 'old dreams'?"
    The Gatekeeper pauses from whittling a round peg, sets down his penknife, and sweeps the wood shavings from the table. "Old dreams are… old dreams. Go to the Library. You will find enough of them to make your eyes roll. Take out as many as you like and read them good and long."
    The Gatekeeper inspects the pointed end of his finished peg, finds it to his approval, and puts it on the shelf behind him. There, perhaps twenty of the same round pegs are lined.
    "Ask whatever questions you want, but remember, I may not answer," declares the Gatekeeper, folding his arms behind his head. "'There are things I cannot say. But from now on you must go to the Library every day and read dreams. That will be your job. Go there at six in the evening. Stay there until ten or eleven at night. The girl will fix you supper. Other times, you are free to do as you like. Understand?"
    "Understood," I tell him. "How long am I to continue at that job?"
    "How long? I cannot say," answers the Gatekeeper. "Until the right time comes." Then he selects another scrap of wood from a pile of kindling and starts whittling again.
    "This is a poor town. No room for idle people wandering around. Everybody has a place, everybody has a job. Yours is in the library reading dreams. You did not come here to live happily ever after, did you?"
    "Work is no hardship. Better than having nothing to do," I say.
    "There you are," says the Gatekeeper, nodding squarely as he eyes the tip of his knife.
    "So the sooner you get yourself to work, the better. From now on you are the Dreamreader. You no longer have a name. Just like I am the Gatekeeper. Understand?"
    "Understood," I say.
    "Just like there is only one Gatekeeper in this Town, there is only one Dreamreader. Only one person can qualify as Dreamreader. I will do that for you now."
    The Gatekeeper takes a small white tray from his cupboard, places it on the table, and pours oil into it. He strikes a match and sets the oil on fire. Next he reaches for a dull, rounded blade from his knife rack and heats the tip for ten minutes. He blows out the flame and lets the knife cool.
    "With this, I will give you a sign," says the Gatekeeper. "It will not hurt. No need to be afraid."
    He spreads wide my right eye with his fingers and pushes the knife into my eyeball. Yet as the Gatekeeper said, it does not hurt, nor am I afraid. The knife sinks into my eyeball soft and silent, as if dipping into jelly.
    He does the same with my left eye.
    "When you are no longer a Dreamreader, the scars will vanish," says the Gatekeeper, putting away the tray and knife. "These scars are the sign of the Dreamreader. But as long as you bear this sign, you must beware of light. Hear me now, your eyes cannot see the light of day. If your eyes look at the light of the sun, you will regret it. So you must only go out at night or on gray days. When it is clear, darken your room and stay safe indoors."
    The Gatekeeper then presents me with a pair of black glasses. I am to wear these at all times except when I sleep.
    So it was I lost the light of day.
    It is in the evening a few days later that I go my way to the Library. The heavy wooden door makes a scraping noise as I push it open. I find a long straight hallway before me.
    The air is dusty and stale, an atmosphere the years have forsaken. The floorboards are worn where once tread upon, the plaster walls yellowed to the color of the light bulbs.
    There are doors on either side of the hallway, each doorknob with a layer of white dust.
    The only unlocked door is at the end, a delicate frosted glass panel behind which shines