Read Online The Isle of South Kamui and Other Stories by Kyotaro Nishimura - Free Book Online Page B

from her white breast, my entire body was pierced by an intense joy. Even after I awoke, the lingering effects of the ecstasy persisted. And I realized that the lower half of my body was wet from having ejaculated. Normally I would have jumped out of bed in confusion, but this morning I stayed with my eyes fixed on the glow of morning sunlight on the ceiling, ruminating on the dream like a cow chewing the cud.
    Why had I had a dream like that? I tried to recall passages I had read on Freud’s interpretation of dreams. But my memory was hazy, and I was not confident I would be able to come up with a good explanation. All I knew was that in the real world I would never shoot her. There was no way I’d be able to shoot her with the rifle. Even if she were to say that she was going to marry that novelist, for example, if I was going to shoot anyone it would be him.
    So why had I shot her in my dream? And why had I felt such an intense joy? Could it be that I harbored a secret desire to rape her? Flustered, I sat up in bed. Suddenly I felt revolted by the dampness in my groin. I grabbed a towel to dry myself and then pulled on my swimming trunks and rushed down to the sea. I wanted to punish my body.
    I had thought that nobody was on the beach, but he was standing there looking scruffy in singlet and long underpants.
    â€œHey, good morning,” he said with a convivial smile. “Are you off for a swim at this ungodly hour?”
    â€œIs there any reason why I shouldn’t?” I retorted sharply.
    â€œOh,” he said foolishly, in an odd voice. “We are in a bad mood, aren’t we? But then, you seem to dislike me.”
    â€œI don’t like people who write novels.”
    â€œI see. So it must have been you then, I suppose.”
    â€œWhat was?”
    â€œWho threw my book in the sea. I found it washed up over there a while ago. I’m not going to get upset about it. From an author’s point of view, it’s an honor to have something you’ve written thrown into the sea or set fire to or whatever.”
    â€œYou think so?”
    â€œBy the way, I’d like to give you a bit of advice. Will you listen?”
    â€œNope.” I shook my head vigorously, and walked off to the water’s edge. Advice? What sort of advice was he going to give me? Like, don’t go waving that rifle around? Like, study harder for university entrance exams instead of spending all your time swimming? He was probably feeling all fatherly. Asshole.
    I took a run up and dived headfirst into the sea. The water felt colder than it had yesterday morning, but it felt good.
    â€œHey!” he yelled at the top of his voice. “Don’t swim out too far!”
    In defiance of his order, I carried on swimming directly out to sea. I was young. I wasn’t old like him. I could easily manage a ten-kilometer swim there and back. When I had almost reached the tip of the headland, I took a deep breath and dived down under water. The sea, which at the height of summer had become dirty and had lost its vitality, was now returning to its original blue. A clear blue world enveloped my body. All sounds were muted. My hands fluttered silent and pale before my eyes. It was delightful. I dived down even deeper. But I had been lulled by the pleasantness, and had carelessly forgotten that the sea was still capable of ruthlessness. All at once a current of colder water took hold of my arms and legs. There was a ringing in my ears as my limbs stiffened and stopped moving. I lost my cool. As soon as I floated up to the surface, I shouted loudly for help in the direction of the shore.
    He was on the beach looking in my direction. Choking and swallowing water, I called out again and again to him, “Help me!”
    He must have heard me shouting. He took two or three steps, but then stopped. Then, to my astonishment, he turned his back. He was going to let me drown! He—
    I felt myself drawn into a deep