don't remember. A very strange flute, for sure. But maybe-just maybe-you might be able to hear it, Mr. Nakata. If I had a flute on me right now we could try it, but I'm afraid I don't.' Then, as if recalling something, he pointed one finger straight up. 'Actually, I was about to cut off the heads of the cats I've rounded up. Harvest time. I've got all the cats that can be caught in that vacant lot, and it's time to move on. The cat you're looking for, Goma, is among them. Of course if I cut her head off, you wouldn't be able to take her home to the Koizumis, now would you?'
'That's right,' Nakata said. He couldn't take back Goma's cut-off head to the Koizumis. If those two little girls saw that they might give up eating forever.
'I want to cut off Goma's head, but you don't want that to happen. Our two missions, our two interests, conflict. That happens a lot in the world. So I'll tell you what-we'll negotiate. What I mean is, if you do something for me, I'll return the favor and give you Goma safe and sound.'
Nakata lifted a hand above his head and vigorously rubbed his salt-and-pepper hair, his habitual pose when puzzling over something. 'Is it something I can do?'
'I thought we'd already settled that,' Johnnie Walker said with a wry smile.
'Yes, we did,' Nakata said, remembering. 'That's correct. We did settle that already. Pardon me.'
'We don't have a lot of time, so let me jump to the conclusion, if you don't mind. What you can do for me is kill me. Take my life, in other words.'
Hand resting on the top of his head, Nakata stared at Johnnie Walker for a long time. 'You want Nakata to kill you?'
'That's right,' Johnnie Walker said. 'Truthfully, I'm sick and tired of this life. I've lived a long, long time. I don't even remember how old I am. And I don't feel like living any longer. I'm sick and tired of killing cats, but as long as I live that's what I have to do-murder one cat after another and harvest their souls. Following things in the correct order, step one to step ten, then back to one again. An endless repetition. And I've had it! Nobody respects what I'm doing, it doesn't make anybody happy. But the whole thing's all fixed already. I can't just suddenly say I quit and stop what I'm doing. And taking my own life isn't an option. That's already been decided too. There're all sorts of rules involved. If I want to die, I have to get somebody else to kill me. That's where you come in. I want you to fear me, to hate me with a passion-and then terminate me. First you fear me. Then you hate me. And finally you kill me.'
'But why-why ask me? Nakata's never ever killed anyone before. It's not the kind of thing I'm suited for.'
'I know. You've never killed anyone, and don't want to. But listen to me-there are times in life when those kinds of excuses don't cut it anymore. Situations when nobody cares whether you're suited for the task at hand or not. I need you to understand that. For instance, it happens in war. Do you know what war is?'
'Yes, I do. There was a big war going on when Nakata was born. I heard about it.'
'When a war starts people are forced to become soldiers. They carry guns and go to the front lines and have to kill soldiers on the other side. As many as they possibly can. Nobody cares whether you like killing other people or not. It's just something you have to do. Otherwise you're the one who gets killed.' Johnnie Walker pointed his index finger at Nakata's chest. 'Bang!' he said. 'Human history in a nutshell.'
'Is the Governor going to make Nakata a soldier and order me to kill people?'
'Yes, that's what the Governor will do. Tell you to kill somebody.'
Nakata thought about this but couldn't quite figure it out. Why in the world would the Governor do that?
'You've got to look at it this way: this is war. You're a soldier, and you have to make a decision. Either I kill the cats or you kill me. One or the other. You need to make a choice right here and now. This might seem an outrageous choice, but consider this: most choices we make in life are equally outrageous.' Johnnie Walker lightly touched his silk hat, as if making sure it was still in place.
'The one saving grace for you here-if indeed you need such a thing-is the fact that I want to die. I've asked you to kill me, so you don't need to suffer any pangs of conscience. You're doing exactly what I'm hoping for. It's not like you're killing somebody who doesn't want to die. In fact, you're doing a good deed.'
Nakata wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on his hairline. 'But there's no way Nakata could do something like that. Even if you tell me to kill you, I don't know how to go about it.'
'I hear you,' Johnnie Walker said admiringly. 'You've never killed anybody before, so you don't know how to go about it. All right then, let me explain. The knack to killing someone, Mr. Nakata, is not to hesitate. Focus your prejudice and execute it swiftly-that's the ticket when it comes to killing. I have an excellent example right here. It's not a person, but it might help you get the picture.'
Johnnie Walker stood up and picked up a large leather case from the shadows below the desk. He placed it on the chair where he'd been sitting and opened it, whistling a cheery tune. As if performing a magic trick, he extracted a cat from out of the case. Nakata had never seen this cat before, a gray-striped male that had just reached adulthood. The cat was limp, but its eyes were open. It looked conscious, though only barely. Still whistling his merry tune-'Heigh-Ho' from Disney's Snow White, the one the Seven Dwarves sang-Johnnie Walker held up the cat like he was showing off a fish he'd just caught.
'I've got five cats inside this case, all from that vacant lot. A fresh batch. Just picked, fresh from the grove, so to speak. I've given them all injections to paralyze them. It's not an anesthetic-they're not asleep and they can feel pain, but they can't move their arms or legs. Or even their heads. I do this to keep them from thrashing about. What I'm going to do is slice open their chests with a knife, extract their still-beating hearts, and cut their heads off. Right in front of your eyes. There'll be lots of blood, and unimaginable pain. Imagine how much it'd hurt if somebody cut open your chest and pulled out your heart! Same thing holds true for cats-it's got to hurt. I feel sorry for the poor little things. I'm not some cold, cruel sadist, but there's nothing I can do about it. There has to be pain. That's the rule. Rules everywhere you look here.' He winked at Nakata. 'A job's a job. Got to accomplish your mission. I'm going to dispose of one cat after another, and finish off Goma last. So you still have some time to decide what you should do. Remember, now-it's either I kill the cats or you kill me. There's no other choice.'
Johnnie Walker placed the limp cat on top of the desk, opened a drawer, and with both hands extracted a large black package. He carefully unwrapped it and spread out the contents on the desk. These included a small electric saw, scalpels of various sizes, and a very large knife, all of them gleaming like they'd just been sharpened. Johnnie Walker lovingly checked each and every blade as he lined them up on the desk. Next he got several metal trays from another drawer and arranged them, too, on the desk. Then he took a large black plastic bag from a drawer. All the while whistling 'Heigh-Ho.'
'As I mentioned, Mr. Nakata, in everything there's a proper order,' Johnnie Walker said. 'You can't look too far ahead. Do that and you'll lose sight of what you're doing and stumble. I'm not saying you should focus solely on details right in front of you, mind you. You've got to look ahead a bit or else you'll bump into something. You've got to follow the proper order and at the same time keep an eye out for what's ahead. That's critical, no matter what you're doing.'
Johnnie Walker narrowed his eyes and gently stroked the cat's head. He ran the tip of his index finger up and down the cat's belly, then picked up a scalpel in his right hand and without any warning made an incision straight down the stomach. It all happened in an instant. The belly split wide open and reddish guts spilled out. The cat tried to scream but barely made any sound at all. His tongue, after all, was numb, and he could hardly open his mouth. But his eyes were contorted in terrible pain. And Nakata could well imagine how awful this pain was. A moment later blood gushed out, wetting Johnnie Walker's hands and running down his vest. But he didn't pay attention. Still to the accompaniment of 'Heigh-Ho,' he thrust his hand inside the cat's body and with a small scalpel skillfully cut loose the tiny heart.
He placed the gory lump on his palm and held it out for Nakata to see. 'Take a peek. It's still beating.'
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he popped the heart into his mouth and began chewing silently, leisurely savoring the taste. His eyes glistened like a child enjoying a pastry hot from the oven.
He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and carefully licked his lips clean. 'Fresh and warm. And still beating in my mouth.'
Nakata stared at the scene before him without a word. He couldn't look away. The smell of fresh blood filled the room.
Still whistling his jolly tune, Johnnie Walker sawed the cat's head off. The teeth of the saw crunched through the bone and severed it. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. The neck bone wasn't very thick, so the whole operation was quickly finished. But the sound had a strange weight to it. Johnnie Walker lovingly placed the severed head on the metal tray. As if relishing a work of art, he narrowed his eyes and gazed at it intently. He
