Dance Dance Dance

«I see,» I said. «So that's what it was.»

«He can be handy sometimes.»

«I'll say.»

«Papa said that the police had no right to hold you there like that. If you didn't want to stay there, you were free to go. Legally, that is.»

«I knew that myself,» I said.

«Why didn't you just go home then? Just up and say, I'm going. Sayonara.»

«That's a difficult question,» I said after some moments' thought. «Maybe I was punishing myself.»

«Not normal,» she said, propping up her chin.

It was late in the afternoon and the roads to Tsujido were empty. Yuki had brought a bagful of tapes with her. A com­plete travel selection, from Bob Marley's «Exodus» to Styx's «Mister Roboto.» Some were interesting, some not. Which was pretty much all you could say about the scenery on the way. It all sped past. Yuki sank into her seat silently listening to the music. She tried on the pair of sunglasses I'd left on the dashboard, and at one point she lit up a Virginia Slim. I concentrated on driving. Methodically shifting gears, eyes fixed on the road ahead, carefully checking each traffic sign.

I was jealous of Yuki. Here she was, thirteen years old, and everything, including misery, looked, if not wonderful, at least new. Music and places and people. So different from me. True, I'd been in her place before, but the world was a simpler place then. You got what you worked for, words meant something, things had beauty. But I wasn't happy. I was an impossible kid at an impossible age. I wanted to be alone, felt good being alone, but never had the chance. I was locked in these two frames, home and school. I had this crush on a girl, which I didn't know what to do about. I didn't know what love meant. I was awkward and intro­verted. I wanted to rebel against my teachers and parents, but I didn't know how. Whatever I did, I bungled. I was the exact opposite of Gotanda.

Even so, there were times that I saw freshness and beauty. I could smell the air, and I really loved rock 'n' roll. Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer nights.

«Hey,» I said to Yuki. «Could you tell about that man in the sheepskin? Where did you meet him? And how did you know I'd met him too?»

She looked at me, placing the sunglasses back on the dashboard, then shrugged. «Okay, but first, will you answer something for me?»

«I guess so,» I agreed.

Yuki hummed along with a hangover-heavy Phil Collins song for a moment, then picked up the sunglasses again and played with them. «Do you remember what you said after we got back from Hokkaido? That I was the prettiest girl you ever dated?»

«Uh-huh.»

«Did you mean that? Or were you just trying to make me like you? Tell me honestly.»

«Honestly, it's the truth,» I said.

«How many girls have you dated, up to now?»

«I haven't counted.»

«Two hundred?»

«Oh, come on,» I laughed. «I'm not that kind of a guy. I may play the field, but my field's not that big. I'd say fifteen, max.»

«That few?»

I nodded. This gave her something to puzzle over.

«Fifteen, huh?»

«Around there,» I said. «Twenty on the outside.» «Twenty, huh?» sighed a disappointed Yuki. «But out of all of them, I'm the prettiest?»

«Yes, you are the prettiest,» I said.

«You never liked the beautiful type?» she asked, lighting up her second Virginia Slim. I spotted a policeman at the intersection ahead, grabbed the cigarette out of her hand, and flung it out the window.

«I dated some pretty girls,» I went on. «But none of them was as pretty as you. I mean that. You probably will take this wrong, but you're pretty in a different way. Nothing like most girls. But please, no smoking in the car, okay? You'll stink it up. And I don't want cops poking their nose in.

Besides, don't you know that girls who smoke too much when they're young get irregular periods?»

«Gimme a break,» she cried.

«Now tell me about the guy in the sheepskin,» I said.

«The Sheep Man?»

«How do you know that was his name?»

«You said it over the phone. The Sheep Man.»

«Did I?»

«Uh-huh.»

We were stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. Traffic, as we neared Tsujido, had picked up, and the light had to change twice before we could move on.

«So about the Sheep Man. Where did you see him?»

Yuki shrugged. «I never saw him. He just came into my head, when I saw you,» she said, winding a strand of her fine straight hair around her finger. «I just had this feeling. About a guy dressed in a sheepskin. Like a hunch. Whenever I ran into you at the hotel, I had this . . . feeling. So I brought it up. That was it.»

I tried to make sense of that. I had to think, had to wrack my brains.

«What do you mean by like a hunch?» I pressed her. «You mean you didn't really see him? Or you only caught a glimpse of him?»

«I don't know how to put it,» she said. «It wasn't like I saw him with my own eyes. It was more this feeling that someone had seen him, even though he was invisible. I couldn't see anything, but inside, the feeling I had had a kind of shape. Not a definite shape. Something like a shape. If I had to show it to someone, they probably wouldn't know what it was. It could only make sense to me. I'm not explaining this very well. Am I coming through at all?»

«Vaguely.»

Yuki raised her eyebrows and nibbled at the frame of my sunglasses.

«Let me go over this again,» I tried. «You sensed some­thing in me, some kind of feeling, or ideation—»

«Ideation?»

«A very strong thought. And it was attached to me and you visualized it, like you do in a dream. You mean some­thing like that?»

«Yeah, something kind of like that. A strong thought, but not only that. There was some thing behind it. Something powerful. Like energy that was creating the thinking. I could just feel that it was out there. They were like vibes that I could see. But not like a dream. Like an empty dream. That's it, an empty dream. Nobody's there, so you don't see any­body. You know, like when you turn the contrast on the TV real low and the brightness way up. You can't see a thing. But there's an image in the picture, and if you squint real hard, you can feel what the image is. You know what I mean?»

«Uh-huh.»

«Anyway, I could sort of see this man in a sheepskin. He didn't seem evil or anything like that. Maybe he wasn't even a man. But the thing is, he wasn't bad. I don't know how to put it. You can't see it, but it's like a heat rubbing, you know it's something, like a form without a shape.» She clicked her tongue. «Sorry, awful explanation.»

«You're explaining just fine.»

«Really?»

«Really,» I said.

We continued our drive along the sea. Beside a pine grove, I pulled the car over and suggested we go for a short walk. The afternoon was pleasant, hardly any wind, the surf gentle. Just a rippling sheet of tiny waves drawing in toward shore. Perfect peaceful periodicity. The surfers had all given up and were sitting around on the