The housekeeper and the professor by Yōko Ogawa Read Free Book Online Page B

I? I checked it over and over, I'm sure it's
right."
    "Indeed it is!"
    "Good! Then let's go get the radio fixed."
    "Now just a minute," said the Professor, coughing quietly as if
to give himself time to think. "I wonder if you could explain to me
how you got the answer?"
    "That's easy! You just add them up."
    "That's a straightforward way to do it; perfectly reliable, and no
one can argue with that." Root nodded proudly. "But think for a
minute: what would you do if a teacher, say, a mean teacher, asked
you to add the numbers from 1 to 100?"
    "I'd add them up, of course."
    "Naturally you would. You're a good boy, and a hard worker.
So I'm sure you'd come up with the right answer for 1 to 100, too.
But what if that teacher was really cruel and made you find the
sum for 1 to 1,000? Or 1 to 10,000? You'd be adding, adding, and
adding forever while that teacher laughed at you. What would you
do then?" Root shook his head. "But you can't let that evil teacher
get to you," the Professor continued. "You've got to show him
you're the better man."
    "But how do you do that?"
    "You need to find a simpler way to get the answer that works
no matter how big the numbers get. If you can find it, then I'll get
the radio fixed."
    "That's not fair!" Root objected, kicking his chair leg. "That
wasn't part of the deal."
    "Root!" I interrupted. "Is that any way to act?" But the Professor
didn't seem to notice his outburst.
    "A problem isn't finished just because you've found the right answer.
There's another way to get to 55; wouldn't you like to find it?"
    "Not really ... ," said Root, sulking.
    "All right, here's what we'll do. The radio is old, and it may
take them a while to get it working again. So how about a contest
to see whether you can find another way to get the sum before the
radio is fixed?"
    "Okay," said Root. "But I don't see how I'm going to do it.
What other way is there besides just adding them up?"
    "Who'd have guessed you're such a quitter," the Professor
scolded. "Giving up before you've even tried."
    "Fine. I'll try. But I can't promise I'll figure it out before the radio's
done. I've got a lot of other stuff to do."
    "We'll see," said the Professor, and he rubbed Root's head as he
always did. "Oh!" he said suddenly. "I've got to make a note." He
took a sheet of paper, wrote out their agreement, then clipped it to
his lapel. There was something smooth and controlled in the way
he held the pen and wrote the note, so different from his usual
clumsy manner.
    "But you have to promise to finish your homework before the
game comes on; and to turn it off during dinner; and not to disturb
the Professor while he's working." Root nodded grumpily as
I listed each condition.
    "I know," he said, "but it'll be worth it. The Tigers are good
this year, not like last year and the year before when they were in
last place. They even won their first game against the Giants."
    "Is that right? Hanshin's having a good year?" the Professor
said. "What's Enatsu's ERA?" The Professor looked back and forth
between us. "How many strikeouts does he have?" Root waited
for a moment before answering.
    "They traded Enatsu," he said at last. "That was before I was
born, and he's retired now." A jolt shot through the Professor and
then he was still.
    I had never seen him so distressed. He had always calmly accepted
the way his memory failed him, but this time was different.
This time he couldn't ignore the facts. Seeing him this way, I even
forgot to worry about Root, who had received a shock of his own
at causing the Professor such pain.
    "But even after they traded him to the Carp, he was the best in
the league." I hoped this would reassure him, but this new information
distressed him even more.
    "The Carp? What do you mean? How could Enatsu wear anything
but the Hanshin pinstripes?"
    He sat down and rested his elbows on the desk, running his
hands through his freshly cut hair. Tiny clippings fell on his notebook.
This time it was Root who rubbed the