Ruined Map - Abe Kobo [56]
At length I recovered my sense of time and, however faintly, my memory of the map. Without removing the radio from her ear, the girl pulled the lever of the cash register. “Do you take reservations for the parking lot over there?” I inquired, raising my voice.
Instead of answering, the girl merely looked sideways at the proprietor. The newspaper sank to the counter and the man raised his eyes. When our eyes met there were sparks. He spoke in a high-pitched voice, ill-suited to his growth of beard.
“Full up, I guess. Sorry.” Ignoring me, he lowered his ill-humored face to the newspaper.
“You’ve got a lot of free time around here.”
“What’s that?” snapped the girl grimly, taking the radio from her ear, overly reacting quite as if I had played some trick on her. Though I was bewildered, my imagination was unexpectedly stimulated. My resentment was washed away: it was as if I was under a hot shower, grasping my penis … an urge for release that made me want to laugh like an idiot, welling, pulsating within me. Perhaps I really did laugh—just a little. With my eyes fixed on the girl’s face, I walked around the register and grasped the receiver. I dialed Dainen Enterprises and asked to be connected with the young clerk Tashiro.
—“Tashiro? I want to thank you for yesterday.…” When I identified myself, he had a moment of confusion before responding. For an instant, I suspected he might have already heard about the death, but apparently not. As soon as I recalled to him his promise to have a drink with me, his tone changed to one of friendliness and intimacy—perhaps he had little experience in sharing confidences like this with strangers. I stared at the thick line of hair behind the girl’s ears. “Let’s meet at S—– station … where you drew the map for me yesterday … hmm, the spot where you were supposed to meet Mr. Nemuro.… I’d just like to check it out. Let’s say seven o’clock, all right? Then, most important, I’d like you not to forget to bring along the … uh … those special nude shots.” The girl hastily brought the radio to her ear, but there was no sign that she had turned it on. “After I’ve thoroughly gone over the nudes again, I’d like, if possible, to interview the model as soon as I can.…” Of course she could not hear the suddenly businesslike answers, so my exchange sounded quite meaningless. Then I lowered my voice and added—no, rather than an addition it was probably my real purpose: “Another thing I’d like you to think about: how would you go about blackmailing a fuel supplier? An ordinary fuel supply place … hmm … a retailer. I’d like your advice. What kind of blackmail is there? Think about it till we meet.”
I had the feeling of having tweaked the girl’s pug nose—as far as that goes, the proprietor’s too—with my conversation. Of course, from where I stood I could not make out her nose very well, for it was hidden by the wrist holding the radio. The proprietor’s face remained buried behind the newspaper and he was motionless. Immediately above his head the poster of the South American coffee plantation was comical, for one could suppose, in place of the lighting fixture discolored with dust, a sun scorching men and plants to a tawny yellow and gilding the distant mountain range. I could hear someone walking on the floor above. Slowly the sound of steps drew near, stopped directly over my head, and at the same rate withdrew again. I no longer stood motionless. When my surprise had passed, I regained my balance, like surf beating in on the shore, then returning to its original water line. His death had hurled the wave unexpectedly high, washing over my feet, sweeping away the slender line of road along the verge of the cliff, but when the water subsided there was nothing new, nothing to make much of a fuss about. In the final analysis, the burden I was charged with had simply been reduced to the limit of the first thirty thousand yen. The obligation remained for me to carry on the investigation