After dark - By Haruki Murakami Page 0,30
he plays squash, and sometimes in winter they throw snowballs. Meanwhile, the father who disowned Ryan O’Neal comes down with diabetes, cirrhosis of the liver, and Ménière’s disease and dies a lonely, miserable death.”
“I don’t get it. What’s so good about a story like that?”
Takahashi cocks his head. “Hmm, what did I like about it? I can’t remember. I had stuff to do, so I didn’t watch the last part very closely…Hey, how about a walk? A little change of atmosphere? There’s a tiny park down the street where the cats like to gather. We can feed them your leftover tuna-mercury sandwiches. I’ve got a fish cake, too. You like cats?”
Mari nods, puts her book in her bag, and stands up.
Takahashi and Mari walk down the street. They are not talking now. Takahashi is whistling. A black Honda motorcycle passes close to them, dropping its speed. It is the bike driven by the Chinese man who picked up the woman at Alphaville—the man with the ponytail. His full- face helmet is off now, and he scans his surroundings with great care. Between him and them, there is no point of contact. The deep rumble of the engine draws close to them and passes by.
Mari asks Takahashi, “How did you and Kaoru get to know each other?”
“I’ve been doing odd jobs at that hotel for the past six months or so. Alphaville. Dirty work—washing floors and stuff. Some computer stuff, too—installing software, fixing glitches. I even put in their security camera. Only women work there, so they’re happy to get a man’s help once in a while.”
“How did you happen to start working there specifically?”
Takahashi has a moment of confusion. “Specifically?”
“I mean, something must have led you to start working there,” Mari says. “I think Kaoru was being purposely vague about it…”
“That’s kind of a tough one…”
Mari keeps silent.
“Oh, well,” Takahashi says, as if resigning himself to the inevitable. “The truth is, I once took a girl there. As a customer, I mean. Afterwards, when it was time to go, I realized I didn’t have enough money. The girl didn’t, either. We had been drinking and really hadn’t thought much about that part. All I could do was leave my student ID with them.”
Mari offers no comment.
“The whole thing’s kind of embarrassing,” Takahashi says. “So I went the next day to pay the rest. Kaoru invited me to stay for a cup of tea, and we talked about this and that, at the end of which she told me to start part-time work there the next day. She practically forced me into it. The pay’s not much good, but they feed me once in a while. And my band’s practice space was something Kaoru found for us. She looks like a tough guy, but she’s actually a very caring person. I still stop in for a visit now and then. And they still call me if a computer goes out of whack or something.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“The one who went to the hotel with me?”
Mari nods.
“That was it for us,” Takahashi says. “I haven’t seen her since then. I’m sure she was disgusted with me. I really blew it. But anyhow, it’s no big deal. I wasn’t that crazy about her. We would have broken up sooner or later.”
“Do you do that a lot—go to hotels with girls you’re not particularly crazy about?”
“Hell no. I couldn’t afford it, for one thing. That was the first time I ever went to a love hotel.”
The two continue walking.
As if offering an excuse, Takahashi says, “And besides, it wasn’t my idea. She was the one who suggested we go to a place like that. Really.”
Mari says nothing.
“Well, anyhow, that would be another long story if I got started,” says Takahashi. “All kinds of stuff led up to what happened…”
“You seem to have a lot of long stories…”
“Maybe I do,” he says. “I wonder why that is.”
Mari says, “Before, you told me you don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Right. I’m an only child.”
“If you went to the same high school as Eri, your family must be here in Tokyo. Why aren’t you living with them? It’d be a lot cheaper that way.”
“That would be another long story,” he says.
“You don’t have a short version?”
“I do. A really short version. Wanna hear it?”
“Uh-huh,” Mari says.
“My mother’s not my biological mother.”
“So you don’t get along with her?”
“No, it’s not that we don’t get along. I’m just not the kind of guy who likes to stand up