'Okay, but how do you know my name?'
'Chunichi Dragons fans I always call Hoshino. Nagashima's your basic Giants name-likewise, for the Dragons it's got to be Hoshino, right?'
'Yeah, but Hoshino happens to be my real name.'
'Pure coincidence,' the old man boomed out. 'Don't blame me.'
'So what do you want?'
'Have I got a girl for you!'
'Oh, I get it,' Hoshino said. 'You're a pimp. That's why you're dolled up like that.'
'Mr. Hoshino, I don't know how many times I have to say this, but I'm not dressed up as anybody. I am Colonel Sanders. Don't get mixed up here, all right?'
'Okay… But if you're the real Colonel Sanders, what the heck are you doing working as a pimp in a back alley in Takamatsu? You're famous, and must be raking in the dough from license fees alone. You should be kicking back at a poolside somewhere in the States, enjoying your retirement. So what's the story?'
'There's a kind of a warp at work in the world.'
'A warp?'
'You probably don't know this, but that's how we have three dimensions. Because of the warp. If you want everything to be nice and straight all the time, then go live in a world made with a triangular ruler.'
'You're pretty weird, you know that?' Hoshino said. 'But hanging out with weird old guys seems to be my fate these days. Any more of this and I won't know up from down.'
'That may be, Mr. Hoshino, but how about it? How about a nice girl?'
'You mean like one of those massage parlor places?'
'Massage parlor? What's that?'
'You know, those places where they won't let you do the dirty deed but can manage a BJ or a hand job. Let you come that way, but no in-and-out.'
'No, no,' Colonel Sanders said, shaking his head in irritation. 'That's not it at all. My girls do it all-hand job, BJ, whatever you want, including the old in-and-out.'
'Ah hah-so you're talking a soapland.'
'What land?'
'Quit kidding around, okay? I've got somebody with me, and we've got an early start in the morning. So I don't have time for any fooling around tonight.'
'So you don't want a girl?'
'No girl. No fried chicken. I'm going back to get some sleep.'
'But maybe you won't get to sleep that easily?' Colonel Sanders said knowingly. 'When a person's looking for something and can't find it, they usually can't sleep very well.'
Hoshino stood there, mouth agape, staring at him. 'Looking for something? How'd you know I'm looking for something?'
'It's written all over your face. By nature you're an honest person. Everything you're thinking is written all over your face. It's like one side of a split-open dried mackerel-everything inside your head's laid out for all to see.'
Instinctively, Hoshino reached up and rubbed his cheek. He spread his hand open and stared at it, but there was nothing there. Written all over my face?
'So,' Colonel Sanders said, one finger held up for emphasis. 'Is what you're looking for by any chance round and hard?'
Hoshino frowned and said, 'Come on, old man, who are you? How could you know that?'
'I told you-it's written all over your face. You don't get it, do you?' Colonel Sanders said, shaking his finger. 'I haven't been in this business all these years for my health, you know. So you really don't want a girl?'
'I'm looking for a kind of stone. It's called an entrance stone.'
'I know all about it.'
'You do?'
'I don't lie. Or tell jokes. I'm a straight-ahead, no-nonsense type of guy.'
'Do you know where the stone is?'
'I know exactly where it is.'
'So, could you-tell me where?'
Colonel Sanders touched his black-framed glasses and cleared his throat. 'Are you sure you don't want a girl?'
'If you'll tell me where the stone is, I'll think about it,' Hoshino said dubiously.
'Great. Come with me.' Without waiting for a reply, he walked briskly away down the alley.
Hoshino scrambled to keep up. 'Hey, old man. Colonel. I've only got about two hundred bucks on me.'
Colonel Sanders clicked his tongue as he trotted down the road. 'That's plenty. That'll get you a fresh-faced, nineteen-year-old beauty. She'll give you the full menu-BJ, hand job, in-and-out, you name it. And afterward I'll throw this in for free-I'll tell you all about the stone.'
'Jeez Louise,' Hoshino gasped.
Chapter 27
It's 2:47 when I notice the girl's here-a little earlier than last night. I glance at the clock by my bed to remember the time. This time I stay up, waiting for her to appear. Other than the occasional blink I don't close my eyes once. I thought I was paying attention, but somehow I miss the actual moment she appears.
She has on her usual light blue dress and is sitting there the same as before, head in hands, silently gazing at the painting of Kafka on the Shore. And I'm gazing at her with bated breath. Painting, girl, and me-we form a still triangle in the room. She never tires of looking at the picture, and likewise I never tire of gazing at her. The triangle is fixed, unwavering. And then something totally unexpected happens.
'Miss Saeki,' I hear myself say. I hadn't planned on speaking her name, but the thought welled up in me and spilled out. In a very small voice, but she hears it. And one side of the triangle collapses. Maybe I was secretly hoping it would-I don't know.
She looks in my direction, though not like she's straining to see. Her head's still in her hands as she quietly turns her face. Like something-she's not sure what-has made the air tremble ever so slightly.
I don't know if she can see me, but I want her to. I pray she notices me and knows I exist. 'Miss Saeki,' I repeat. I can't keep myself from saying her name. Maybe she'll be frightened by my voice and leave the room, never to return. I'd feel terrible if that happened. No-not terrible, that's not what I mean. Devastated is more like it. If she never came back everything would be lost to me forever. All meaning, all direction. Everything. I know this, but I go ahead and risk it anyway, and call her name. Of their own accord, almost automatically, my tongue and lips form her name, over and over.
She's not looking at the painting anymore, she's looking at me. Or at least I'm in her field of vision. From where I sit I can't see her expression. Clouds move outside and the moonlight flickers. It must be windy, but I can't hear it.
'Miss Saeki,' I say again, carried away by some urgent, compelling, overwhelming force.
She takes her head out of her hands, holds up her right hand in front of her as if to tell me not to say anything more. But is that what she really wants to say? If only I could go up to her and gaze into her eyes, to see what she's thinking right now, what emotions are running through her. What is she trying to tell me? What is she hinting at? Damn, I wish I knew. But this heavy, just-before-three-a. m. darkness has snatched away all meaning. It's hard to breathe, and I close my eyes. There's a hard lump of air in my chest, like I've swallowed a raincloud whole. When I open my eyes a few seconds later, she's vanished. All that's left is an empty chair. A shadow of a cloud slides across the wall above the desk.
I get out of bed, go over to the window, and look at the night sky. And think about time that can never be regained. I think of rivers, of tides. Forests and water gushing out. Rain and lightning. Rocks and shadows. All of these are in me.
