Somersault (65 page)

Read Somersault Online

Authors: Kenzaburo Oe

“Let’s walk along the path through the fields to a place where you can see the entire valley. That’s Isamu’s grandfather by the way, the boy in the Fireflies.”

Below where the path petered out was a neat little chestnut-tree orchard, and looking down through the soft green leaves they could see the modest line of buildings in the jug-shaped hollow along the river. The road leading up from the eastern edge that ran along the river valley was cut off from view by a small pass rising up like a bump, cutting off the view of the Hollow beyond. The cross-Shikoku highway bypass, too, was hidden in the shadow of a mixed cedar and cypress forest jutting out from the edge of the chestnut grove.

“It was called Jug Village for a long time, apparently,” Kizu said, “and looking down at it from here it’s easy to understand the legend that grew up that for hundreds of years the village was shut away inside a jug.”

“I’m sure the topography
does
account for many legends,” Dr. Koga responded. “But if you drive twenty minutes over to the Old Town district they’re opening up a Denny’s Restaurant, so it’s not hard to understand why the Young Fireflies march through forests at dawn, trying to shore up their collective illusion.”

Dr. Koga laid a plastic sheet over each of two black natural boundary-marker stones. As they sat down side by side, facing the valley, Kizu had the feeling that he was about to hear something more detailed than any of their earlier brief conversations. And indeed that’s how it turned out.

“While we traveled here by train I confessed a lot of personal things to you, Professor,” Dr. Koga began, “and I’d like to take up where I left off. I can understand why Guide had such drawing power over the researchers at the Izu workshop, but why did Patron? For one simple reason: We quite naturally believed that when he went over to the
other side
he communicated directly with God. Listening to Patron’s sermons after his trances, one couldn’t help but believe—the kind of belief that brings on a deep feeling of contentment. In his trances Patron and God had a genuine rapport. After returning
from the
other side
, Guide’s painful efforts would allow the vision Patron experienced to be transmitted in words we could understand. And this whole vision was powerfully
real
.

“The radical faction’s action program was created as an extension of that reality. Especially as events sped up, as we began to swing into action, as we listened to secret reports coming in from the sites on our strategy list, we felt that
we
were a part of Patron’s trance. And then—out of the blue—the Somersault came crashing down on us.

“Now we wondered what the Somersault was all about. Along with Guide, Patron led us, his advance guard, urging us to hurry and make his message from God come true. Is that what the Somersault was—the two of them standing at the head of the troops but losing their nerve at the last minute? We wondered what God would say to the apostate Patron the next time he had one of his trances: a frightful thing, if it actually took place. But an even more frightening thing happened: For ten years Patron was out of touch with God. I find the term somewhat vague myself, though the Quiet Women evaluate it quite highly, but I think this is what they mean when they say that Patron
fell into hell
. From the beginning, Guide’s torture and death came about because of reports that Patron was starting a new religious movement. They drove us into a terrible predicament and left us there, with just the two of them starting something new.

“On the other hand, we thought that if only there was a convincing explanation—in other words, if Patron was able once more to have a vision and reveal what he’d seen—we could have taken the lead in the new movement. So the ones doing the interrogating asked Guide: what Patron’s latest vision was. But Guide didn’t answer. We thought he was hiding something, but now that I look back on it I realize there was nothing he could say. Why did Guide remain silent? I believe it’s because of this: He couldn’t bring himself to tell these former radical followers that Patron had been abandoned by God. Guide had an admirable reticence in him, when you come right down to it.”

2
Kizu felt led to take their talk a step further.

“I’ve been talking about it in vague terms, and you might have guessed already—and people might think me crazy at my age—but my desire to spend my remaining days with a certain young man is why I’m here. Honestly speaking, I don’t think I’m qualified to hear anything very substantial.

“My remaining days—a pretty accurate way of putting it, as you know, Dr. Koga, since I could be struck down by the cancer at any time. Cancer’s calling the shots, in other words. You don’t seem to think all that highly of Patron’s using his spiritual power to effect a cure, but I’m not entirely dismissing it. Not that I’m clinging to it, either, as my last hope.

“Living together with Ikuo, seeing my neither-here-nor-there life as a painter to its conclusion with him, I’m doing what you suggested and starting to paint again. Painting as the Fireflies would have it, Yonah—Ikuo, this real young man, as the biblical Jonah, as the final creative work of my life. I don’t have any particular dissatisfactions about life in the Hollow and my painting, but what about Ikuo? I do know he’s got some plan he wants to carry out through Patron’s new church, but what it is I haven’t the foggiest. He’s not the type of person to live a quiet life of faith, though, that’s for sure. Be that as it may, I’m prepared to help him with whatever plans he has, but I don’t have the courage to grill him about them. Or, more accurately, I don’t
feel
like doing it. So, awaiting new developments from his end, I spend my days painting my final work.

“Seeing how much energy Ikuo is putting into his work every day, I realize that he’s waiting, too, for Patron’s activities to take shape. That’s quite clear. On the surface, he’s creating an economic base for the first wave of followers who moved here and for later waves to follow. Ikuo consults closely with Dancer and Ogi as he plans out his work, he’s got the Technicians using their technical skills in starting up production again at the farm, and he’s guiding Gii’s Fireflies in a way that maintains the boys’ independence. All well and good. Ikuo’s an unexpectedly able person, and so far he’s had good results. But is that enough for him? I don’t think so. Since he was a young boy, he hasn’t been able to live a normal life. He’s become exactly what the Fireflies, with their children’s intuition, call him: Yonah. And he’s leaving the basic issues up to Patron, hoping through him to arrive at a clear-cut solution.

“In that respect I think he’s a lot like you, Dr. Koga, and the Technicians. Why was Ikuo like that as a child, and what sort of hope does he entrust now to his relationship with Patron? I haven’t questioned him past a certain point, but especially seeing him after we moved here I can understand that. I feel like I was listening to what you said in Ikuo’s stead.”

Dr. Koga paid rapt attention to Kizu’s words. It had been a long time since Kizu had been able to talk so forthrightly with an intelligent person his own age, Japanese or foreign.

Kizu wasn’t the only one who felt this way, for even after he stopped speaking Dr. Koga didn’t respond; instead, he gazed at the far-off scenery. Kizu looked in the same direction.

The high sky was still white, tinged with gray, but the quick-moving low clouds had disappeared. In the unimpeded view that stretched out before them, beyond the mountain range that surrounded this land, lustrous light-purple trees continued off to the horizon.

Kizu considered the people long ago who’d followed one forest glen after another to arrive, and then live in, this dead-end valley. And their descendants. And those who trooped off in the opposite direction to find work in the Kansai area, in Tokyo, or in Yokohama, and how they might still be in the grip of vague ideas about their connection with the founding fathers of this forest village. The Fireflies made a pact that even if they went off to the cities they would still view this valley as their base and would someday return to it—a childish pledge, perhaps, but weren’t they supplementing, albeit many years later, the notions that brought settlers pushing their way into this land in the first place?

“When I see the faces of the Technicians, I think the same thing you think about Ikuo, Professor,” Dr. Koga said finally. “When they were given the chance in Izu to do their own research they basically followed a proper path, but once they started to get soaked in Patron’s aura, they all began to view their research in a different perspective. Eventually things turned completely around, and they threw themselves into situating the church as a force to be reckoned with, one that could actually change society.

“Just at this point they were abandoned by Patron and Guide. Ten years pass and here they are, once again gathered around Patron. Which makes me wonder: Does Patron really have a new plan that will fit all they’ve accumulated over this painful decade? I don’t have any desire to ask him whether he has any plans for action, plans that will surface in the near future to fit what the Technicians are doing. Some people might call me—to use an old union term—a corrupt trade boss for thinking this, but I think we should just let him be himself.

“The Quiet Women seem fully content just to be living in the same place as Patron and to spend their days near him in prayer. One time Morio had swollen tonsils and came to the clinic, and Ms. Tachibana told me about the way the Quiet Women pray in their rooms. It’s extremely intense, apparently. The Technicians also have a quiet time of reflection after each day’s work that’s so intense it’s guaranteed to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Both groups have moved here and settled in, and we need them both to support the activities of the church. Dancer thinks this, too—of course, all under the leadership of Patron.”

“This contradicts what I said before,” Kizu said, “but the Technicians and the Quiet Women are clearly different types of groups, and it’ll surely be a test of Patron’s leadership skills to get them to cooperate.”

“I can imagine a scenario,” Dr. Koga said, “where things turn hostile, with both groups surrounding Patron insisting that they be allowed to show what they’re capable of.”

“I don’t think it’s just the Quiet Women and the Technicians who’d do that,” Kizu said. “You’d have to include Ikuo and those under Patron’s direct supervision—Ogi and Dancer—as well. And let’s not forget the Kansai headquarters, which is lying low at the moment. I wonder if Patron isn’t waiting for the energy of all these people to get compressed and then he’s going to leap into action all at once. If Guide were here I’m sure that’s what he’d do.”

Kizu and Dr. Koga looked intently at each other. Kizu felt all over again the closeness he’d begun to feel toward this other man. Dr. Koga was visibly exhausted but, with his characteristic magnanimity, was trying to follow his colleagues in their new activities. Wasn’t this exactly what Kizu was trying to do with Ikuo? As was his habit after many years in America, Kizu spoke aloud what he’d already convinced himself of, to make sure of his thoughts.

“Dr. Koga, you consider the Technicians kindred spirits, but at the same time you feel apart from them enough to keep an eye on them. You want to participate with them yet keep your distance.”

“That’s correct,” Dr. Koga replied, his eyes at once both slightly worried and filled with a sharp intelligence. “When you said you were moving to Shikoku despite your cancer, I can tell you I was envious. This is a person, I thought, who is truly free.

“I’ve trained with the Technicians, and as long as I can I want to help them out. The thought occurred to me that it wouldn’t be so bad to end my days as a small-town doctor here in this valley, but if Patron and the Technicians get in a confrontation, I imagine I’d leave here with them.

“When I think about the future, I have the distinct feeling that someday soon I’m going to be in a difficult fix because of the Technicians: lamenting that we should just
get on with it
and ending up in some desperate struggle. Still—like you and Ikuo—the fact is, I accompanied them here. Maybe I invited you out today because of this simple yet subtle feeling of empathy? I don’t know.”

“I’m not saying this to you as patient-to-doctor,” Kizu said, “but my intuition tells me I have a lot of time left to be with you before cancer makes me withdraw from the front lines.”

Dr. Koga gave him a happy, sympathetic smile, but, veteran physician that he was, he wasn’t about to give any hasty words of encouragement. He urged Kizu to stand up, and when they both did he briskly folded up the plastic sheets they’d been sitting on, stuffed them in his pocket, and made a new suggestion.

“Why don’t we drive upstream a little? You came into this region by going up the Kame River from the Old Town area, right? If you go upstream a bit more you’ll feel you’re in the middle of the main mountain range in Shikoku. It’s quite interesting from a geopolitical standpoint because it’s the crossroads leading to Kochi on the one hand and Matsuyama on the other.

“In medieval days the Tosa armies advanced up to that point. Asa-san told me when she was little and didn’t obey her parents they’d scare her by saying, ‘General Chosokabe’s coming to get you!”

Dr. Koga wasn’t just knowledgeable about local history, he was well acquainted with the local topography too, and he took them down a different road through the woods, one that brought them down to the prefectural road that ran along the river. Kizu was sure the road was a dead end shut off by the mountains, but after passing several hamlets that dotted the roadside they came out onto the road along the valley that ascended to the northeast. The tree branches overhanging the road, with their green leaves freshened by a recent rain, had an animalistic power, and it struck Kizu that he really was living in deep mountain recesses.

The crossroads leading to the two local cities Dr. Koga had spoken of was a broad basin, the field there much more extensive than in anything in Maki Town, let alone Kame Village before it was incorporated. Dr. Koga avoided the road leading to the hollow where there were rows of old tradesmen’s houses, and did a
U
-turn at one corner of the road the bus ran along. Dr. Koga hadn’t said a word nearly the whole hour they’d been driving, but as they arrived at the road that went back home he finally spoke.

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