1Q84 (155 page)

“Did he remember me?”

“He remembered you well. He seems to have been searching all over for you.”

It was just as Leader said. Tengo is looking for me. That’s all I need to know
. Aomame’s heart was filled with an indescribable joy. No other words in this world had any meaning for her.

“He will be bringing something important with him then, as you asked. I’m guessing that this will include the novel he’s writing.”

“I’m sure of it,” Aomame said.

“I checked around that humble building he lives in. All looks clear to me. No suspicious characters hanging around. Bobblehead’s apartment is deserted. Everything’s quiet, but not too quiet. Those guys took care of the article during the night and left. They probably thought it wouldn’t be good to stay too long. I made sure of this, so I don’t think I overlooked anything.”

“Good.”

“
Probably
, though, is the operative word here,
at least for now
. The situation is changing by the moment. And obviously I’m not perfect. I might be overlooking something important. It is possible that those guys might turn out to be one notch ahead of me.”

“Which is why it all comes down to me needing to protect myself.”

“As I said.”

“Thank you for everything. I’m very grateful to you.”

“I don’t know what you plan to do from now on,” Tamaru said, “but if you do go somewhere far away, and I never see you again, I know I’ll feel a little sad. You’re a rare sort of character, a type I’ve seldom come across before.”

Aomame smiled into the phone. “That’s pretty much the impression I wanted to leave you with.”

“Madame needs you. Not for the work you do, but on a personal level, as a companion. So I know she feels quite sad that she has to say good-bye like this. She can’t come to the phone now. I hope you’ll understand.”

“I do,” Aomame said. “I might have trouble, too, if I had to talk with her.”

“You said you’re going far away,” Tamaru said. “How far away are we talking about?”

“It’s a distance that can’t be measured.”

“Like the distance that separates one person’s heart from another’s.”

Aomame closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was on the verge of tears, but was able to hold it together.

“I’m praying that everything will go well,” Tamaru said quietly.

“I’m sorry, but I may have to hold on to the Heckler & Koch,” Aomame said.

“That’s fine. It’s my gift to you. If it gets troublesome to have, just toss it into Tokyo Bay. The world will take one small step closer to disarmament.”

“I might end up never firing the pistol. Contrary to Chekhov’s principle.”

“That’s fine, too,” Tamaru said. “Nothing could be better than not firing it. We’re drawing close to the end of the twentieth century. Things are different from back in Chekhov’s time. No more horse-drawn carriages, no more women in corsets. Somehow the world survived the Nazis, the atomic bomb, and modern music. Even the way novels are composed has changed drastically. So it’s nothing to worry about. But I do have a question. You and Tengo are going to meet on the slide tonight at seven.”

“If things work out,” Aomame said.

“If you do see him, what are you going to do there?”

“We’re going to look at the moon.”

“Very romantic,” Tamaru said, gently.

On Wednesday morning when the phone rang, Tengo was still asleep. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep until nearly dawn, and the whiskey he had drunk still remained in him. He got out of bed, and was surprised to see how light it was outside.

“Tengo Kawana?” a man said. It was a voice he had never heard before.

“Yes,” Tengo replied. The man’s voice was quiet and businesslike, and he was sure it must be more paperwork regarding his father’s death. But his alarm clock showed it was just before eight a.m. Not the time that a city office or funeral home would be calling.

“I am sorry to be calling so early, but I was rather in a hurry.”

Something urgent. “What is it?” Tengo’s brain was still fuzzy.

“Do you recall the name Aomame?” the man asked.

Aomame? His hangover and sleepiness vanished. His mind reset quickly, like after a short blackout in a stage play. Tengo regripped the receiver.

“Yes, I do,” he replied.

“It’s quite an unusual name.”

“We were in the same class in elementary school,” Tengo said, somehow able to get his voice back to normal.

The man paused. “Mr. Kawana, do you have interest at this moment in talking about Aomame?”

Tengo found the man’s way of speaking odd. His diction was unique, like listening to lines from an avant-garde translated play.

“If you do not have any interest, then it will be a waste of time for both of us. I’ll end this conversation right away.”

“I am interested,” Tengo said hurriedly. “Sorry, but what is your connection here?”

“I have a message from her,” the man said, ignoring his question. “Aomame is hoping to see you. What about you, Mr. Kawana? Would you care to see her as well?”

“I would,” Tengo said. He coughed and cleared his throat. “I have been wanting to see her for a long time.”

“Fine. She wants to see you. And you are hoping to see her.”

Tengo suddenly realized how cold the room was. He grabbed a nearby cardigan and threw it over his pajamas.

“So what should I do?” Tengo asked.

“Can you come to the slide after dark?” the man said.

“The slide?” Tengo asked. What was this guy talking about?

“She said if I told you that, you would understand. She would like you to come to the top of the slide. I’m merely telling you what Aomame said.”

Tengo’s hand went to his hair, which was a mass of cowlicks and knots after sleeping.
The slide. Where I saw the two moons. It’s got to be
that
slide
.

“I think I understand,” he replied, his voice dry.

“Fine. Also, if there is something valuable you would like to take with you, make sure you have it on you. So you’re all set to move on, far away.”

“
Something valuable I would like to take with me?
” Tengo repeated in surprise.

“Something you don’t want to leave behind.”

Tengo pondered this. “I’m not sure I totally understand, but by moving on far away, do you mean never coming back here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” the man said. “As I said previously, I am merely transmitting her message.”

Tengo ran his fingers through his tangled hair and considered this.
Move on?
“I might have a fair amount of papers I would want to bring.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” the man said. “You are free to choose whatever you like. However, when it comes to luggage, I have been asked to tell you that you should be able to keep both hands free.”

“Keep both hands free,” Tengo repeated. “So, a suitcase wouldn’t work, would it?”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

From the man’s voice it was hard to guess his age, looks, or build. It was the sort of voice that provided no tangible clues. Tengo felt he wouldn’t remember the voice at all, as soon as the man hung up. Individuality or emotions—assuming there were any to begin with—were hidden deep down, out of sight.

“That’s all that I need to relay,” the man said.

“Is Aomame well?” Tengo asked.

“Physically, she’s fine,” the man said, choosing his words carefully. “Though right now she’s caught in a somewhat tense situation. She has to watch her every move. One false step and it might all be over.”

“All be over,”
Tengo repeated mechanically.

“It would be best not to be too late,” the man said. “Time has become an important factor.”

Time has become an important factor
, Tengo repeated to himself.
Was there an issue with this man’s choice of words? Or am I too much on edge?

“I think I can be at the slide at seven tonight,” Tengo said. “If for some reason I’m not able to come tonight, I’ll be there tomorrow at the same time.”

“Understood. And you know which slide we’re talking about.”

“I think so.”

Tengo glanced at the clock. He had eleven hours to go.

“By the way, I heard that your father passed away on Sunday. My deepest condolences.”

Tengo instinctively thanked him, but then wondered how this man could possibly know about his father.

“Could you tell me a little more about Aomame?” Tengo said. “For instance, where she is, and what she does?”

“She’s single. She works as a fitness instructor at a sports club in Hiroo. She’s a first-rate instructor, but circumstances have changed and she has taken leave from her job. And, by sheer coincidence, she has been living not far from you. For anything beyond that, I think it best you hear directly from her.”

“Even what sort of
tense situation
she’s in right now?”

The man didn’t respond. Either he didn’t want to answer or he felt there was no need. For whatever reason, people like this seemed to flock to Tengo.

“Today at seven p.m., then, on top of the slide,” the man said.

“Just a second,” Tengo said quickly. “I have a question. I was warned by someone that I was being watched, and that I should be careful. Excuse me for asking, but did they mean you?”

“No, they didn’t mean me,” the man said immediately. “It was probably someone else who was watching you. But it is a good idea to be cautious, as that person pointed out.”

“Does my being under surveillance have something to do with Aomame’s unusual situation?”

“
Somewhat tense
situation,” the man said, correcting him. “Yes, most likely there is some sort of connection.”

“Is this dangerous?”

The man paused, and chose his words carefully, as if separating out varieties of beans from a pile. “If you call not being able to see Aomame anymore something dangerous, then yes, there is definitely danger involved.”

Tengo mentally rearranged this man’s roundabout phrasing into something he could understand. He didn’t have a clue about the background or the circumstances, but it was obvious that things were indeed fraught.

“If things don’t go well, we might not be able to see each other ever again.”

“Exactly.”

“I understand. I’ll be careful,” Tengo said.

“I’m sorry to have called so early. It would appear that I woke you up.”

Without pausing, the man hung up. Tengo gazed at the black receiver in his hand. As he had predicted, as soon as they hung up, the man’s voice had vanished from his memory. Tengo looked at the clock again. Eight ten.
How should I kill all this time between now and seven p.m.?
he wondered.

He started by taking a shower, washing his hair, and untangling it as best he could. Then he stood in front of the mirror and shaved, brushed his teeth, and flossed. He drank some tomato juice from the fridge, boiled water, ground coffee beans and made coffee, toasted a slice of bread. He set the timer and cooked a soft-boiled egg. He concentrated on each action, taking more time than usual. But still it was only nine thirty.

Tonight I will see Aomame on top of the slide
.

The thought sent his senses spinning. His hands and legs and face all wanted to go in different directions, and he couldn’t gather his emotions in one place. Whatever he tried to do, his concentration was shot. He couldn’t read, couldn’t write. He couldn’t sit still in one place. The only thing he seemed capable of was washing the dishes, doing the laundry, straightening up his drawers, making his bed. Every five minutes he would stop whatever he was doing and glance at the clock. Thinking about time only seemed to slow it down.

Aomame knows
.

He was standing at the sink, sharpening a cleaver that really didn’t need to be sharpened.
She knows I’ve been to the slide in that playground a number of times. She must have seen me, sitting there, staring up at the sky. Otherwise it makes no sense
. He pictured what he looked like on top of the slide, lit up by the mercury-vapor lamp. He had had no sense of being observed. Where had she been watching him from?

It doesn’t matter
, Tengo thought.
No big deal. No matter where she saw me from, she recognized me
. The thought filled him with joy.
Just as I’ve been thinking of her, she’s been thinking of me
. Tengo could hardly believe it—that in this frantic, labyrinth-like world, two people’s hearts—a boy’s and a girl’s—could be connected, unchanged, even though they hadn’t seen each other for twenty years.

But why didn’t Aomame call out to me then, when she saw me? Things would be so much simpler if she had. And how did she know where I live? How did she—or that man—find out my phone number?
He didn’t like to get calls, and had an unlisted number. You couldn’t get it even if you called the operator.

There was a lot that remained unknown and mysterious, and the lines that constructed this story were complicated. Which lines connected to which others, and what sort of cause-and-effect relationship existed, was beyond him. Still, ever since Fuka-Eri showed up in his life, he felt he had been living in a place where questions outnumbered answers. But he had a faint sense that this chaos was, ever so slowly, heading toward a denouement.

At seven this evening, though, at least some questions will be cleared up
, Tengo thought.
We’ll meet on top of the slide. Not as a helpless ten-year-old boy and girl, but as an independent, grown-up man and woman. As a math teacher in a cram school and a sports club instructor. What will we talk about then? I have no idea. But we will talk—we need to fill in the blanks between us, exchange information about each other. And—to borrow the phrasing of the man who called—we might then
move on somewhere.
So I need to make sure to bring what’s important to me, what I don’t want to leave behind—and pack it away so that I can have both hands free
.