Ground Zero, Naga Saki stories

“Are you waiting for someone?” a man’s voice said. He wasn’t one of the staff, so why was he giving me that unfriendly look? I felt like giving him a talking-to. I should have told him: It’s not your hotel. But it would only cause trouble if I made a fuss, so I decided to let it go. You know how it is. You’re just sitting minding your own business when one of these people appears and starts asking nosy questions. Maybe it’s just one of God’s little tests. You can’t really complain. But it does get annoying sometimes.

“I’m waiting for Kyu-chan,” I said.

“That’s right. He arrived a few minutes ago in a long black car. Surrounded by reporters—flash, flash, flash. Then he went downstairs.”

“Do you mean the politician, Mr. Kutani?”

“That’s right.”

What was he was getting so worked up about, anyway? Why shouldn’t I wait for someone here? That’s what a hotel lobby’s there for. I even had a necktie on, like everyone else, though my mother made a face when she saw the one I’d chosen. “Why on earth did you have to buy such an awful tie?” she said. But the salesgirl with the pussycat eyes had smiled and said it suited me.

“Excuse me for asking, but do you happen to have an appointment?”

“He’s an acquaintance of yours?”

“We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Kyu-chan is a high flier, but one of the good guys. He went to La Salle High School in Kagoshima and then Tokyo University. He’s supersmart—the exact opposite of me. My mother says if you put us together and divided us into two equal parts, you’d have just enough to make two normal people.

I took out my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket and showed it to this pest of a man.

“Is something the matter with it?”

“It has GPS. So my mother will know where I am if I go wandering off. She’s in the hospital.”

He twisted his head to one side with a little scowl as if he’d just eaten something sour. I didn’t seem to be getting through. What a dummy he was. This is why I find it hard to get on with people who aren’t Christians. At church they’re always telling us not to put people down. This guy obviously hadn’t heard the news.

“Does that have some connection with Mr. Kutani?” he asked.

“Obviously. I want to give him my number.”

I could feel myself starting to get upset.

When I get worked up, my blood starts to feel as heavy as molasses, and my body goes stiff. I don’t want to talk, don’t even want to breathe. My jerky heartbeat wants to stop altogether. I get rigid, like I’ve turned to stone. People start calling out to me, worried about what’s happening. Everything feels far away, like I’ve been catapulted into space. It’s a very lonely feeling.

“I believe this gentleman is waiting for me,” a new voice said suddenly.

It was a woman with a big black camera over her shoulder. Who was she? I didn’t recognize her face. She had glasses and long, wavy hair that made her look supersmart and sexy. There was a faraway look in her eyes.

“Oh, come on. Surely you remember me,” she said.

She showed me the square card that hung from her neck. I usually carry my medical card and my bus pass around my neck when I go to work, but they were in my jacket pocket today since I was wearing a tie.

“Are you with the press, madam? Does this person have some business with you?”

“Well, actually I came here to interview Mr. Kutani. But I thought I’d include this gentleman too, since he’s an old acquaintance.”

“You had an arrangement to meet here?”

“That’s right.”

“I see. In that case…”

The man slunk off, suspicion still written all over his face. I was glad to see the back of him. I felt my whole body loosen up.

“Do you mind?” the woman said, sitting down next to me. Her white coat fell open, and a lovely scent drifted toward me. I may not have much in the brains department, but my sense of smell is as sharp as a dog’s. I can sniff out a woman from a hundred paces away.

She smelled beautiful. What if… just if… she made me an offer, here and now? What would I do? If she took all her clothes off and got into the shower, and just… you know… let me have sex with her?

Here we were, after all, in a hotel lobby. Maybe she was going to seduce me and take me up to one of the rooms.

“What’s wrong? You’ve gone all red.”

“I know what it is. You’re angry about that man just now. It wasn’t nice of him to treat you like that.”

“The thing is I’m a little bit… shy. I get flustered when I meet a pretty girl. And you’re very pretty.”

She put her head back and laughed. I suppose there really is something funny about me, as my mother is always saying. The expression on my face, the look in my eyes, the way I move—I’m not like other people. There’s something a bit weird about me, I suppose.

“I understand you and Mr. Kutani were childhood friends. I’m sorry; I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying just now. I hope you don’t mind.”

Maybe she was one of Kyu-chan’s fans. Kyu-chan was always popular with the girls. On Valentine’s Day, February 14, 1973, he got chocolates from seven different girls. I helped him eat them all up.

“We used to be neighbors. We were in the same year all through elementary school and junior high. I was in the Sunshine Group, though. Kyu-chan was class president.”

“By the way, my name’s Shirotani. I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your…”

“I’m Adam. Kyu-chan is Thomas.”

“So you’re both Catholics? But that must be the name you got when you were baptized. What’s your usual one?”

Today I felt like being Adam for some reason. I can be quite stubborn once I make up my mind about something.

“I’m sorry. Adam it is. I take it you’re waiting for Mr. Kutani? Have you been in touch with him?”

I shook my head. “I don’t have an appointment. But I signaled to him with my eyes just now when he went past.”

“With your eyes? To say that you were waiting for him here?”

“Do you think he’ll understand what you meant?”

“Oh, I think so.”

“You know, I’m not so sure. I mean, apparently there’s a cocktail party first… and then he’s going to be busy meeting his supporters. Are you sure he’ll have the time?”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“OK… Look, why don’t you let me give a message to his secretary just to make sure? What should I say, that Adam is waiting outside?”

“And my phone number too, please.”

The woman took a ballpoint pen in her pretty fingers and wrote my cell phone number in her notebook.

“The latest model, I see,” she said.

“It has GPS and everything. That way, my mother will know where I am if I get lost. So I can’t get into any mischief, she says. Have you got it too?”

“Actually, no. I don’t, but…”

“In that case, no one will be able to help you if you get lost….”

“You’re so right! I’m always getting lost—and like you say, nobody ever comes to help.”

She took off her glasses and looked at me sadly with her faraway eyes. Maybe this smart lady felt like me sometimes. Turning to stone. Getting catapulted into space alone.

“You should pray. Just pray, and you’ll be saved. That’s what the priest always says.”

Why was she tearing up? It’s not easy for Adam when Eve starts crying. Maybe she was just sad because she couldn’t afford a phone with GPS. I had to beg my mother for five years before she agreed to get me one. And now Mother was dying. That’s why I was here at the hotel. She wanted Kyu-chan to take care of me after she was gone.

“Tell me. What’s Mr. Kutani like as a person?”

“He’s very smart. And a very good man. If you put us together and divided us in two, you’d have just enough to make two normal people. He’s a man of faith. No saint, but good.”

“He used to say he became a politician to do God’s will. To be a good Thomas—whatever that means.”

“Maybe he meant he wanted to do the kind of work that’d be worthy of the name he’d been given.”

“Is it true what they say—that Kyu-chan is going to be arrested?”

“So you know about that?”

“They say he hired his girlfriend as his secretary. It’s all over the papers and TV. It was on the news, that he’d done something wrong. They say all politicians are corrupt. Is Kyu-chan corrupt, too? I don’t really understand.”

“I think what he did was more or less standard practice back then, but it still doesn’t look good… Especially not if there was that kind of relationship…”

“Was she really his mistress?”

“Which means loving somebody who’s not your wife?”

“It’s not a very nice way to behave, is it? There’s no excusing it really.” She looked quite upset, biting her lip, as if she were the one married to Kyu-chan.

“No excusing what… the mistress?”

“The man. Really, men sometimes…”

“I wish it was me. I’m jealous.”

She wiped her eyes with a finger and smiled.

“Something must have happened between them,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Things happen when you’re grown-up.”

I had loved Kumi so much I couldn’t help myself. She was cuter than a porpoise and always used to smile and say hello. When she pushed down on the pedals of her bike, a sweet smell like osmanthus flowers came from the crotch of her skirt. The smell was so nice that I started chasing after her as hard as I could, running behind her bike all the way down the street shouting, “I love you, Kumi-chan! Marry me!”

It was the morning of July 12, 1978. Kumi got scared and ran into a convenience store. A man who worked there—he wore a pointed hat—grabbed hold of me and took me to the police. My mother cried and cried that day. “You’re a grown-up now,” she said. “You can’t go running after people just because you like them.” And she went on crying. I don’t understand all the fuss about being a grown-up. Just for trying to make friends with someone, they’ll arrest you and accuse you of being a stalker if you’re not careful.

“But you don’t believe Mr. Kutani is a bad person, do you, Adam?”

“On December 11, 1972, he stood up for me against Saeki and Kanazawa. They were the class bullies. He got really beaten up for it.”

“Beaten up? Why?”

“He saw them picking on me and tried to protect me. Saeki and Kanazawa started hitting him and screeching like Bruce Lee. Kyu-chan is a good person, that’s why they made him class president, but he’s no use in a fight. My mother says the strongest people are the ones who don’t fight, but I’m not so sure.”

Shirotani-san was listening carefully. Her ears peeped out from her long brown hair. I wanted to take them in my mouth and chew them like chewing gum. But I resisted. You mustn’t give in to temptation.

“They beat him and beat him, but he just stood there with his arms open wide. He really did turn the other cheek—just like the priest told us to do. Blood was pouring from his nose. He had his arms spread wide like Jesus on the cross. I put my arms around him and said, ‘That’s enough, Kyu-chan. Let’s go,’ but he wouldn’t give up. The bullies probably just wanted to tease me and push me around a bit—but Kyu-chan was so stubborn. It made them mad, and they really laid into him.”

“Was he badly hurt?”

“His nose was all bloody. Some of it went on my hand. It was warm. I’d gone stiff as a board by then, but the warm feeling softened me up.”

“You seem to remember it very well.”

“It was a clear winter’s day. Not a single cloud. The blue of the sky was like water from a spring. You could smell the sunlight in the air. We put our arms around each other and cried.”

Shirotani-san was carrying a shoulder bag, with a neat little buckle shaped like a heart. It was quite a big bag for a woman to be carrying around.

“So Mr. Kutani’s really a good person, then?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Even if they burned him at the stake, he would never lose faith. He’s weak—but in other ways, I think maybe he’s really strong. I don’t really know.”

For a while she sat tapping the bottom of her ballpoint pen against her cheek, then started twirling it around her fingers like a baton.

“I could write it up. There’s perhaps not quite enough for a whole article in it. It’s an interesting story, though. Right now, everyone’s all fired up about Prince Charming turning out to be just another grubby middle-aged politician.”

She was still twirling the thing around her pretty little fingers. It flashed and shone every time it turned. I felt myself falling deeper under her spell. I would happily have married her. Maybe she would let me have sex with her. I was fired up, too. This hotel lobby was a nice place to be in.

“What’s wrong? Are you upset about something? You’ve turned bright red.”

I couldn’t have said why, but I felt myself stiffening all over. I liked her. I felt so embarrassed and shy. But if I came on to her, they’d arrest me and tell me I was a grown-up now and ought to know better. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I’d just turn into a big stone, right here in the lobby. And stay here quietly till the end of time, till the whole world was destroyed by atomic bombs.

The sparkling chandeliers looked like Christmas, and the ceiling of the lobby reminded me of a church. A church of love. The piano could have been an altar. I could see the white body of Jesus above it and Shirotani-san standing next to me in a white wedding dress. We would make a promise of everlasting love in front of Him.

Her phone was ringing. She flipped up the silver lid with a pale finger, tossed her hair back, and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hello? Yes, it’s me. No, not yet. Yes. Tomorrow. What, after I get back to Tokyo?”

She kept pushing back her hair with her fingers as she talked, nodding all the time. She looked so sexy. The way she kept twisting her pen around the fingers of her right hand was bewitching. There was a whiff of peppermint on her breath when she sighed. Who was she talking to? Her boyfriend? What if she was making arrangements to have sex with him after she got back to Tokyo tomorrow? That would be hard to take.

“I really don’t think that’s going to be possible,” she was saying—turning him down loud and clear. What kind of person would keep insisting after a refusal like that?

“After the party, he’s meeting with supporters, as far as I know.”

Maybe the man on the other end of the line had a wife, too. There’s no excuse for someone to have more than one woman for himself. If one person takes more than his share, someone else gets left out—and that someone always seems to be me. It’s not fair. That’s why the Bible says adultery is a sin.

“All right. I’ll see what I can do. But I’m telling you, I don’t think it’s very likely.”

She snapped her phone shut with a click.

“So you’re not upset anymore?” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“If you make fun of me, I’ll go all stiff again.”

I wanted her to take me seriously. I didn’t mind listening if she was having love problems. I may not be like other people—but even so, I don’t like being treated like an idiot.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… my brother—well, he’s like you. But his case is much more serious. He can hardly speak. He has to live in a special home. He still comes back for the holidays, though. Whenever he gets annoyed, he sits down on the floor and refuses to budge. And he weighs nearly two hundred pounds, so it really is like trying to shift a boulder to move him.”

“I get like that, too, sometimes—so heavy I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I start beating myself around the head with my hands. But maybe it’s all part of God’s plan.” I know what it’s like. You’re a stone, with no way to defend yourself except by keeping still and ignoring everything around you.

I couldn’t help wondering about the person on the other end of the line. “Was that your brother on the phone just now?”

“He can’t use the phone. He can hardly talk.”

“Who was it then?”

“The desk? What, like furniture?”

“Ha! Might as well be—my boss. Sits there like a piece of furniture and expects me to run around dealing with all his impossible requests. Wants me to get an interview. Whatever it takes, he says…”

“They want me to talk to Mr. Kutani and get his side of the story.”

“So why don’t you just talk to him?”

“Don’t think I haven’t tried. I keep applying for an interview, but he won’t see me. Besides, he won’t say a word to anyone about the scandal. No comment.”

“Maybe he turns to stone, too, sometimes?”

“I’m sure he wishes he could when he’s being hounded like this.”

On the banks of the Urakami River is a place strewn with large stones. But these are no ordinary ones. They’re the remains of people who just couldn’t take it anymore. People who came in search of water when the atom bomb fell. This is where the faithful were burned at the stake. They turned to stone, and have stayed like that ever since.

Her soft eyes looked inquiringly into mine. Was this it? Had the moment arrived at last for Adam to be seduced by Eve? Had Adam finally found the piece of his rib he’d been looking for all this time? Maybe, just maybe, these forty-five years of loneliness were at an end. If my mother found out, she’d probably come rushing along to see it for herself, even with the tubes stuck up her nose.

“If I hand this note to his secretary, Adam, and he passes on your message, do you really think Mr. Kutani will see you?”

“No doubt about it. He’ll come and find me. We connected with our eyes when he came in.”

There are a few people I can do that with: the teachers in the Sunshine Group at school, the people in the volunteer care group. My mother says God sends these people to watch over us and make sure we’re not alone in the world.

“It looks as if the allegations are going to hold up. There will probably be a hearing as soon as he gets back to Tokyo tomorrow. They’re saying he might be arrested there and then. So tonight is my only chance. Do you think you could introduce me?”

I would have done anything for her. I nodded proudly and told her to leave it to me. Our team leader at work told me off once for boasting about being close friends with Kyu-chan when he was on TV.

“Right, then. I’ll just pop over and pass this on to his secretary. And then, if you don’t mind, I’ll come back and wait here with you.”

She stood up. In her hand she was holding the piece of paper with my name and phone number on it. She walked up to a man who was standing by the door to the room where the party was being held. When she handed him the note, he glanced suspiciously in my direction. I don’t like people in suits and ties. At work, we all wear sweaters and tracksuits. All the people at work have friendly smiling faces, like porpoises. Soon there’ll be no porpoises left in Omura Bay, they say.

“I got it to him,” she said with a grin when she came back. The smell of roses wafted up from the pleat in her skirt.

“What else do you remember about Mr. Kutani?”

“On December 29, 1972, we ate some sweet bean porridge with sticky rice together. That was after the neighborhood mochi party, where we pounded the rice with mallets…”

“I’m amazed how well you can remember the dates. That’s more than thirty years ago.”

“It was my job to tear the date off the calendar pad every day. I always remember numbers. Even the numbers on cars.”

“How do you remember them?”

“I don’t really know. My mother says God flicks through a calendar in my brain till it gets to the right date, but… When I think of something that happened a long time ago, the date just pops into my head. Probably there’s something weird about my brain.”

“It’s not weird, it’s a real talent. To be able to remember the exact dates of everything like that… I keep getting more forgetful all the time.”

She stared off vaguely into the distance again. “It’s a special gift from God.” She said this with some feeling.

“I don’t want any kind of special gift. I’d rather be a normal person—like half of Kyu-chan.”

“Do you have any family?”

“Only my mother.”

“What about brothers and sisters?”

“And your father?”

“I never had a father. My mother says the Holy Ghost appeared to her one day.”

“Wow! An Annunciation? Maybe you’re the Second Coming!”

“I think she was joking. A baby can only be born if the parents have sex. I wonder who she did it with, though.”

Shirotani-san rolled her eyes and was silent. There was something innocent and childlike about her. She looked more like a porpoise than anyone else I knew. I wanted to marry her, and have sex with her, and have three children. I’m sure our kids would be supersmart. We would go to church together as a family and eventually have grandchildren. Then, at long last, when we reached the kingdom of peace and love, we could all just give thanks and praise to God.

“Have you seen Mr. Kutani recently?”

“He gave a talk at our church on December 23, 1995.”

“Hmm, that’s quite a while ago. Not long after he was elected to the Diet, I think. What did he talk about?”

“I’m not really sure. I think he said he was going to work hard for world peace and get rid of nuclear weapons. He was wearing a suit with a bean-colored scarf around his neck. Like in The Godfather.”

“Do the people at your church still support him? I asked for an interview with local support groups, but they wouldn’t see me.”

“They won’t speak to anyone from the TV, either. My mother says it can’t be true. Kyu-chan is a fine man, she says. She says there must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

“But I think that’s part of the reason people are so suspicious—because he refuses to say anything. I thought he might take the opportunity to explain himself while he was back in his home city, but apparently not. He may feel this is a purely private matter—but as a politician he owes the public more information.”

“Why has he come home this time?”

“He was invited to give a speech by the local business community. It’s been scheduled for a while now. Apparently there was some talk about canceling, but thanks to the scandal, the place was packed. That’s what happens when you’re in the news. Did you get a chance to talk the last time you saw him?”

“We shook hands as he was getting in his car to leave, at the bottom of the slope in front of the church. He said: ‘It’s been a long time.’ And he told me to get in touch if ever I needed his help. That’s why I came to see him today.”

“But that was nearly ten years ago. Do you think he remembers?”

“Kyu-chan wouldn’t tell a lie.”

“Is there something wrong? Something you need help with?”

“My mother is dying. She says she can’t let go until her mind’s at ease about what will happen to me. But I don’t know how I’ll manage after she’s gone. I don’t want to go into a home. The people at the association say I should try living in a community house, but Mother kept saying she wanted to discuss things with Kyu-chan first. So I’ve come in her place.”

My mother can’t get up on her own anymore. She’s hooked up to a ventilator machine, and her shoulders heave when she breathes. Her breath smells bad. She’s asleep most of the time. Every now and then, she opens her eyes to look at me, and a sticky goo leaks out of her wrinkly eyes. “Maybe I should take you with me,” she says. “Bring you with me to God.” She’s always crying these days. When I wipe her eyes with a tissue, she says, “You’re a good, kind child,” and then starts crying again.

I don’t think God would allow us to die together. But I know I’ll be lost without her. And the thought of living in a home with a bunch of strangers is scary. I’ve never lived with anyone except my mother.

She scolds and nags me a lot of the time. But I’m sure I’d be lonely on my own. A helper might come and see me sometimes—but no wife. There’d be nobody to talk to at night. I’d be free to drink as much beer as I wanted, but who would wake me up when I fell asleep in my underpants, getting bitten by mosquitoes on my roly-poly tummy?

“But I wonder if he’ll have time to help you, though, Adam. He’s got his hands full with his own problems. They’re going to arrest him tomorrow.”

Why did she have to be so mean? I felt my body starting to stiffen again. I might really set hard before too long, stuck like that in silence for millions of years.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

I was beginning to get quite annoyed. Why didn’t she notice how I was feeling? It was so mean. I didn’t care what other people did—but I didn’t want her, of all people, to say nasty things.

“Have you got a job, Adam?”

“I used to work in a pickles factory. Now I fold boxes at the community workshop. Sets of noodles they sell as souvenirs. They put me in charge. I’m a veteran.”

“You fold boxes?”

“We fold along the lines, then put them together. I’ve been doing it for fifteen years now. I can fold a box in five seconds flat, with my eyes closed. I’m an expert.”

If only I could show her how good I was at it. It would bowl her over if she saw how quick and neat my technique is. Even our team leader says he can’t keep up with me. Anything to do with folding boxes, just leave it to me. I get paid sixty thousand yen as wages—that’s six times more than other people. Part of my job is to teach the new people when they join.

“You’re a master of your trade, Adam.”

It’s true. The youngsters look up to me. It’s time I got married and settled down.

Her cell phone was ringing again. She frowned and answered the thing impatiently. The ballpoint pen was twirling around her fingers faster than ever now. I could tell that I was in danger of falling completely under her spell if I wasn’t careful. I might start stalking her and get arrested. I would end up all alone in a cell, pulling at my winkie and crying myself to sleep.

Why does the pain get worse the deeper you love someone? They said I have the mind of a junior high school student. But I’ve got the body of a middle-aged man. I’m forty-five now, going thin on top. The thick hair that grows out of my nose is shot through with gray. Even my mother sighs sometimes when she looks at me now. “Your hair used to be so soft and fluffy,” she says. “Like cotton candy. How did you grow up into such a scruffy old man?”

I deliberately looked away from the pen spinning around her fingertips. There’s no place in my life for romance. It’s not right for me to love anyone.

I looked at the points of twinkling light on the chandeliers. They were so pretty. If they put up a big crucifix on the second-floor level, the whole lobby would be like a church. I felt like praying. I wanted to ask Him to show me a woman’s body. Lord, please let me have sex, I wanted to say. But you’re not allowed to pray for things like that.

I did once—on Sunday, July 8, 1996. During Mass, I started to have dirty thoughts that made me blush to my collar. When we got home, my mother wouldn’t stop nagging me till I told her what I’d been praying for. After I finally confessed the truth, she beat me hard with a ladle.

“How could you? How could you think such filthy thoughts? After our ancestors went to the stake with pure thoughts and prayers on their lips!” She was furious and said I had to learn to pray for more appropriate things. I wasn’t allowed any supper for a week. “I’m not eating either,” she said. “We’ll go and pray for forgiveness instead.” So we prayed together every evening, apologizing to God for what I’d done.

“Give us the strength to stand firm in the face of trials and temptations. Amen.” Now that is a suitable prayer, she said. She told me I had a dirty mind. She said I should scoop my brains out of my head and wash them clean with cold water. When I asked her how I was supposed to do that, she started beating me again with the ladle.

The lobby was full of people talking on their phones. More people had arrived with big black cameras over their shoulders. Some of them were sitting down working with small computers balanced on their knees.

I spaced out for a while and lost track of time. Suddenly the door to the room where Kyu-chan was having his reception swung open, and the corridor was humming with activity.

“Looks like they’ve finished,” Shirotani-san said. She picked up her camera. “Look after my bag for me, will you?” she said, tossing it down on the sofa and hurrying off toward the reception room without waiting for a reply.

The big bag with its wide bottom toppled over. The silver lid of a computer poked out, along with something else made of soft pink stuff. I caught the sweet-sour scent of a woman. Maybe it was her panties. Bad thoughts welled up inside me. I considered stuffing them in my pocket and running away.

If she wouldn’t marry me, at least I could carry her smell around with me. I would bury my face in her panties and inhale her woman’s smell to my heart’s content. And then cry lonely tears. My mother used to say God is always watching when you’re thinking bad thoughts. Maybe I’ll be punished for them one day.

Camera bulbs flashed white-and-blue as a wall of people with Kyu-chan at its center moved quickly toward the elevator. Shirotani-san returned to where I was sitting. “They’re going to hold a press conference. In the Diamond Room, on the second floor.” She pushed the computer back inside the bag and put the pink thing into her coat pocket. It wasn’t her panties at all, but a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” she said. “It doesn’t look like I’ll need to wait here with you anymore. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. Bye.” She slung the bag over her shoulder and ran up the escalator. The bottom of her skirt rose up as she ran, exposing her long white legs all the way to her thighs.

My mind was blank with shock, and I hurried up the escalator after her. People were spilling into the room at the end of the corridor. There were lights everywhere. The whole area glowed with a holy light. It was as though Jesus Himself were sitting in glory there. Narrowing my eyes, I edged forward with my hands held in front of me, but a man blocked my way and refused to let me inside. “You’re not Press,” he said.

“Excuse me, is this the Diamond Room?” I asked a young man holding a camera the size of a bazooka. “Yeah, I think so,” he said before disappearing inside with a woman in jeans carrying a long cable. The door shut behind them.

Shirotani-san was somewhere in that bright-lit room, no doubt about it. It didn’t matter if they wouldn’t let me in. I was bound to find her eventually if I kept a close eye on the door. There was a pay phone near the entrance, and I decided to wait there for her to come out. I didn’t mind waiting for hours if I had to.

I had been there ten minutes or so when several men suddenly ran out shouting, “He’s resigned! He’s resigned!” Then the doors swung open, and a crowd of people surged out.

I looked around desperately for Shirotani-san, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. I kept bumping into people, bouncing around like something in a pinball machine. I was swept out into the middle of the corridor, only to find Kyu-chan standing there in front of me in a smart suit, a look of surprise on his face.

He looked as though he had something he wanted to say, but he was swallowed up again into the crowd of journalists before he could speak. In the babble around me, I kept hearing the word “resignation.” They were ganging up on him, nagging at him to give a “full account.”

Hit him on the right cheek, and he would offer you the left. Kyu-chan hadn’t changed. He always was the kind of person who would take a beating in silence. He took what was coming to him patiently, without tears. The world is a cruel place. Things would be a lot happier if more people would just turn to stone.

I waited until there was no one left in the corridor or the Diamond Room. I still hadn’t found Shirotani-san, so I took the escalator back down to the lobby. I still thought I would bump into her again if I waited there. “Please let me find her,” I prayed to the bright light of the chandeliers.

Every now and then, people walked past. I must have been looking at them oddly, because someone from reception came over and made some comment. I went stiff, and this time I was really determined. This time I really will turn to stone, I thought. I’m not budging till I see her again. But even stony me still gets hungry. I could hear my tummy rumbling loudly for attention.

How much time passed after that, I couldn’t say. I might have been as old as the hills. I watched the faithful pass by in procession, their hands bound with rope. I saw the weeping, wailing children who were burned alive when the atom bomb fell and they turned to stone. I watched them quietly out of the corner of my eye.

My watch said 9:21. It’s a radio watch, the kind that never loses a second. And it’s solar powered, so it will keep going forever. Life was much easier after my mother bought it for me. The one I had before was always losing time. Just a few seconds here and there, but whenever it happened, I felt I was trapped in a different time zone, losing a bit of weight with each second lost until I disappeared completely. It made me feel nervous the whole time.

I yawned and a tear dribbled from the corner of my eye. Then my phone rang. Probably Mother, wondering where I was. But the number on the screen wasn’t hers; it wasn’t the hospital number either. Maybe it was Shirotani-san. My stony heart started pounding in my chest, and I let out a loud “Yeeaah!” The person at the reception desk gave me a funny look.

“Hello. Is that Adam’s phone?” A man’s voice. Too bad.

“Hello. I thought it must be you, Shu-chan.”

I was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t her. But it was Kyu-chan I had come to see. Besides, I thought maybe he would be able to tell me something about her. My mind was really firing today. I felt quite proud of myself.

“Where are you now, Shu-chan?”

“You’re not still in the lobby?”

“Waiting for me?”

“Come up to my room. I’ll send my secretary. The lobby on the first floor, right?”

Soon afterward, the elevator doors opened and a young man in a suit came over to where I was standing.

“Mr. Yamamori?” he asked me.

“The name’s Adam,” I said.

“Mr. Kutani is waiting. If you’d like to come with me.”

The man was as silent as a monk, and even after we got out of the elevator, he said nothing as he led me to Kyu-chan’s room and knocked on the door. Kyu-chan opened it and waved us inside. He looked tired and wasn’t wearing a tie anymore.

It was a beautiful room, with huge windows at the front and side. I once stayed in a fancy hotel in Oita for the annual meeting of our Youth Division, on the night of March 7, 2001. This room, though, was even bigger and more spick-and-span than the one we had then. But it was too big for one person. It felt silent and empty. It was the kind of room where a person might go to Confession.

“You’ve had a lot of calls, sir, asking you to get in touch,” his secretary said from by the door.

“I don’t want to talk to anyone else apart from my friend here this evening. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to refuse all calls.”

“Things have been crazy since the story broke on the evening news.”

“I phoned the secretary-general earlier this evening to let him know. I left a message for the head of the support group as well. I’m sure everyone will be relieved to get it over with.”

“But people are desperate to talk to you. What do you want me to say?”

“Tell them I’ll see them when I get back to Tokyo tomorrow. To be honest, I’m not sure there’ll be time for this kind of thing anymore.”

“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

“What else can I do? I’m sorry to let everyone down, but I don’t have any choice. So for tonight, no more messages please. You should try to get some rest.”

“I don’t think there’s much chance of that.” The secretary then snapped to attention and gave a formal bow. “I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done, sir,” he said. He sounded as if he were trying not to cry. Then he turned and left the room. As soon as he was gone, Kyu-chan’s expression relaxed, and he held out his hand to me. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“Good to see you again. It’s been a long time. I knew it was you when I saw you in the lobby.”

“So you did recognize me.”

“How could I miss a tie like that? It looks like a red bandanna. It suits you.”

“My mother gave me a hard time about it. She says my taste is terrible.”

Suddenly I wanted to cry. “She’s dying,” I said quietly.

“Is it an illness?”

“Her lungs are weak. She’s hooked up to an oxygen machine in the hospital, and she wheezes when she breathes. Her eyes are gummed up. She’s old now and getting weaker all the time. Her face looks like a chicken.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, I won’t be able visit her on this trip. Please give her my best wishes when you see her.”

“She told me I had to remember to say thank you when I saw you. So: thank you very much.”

“For all you did for us.”

“But that must be thirty years ago now.”

Everything in the room was bright and shiny. It was like being in a showcase. I walked over to the window by the big sofa. When I parted the lace curtains, I could just about make out the flickering lights of the docks across the dark sea.

“The view’s better on this side,” he said. “More neon.” I went over and looked out the other window. The main road ran directly in front of the hotel; there were neon lights blazing everywhere.

“Look—over there you can see the spire of the Nakamachi church.”

Straining my eyes, I could just about see the white cross of the church in the darkness. It’s a beautiful building. It looks like it’s made out of cream.

“I had a bit of time to myself after I checked in this afternoon, so I stood here looking out at that cross on top of the steeple. Pure white against the blue sky… I don’t get to church much in Tokyo.”

“I haven’t been going either since my mother went into the hospital.”

“It’s important to find time to talk to God.”

“Do you talk to Him, Kyu-chan? I try my best. But He never talks back.”

“Most of the time, that’s how it is. God doesn’t answer. For hundreds of years, the faithful here must have whispered the same questions and answered them themselves. Forgotten by the Church, in hiding, in secret… It’s the same for me, too, most of the time. But I think, just once, something special occurred.”

“Do you remember in junior high when the two bullies beat me up that day?”

“Saeki and Kanazawa? December 11, 1972.”

“That’s right. Blood was pouring out of my nose, and I hardly knew where I was. And still I let them hit me.”

“You were my savior that day, Kyu-chan.”

“My head felt woozy from the first blow. I was scared, and I wanted to run away. But my feet seemed to have a mind of their own. Without knowing why, there I was standing bravely in front of them. Go on, hit me. Hit me all you like, you jerks… For a moment, I felt a voice from outside whispering in my heart. I often think maybe it was the voice of God I heard that day.”

He closed his eyes and seemed to be thinking back on what had happened. I always knew he had a deep faith.

“Maybe that’s what we’ll hear in our hearts at the Last Judgment… Anyway, I was thinking about these things earlier as I looked out at the cross on the church, when suddenly I heard a voice say: enough. It was just me talking to myself, of course—but it reminded me of that time in school. It made up my mind.”

I couldn’t really follow what he was saying, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, my tummy started rumbling.

“What did you do about dinner?”

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“You mean you waited all that time without eating anything?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, patting me on the back. When we were at school, he used to pat me like that whenever I was teased and went stiff. His hand felt as warm as ever. He could make even stone feel soft with his hands. I was certain that everything the television and newspapers were saying was just lies. Kyu-chan was one of the good guys, just as he always had been.

“There are some sandwiches left if you like. I had some cold noodles at the party, but I was still hungry so I ordered room service. There’s coffee, too.”

On a table next to the bed was a plate covered with a silver lid shaped like an egg cut in half. Kyu-chan sat me down in a chair and lifted the lid. Underneath was an assortment of pork cutlet, egg, and vegetable sandwiches.

“I’m hungry. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Help yourself. Finish it off. I’ll order some more later.”

“In that case, I’ll have the lot. Amen.”

After this quick prayer, I reached out for the pork sandwich. Kyu-chan smiled and poured some coffee. When I bit into it, the juice oozed out from between the batter and the meat and soaked into the bread. It was enough to satisfy even a picky eater like me.

“Just before the last election,” I told him, “I bought twenty katsu sandwiches at the convenience store and handed them around to everyone in the place I work at. They say katsu sandwiches are good luck, since it sounds like the word for ‘winning.’”

“Why did you do that?”

“I asked everyone to vote for you. But they said it wasn’t fair to ask for favors without giving anything in return. Then after I produced the sandwiches, they all voted for you.”

“Oh dear. I shouldn’t be hearing this,” he said with a laugh, holding his hand to his head in embarrassment. “That’s a resigning offense in itself.”

“Is it true they’re going to arrest you?”

“There’ll be a hearing at the public prosecutors when I get back to Tokyo tomorrow. Word came through before I got on the plane this morning. Probably they’ll arrest me as soon as the hearing is over.”

“And then will you have to go to prison?”

“What did you do?”

He reached down and scratched his ankle. With his socks off, he had a poor man’s feet. His socks were over on the bed where he’d tossed them. With my doglike sense of smell, I could pick up the sour whiff of his feet.

“I did something wrong. I’m prepared to take full responsibility for what I did.”

“Is it true you gave your girlfriend a job?”

He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “I can’t lie to you, can I, Shu-chan?” he said in a whisper. I thought he might start crying. “I’ll tell you what happened, if you don’t mind listening.” I nodded, then polished off the second pork sandwich and moved on to the egg.

“It started a while back, just after I was elected. A woman came to see me. The person who introduced her said she had some problems she wanted to discuss.”

“Everyone comes to you with their problems, Kyu-chan.”

“She was in her early thirties then. She had a baby who was severely handicapped, and her husband’s family had been very cold toward her since the baby was born. They’d basically forced her to separate from her husband. The way they treated her was awful. She was struggling to get by—she couldn’t very well go to work with a newborn baby in her arms. But she was determined to raise her child on her own. And that’s when she came to ask for my help in finding a job.”

Kyu-chan is one of the good guys. If he hears that someone’s in trouble, he won’t rest till he’s done something to help.

“Was she pretty?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Well, you had to do something to help, then.”

He laughed. “A politician has to help people who come to him with their problems, Shu-chan—whether they’re attractive young women or not! But it wasn’t that simple. She had no real prospects, and there were various factors that made it difficult for her to find a job. She’s a very proud person and didn’t want to depend on benefits, so she was struggling to get by. I didn’t know what to do. It was another member of the Diet—someone who’d been there much longer than I had—who advised me to give the woman a job as my secretary for a while. So I decided to pay her a salary for three months, just until she found another job. It was a routine thing at the time. Lots of other members were doing the same thing. I didn’t really give it much thought. I began to realize what I’d done a few years ago, when several people were arrested on similar charges. I wanted to come clean, but people always stopped me.”

“Is she the one they say was your mistress?”

“Mistress? There was a relationship for a while. But it lasted less than two months.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

Kyu-chan leaned his head to one side, looking a bit like a praying mantis. “You don’t beat about the bush, do you, Shu-chan? But you can understand—you’re a romantic, too. You know what it’s like when two people’s hearts connect—as if you’re sinking into each other.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’m not a big hit with the girls like you.”

I was starting to feel a bit resentful. I imagined the woman he was with was Shirotani-san, and it gave me a sharp pain inside. I banged myself on the head, just once, with my hand.

“It started not long after I hired her as my secretary. I had a meeting of some kind, and after it finished, I was talking to her in the lobby. She was feeling down about things, left alone to look after a child who couldn’t even feed itself; forced into a divorce without alimony or any kind of support. It was a miserable story. I remember her asking, Is it really such a crime to give birth to a handicapped child? I felt really sorry for her, and before I knew what I was doing, I was stroking her on the back and praying, asking God to have mercy on her.”

“You always used to pat people on the back when you felt sorry for them.”

“It happened very naturally. Suddenly, I had my arms around her. Her back was so tense it felt as though she had a pair of wings tucked away there. I could sense something welling up inside her. I think we both felt something. It’s at moments like that that two hearts can really respond to each other. We took a hotel room and held each other as if nothing else in the world mattered. I felt as if I’d caught hold of an angel that had fallen to earth. You know what I mean when I say we embraced?”

“It means you had sex.”

He went red. I suppose he was embarrassed.

“For two months, I thought of nothing but the next time I could see her. She was constantly on my mind. I must have been in love.”

“But you were married, Kyu-chan.”

He hung his head and sighed. He made me think of someone condemned to be nailed to the cross or burned at the stake.

“I feel terrible for my wife and children. We have two daughters—one in high school, one in junior high. They haven’t spoken to me for two months now. At home, they turn and look the other way whenever we meet. They look so upset and depressed the whole time. I’m sure they’re suffering more from all this than I am. The media can be so unforgiving. I don’t mind them attacking me, but not my family…”

“Does this mean you’ve given up on world peace and banning nuclear weapons?”

I was getting upset, too. I couldn’t stop thinking of Shirotani-san as his mistress. It was because people like Kyu-chan took two women for himself that I was left with none at all.

“For those two months, I hardly thought of anything else,” he admitted. He didn’t look very happy about it.

“As long as I had her in my arms, nothing else mattered. Even if war had broken out and nuclear bombs were exploding all over the world, I probably wouldn’t have cared. I had forgotten everything—politics, faith, God. I thought of her all the time. There was no room for anything else. She was like a sunburst—so bright I was blinded to everything else. Have you ever been in love like that, Shu-chan?”

On December 20, 1989, an older guy from work took me to a sex place in Nakasu where I was allowed to touch a woman down there. There was a ball on the ceiling they called a “mirror ball.” It kept turning round and round like a frozen moon, throwing a dim light. It was like being at the bottom of the sea. I paid ten thousand yen for the thirty-minute service, and a woman came and plopped herself down in my lap. She was wearing a short skirt as if she was on her way to play tennis, with no panties over her silky smooth bottom.

Between her legs was what looked like a hairy sea cucumber. It was too dark for me to see clearly what was going on down there. All I knew was that it was something fuzzy and damp. Her fingernails smelled like vanilla ice cream.

I couldn’t make out her face very well. “My name’s Miyo,” she said. She didn’t treat me like an idiot at all. She unzipped my pants and put her hand on me. “Who’s a big boy, then?” she said, stroking my winkie and balls with her fingers. So this is what it’s like to have sex, I thought, raising my eyes to God in thanks. “Where do I stick it in?” I asked, but she just shook her head. “That’s not allowed,” she said.

But I didn’t really mind. It felt nice cuddling in the dark, watching the mirror ball go round and round. But when my thirty minutes were up, Miyo went off to her next customer and I was left alone.

I stood outside under a cheap plastic umbrella and waited for her to come out. “Come on, let’s go. It’s freezing,” the guy with me started grumbling. Eventually he pushed off, too. I remember there were two cars parked in the alley outside the club. Their registration numbers were 7670 and 8231. In a restaurant window nearby was the number 1970.

Late in the night, the rain turned to sleet. I kept count as it fell on my umbrella, so I would know how much had fallen. The numbers got bigger and bigger until they started to spill out of my head.

This was in the days when my watch was always off by a few minutes, and I felt I was trapped in a separate time zone from Miyo. I began to worry that I might never see her again. It was nearly morning when she finally came out. She was with a scary-looking man in a white suit with sharp, pointy lapels. I plucked up my courage and called out to her: “Hey, can we do it some more?” She looked over at me. “Have you really been waiting out here all this time?” she said. “In the cold? I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t like you—I quite like nice and simple people. But I can’t play with you if you don’t pay for it. It’s my job.” Then the man in the white suit put her in a car, and they drove off. She turned around to look at me several times as they disappeared.

I thought of nothing else for the next six months. I saved and saved, till eventually I had fifty thousand yen. I even gave up pachinko. But when I went back to Nakasu again that summer, Miyo had already left the club, and I had no way of finding out where she’d gone. The other people who worked there were suspicious and refused to give me her address or phone number. In the end, they grabbed me and threw me out of the place. Miyo, woman number 729 in my life, had vanished. I kept on looking for another six months. That was real, grown-up love, which I’ll never forget for as long as I live.

“Shirotani-san is number 927.”

“Shirotani-san?”

“Yeah. You must know her. She writes for a newspaper. Long hair, carries a big bag, always twirling a pen around her fingers.”

“Never heard of her.”

“No? I met her while I was waiting in the lobby and fell in love with her right away.”

“Still the same old Shu-chan. You always were a romantic. All it took was for someone to say hello, and you were head over heels.”

Not one of the 926 women I’ve been in love with has ever returned my feelings. Shirotani-san was number 927.

“I wonder what paper she works for,” I said.

“She must be new. I don’t recognize the name.”

“You and I have known each other for a long time, right?—ever since we were kids. So I don’t have to hide anything from you. I really want to have sex with her. I can’t help thinking about it. I want to have children who’ll live on after I’m gone. Once, a long time ago, I said a dirty prayer to God and made my mother really angry. But I can’t help it—I really want to have sex at least once. Does that make me a bad person? Will God punish me for being a dirty old man?”

Kyu-chan smiled and shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s a sin. I don’t think it’s even anything bad. If it were, then I’m deep in sin, too. Every man on earth would be a sinner. And probably all the women too. Even love itself would be a sin. It would mean that God made a mistake when he created Eve out of Adam’s rib. But…”

“You need to consider the other person’s feelings.”

“I know. Otherwise they can arrest you for stalking. Maybe we could start as friends?”

“Why are you asking me? I don’t even know her.”

“But you could look her up.”

“You’re a member of the Diet. You could ask your secretary to find out, if you wanted to.”

He heaved a sigh and flopped back in his chair. I could see his bare feet poking out from the bottom of his trousers. Bits of hair sprouted from his shins.

“I’ve resigned. I made an announcement at the press conference just now. I’m not a Diet member anymore.”

He looked a bit weepy. Maybe he was just tired. But I had no choice. There was no one else I could turn to.

“My mother is dying. She told me to come and ask you for advice. She said you wouldn’t want to see me left on my own. If I got married, she could probably rest easy.”

“Listen, Shu-chan. Don’t you understand what I’ve been saying? I can’t do anything for you now. I’ll probably be arrested tomorrow and locked away. I’m sorry to let your mother down, but there’s nothing I can do.”

His face was pale and heavy, his eyes sunken like one of those statues on Easter Island.

He must have been tense from all the stress. But my mind was fixed on seeing Shirotani-san again, and that made me blind to how tired and grouchy he was feeling.

“You have to take care of me, Kyu-chan. I’m only half what I should be. All the things God should have given to me went to you instead. You took them all for yourself; that’s why I’m so stupid. Don’t you think you owe it to me to help me out?”

“That’s enough, Shu-chan!”

He refused to look at me, covering his face with his hands. I got to my feet and tugged at his arms, trying to pull them away from his face.

“Stop ignoring me. Talk to me properly! I know why you won’t look me in the eye! Shirotani-san was your mistress, and now you’re feeling guilty!”

I tugged at his shirtsleeves. “Talk to me, Kyu-chan! Talk to me!”

“Stop it!” he said. He was really getting angry now.

“Why are you trying to duck out of it?”

At this, he suddenly pushed my hands away from his shirt. He picked up the plate of sandwiches and banged it down hard on the table like a monkey in the zoo. The two vegetable sandwiches that had been left there went flying through the air. I felt something cold hit me on my cheek. A wet tomato seed.

He looked at me with a cold glint in his eyes. Suddenly, I understood. He wasn’t one of the good guys anymore. He wasn’t someone who managed to be weak and strong at the same time. He had a look in his eyes just like those bullies, Saeki and Kanazawa.

“Go home, Shu-chan. I want to be alone tonight. Go on, go home. I’m sick of being criticized. Why can’t people take care of their own problems? It’s not a politician’s job to be a nanny to the whole world.”

I felt a wave of anger wash over me as I got to my feet. Kyu-chan wasn’t my old childhood friend anymore. This is what happens when two people grow up: they’re not children any longer—and not friends either.

“Go on, go home. Why should I have to take shit from you, of all people?” He muttered something under his breath. As I touched my hand to the doorknob, I heard him suddenly shout out from behind me: “Wait!” I shuddered with fright.

He strode over to the door, his spindly ankles and bare feet sticking out from his trousers. He took a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and put it into the breast pocket of my jacket.

“I’m sorry I kept you so long. It’s late. Use this ticket for a taxi home.”

Nervously, I opened the door without a word.

I heard his voice behind me and then the sound of the door clicking shut.

I had turned to stone. I couldn’t even move my head to look behind me. By the time I got into the elevator, I could feel myself getting heavier. It was as if I was sinking fast to the bottom of the sea or a lake. I had no one left to depend on now except Shirotani-san. What would I do if she vanished too, just like Miyo? What would happen to me when my mother died and I was completely on my own?

I waited for her in the first floor lobby, with its high ceiling like a cathedral and its glittering chandeliers. I didn’t know where she was, but somehow I felt I would see her again if I waited here. I thought of the pure white figure of Christ on the altar of the Urakami church and pictured it on the wall of the lobby under the high ceiling. It was a long time since I’d said any prayers before a crucifix.

I yawned. It was 10:46. There was still no sign of Shirotani-san, and the man behind the desk was giving me funny looks. I decided to call it a day. But then, just as I was leaving the hotel, I suddenly caught a glimpse of her in the distance, going up the steps to the elevated walkway in front of the station. She had that bag slung across her shoulders as she took the steps two at a time. She was wearing a white coat. There was no doubt about it: it was her.

I took off after her as quickly as my tubby body would go. In spite of the cold, I broke into a sweat almost immediately. Soon I was gasping for breath, but I didn’t give up. I kept on running as fast as I could, desperate to catch up. She went along the walkway and headed down the steps to the streetcar stop.

There was the screech of iron wheels and a gust of air at my shoulder as a tram came to a halt. The automatic doors opened. As she stepped inside, I grabbed her by the wrist and called out her name. But the face I saw when she wheeled around looked nothing like Shirotani-san. It was long, like a cucumber, or one of those pug-faced festival masks. I let go of her hand with a gasp, and she glared at me. The doors closed, and the tram began to move. She kept her eyes fixed on me as it pulled away.

It turned out to be the last tram of the night. I heaved myself back up the stairs to the station and got into a taxi.

“Uramon,” I said. “Back of the university.”

I felt exhausted. I leaned back in the seat and stretched. Neon signs streaked past outside. They looked so pretty. I took off my shoes and turned right around to look out of the rear window. Shirotani-san had vanished into the city. Tomorrow she would get on a plane and fly back to Tokyo—a whole city of dazzling light. I had no idea how I would look for her there.

“Listen, have you got the money to pay for this?” the driver asked suddenly.

He must have been watching me in his rearview mirror. My mother had told me off for sitting like that in taxis: “Sit properly; you’re not a child anymore.” I’d forgotten.

“D’you have any money?” he asked again.

I took the ticket that Kyu-chan had stuck in my breast pocket and plunked it down on the little tray next to the driver’s seat. “All right,” he said. I didn’t bother to reply.

I could tell he was still keeping an eye on me in his mirror. People’s eyes can stab like thorns. Sometimes the world feels like a hellhole of strangers’ eyes. My mother and I have crawled our way through it together all these years. On June 12, 1968, she got into a fight on the train with two high school students who were looking at me with smirks on their faces. When they refused to apologize, she laid into them with her umbrella, but they shrugged it off and laughed in her face, which was streaming with tears. “Hey! So the dummy’s mom is a dummy too!”

She was so angry that I felt frightened when we got off the train. I knew I was different from other children. “I’m sorry for being what they called me,” I told her. I wanted to make her feel better. She put her arms around me as we stood in the middle of the road and squeezed me so tight I thought my backbone was going to break. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Shu,” she said. “You’re my sweet, precious Adam, a gift from God.” And she started sobbing again.

We were locked in a bear hug like two wrestlers. I had to lean back and gasp for breath. But my mother’s a Mary, and I knew she would always look after me just like the Holy Mother. She would never tease me. The thought made me happy. And that’s the way it has been—she really has taken care of me, for more than forty years now. Of course, there have been times when she’s shouted and scolded and smacked me. But I knew I was safe as long as I was with my Mary.

And now she was all shriveled and old, with oxygen tubes up her nose and crusty yellow goop in her eyes. The flame of her life has almost burned itself out. And her baby boy, once soft and white like cotton candy, was a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a flabby belly and a face red from gulping down beer like a fish. Who would want to take care of a shabby old thing like me when she was gone? Please God, I want a wife. I want a family. Where had Shirotani-san disappeared to?

“Here you are: Uramon.”

The driver obviously wanted to get rid of me. He had opened the automatic door and was scowling from the rearview mirror. Really, I’d wanted him to pull over on the other side of the road, but I decided to say nothing. I got out. The temperature had dropped, and without a coat I felt quite cold.

I was so worked up now that I started beating myself about the head as I walked along the bank of the Urakami River. Both my hands and my head were hurting. But my hands were beyond my control. I begged them to be friendly, but they wouldn’t listen and kept on pummeling me. Bang, bang, bang.

Why was the night so dark? The only light came from the occasional bits of brightness that escaped from the windows of apartment buildings along the river.

The wind whistled as it blew; otherwise, I could hear and see almost nothing. There was no one around. I thought of home. It would be just as cold and dark there. My body started to feel heavier again. I came to a wide dry stretch by a bend in the river. I caught a faint sound coming from somewhere. My hands stopped hitting me. It was a delicate sound like the chirping of a bell cricket. But it couldn’t be a cricket at this time of year. I looked around me. The only things I could make out were the large stones that had been washed onto the side of the river.

I heard the voices of men and women crying out.

Water, someone give me water! I’m burning! Somebody, please, water!

The heat, the heat! Kill me quick! Let me die and go to God! Run me through with your spear!

I’m always muttering to myself, but these weren’t my own words I was hearing. I was not the one screaming and weeping and crying out in pain. These were the voices of the stones. The stones were crying.

Terrified, I held my breath and ran straight across the dry riverbed as fast as I could.

I came out onto a brightly lit road and started up the hill toward the place with the cross. Not a single car passed. There was no one else out on the streets at this hour. My heart was still pounding, and I could feel myself getting heavier and heavier with every step I took.

I climbed the footpath lined with Chinese tallows and streetlamps until I emerged at the park in front of the Motohara intersection. I slumped down on a bench. The cold seeped into my backside, but there was no way I could stand up again. My body was too heavy. A small bulldozer stood abandoned in a corner of the park, with its clawlike shovel raised in the air.

Maybe I’ll turn to stone here too, I thought. Maybe I’ll become like those people by the riverside, left to weep and cry for tens, hundreds, thousands of years. Why has God abandoned them? Why doesn’t He do anything to help? Maybe God isn’t there anymore. Maybe He’s not anywhere. Maybe Heaven is empty, with no one at home.

Maybe they all knew it. My mother, the priest, even the pope in Rome. Maybe the faithful everywhere knew that Heaven was empty, but they kept praying anyway. But what would that mean? It was all too hard for a dummy like me to figure out.

Can you hear me, God? Are you out there somewhere? Don’t leave me all alone. Even if I turn to stone, I still want a family. I want a wife. I want children. I don’t want to go back to an empty house. The tips of my toes get cold when I sleep alone. At night, even the stones on the riverbank long to be warmed by the touch of someone’s skin.