The Woman in the Dunes - Machi Abe [18]
The woman put one hand on the rim of the water jar and peered into it; with the tip of a finger she slowly stirred the surface of the water round and round. He vigorously swung his shirt in the air—it was heavy with the dampness of sweat and sand—and wound it firmly around his wrist.
She looked around apprehensively, and her features tensed. Her solicitous manner was so natural that one would have thought she had spent her whole life with such an expression on her face. He decided to behave as casually as possible.
“Hot, isn’t it? Heavens, you can’t wear a shirt when it’s this hot!”
Yet she still appeared suspicious and looked dolefully at him. She gave a timid and artificial laugh, and spoke hesitantly.
“Yes, it really is. You’ll get a sand rash right away if you leave your clothes on when you perspire.”
“A sand rash?”
“Yes. The skin festers, like after a burn, and then scales off.”
“Hmm. I wonder if it really scales. It molders, I should say, with the humidity.”
“Yes.… That’s why.…” Maybe she was beginning to relax at last, her tongue was loosening. “When we’re likely to perspire, that’s why we go around with no clothes as much as we can. After all, we live down in these holes, so we don’t really have to worry about anybody seeing us.”
“Of course. Look, I don’t want to put you to any trouble, but I would like to get this shirt washed.”
“Certainly, I’ll be glad to. They’ll be bringing our drum of water tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Tomorrow will be a problem,” he chuckled. Actually he had cleverly maneuvered the conversation to his subject. “Incidentally, when in heaven’s name are they going to let me out of here? I’m going to be in a real fix. If a salaried worker like me breaks his schedule even by a half day, he stands to lose a lot. I don’t want to waste a minute. There are a lot of coleoptera hopping around in sandy soil like this. I wonder if you know of any. I wanted to find a new species on this vacation.”
She moved her lips faintly. But no words came out. Perhaps she was just repeating the unaccustomed name. He realized that her mind was again closing. He went on instinctively.
“Say, I wonder if there isn’t some way of getting in touch with the villagers, like beating on a kerosene can or something.”
But she made no answer. She again fell into her passive silence as quickly as a stone sinks into water.
“What’s the matter with you? Damn it! Why don’t you say anything?” Again his nerves were on edge, but he somehow stifled his desire to shout. “I don’t get it. If there’s some misunderstanding, all right! There’s no use crying over spilt milk. This silence of yours is the worst thing. My pupils are always doing that, but I tell them that the most cowardly thing they can do is to clam up and pretend to take the blame themselves. If there’s any explanation, out with it at once.”
“But …” Her eyes wavered toward her elbow, but in a surprisingly firm voice she said: “I think you already understand.”
“I understand …?” He gasped, unable to conceal his shock.
“Yes, you must have understood by now.”
“But, I don’t understand!” he finally shouted. “How should I understand? You can’t expect me to understand when you never say a word, can you?”
“Well, life here is really too hard for a woman alone.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“It does have something to do with you. I’m afraid I’ve acted wrong toward you.”
“What do you mean, ‘acted wrong’?” he said, stumbling over his words in his eagerness. “In other words, why the conspiracy? You baited the trap. You thought I’d spring at once if a woman was there, like some dog or cat.”
“It’s getting to be the season now when the winds come from the north and we worry about the sand storms,” she said, glancing at the wooden door, which was standing open. There was a foolish confidence in her quiet, monotonous voice.
“It’s no joke! There’s a limit to absurdity.