Norwegian Wood Vol 2 Read online

  NORWEGIAN

  WOOD

  Haruki Murakami

  Translated by

  Alfred Birnbaum

  KODANSHA

  KODANSHA INTERNATIONAL

  C H A P T E R 6 (continued)

  The scene at dinner was pretty much the same as

  the evening before-same faces and talk and atmosphere. Only the menu had changed. The labcoated man who had talked about stomach secretions under weightless conditions joined our

  table and told us about brain size in correlation to

  its abilities. He told us about the brain capacities of

  Napoleon and Bismarck while we ate something

  called soyburger steak. He pushed his plate aside

  and, pulling out a notepad, began to draw a diagram

  of the brain in ballpoint. "No, that's not quite

  right," he'd say, then start over. When he finally

  finished the drawing to his satisfaction, he returned

  the notepad to a pocket of his lab coat and slipped

  the pen into his breast pocket. That made three

  ballpoint pens, a pencil, and a ruler in his breast

  pocket. "Winter's great here, I tell you. You simply

  must come next winter," he said as he left, same as

  yesterday.

  "ls he a doctor or a patient?" was all I could think

  to ask Reiko.

  "Which do you think?"

  "I have absolutely no idea. Whichever, he hardly

  seems too together. "

  "He's a doctor. Dr. Miyata," said Naoko.

  "He's got to be the biggest nut around here. I'd

  wager on it," said Reiko.

  "Him and Mr. Omura, the gatekeeper, who's

  pretty far out, too," said Naoko.

  "Yeah, he's crazy all right," said Reiko, nodding

  as she jabbed a fork into her broccoli. "The guy

  shouts who knows what while he does those impossible exercises every morning. Then, before

  Naoko's time, there was this girl named Kinoshita

  in accounting who tried to commit suicide, not to

  mention Nurse T okushima who became a real bad

  alcoholic and had to quit last year."

  "Sounds like the staff and the patients ought to

  change places," I said with some concern.

  "You said it," said Reiko, waving her fork. "I see

  you're getting to know the ropes around here."

  "So it would seem," I agreed.

  "The together thing about us," said Reiko, "is

  that we know we're not together. "

  We returned to the room, and Naoko and I

  played cards while Reiko picked up the guitar again

  and practiced Bach.

  "What time will you be leaving tomorrow?"

  Reiko asked me when she stayed her hand long

  enough to light a cigarette.

  "I should get off after breakfast. There's a bus a

  little after nine, which would mean I wouldn't have

  to skip out on my job."

  "Too bad. Sure wish you could take more time

  off. "

  "If I did that, I'd probably just stay on here," I

  said with a laugh.

  "Quite so," agreed Reiko, theri reminded Naoko,

  "Oh, I mustn't forget to pick up those grapes from

  Oka's place. It nearly slipped my mind."

  "Shall we go together?" asked Naoko.

  "Say, Watanabe, can I borrow your services?"

  "Sure thing."

  "Well, then, looks like we're off on another night

  stroll, the two of us," said Reiko, taking my hand.

  "There's only a bit more from where we left off last

  night, so let's take it through to the end tonight."

  "Be my guest, whatever you like," giggled Naoko.

  The wind was a little brisk, so Reiko pulled on a

  light blue cardigan and thrust both hands into her

  pants pockets. While walking she looked up at the

  sky, sniffing the air like a dog. Then she came out

  9

  with the verdict: "Smells like rain." I gave a few

  sniffs, too, but didn't smell anything. A lot of

  clouds in the sky, and the moon half,hidden

  behind them.

  "Live here long enough and you can smell the

  weather," said Reiko.

  As we entered the woods around the staff hous,

  ing, Reiko asked me to wait a moment while she

  went over to a cottage and pushed the doorbell.

  Out came the lady of the house, who chatted a bit

  with Reiko, then let out a chuckle before stepping

  inside and coming back with a large plastic bag.

  Reiko thanked her, said her good, nights, and

  headed back my way.

  "See? Grapes!" said Reiko, showing me the con,

  tents of the bag. Ii was filled with bunches of them.

  "Like grapes?"

  "Sure."

  She grabbed the top bunch and handed it to me.

  "They're washed, so they're okay to eat. "

  I walked along eating the grapes and spitting out

  the seeds and skins. Plump and juicy they were.

  Reiko ate a bunch herself.

  "I teach piano to the boy in that family from time

  to time. Give me all sorts of different things by way

  of thanks. Last time it was wine. Sometimes I get

  them to do a little shopping for me in town."

  1 0

  "I believe I'm about ready to listen to the rest of

  yesterday's story," I said.

  "Fair enough," said Reiko. "But if we get back

  late two nights in a row, Naoko might start wondering if something is going on between us."

  "I'd like to hear it anyway."

  "Okay, but let's talk somewhere there's a roof.

  It's a little chilly today."

  She turned left this side of the tennis courts,

  descended some narrow steps, and came to a place

  where several small sheds stood in a line like row

  houses. Opening the door of the first shed, she

  flicked on the light. "Come on in. Nothing much to

  see, though. "

  Inside the shed were a bank of cross-country skis

  and poles and boots neatly arranged against the

  wall, with snow shovels and other snow-clearing

  equipment and chemicals in a pile on the floor.

  "I used to come here all the time to practice

  guitar. Or when I wanted to be alone. Nice and

  cozy, don't you think?"

  Reiko took a seat on a sack of chemicals and told

  me to sit down, too. Which I did.

  "Mind if I smoke? It'll smoke the place up a bit. "

  "Go right ahead."

  "Just can't seem to quit these things," said Reiko

  with a frown. Then her whole face lit up as she took

  1 1

  a puff. Smokers who get such pleasure from a

  cigarette are few and far between. I ate the grapes

  one at a time, carefully discarding the skins and

  seeds in a tin box that was being used for a garbage

  can.

  "So how far did we get yesterday?" asked Reiko.

  "Up to the part where you were scaling the cliff

  that stormy night to get a swallow's nest," I said.

  "You manage to keep a straight face through it

  all, I see," said Reiko, disgruntled. "We'd gotten up

/>   to where I'd begun giving the girl piano lessons

  Saturday mornings, I believe."

  "Correct. "

  "If there are two types of people in this world,

  those who can teach and those who can't, then

  most likely I belong to the former," Reiko began.

  "Wouldn't have thought so when I was young. Or

  maybe I just didn't want to think so. Only when I

  got old enough to be able to size myself up did I

  come to realize. That I'm good at teaching others. I

  really am. "

  "I'll say," I agreed.

  "I'm more patient with others than with myself,

  I'm better at bringing out their good side than

  mine. I'm just that type. I'm like the striking side of

  a matchbox, in other words. But that's okay, as far

  as that goes I have nothing against it. I'd rather be a

  first-rate matchbox than a second-rate matchstick.

  1 2

  That really came home to me, I'd say., from the time

  I took this girl on as a pupil. Up until then I'd

  taught any number of people on a parMime basis,

  but I never really thought much about it. It was only when I started teaching her that it came to me.

  Like, was I really this gifted at teaching people? The

  lessons went that well.

  "As I was saying yesterday, the girl wasn't much

  when it came to technique, nor did she especially

  want to become a musician per se, which meant I

  could take things pretty easy. Plus she was going to

  one of those 'university track' girls' schools where

  decent grades automatically pushed you into college, so that even her mother would tell her, 'Take it easy. Maybe take up music.' And for that reason I

  didn't push the girl very hard. From the moment I

  set eyes on her, I could tell she was one of those

  kids who resent being told what to do. Tell you

  whatever pretty words she thinks you want to hear,

  but absolutely never do anything but what she

  herself had in mind. So I figured, first let her play

  however she wants. One hundred percent her way.

  Then I'd show her how the same piece could be

  played in various other ways. Then we'd debate

  which was the best. Then I'd have her play the

  piece again. In this way I got her to improve her

  playing a few steps up from what it had been. She'd

  tune in on the good parts."

  13

  Reiko took a breath and looked at the burning

  end of her cigarette. I said nothing but just went on

  eating grapes.

  "I tend to have fairly good musical intuition, but

  this girl was even better than I in that department.

  It was almost a shame. If only she'd had a good

  teacher and gotten serious training when she was

  small, she might actually have amounted to

  something. But no. The girl wasn't the kind to put

  up with serious training. There're people in the

  world like that. Blessed with loads of wonderful

  talent, but can't make the effort to put it in order,

  so that in the end they just dissipate their talent in

  dribs and drabs. I've seen it happen to a number of

  people. At first they wow you. The kind who dash

  off a monster of a difficult piece sighHeading it the

  first time through. Bowls you over just to watch.

  Me, I can hardly keep up. But then that's it, that's

  as far as they go. And why don't they go further?

  Because they don't put in the effort. They don't

  have the training drilled into them to put in the effort. They're spoiled. They had almost too much talent, too much praise heaped on them from when

  they were small-being so good without even practicing-that they take it into their heads that making any effort is for the birds. I mean they can do in half the time what would take another kid three ·

  weeks. Then go on to the next piece. They never

  14

  have to face up to being disciplined, so they miss

  out on one of the essentials in building character.

  That's the real tragedy. I have a bit of that in me

  myself, but luckily my teacher was good and strict

  with me, so I only turned out like this.

  "I tell you, though, those lessons were fun. Like

  driving on a highway in a high-performance sports

  car, the slightest touch of a finger and, bleep-bleep,

  out comes the instantaneous reaction. Maybe just a

  little too instantaneous at times. The trick for

  teaching a kid like that is to go easy on the praise.

  After being praised from so early on, no matter

  how much you praise them, to them it's only,

  'What, again?' A judicious smattering of praise now

  and again, and that's plenty. And one more thing,

  it's good practice not to press matters. Let them

  chose for themselves. Don't keep pushing them

  ahead. Stand by silently and let them ponder

  things. That's all. That much done, the rest takes

  care of itself. "

  Reiko dropped her cigarette butt on the floor and

  trod it out. Then she took a deep breath to put a lid

  on her feelings.

  "After the lessons, we'd have tea and talk.

  Sometimes I'd imitate some jazz piano for her.

  Here's Pat Powell and here's Thelonius Monk. But

  mostly it would be she who talked. A great talker,

  too, that kid. Reel you in just like that. As I told

  15

  you yesterday, most of it I imagine she simply made

  up, but it was interesting even so. She was truly

  sharp with her observations, chose just the right ex,

  pressions, had biting wit and humor, enough to

  stimulate people's feelings. The girl was a needle.

  She really had the knack. And she herself knew it,

  so she took every opportunity to use her skills to op,

  timum effect. To anger people, to make them sad,

  to make them sympathize, to bring them down or

  cheer them up-she could manipulate emotions

  with great exactness. And all for the sole purpose of

  testing her own limits, she'd manipulate feelings

  meaninglessly. Of course, it only occurred to me

  much later that that's what she'd been up to. At

  the time I didn't have any idea."

  Reiko shook her head as she downed a few more

  grapes.

  "Sick," said Reiko. "A real sickness, a disease.

  And like a rotten apple, that sort of disease ruins

  everything around it. There was nothing anyone

  could do about her disease. She'll stay sick like that

  until the day she dies. So, in fact, depending on how

  you look at it, the child was really a pathetic

  creature. Even I would have thought so had I not

  fallen prey to her myself. I'm one of her victims. "

  Again, a few more grapes. She seemed t o b e try,

  ing to figure out how to go on with her tale.

  "So, for about six months, everything went fine.

  16

  On occasion something might strike me as odd. I'd

  catch myself going, 'Huh?' Or remarks would come

  out in the course of our conversation that would

  floor me. She'd take these vicious, irrational, and

  pointless swipes at someone or other. She'd home

  in with such amazing precision I co
uld only wonder

  what the kid was really up to in her thinking. But

  people all have their faults, don't they? And who

  was I, a mere piano teacher, to say anything about

  'character' or 'kindness,' right? All she had to do

  for me was practice well and everything'd be okay

  by me. And, anyway, the truth is I was kind of

  taken with the kid.

  "Only I made a point of never talking too much

  about my own personal affairs with her. Instinctively, I just somehow felt it'd be better if I didn't. So that whenever she'd ask this or that about me-she

  was always wanting to know something-I'd only

  tell her things that didn't matter anyway. How I

  was brought up, what schools I went to, things like

  that. And when the girl would say she wanted to

  know more about me, I'd say, to what end? Mine is

  a boring life: I have a ·regular guy for a husband, a

  child, tons of housework. But she really thought

  the world of me, she said, and look me in the face,

  melting. When she looked at me like that, I'd shudder. Not a bad feeling by any means. Even so, I wouldn't tell her any more than I had to.

  1 7

  "May, I guess it was, when right in the middle of

  a lesson she said she wasn't feeling well. And look,

  ing at her, she certainly did seem pale and was start,

  ing to sweat. So I asked her, did she want to go

  home? To which she said that if she could lie down

  for a little while, she'd be all right. Fine, I told her,

  and I showed her to my bed, practically having to

  carry her there. She was so sorry and apologetic,

  which made me even more concerned. How about

  a glass of water or something, I asked. But no, she

  just wanted me to stay by her side, and of course I

  did.

  "After a while, the girl spoke up as if in pain:

  could I rub her back a bit? She was really sweating

  by this point, so I rubbed her back as best I could.

  Whereupon the girl was saying she hated to be such

  a bother, but would I mind undoing her bra for

  her? It was so tight. Well, what could I do? I unbut,

  toned her fitted blouse, then unhooked the

  backstrap. She had big boobs for a thirteen,year,

  old, at least twice the size of mine. Even her bra,

  too-it wasn't your junior, it was an adult bra. And

  a nice one at that. But what difference did that

  make? I went on rubbing her back, like a real idiot.

  She said she was truly sorry, and she did sound tru,