Read Online Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami - Free Book Online
Authors: Haruki Murakami
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the clerks seem suspicious.
Nobody yells out, Hey, we can see right through your ruse, you little fifteen-year-old runaway! Everything goes smooth as silk, business as usual.
The elevator clanks ominously to the sixth floor. The room is minuscule, outfitted with an uninviting bed, a rock-hard pillow, a miniature excuse for a desk, a tiny TV, sun-bleached curtains. The bathroom is barely the size of a closet, with none of those little complimentary shampoo or conditioner bottles. The view out the window is of the wall of the building next door. I shouldn't complain, though, since I have a roof over my head and hot water coming out of the tap. I plunk my backpack on the floor, sit down on the chair, and try to acclimatize myself to the surroundings.
I'm free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can't really understand what it means. All I know is I'm totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who's lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don't know, and I give up thinking about it.
I take a long, hot bath and carefully brush my teeth in front of the sink. I flop down in bed and read, and when I get tired of that I watch the news on TV. Compared to everything I've gone through that day, though, the news seems stale and boring. I switch off the TV and get under the covers. It's ten p. m., but I can't get to sleep. A new day in a brand-new place. And my fifteenth birthday, besides—most of which I spent in that charming, offbeat library. I met a few new people. Sakura. Oshima. Miss Saeki. Nobody threatening, thank God. A good omen?
I think about my home back in Nogata, in Tokyo, and my father. How did he feel when he found I'd suddenly disappeared? Relieved, maybe? Confused? Or maybe nothing at all. I'm betting he hasn't even noticed I'm gone.
I suddenly remember my father's cell phone and take it out of my backpack. I switch it on and dial my home number. It starts ringing, 450 miles away, as clearly as if I were calling the room next door. Startled by this, I hang up after two rings. My heart won't stop pounding. The phone still works, which means my father hasn't canceled the contract. Maybe he hasn't noticed the phone's missing from his desk. I shove the phone back in the pocket of my backpack, turn off the light, and close my eyes. I don't dream.
Come to think of it, I haven't had any dreams in a long time.
Chapter 6
Hello there," the old man called out.
The large, elderly black tomcat raised its head a fraction and wearily returned the greeting in a low voice.
"A very nice spell of weather we're having."
"Um," the cat said.
"Not a cloud in the sky."
"... for the time being."
"Is the weather going to take a turn for the worse, then?"
"It feels like it'll cloud up toward evening." The black cat slowly stretched out a leg, then narrowed its eyes and gave the old man another good long look.
With a big grin on his face, the man stared right back. The cat hesitated for a time, then plunged ahead and spoke. "Hmm... so you're able to speak."
"That's right," the old man said bashfully. To show his respect, he took off his threadbare cotton hiking hat. "Not that I can speak to every cat I meet, but if things go well I can. Like right now."
"Interesting," the cat said simply.
"Do you mind if I sit down here for a while? Nakata's a little tired from walking."
The black cat languidly rose to its feet, whiskers atwitch, and yawned so tremendously its jaw looked almost unhinged. "I don't mind. Or perhaps I should say it's not up to me. You can sit anywhere you like. Nobody's going to bother you for that."
"Thank you kindly," the man said, lowering himself down beside the cat. "Boy oh boy, I've been walking since six this morning."
"Um... I take it, then, that you're Mr. Nakata?"
"That's right. Nakata's the name. And you would be?"
"I forget my name," the cat said. "I had one, I know I did, but somewhere along the
Nobody yells out, Hey, we can see right through your ruse, you little fifteen-year-old runaway! Everything goes smooth as silk, business as usual.
The elevator clanks ominously to the sixth floor. The room is minuscule, outfitted with an uninviting bed, a rock-hard pillow, a miniature excuse for a desk, a tiny TV, sun-bleached curtains. The bathroom is barely the size of a closet, with none of those little complimentary shampoo or conditioner bottles. The view out the window is of the wall of the building next door. I shouldn't complain, though, since I have a roof over my head and hot water coming out of the tap. I plunk my backpack on the floor, sit down on the chair, and try to acclimatize myself to the surroundings.
I'm free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can't really understand what it means. All I know is I'm totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who's lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don't know, and I give up thinking about it.
I take a long, hot bath and carefully brush my teeth in front of the sink. I flop down in bed and read, and when I get tired of that I watch the news on TV. Compared to everything I've gone through that day, though, the news seems stale and boring. I switch off the TV and get under the covers. It's ten p. m., but I can't get to sleep. A new day in a brand-new place. And my fifteenth birthday, besides—most of which I spent in that charming, offbeat library. I met a few new people. Sakura. Oshima. Miss Saeki. Nobody threatening, thank God. A good omen?
I think about my home back in Nogata, in Tokyo, and my father. How did he feel when he found I'd suddenly disappeared? Relieved, maybe? Confused? Or maybe nothing at all. I'm betting he hasn't even noticed I'm gone.
I suddenly remember my father's cell phone and take it out of my backpack. I switch it on and dial my home number. It starts ringing, 450 miles away, as clearly as if I were calling the room next door. Startled by this, I hang up after two rings. My heart won't stop pounding. The phone still works, which means my father hasn't canceled the contract. Maybe he hasn't noticed the phone's missing from his desk. I shove the phone back in the pocket of my backpack, turn off the light, and close my eyes. I don't dream.
Come to think of it, I haven't had any dreams in a long time.
Chapter 6
Hello there," the old man called out.
The large, elderly black tomcat raised its head a fraction and wearily returned the greeting in a low voice.
"A very nice spell of weather we're having."
"Um," the cat said.
"Not a cloud in the sky."
"... for the time being."
"Is the weather going to take a turn for the worse, then?"
"It feels like it'll cloud up toward evening." The black cat slowly stretched out a leg, then narrowed its eyes and gave the old man another good long look.
With a big grin on his face, the man stared right back. The cat hesitated for a time, then plunged ahead and spoke. "Hmm... so you're able to speak."
"That's right," the old man said bashfully. To show his respect, he took off his threadbare cotton hiking hat. "Not that I can speak to every cat I meet, but if things go well I can. Like right now."
"Interesting," the cat said simply.
"Do you mind if I sit down here for a while? Nakata's a little tired from walking."
The black cat languidly rose to its feet, whiskers atwitch, and yawned so tremendously its jaw looked almost unhinged. "I don't mind. Or perhaps I should say it's not up to me. You can sit anywhere you like. Nobody's going to bother you for that."
"Thank you kindly," the man said, lowering himself down beside the cat. "Boy oh boy, I've been walking since six this morning."
"Um... I take it, then, that you're Mr. Nakata?"
"That's right. Nakata's the name. And you would be?"
"I forget my name," the cat said. "I had one, I know I did, but somewhere along the
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