him.
Despite all this, he'd never once thanked his grandfather for all he'd done. He didn't know what to say, and was also too preoccupied trying to get by. His grandfather died of cancer soon after Hoshino joined the Self- Defense Force. At the end he got senile and didn't even recognize him. Hoshino hadn't been back home once since the old man passed away.
When Hoshino woke up at eight the next morning, Nakata was still fast asleep and looked like he hadn't budged an inch all night. The volume and pace of his breathing, too, was unchanged. Hoshino went downstairs and ate breakfast with the other guests. A pretty bare-bones meal, though there were unlimited seconds on miso soup and rice.
'Will your companion be eating breakfast?' the maid called out.
'He's still out cold. Looks like he won't be needing breakfast. If you don't mind, could you not put away the futon for a while?'
At noon, with Nakata still fast asleep, Hoshino arranged for them to stay one more night. He went out to a soba place and had chicken and egg over rice. Afterward he strolled around for a while and wound up in a coffee shop, where he had a cup and a smoke and flipped through a few of the comic books.
When he got back to the inn, just before two, he found Nakata still hadn't woken up. Concerned, he felt the old man's forehead, but he didn't seem to have a fever. His breathing was calm and regular, and his cheeks had a healthy glow to them. He seemed perfectly fine. All he was doing was sleeping soundly, without ever even turning over in bed.
'Is he all right, sleeping this much?' the maid said when she looked in on them. 'Maybe he's ill?'
'He's exhausted,' Hoshino explained. 'Let's just let him sleep as much as he wants.'
'Okay, but I've never seen anybody sleep so much before…'
Dinnertime came and the sleep marathon continued. Hoshino went out to a curry restaurant and had an extra-large order of beef curry and a salad. After this he went to the same pachinko place as the night before and again played for an hour. This time, though, his luck changed, and for under ten dollars he won two cartons of Marlboros. It was nine-thirty by the time he got back to the inn with his winnings, and he couldn't believe his eyes-Nakata was still asleep.
Hoshino added up the hours. The old man had been sleeping for over twenty-four hours. Sure, he said he'd sleep a long time, so not to worry, but this was ridiculous! Hoshino felt uncharacteristically helpless. Suppose the old guy never woke up? What the hell was he supposed to do then?
'Cripes,' he said, and shook his head.
But the next morning, when Hoshino woke up at seven, Nakata was already awake, gazing out the window.
'Hey, Gramps, so you finally made it up, huh?' Hoshino said, relieved.
'Yes, Nakata just woke up. I don't know how long I slept, but it must have been a long time. I feel like a new man.'
'No kidding it was a long time! You went to sleep at nine p. m. the day before yesterday, so you've been asleep something like thirty-four hours. You're a regular Snow White.'
'Nakata's kind of hungry.'
'I bet you are. You haven't had a bite in two days.'
The two of them went downstairs to the dining room and had breakfast. Nakata amazed the maid at how much rice he packed away.
'You're as big an eater as you are a sleeper!' she exclaimed. 'It's like two days' worth of meals in one sitting!'
'Yes, I have to eat a lot now.'
'You're a really healthy person, aren't you?'
'Yes, Nakata is. I can't read, but I've never had a single cavity and don't need glasses. I never have to go to the doctor, either. My shoulders never get stiff, and I take a good dump every morning.'
'Isn't that something,' the maid said, impressed. 'By the way, what's on your schedule for today?'
'We're headed west,' Nakata declared.
'West,' she mused. 'That must mean you're going toward Takamatsu.'
'I'm not so bright and don't know geography.'
'Anyway, Gramps, why don't we go over to Takamatsu?' Hoshino chimed in. 'We can figure out what's next after we get there.'
'All right. Let's go to Takamatsu, then. We'll figure out what's next after we get there.'
'Sort of a unique style of traveling, I must say,' the maid commented.
'You got that right,' Hoshino said.
Back in their room, Nakata went to the toilet, while Hoshino, still in his yukata robe, lay back on the tatami and watched the news on TV. Not much was happening. Police still didn't have any leads in the murder of a famous sculptor in Nakano-no clues, no witnesses. The police were searching for the man's fifteen-year-old son, who'd disappeared shortly before the murder.
Man alive, Hoshino thought, a fifteen-year-old kid. Why is it that these days it's always fifteen-year-olds who're involved in all these violent incidents? Of course when he was fifteen himself, he stole a motorcycle from a parking lot and went for a joyride-without, mind you, a license-so he had no right to complain. Not that you could compare borrowing a motorcycle and slicing your dad into sashimi. It was only luck, maybe, that had kept him from stabbing his own father, because he'd certainly taken his share of beatings.
The news was just winding up when Nakata emerged from the bathroom. 'Mr. Hoshino, may I ask you something?'
'What's up?'
'Does your back hurt at all?'
'Yeah, it's an occupational hazard, I guess. Every trucker I know has back problems, just like pitchers all have sore shoulders. Why do you ask?'
'When I saw your back I thought maybe you had that problem.'
'Huh…'
'Do you mind if Nakata touches your back?'
'Be my guest.'
Hoshino lay facedown and Nakata straddled him. He put his hands just above the backbone and held them there. All the while Hoshino was watching some afternoon talk show featuring all the latest celebrity gossip. A famous actress had just gotten engaged to a not-so-famous young novelist. Hoshino didn't care, but there wasn't anything else on. Apparently the actress's income was ten times that of the novelist, who wasn't even particularly handsome or very intelligent looking.
Hoshino found the whole thing suspect. 'That marriage won't work out, I can tell you that. There's gotta be some kind of misunderstanding going on here.'
'Mr. Hoshino, your bones are out of line a bit.'
'Not surprising, what with the out-of-line kind of life I've led,' Hoshino replied, and yawned.
'It's going to cause all sorts of problems if you don't do something about it.'
'You think?'
'You'll get headaches, you won't be able to take a good dump. And then your back will go out on you.'
'That can't be good.'
'This will hurt a little. Do you mind?'
'No, go right ahead.'
'Honestly speaking, it's going to hurt a lot.'
'Look, Gramps, I've been punched out my whole life-at home, at school, in the SDF-but I survived. Not to brag or anything, but the days I haven't been hit I could count on both hands. So I'm not worried that something might hurt a little. Hot or tickly, sweet or spicy-bring it on.'
Nakata squinted, concentrating, carefully making sure he had his thumbs just where he wanted them. Once they were positioned just right, he ever so slowly increased the pressure, gauging Hoshino's reaction. He breathed in deeply, then let out a clipped cry like some winter bird's squawk, and pressed down with all his might on the area between muscle and backbone. The pain Hoshino felt at that instant was awful, unreasonably so. A huge
