Chapter 3 Note 2
Near the line formed by seawater erosion on the coast, more than 20 majestic and thick mountain cherry trees stand side by side.These black-bark mountain cherry trees, together with their rich brown leaves, bloom extraordinarily gorgeous flowers against the blue sea at the beginning of each new school year.Soon, in the season of falling petals, countless petals will fall into the sea one after another, drift on the sea surface, and then be washed back to the coast by the waves.A middle school in the Northeast region built its campus on this sandy beach with cherry trees.Although I didn't study hard to prepare for the exam, I finally got into this middle school smoothly.Whether it is the badge on the school cap of this middle school or the buttons on the school uniform, they are all decorated with blooming cherry blossom patterns.
A distant relative of my family lives near that middle school.It is precisely because of this that my father chose for me the middle school facing the sea and full of cherry blossoms.I was fostered by my father in that relative's house, because it was very close to the school, so I always rushed to the school after hearing the school bell ringing for the assembly.I am such a lazy middle school student, but I am increasingly popular with my classmates relying on my usual ability to make people laugh.
This is the first time in my life that I have traveled to a foreign country, but in my eyes, a strange foreign country is a more refreshing environment than the hometown where I was born.This may be because I had mastered the art of being funny so well that I seemed more at ease when deceiving others.Of course, it’s not impossible to make such an explanation, but the more deadly reason lies in another point: facing relatives or facing strangers, whether in the hometown or in a foreign country, there are unavoidable difficulties in acting difference inAnd doesn't this difference in difficulty exist for any genius—even for Jesus, the Son of God?For actors, the most difficult place to perform is the theater in their hometown.In a room where all relatives gather together, no matter how famous an actor is, he might be at his wits end.And yet I've been performing there, with considerable success.So for an old oily man like me, it must be foolproof to come to a foreign country to perform.
My fear of people is worse than before. It is twisting violently deep in my heart, but my acting skills are improving day by day.I often made my classmates laugh out loud in the classroom, and even the teacher had to sigh, "If this class didn't have a big family, what a group it would be," while covering his face with his hands and laughing.I could easily make even the garrison officers who were used to thunderous snaps laugh out loud.
Just when I was about to start secretly thanking myself for completely covering up my true face, I was unexpectedly poked in the back by someone else.The person who poked my back turned out to be the weakest guy in the class with a bruised and swollen face.The clothes on his body looked like junk left to him by his father and brother, and the overgrown sleeves looked like those of Prince Shotoku.His homework is even more messed up. During military training and gymnastics classes, he always looks like an idiot on the sidelines. Even I, who is always cautious, never thought of guarding against him.
One day during gymnastics class, that student (I have long forgotten his surname, but I only remember that his name is Zhuyi), that Zhuyi, was still on the sidelines as a trainee, while we were ordered by the teacher to do horizontal bar exercises.I intentionally made a serious expression as much as possible, let out a yell "Hey -" and jumped towards the horizontal bar, lunging forward like a long jump, but fell on the sand with my ass.This was purely a premeditated failure.Sure enough, it became a primer for everyone to laugh.I also smiled wryly as I got up and brushed the sand off my pants.At this time, Zhu Yi came to my side at some point, poked my back, and muttered in a low voice:
"On purpose, on purpose."
I was shocked for a while, and I never dreamed that Zhuyi would see through the truth of my intentional failure.I seemed to see that the world was engulfed by the fire of hell in an instant, burning blazingly before my eyes.I yelled "Wow", exerting all my strength to restrain my almost crazy mood.
Since then, I have lived in anxiety and fear every day.
Although I still played the pathetic antics on the surface to make everyone laugh, sometimes I couldn't help letting out a heavy sigh.No matter what I do, the truth will definitely be seen through by that Zhuyi, and he will reveal this secret to everyone very soon—when I think of this, beads of sweat will form on my forehead, like a madman He looked around with strange eyes.If possible, I would even wish to follow and monitor Zhuyi 24 hours a day from morning to night, lest he reveal the secret casually.And while I was pestering him, it took all my brains and effort to convince him that my antics weren't so-called "deliberate" but the real thing.I've even made up my mind that, if all goes well, I'll be his one and only confidant.If all this is impossible, then I can only hope for his death.But I couldn't think of killing him anyway.In my career so far, I have prayed countless times to be killed, but I have never thought of killing others.This is because I feel that doing so can only bring happiness to a terrible opponent.
In order to tame him, I first put a hypochristian-like "goodwill" smile on my face, tilted my head to the left about thirty degrees, gently hugged his thin shoulders, and whispered With a nasty tone, I invited him over and over again to play at the relatives' house where I was staying, but he always looked blankly and kept silent.However, one evening after school (I remember it was in early summer), there was a sudden heavy rain in the sky, and the students were all struggling with how to go home.Because my relative's house is very close to the school, I was about to rush out fearlessly when I saw Takeichi.He was standing dejectedly behind the clog box at the door. "Let's go, I'll lend you the umbrella." I said, grabbing the timid Takeichi's hand, and we ran together in the torrential rain.When I got home, I asked my aunt to dry the wet clothes for both of us. During this time, I took Zhuyi to my room on the second floor.
My relative’s family is a family of three. There is an aunt who is over 50 years old, and a tall cousin who is about 30 years old and wears glasses. also imitate the rest of the family, calling her "A sister"), and a cousin who recently graduated from a girls' school named Xuezi.She is very different from her sister, she is small and has a round face.In the shop downstairs, only a small amount of stationery and sporting goods are displayed.The main source of income seemed to be rent from the five or six row houses left by the deceased owner.
"My ears hurt." Zhu Yi just kept standing and talking.
"Maybe it's the rain pouring into the ear that hurts."
When I looked, I saw that both of his ears suffered from severe otorrhea, and the thick water was about to flow out of the ears.
"How can this work? Does it hurt?" I exaggeratedly showed a look of surprise, "I dragged you out of the heavy rain and made you end up like this. I'm so sorry."
I apologized to him in a "gentle" tone that was close to a woman's, then went downstairs to get cotton and alcohol, put Zhuyi's head on my knee, and cleaned his ears thoughtfully.Even Takeichi didn't seem to realize that this was a hypocritical trick.
"You, you will definitely be infatuated by women!" Zhu put his head on my knee and said a stupid flattery.
It was many years later that I realized that his words were like a prophecy of a demon, and Zhu Yi didn't even realize how terrifying it was.The words "obsessed" and "obsessed" are vulgar and teasing terms, giving people a feeling of posturing.No matter how "serious" the occasion is, as long as these words are exposed, the melancholy Jialan will fall apart in an instant and become dull.But using literary terms like "the uneasiness of being loved" instead of colloquial phrases like "the trouble of being infatuated" doesn't seem to spoil the gala of melancholy.It's amazing to think about it.
When I wiped the pus and blood in Zhu Yi's ears, he said, "You, you will definitely be infatuated with by women!" At that time, after hearing that, I just smiled with a flushed face and said nothing. There was no answer, but in fact, I also privately thought that what he said was not unreasonable.However, regarding the pretentious atmosphere created by such a vulgar expression as "being obsessed", I actually said that what he said was not unreasonable, it was tantamount to expressing my feelings stupidly, and his degree of confusion far exceeded that of the silly young master in cross talk , in fact, I would never "think his words are not unreasonable" in that joking and posturing mood,
In my opinion, women in this world are many times more incomprehensible than men.In our family, the number of women is many times that of men, and the majority of relatives are girls.And those "criminal" maids mentioned earlier.I think it could even be said that I grew up surrounded by women.Despite this, I have always dealt with women with the mood of walking on eggshells.I don't know anything about them, I'm in a cloud, and I fail miserably from time to time.This failure is quite different from the whipping one receives from men, as unpleasant as internal bleeding, poisonous and incurable.
A woman sometimes sticks with you, and sometimes leaves you alone.In front of everyone, she despises me and humiliates me, and once behind everyone's back, she desperately hugs me tightly.Women's sleep is so sweet that they seem to be dead, and one even wonders whether they live in this world just to sleep soundly.I have made various observations about women since I was a child. Although they are human beings, women are distinctly different creatures from men.And it was this unreasonable, vigilant creature that took care of me unexpectedly.Neither the term "fetishized" nor the term "loved" fit me at all, and perhaps the term "loved" is closer to my situation.
Women seem to be more comfortable than men when it comes to funny jokes.Men never laugh when I play funny characters for a laugh.And I also know that if you get carried away when you are funny in front of men, you will definitely fail, so I always try to stop the performance when it is just right.But women don't know what "enough is enough" at all, and they always pester me endlessly to make me continue to be funny.I'm exhausted trying to satisfy their unbridled demands, and they can actually laugh.Women seem to be able to devour pleasure more voraciously than men.
In the house of relatives I boarded in middle school, once my cousins were free, they always came to my room on the second floor, and every time I jumped up in fright.
"Are you working hard?"
"No, no," I said, smiling timidly, closing the book, "today, there was a geography teacher at school named Stick, who..."
All that came out of my mouth were insincere jokes.
"Aye, put on your glasses and show us!"
One night, my cousin Xuezi came to my room to play with my cousin.After I was forced to do a lot of funny, they coldly asked to wear glasses to show them.
"What for?"
"Don't worry about it, just put it on and have a look. Borrow Sister's glasses and put them on!"
Usually she always speaks to me in this rough command tone.So, my funny clown honestly put on my cousin's glasses.In an instant, the two girls were laughing forward and backward.
"Exactly the same! Exactly the same as Lloyd!"
At that time, Harold Lloyd was all the rage in Japan as a foreign comedian.
I stood up, held up a hand and said:
"Everyone, this time I would like to express my gratitude to Japanese movie fans..."
I tried to imitate Lloyd and give a speech, which made them laugh even more.After that, Lloyd's movies were seen at every show in this town, privately pondering his expressions and mannerisms.
One autumn night, I was lying down reading a book.My cousin flew into my room like a bird, fell down on my quilt and sobbed.
"Aye, you will definitely save me, right. For this kind of family, we should run away together, right? Save me, save me."
She murmured these menacing words, and sobbed all the time.However, this is not the first time I have seen a woman like this, so I am not surprised by my cousin's exaggerated words. On the contrary, I am particularly disappointed by the banality and emptiness of her words.So, I quietly got up from the bed, peeled off the persimmons on the table, and handed a piece to my cousin.The cousin was sobbing while eating persimmons.
"Is there any good book? Lend it to me," she said.
I picked a copy of Natsume Soseki for her from the bookshelf.
"Thank you for your hospitality."
The cousin smiled shyly and walked out of the room.In fact, not only my cousin, but all women, what kind of mood are they living with?Thinking about this kind of thing is even more troublesome and more eerie to me than trying to figure out what an earthworm thinks.But the only thing is that I have to rely on my childhood experience to understand: when a woman cries like that, as long as you hand her something delicious, she will eat it and change her mood because of it.
Cousin Yukiko would sometimes bring her friends into my room.As usual, I made everyone laugh fairly.After the friend leaves, Xuezi will definitely criticize her friend.Something like "She's a bad girl, you have to be careful" or something like that.If that's the case, wouldn't it be unnecessary to bring it here?Thanks to Yukiko, almost all the guests in my room are women.
However, the flattery that Zhu Yi said, "You will definitely be infatuated with by women!" was not fulfilled.In short, I'm nothing more than Harold Lloyd of Tohoku.Zhuyi's stupid flattery, as a hateful prophecy, vividly presented an ominous omen, and it was many years after that.
Takeichi also gave me another great gift.
"This is a picture of a monster."
Once upon a time, when Zhu Yi came to play in my room upstairs, he proudly showed me a primary-color version of the scroll, and said so.
"Huh?!" I was taken aback.It was only after many years that I realized clearly: it was at that moment that my future path was completely determined.I know it's just a self-portrait of Van Gogh.When we were teenagers, the so-called French Impressionist paintings were widely popular, and most of them learned to appreciate Western paintings from Impressionist paintings.Therefore, when it comes to the paintings of Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cézanne, Renoir, etc., even middle school students in poor rural areas have seen the photographic version.I have seen quite a few of Van Gogh's primary-color paintings, and I am interested in his brushwork and bright colors, but I have never thought that his self-portraits are portraits of monsters.
"What about this kind of painting? Does it also look like a monster?"
I took Modigliani's album off the shelf, and showed Zhu a portrait of a nude woman with bronzed skin.
"This is amazing." Zhu Yi exclaimed, widening his glasses.
"Like a hell horse."
"No, it's still like a monster."
"I also want to draw a picture of this monster."
People who are overly afraid of people, on the contrary, want to see more terrifying monsters with their own eyes; the more nervous people who are prone to fear of things, the more they want the storm to come more violently... Ah, this A group of painters were hurt and intimidated by the monster, so that they finally believed in the phantom, and witnessed the monster's presence vividly in the nature of daylight.And, instead of using "funny jokes" to hide their fears, they committed to expressing what they saw intact.As Takeichi puts it, they bravely paint "a self-portrait of a monster."It turned out that my future companions actually existed here, which made me so excited that tears filled my eyes.
"I also want to draw, draw the portrait of that kind of monster, draw that kind of hell horse." I lowered my voice and said to Zhuyi.
I have loved drawing and looking at pictures since elementary school.But my drawings don't get the same compliments as my compositions.Because I have no trust in human language at all, composition is like a funny greeting to me.Although my essays amuse teachers in both primary and secondary schools, I don't find them funny myself.Only painting (manga and so on) makes me think hard about how to represent its objects, though in my own unique way.The drawing posts in the school painting class are really boring, and the teacher's drawing is extremely clumsy, so I have to explore various forms of expression by myself.After entering middle school, I already had a set of oil painting tools. Although I tried to find a model of painting skills from the impressionist style of painting, the things I painted were as dull and boring as children's handmade colored printing paper. look.However, Zhu Yi’s words inspired me and made me realize my previous views on painting—trying to describe as beautiful things as they are is naive, stupid and even completely fallacious.Masters of painting make use of subjective power to create beauty on those ordinary things. Although they feel disgusted by ugly things, they don't hide their interest in them, so they are immersed in the joy of expression.In other words, they are not at all swayed by other people's opinions.I got the original recipe for this method from Takeichi.So, without telling the female visitors, I set about making a self-portrait.
A sombre painting was born that shocked even me.But this is the true face of myself hidden deep in my heart.On the surface I am laughing happily and making others laugh, but in fact, I am carrying such a gloomy heart. "What else can I do?" I had no choice but to affirm the status quo secretly.But I didn't show that painting to anyone except Takeichi.I don't want people to see through the desolation behind my funny, and I don't want others to start wary of me all of a sudden, I'm afraid they don't even realize that this is my real face, and still treat it as a newly invented In a funny way, take it as a big joke.This is the most embarrassing thing for me.So I immediately hid that painting in the back of a drawer.
In the painting class at school, I also restrained the "monster-like painting method", and used the previous mediocre painting method to depict beautiful things as beauty.
In the past, I only showed off my easily injured nerves in front of Zhuyi as if nothing had happened, so this time I also boldly showed Zhuyi the self-portrait, and he really got his compliments.So, I drew the second and third portraits of monsters in succession.Zhuyi sent me another prophecy:
"You must be a great painter."
"I will definitely be infatuated with women" and "I will definitely become a great painter" are two prophecies engraved on my forehead by the fool Takeichi.Shortly thereafter, I came to Tokyo.
I originally wanted to go to art school, but my father told me that he had already made up his mind to let me go to high school so that I could become an official and a politician in the future.Therefore, I, who was naturally afraid to talk back to adults, had no choice but to follow my father's orders in a daze.My father asked me to take the high school entrance examination in Tokyo from the fourth grade, and I myself was tired of Linhai and the middle school full of cherry blossoms, so I did not wait until the fifth grade, and after the fourth grade was over, I was admitted to a high school in Tokyo. Student dormitory life.I was overwhelmed by the filth and roughness of the dormitory, and I couldn't care less about playing a buffoon to make me laugh.I asked the doctor to issue a medical certificate of "pulmonary infiltration", moved out of the student dormitory, and moved to my father's villa in Sakuragicho, Ueno.I can't live that kind of so-called collective life at all, and such rhetoric, such as the touch of youth, the pride of young people, etc., will only evoke a chill in my ears, making me incompatible with the "vigor of high school students".I even felt that no matter the classroom or the dormitory, they were nothing more than a garbage dump of distorted sexual desire.My near-perfect knack for making a laugh is useless here.
My father was only at the villa for a week or two a month when Parliament was not in session, and when he was away it was just the house steward (an elderly couple) and myself in the sprawling building.I often play truant, and I don’t have the heart to visit Tokyo (it seems that I won’t be able to see the Meiji Shrine, the bronze statue of Masanari Kusuki [a military commander in the Northern and Southern Dynasties of Japan], and the tomb of the forty-seven martyrs in Sengakuji), and I am bored all day long. Reading and painting at home.After my father went to Tokyo, I hurried to school every morning, but sometimes I went to the painting school of Western painter Shintaro Yasuda in Sendagi Town, Hongo, where I practiced sketching for three or four hours.After moving out of the high school dormitory, even sitting in class and listening to lectures felt a sense of disappointment, as if I was in the special position of an auditor.Even though it might just be prejudice, I was more afraid to go to school.I went to elementary school, middle school, and high school. In the end, I didn't understand what the so-called love for the school is. I never even thought about memorizing the school's school song.
Soon, in the painting school, I learned about alcohol, cigarettes, prostitutes, pawnshops, and left-wing ideas from a painting student.Although these things put together, it is a wonderful combination, it is true.
The student who studied painting was named Masao Takiki. He was born in a common area in Tokyo. He was six years older than me. After graduating from a private art school, he went to this painting school to continue his school of Western painting because his family did not have a studio.
"Can you lend me five dollars?"
Before that, I had only met face to face and never spoke, so I took out five yuan in a panic.
"Come on, let's go drink. I'll buy you a drink. You elephant girl."
I couldn't refuse, and I was dragged into the Horai Town Tavern near the painting school by him.That's how my relationship with him started.
"I've noticed you a long time ago. Look, that shy smile of yours is the characteristic expression of a promising artist. To commemorate our acquaintance, let's have a toast. ——Ajuan, this guy should be regarded as a Be a handsome man. Don't be fascinated by him. After this kid came to the school, I was downgraded to become the second most beautiful man."
Horaki has a dark and dignified face, wearing a neat suit and an elegant tie around his neck. This kind of attire is quite rare among painting students.His hair was pomaded and parted neatly down the middle to the sides.
In such an unfamiliar environment as a tavern, I felt nothing but fear.Embarrassed, I hugged my arms tightly for a while, and let them loose for a while, showing a shy smile.But after two or three glasses of wine, I felt a strange, liberating lightness.
"I thought about going to art school, but..."
"Oh, it's boring, it's such a boring place! Our teacher is in nature! In our passion for nature!"
But I didn't have the slightest respect for what he said, I just thought to myself: this is a fool!His drawings must be terrible, but as a playmate, he is probably the best person.For the first time in my life, I saw what a real urban ruffian is.Although the way of expression is quite different from mine, they belong to the same kind after all in terms of being completely dissociated from the livelihood of the world and lost and wandering.Moreover, he was unconsciously carrying out funny clown behaviors, completely unaware of the misery of such clown behaviors.This is where he is fundamentally different from me.
Just playing with him, treating him as a playmate - I always despise him like this, ashamed to associate with him.But in the process of walking with him, I myself became his defeated opponent.
At first I always thought he was a nice guy, a rare nice guy.Even I, who was afraid of people, completely relaxed my vigilance, thinking that I had found a good guide to show me Tokyo.To be honest, I am a person who would be afraid of the conductor when I take the tram; when I go to a Kabuki theater, I will be afraid when I see the guide girls standing side by side on both sides of the red carpeted steps at the gate; The wait staff who wait behind to clear away the dishes will also be intimidated.Omg my trembling hands especially when paying!After buying something, handing the money to the other party is not because of stinginess, but because of excessive nervousness, shyness, anxiety and terror. I just feel dizzy and the world suddenly becomes dark. I don’t even care about bargaining, and sometimes I even forget about it. In order to take the change, I forgot to take away the things I bought.I couldn't walk the streets of Tokyo alone, so I curled up at home all day to pass the time.
But once he handed over the wallet to Jumu and went shopping together, the situation was quite different. Jumu bargained wildly, as if he was an expert at playing games, making the most of the little money.Moreover, he stayed away from expensive taxis on the street and took trams, buses and small motorboats according to local conditions.He has the ability to use the shortest time to reach the destination, and he also demonstrated the education to me on the spot: For example, on the way home from the prostitute in the early morning, he stopped by a certain hotel, took a bath, and then ordered wine while eating tofu soup pot , This is not only cheap and cost-effective, but also looks very rich.He also taught me that beef rice bowls and yakitori sold by street vendors are not only cheap but nutritious.And it was safe to say that, of all the wines, brandy was the quickest and strongest.He never made me feel in the least bit uneasy or intimidated when it came to paying the bill.
Another great advantage of being in a relationship with Jumu is that Jumu completely ignores the other party's thoughts, and only listens to the so-called passion (maybe the so-called "passion" means ignoring the other party's position), and chatters about various boring topics all day long.So I don't have to worry about two people falling into awkward silence when they are tired from shopping.When I'm in a relationship, I'm most concerned with the dreaded silence, which is why I, being a naturally dumbass, try my best to play the buffoon to get through it.But this fool in front of me unintentionally took on the funny role, so that I could ignore his words, and I just needed to make jokes at the right time.
It didn't take long for me to understand that alcohol, cigarettes, and whores are wonderful, terrifying means of helping people forget about people for a while.I even had the idea that in order to seek these, I would sell all my possessions.
In my eyes, the kind of prostitute is neither a person nor a woman, but rather an idiot or a madman.In their arms, I can sit back and relax and sleep peacefully.They have no desire at all, it is almost sad.Maybe it's because I found a sense of kindred intimacy in me that those prostitutes often showed me natural kindness.This uncalculating, unforced kindness, the kindness of people I met by chance, did not make me uncomfortable, and made me see the Virgin Mary in the dark night, from the idiot or the madman whore. Leah's holy aura.
In order to get rid of the fear of people and get a good night's sleep, I went to them.But just as the whores "like me" were having fun, an air of unconscious distaste began to pervade, an "addition" that I hadn't even imagined myself.Gradually the "appendix" surfaced, and finally Jumu revealed the mystery.I couldn't help being stunned and deeply disgusted.In the eyes of others, to put it more simply, I am using prostitutes to cultivate women, and I have made remarkable progress.It is said that the art of dealing with women is best and most fruitful practiced through prostitution.I already have that "veteran in the wind and moon field" atmosphere wafting around me.Women (and not just prostitutes) instinctively sense the smell and succumb to it.People have taken this obscene and deeply disgraceful background as my "appendix," so that it stands out more than I intended to seek respite.
Perhaps Jueki said those words half-flatteringly, but unfortunately it hit the mark.For example, I once received a childish love letter from a woman in a tavern; and the girl in her twenties from the neighbor’s family in Sakuragi Town would choose the time for me to go to school every morning, deliberately put on a little powder and daisy and hesitate at home. In front of the door; when I go to eat beef rice, even if I don't say a word, the maid there will... The little girl in the cigarette shop I frequented even had it in the cigarette box handed me. ...and, when I went to watch Kabuki, the woman sitting next to me...drunk and fell asleep on a city tram late at night...and, the countryside A girl from a relative sent me a lovesick note unexpectedly... Also, an unknown girl left me a handmade puppet when I was out... .Because of my negative avoidance, every time the romance is like a superficial, stay in some incomplete fragments, without further progress.But there is one thing that is not a lie. Somewhere in me haunts the atmosphere of a woman's dream.When this point was pointed out by that guy, I felt a pain close to humiliation, and my interest in prostitutes suddenly disappeared.
Out of vanity and fashion-consciousness (I still think so. I can’t find any other reason than that) one day, Hoeki took me to a secret research meeting called the Communist Reading Club (probably It's called RS, I can't remember).Attending that secret meeting was just a side effect of someone like Horiki giving me a "tour of Tokyo".I was introduced to the so-called "comrades" and was forced to buy a pamphlet and listen to Marxist teachings by ugly young men sitting in the upper seats.But everything seems to me to be something that I don't understand anymore.Perhaps what he said was indeed reasonable, but deep down in the human heart, there is clearly something indescribable.Let's call it "desire", I feel that the words are not enough, and it is not accurate to call it "vanity", collectively called "eroticism and desire" is still not enough.Although I myself am in the fog, I always think that there is something at the bottom of the human world that is not purely economic, but something close to weird stories.I am a person who is extremely afraid of weird tales, so although I agree with materialism, it is like affirming that water flows downwards, but I cannot rely on this belief to get rid of the fear of people, and I cannot look at the green leaves and feel the joy of hope.However, I participated in the RS activities once and for all (only from memory, may be wrong). The "comrades" looked as if a major event was imminent, with tense faces, immersed in the theoretical research of elementary arithmetic such as "one plus one equals two".Seeing this scene, I thought it was ridiculous, so I used my usual funny skills to liven up the atmosphere of the meeting.Gradually, the formal atmosphere at the research meeting eased, and I became an indispensable darling at the meeting.Those seemingly innocent people think that I am as innocent as they are, and see me as an optimistic and witty "comrade".If so, I have deceived them through and through.I am not their "comrade", but I must come every time, and I will serve you with the jokes.
I love doing it and love them.Not the intimacy established by Marxism.
illegal.This brings me a little joy.No, rather it makes me happy.In fact, what the world calls "legal" is even scarier. (I have a hunch of something incredibly powerful about this).The complex structure is even more unreasonable.I can't stay in a cold room without doors and windows, even if there is an illegal sea outside, I have to jump into it.Even if I die immediately, I am willing.
There is a saying called "The Shady Man".It is those miserable losers and immoral people in the world.I feel that I have been a "shady person" since I was born, so once I meet the same kind that the world slanders, I can't help but become kind and gentle.Such "gentleness" is enough to make me mesmerized.
There is also a saying called "madman consciousness".I am tormented by this consciousness all the time, but it is also my wretched wife who shares weal and woe with me, wrestling with each other and playing lonely games.This has become my way of being.As the saying goes, "If you have a scar on your leg, you have no face to meet people."This kind of scar appeared on one of my legs when I was a baby. As I grew up, instead of healing, it intensified and spread to the depths of the bone marrow.The pain every night was like a kaleidoscopic hell, but (strange to say), the wound gradually became more intimate than my own flesh and blood.伤口的疼痛，仿佛有活生生的情感，如同爱情的呢喃。对我这样的男人，地下活动小组的氛围格外安心惬意。那运动的外壳比其追求的目的更为适合我。掘木则出于闹着玩的心理，把我介绍到那个集会中去，其实他自己总共只去了一次。他曾说过一句拙劣的俏皮话：“马克思主义者在研究生产这一方面的同时，也有必要观察消费这一方面嘛。”所以他不去集会，倒是一门心思拽住我到外面考察消费状况。回想当时各种各样的马克思主义者：有掘木那样爱慕虚荣、追赶时髦，心里自诩为“马克思主义者”的；也有我这样仅仅喜欢“不合法”气氛便一头扎入其中的。倘若我们的真实面目被真正的信仰者识破，无疑我俩都逃不过他们的愤怒斥责，被当成叛徒赶出组织。但我们却没有被开除，在不合法的世界里，我们比在绅士的合法世界里活得更加悠闲自在、游刃有余，显得“蓬勃健康”。以致于被当作前途无量的同志委以重任。真让人忍俊不禁。我一次也没有拒绝，泰然自若地受命，也不曾因举止反常而受到“狗”（同志们都这样称呼警察）的怀疑和审讯。我总是一边逗笑，一边准确无误地完成他们所谓的“危险”任务。 （那帮从事运动的家伙常常如临大敌般高度紧张，甚至蹩脚地模仿侦探小说，警惕过了头。他们交给我的任务全是无聊透顶的，却煞有介事地制造紧张气氛）。我心情当时是，宁愿作为共产党而遭捕，即使终生身陷囹圄，也绝不反悔。我甚至觉得与其对世上的“实生活”感到恐惧，每晚在辗转难眠的地狱中呻吟叹息，还不如被关进牢房来得畅快轻松。
父亲在樱木町的别墅里忙于接待客人，要么就是有事外出，所以虽然我和他住在同一屋檐下，有时连着三四天连一面都见不到。我总觉得父亲很难接近，严厉可怕，因此也琢磨着是不是该离开这个家搬到某个宿舍去住。还没说出口，就从别墅老管家那里听说了父亲有意出售这栋房子。
父亲的译员任期即将届满，想必还有种种理由吧，他无意继续参选，打算在故乡建一个隐居的地方，对东京似乎并不留恋。我不过是个高中生，特地为我保留住宅和佣人在他看来是种不必要的浪费吧。（父亲的心事与世上所有人的心事一样，是我无法明白的）这样，这个家不久就转让给别人，我搬进了本乡森川町一栋名叫仙游馆的旧公寓的阴暗房间。过了一阵子，在经济上便陷入了窘境。
在此之前我总是每月从父亲那里拿到固定金额的零花钱。即使这笔钱立马告罄，香烟、酒、乳酪、水果等等家里随时都有。书、文具、衣服和其他一切也可以在附近店铺赊帐。连款待掘木吃荞麦面或炸虾盖浇饭，只要是父亲经常光顾的这条街上的餐馆，都可以吃完后一声不响甩手而去。
可现在一下子变成了宿舍独居的生活，一切都只能在每月的定额汇款中开销。我真是一筹莫展。汇款依旧是在两三天内花个精光，我不寒而栗，心中没底几近发狂，交替着给父亲、哥哥、姐姐又是打电报，又是写长信，催他们快点寄钱给我（信中所写之事，又全是逗人发笑的虚构。窃以为，求助他人的上策乃是引人发笑）。另外，我在掘木的教唆下，频繁出入当铺。可是手头照样拮据。
我没有在无亲无故的宿舍中独立“生活”的能力。兀自呆子宿舍房间里我感到是那么可怕，仿佛顷刻就会遭到某个人的袭击或暗算似的。所以我总是不由自主地往大街上跑，要么去帮助那种“运动”，要么和掘木一起到处寻找廉价的酒馆喝酒，学业和绘画也荒废了。进入高中翌年十一月，发生了我和那个年长于我的有夫之妇徇情的事件，彻底改变了我的命运。
我上学经常缺席，学习也毫不用功，奇怪的是，考试答题却颇多要领，故而一直瞒过了家人。然而不久，终于因为我旷课太多，学校秘密通知了故乡的父亲。作为父亲的代理人，大哥给我寄来了一封措辞严厉的长信。不过比起这封信，倒是经济上的困境和那种运动交给我的任务给我带来了更直接、更剧烈的痛苦，使我无法以半游戏的心境来泰然处之。我当上了不知叫中央地区，还是什么地区的——反正包括本乡、小石川、下谷、神田那一带所有学校的马克思主义学生行动队的队长。听说要搞武装暴动，我买了一把小刀子（现在想来，不过是把纤细得连铅笔都削不好的水果刀），把它塞进雨衣口袋四处奔走，进行所谓的“联络”。真想喝了酒大睡一场，可手头没有钱。而且从P那儿（我记得P就是党的暗语，不过也可能记错）不停地下达了任务，连喘息的时间都没有。我这副羸弱的身子骨实在是吃不消了。本来我就是仅仅对“不合法”感兴趣而参加这种小组活动的，如今变成了假戏真做，忙得手忙脚乱，我就无法控制自己，不禁在心中恨恨地对P的人嘀咕：恐怕你们是弄错对象了吧？那些任务交给你们的嫡系成员不是更好吗？于是我逃走了。虽然逃走，心情却没有变好，我决定去死。
那时，恰好有三个女人对我表现出特别的关心。其中一个是我寄宿的仙游馆老板娘的女儿。每当我参加运动后身心疲惫地回到房间，饭也不吃就躺下来时，那姑娘总会拿着便筏和钢笔走进我的房间，说道：
“对不起，楼下的弟弟妹妹吵死人了，害我都没法写信了。”
说罢就在桌子旁坐下来，一口气写上一个多小时。我本来可以佯装什么都不知道照旧躺着，可那姑娘的神情好像是希望我开口说点什么。所以我又发挥了惯用的那种被动服务的精神。尽管我其实一句话也不想说，还是拖着疲惫不堪的身体，强打精神，趴在那边一边吸烟一边“嗯嗯唔唔”地应付着。
“听说呀有一种男人，用女人寄来的情书烧水洗澡。”
“哎呀，那可真讨厌呐。是你吧？”
“不，我嘛，只是用情书煮过牛奶喝。”
“真是了不起。你喝吧。”
我暗自忖度着：这人怎么还不快点回去？写什么信啊，不是明摆着在撒谎吗？其实不过在那儿鬼画桃符罢了
.
“把你写的信给我瞧瞧！”
事实上我宁死也不想看。谁知这样一说，她竟连声嚷嚷：“哎呀，真讨厌，哎呀，真讨厌。”那兴奋的模样真是有失体面，让我大为扫兴。于是我想打发她曲干点事。
“对不起，你能不能去电车附近的药店，给我买点安眠药呢？我太累了，脸上发烫，反而睡不着。对不起，钱嘛……”
“行啊，钱好说。”
她愉快地起身走了。我深谙，打发女人去干活是不会惹她讨厌的。就是说，男人拜托女人做事，她会高兴的。
另一个女人则是女子高等师范学校的文科学生，一个所谓的“同志”。因为运动的关系，我和她不管愿意与否，都每天碰头。碰头会结束后，这个女人总跟在我后面，不停地买东西给我。
“你就把我当作你的亲姐姐好啦。”
她这种酸溜溜的说法搞得我毛骨悚然。我做出一副不乏忧郁的微笑表情，说道：
“我正是这么想的呐。”
总之我深知，激怒女人是很可怕的。我心中只有一个想法，就是千方百计地敷衍过去。因此我甚至不惜为那个讨厌而丑陋的女人做出牺牲，让她买东西给我（其实那些东西都是些品味粗俗的东西，我大都当即送给了烤鸡肉串的老板），并装出兴高采烈的样子，开玩笑逗她开心。一个夏天的夜晚，她缠着我怎么也不肯离去，为了打发她早点回去，在街头一个阴暗角落里，我亲吻了她。谁知她却厚颜无耻地欣喜若狂，叫住一辆计程车，把我带到了一个狭窄的西式房间里（这房间是他们为了运动而秘密租借的办公室）。在那里我和她一直折腾到第二天早晨。“一个荒唐透顶的姐姐”，我暗自苦笑着想到。
无论是房东家的女儿还是这个“同志”，都不得不每天见面，所以，不可能像从前遇到的种种女人那样巧妙避开。出于自己惯有的那种不安心理，我反而拼命讨好这两个女人，结果被她们牢牢地束缚住了。
同时，我从银座一个大酒馆的女招待那里蒙受了意想不到的恩惠。尽管只是一面之交，但由于这种恩惠，我仍然感觉到一种被束缚住而无法动弹的忧虑和恐惧。那时，我已经毋需再借助掘木的向导，而摆出一副老油子的架势来了，比如可以一个人去乘坐电车，或是去歌舞伎剧场，抑或穿着碎花布和服光顾酒馆了。在内心深处，我依旧对人的自信心和暴力深感怀疑、恐惧和苦恼，但至少在表面上可以和他人面对面一本正经地寒暄了。不，不对，尽管就我的本性而言，不伴随败北的丑角式的苦笑，就无法与别人交谈，但我好歹磨炼出了一种“伎俩”，可以忘情地与人进行张口结舌的交谈了。莫非这应归功于我为那种运动四处奔波？抑或归功于女人？或者是酒精？但更主要得归功于经济上的窘境。无论在哪里，我都会感到恐惧。可要是在大酒吧里被一大群醉鬼或女招待、侍应生簇拥着，能够暂时忘却那种恐惧的话，那么，我这不断遭到追逐的心灵，不是也能获得片刻的宁静吗？我抱着这样的想法，揣上十块钱，一个人走进了银座的大酒吧里。我笑着对女招待说：
“我身上只有十块钱，你看着办吧。”
"You can rest assured."
她的口音里夹杂着一点关西腔。她的这一句话竟然奇妙地平息了我这颗心的悸动。这倒不是因为她的话消解了我对钱的担忧，而是消解了我留在她身边的担忧。
我喝开了酒。因为对她相当放心，所以反而无心进行滑稽表演了，只是不加掩饰地展示自己天生的沉默寡言喝抑郁寡欢，一声不吭地呷着酒。
“这种菜，你喜欢吗？”
那女人把各式各样的菜肴摆放在我面前问我。I shake my head.
“只喝酒吗？那我也陪你喝吧。”
那是一个寒冷的秋天之夜。我按照常子（我记得是叫这个名字，但记忆已经模糊不清了。瞧，我这个人竟然连一起殉情自杀的对方的名字都忘记了)所吩咐的那样，在银座背街的一个露天寿司摊铺上一边吃着难以下咽的寿司，一边等着她（虽说忘了她的名字，可偏偏那寿司难以下咽的滋味，不知为何竟清晰地留在我的记忆里。而且，那个长着一副黄颔蛇脸相、脑袋已经秃顶的老板一边摇晃着头，一边像个行家似的捏着寿司的情景，至今仍历历在目。多年以后，好多次我乘坐在电车上，会忽然觉得某张面孔似曾相识，想来想去，才想起它原来与那个时候寿司店老板颇为相似，于是我不禁露出了苦涩的微笑。在她的名字和脸庞都从我地记忆中消隐而去了的今天，唯有那寿司店老板的面孔，我还能记得那么准确无误，以致于可以轻松地描摹出一张肖像画来。我想，这无疑是因为当时的寿司过于难吃，竟带给我寒冷与痛楚的缘故。我从没有这样的体验，被人带到一个所谓的美味无比的寿司店里去吃寿司，而真的会觉得好吃的体验。那寿司太大了。我常常想，难道不能捏成大拇指大小吗？
她在本所[东京的一个地名]租借了木匠家二楼的一个房间。在这儿，我一点也用不着隐匿自己平常那颗悒郁的心灵，就像受到剧烈牙痛的袭击一样，我一边用一只手捂住脸颊，一边喝茶。我的这种姿势反倒赢得了她的欢心。她给人的感觉，就像是一个完全孤立的女人，周遭刮着凛冽的寒风，只有落叶枯枝在四处飞舞。
我一边躺着休息，一边听她唠叨自己的身世。她比我年长两岁，老家在广岛。她说道：“我是有丈夫的人呐。原本他在广岛开了个理发店。去年夏天，一起背井离乡来到了东京，可丈夫在东京却没干什么正经事。不久，被判了诈骗罪，现在还呆在监狱里呐。我呀，每天都要去监狱给他送点东西，但从明天起，我就再也不去了。”不知为什么，我这个人天生就对女人的身世毫无兴趣，不知是因为女人在这方面叙述方式拙劣，还是因为她们的谈话不得要领，反正对我来说，她们所说的话都不过是马耳东风。
真是寂寞啊。
比起女人连篇累牍的痛说家世，倒是这样一句短短的叹息更引发我的共鸣。尽管我一直期待着，却从来没有从这个世上的女人那儿听到过这样的叹息。不过，眼前这个女人尽管没有用言语说过一句”真是寂寞啊“，但是，她的身体轮廓中却流淌着一种剧烈而无言的寂寞，就像是一股一寸见方的气流一样，我的身体一旦考近她，就会被那股气流牢牢地包围住，于我自己所拥有的那种多少有些阴郁的气氛，恰到好处地交融在一起，宛若”枯叶落在水底的岩石之上“，使我得以从恐惧和不安中抽身逃遁。
与躺在那些白痴妓女的怀中安然入睡的感觉截然不同（首先，那些妓女是快活的），跟这个诈骗犯之妻所度过的一夜，对我来说是获得了解放的幸福之夜（不加思索地在肯定意义上使用这样一种夸张的说法，我想，这在我的整篇手记中是绝无仅有的）
但也仅仅只有一夜。早晨，我睁眼醒来翻身下床，又变成了原来那个浅薄无知、善于伪装的滑稽角色。胆小鬼甚至会惧怕幸福。棉花也能让人受伤。趁着还没有受伤，我想就这样赶快分道扬镳。我又放出了惯用的逗笑烟幕弹。
“有一句话叫钱一用完，缘分就断，其实这句话的解释恰好被人颠倒了。并不是说钱一用光，男人就会被女人甩掉。而是说男人一旦没有钱，自个儿就会意志消沉，变得颓废窝囊。甚至连笑声都缺乏力量，而且性情出奇地乖戾，最终破罐子破摔，自个儿主动甩了女人。就是说近于半疯狂的彻底甩掉女人。据《金洋大辞林》上解释，就是这个意思呐。真可怜呀。我也多少懂得点那种心境。”
的确，我记得自己当时说了上述那些蠢话，把常子逗得哈哈大笑。我觉得不宜久留，脸也没洗就跑了出来，可没想到我当时编造的关于“钱一用完，缘分就断”的胡言乱语，后来竟与我自己发生了意想不到的关联。
在此后的一个月里我都没有去见那一夜的恩人。分手之后，随着日子的流逝，喜悦之情也逐渐淡漠，倒是蒙受了她恩惠这一点让我有一种隐隐的不安，感到了一种沉重的束缚。甚至对酒吧里的所有消费都由常子结的帐这种世俗的事情，也开始耿耿于怀了。常子最终也跟房东的女儿、女子高等师范学校那个女人一样，成了仅仅是胁迫着我的女人，所以即使相距甚远，我也会对常子感到恐惧，而且我觉得，一旦再遇到那些与自己谁过觉的女人，她们就会对我勃然大怒，所以对再见到她们颇为胆怯心虚。正因为我的性格如此，所以我对银座采取了敬而远之的态度。不过这种胆怯心虚的性格绝不是源于我的狡猾，而是因为我还不大明白这样一种不可思议的现象:女人这种生物在生存时，是把晚上一起睡觉与第二天早上起床之后这两者严格区分开来的，就像是彻底忘却了其间的关联一样，干净利落地斩断了那两个世界的联系。
十一月末，我和掘木在神田的露天摊铺上喝廉价的酒。这个恶友主张离开现在的摊铺去另一个地方喝酒。可是我们已经花光了手头的钱，可在这种情况下他还是硬吵嚷着“喝呀，喝呀”。此时的我已经喝得醉醺醺的，胆子也变大了，我说道：
“好吧，那我就带你去一个梦的国度。可别大惊小怪，那儿真可谓是酒池肉林......”
“是一个酒馆？”
"right."
"Let's go."
事情就这样定了，两个人一起坐上了市营电车。掘木兴奋得欢蹦乱跳，说道：
“今夜我可是好想要个女人呐。在那儿可以亲女招待吗？”
平常我市不大愿意让掘木演出那种醉态的。掘木也知道这一点，所以又特意问了一句：
“我亲她，行吗？”坐在我旁边的女招待，我一定要亲给你瞧瞧。Ok? "
"Are you ok?"
“那太好了！我真是太想要女人了。”
在银座的四丁目下车后，仗着常子的关系，我们身无半文地走进了那家所谓酒池肉林的大酒馆。我和掘木挑了一个空着的包厢相对而坐，只见常子和另一个女招待迅速跑了过来。那另一个女招待坐在了我的身边，而常子则一屁股坐在了掘木的身边。我不由得吃了一惊：常子眼看就要被掘木亲吻了。
但我并不是一种觉得可惜的感觉。我这个人本来就没有太强的占有欲，即使偶尔有可惜的感觉，也绝没有那种大胆主张自己的所有权，奋起与人抗争的力量，以致于在后来的某一天，我甚至默不做声地眼睁睁看着一个与自己同居的女人遭到了别人的玷污。
我竭力避免介入人与人之间的芥蒂，害怕卷入那样的漩涡之中。常子与我不过是一夜的交情。她并不属于我。我不可能有觉得可惜的欲望，不过我毕竟还是吃了一惊。
常子就在我的面前接受着掘木强烈的亲吻。我为常子的境遇感到可怜。这样一来，被掘木玷污过的常子或许就不得不与我分手了吧。而且我也不具备足够的热情来挽留住常子。啊，事情被迫到此结束了。我对常子的不幸涌起了瞬间的惊愕，但随即又如同流水般老老实实地彻底绝望了。我来回瞅着掘木与常子的面孔，嗤笑了起来。
但事态却意想不到地恶化了。
“算了吧！”掘木歪着嘴巴说道，“就连我这种穷光蛋也要的女人......”
他就像是困窘至极似的交叉着双臂，目不转睛地盯着常子，苦笑了。
“给我酒，我身上没有钱。”我小声地对常子说道。我真想喝个烂醉。从所谓的世俗眼光来看，常子的确是一个不值得醉汉亲近、丑陋而贫穷的女人。我感到自己就像是意外遭受到雷击一样。我喝呀，喝呀，从没喝过这么多酒，一直喝到烂醉如泥，与常子面面相觑，悲哀地微笑着。经掘木这么一说，我真的觉得她不过是一个疲惫不堪而又贫穷下贱的女人，可与此同时，一种同病相怜的亲近感又油然而生（我至今仍旧认为：贫富之间的矛盾尽管貌似陈腐，但却是戏剧家笔下永恒的主题）。我发现常子是那么可爱，以致于我平生第一此觉察到了自己萌发了一种虽然微弱却积极主动的恋爱之心。我吐了，吐得不省人事。喝酒喝得不省人事，这还是第一次。
醒来一看，常子坐在我的枕边。原来我是睡在了本所木匠家二楼的房间里。
“你说过钱一用完，缘分就断，我还以为是开玩笑来着。莫非你是真心说的？要不，你干嘛不来了？要断绝缘分也不是那么容易的。难道我挣钱给你用，还不行吗？”
“不，那可不行。”
然后那个女人也躺下睡了。拂晓时分，从女人的口中第一次迸出了“死”这个字眼。她早已被人世的生活折磨得筋疲力尽，而我一想到自己对人世的恐惧和生存的烦忧，还有金钱、女人、学业、运动等等，似乎就再也无法忍耐着活下去了。于是不加思索地赞同了她的提议。
但当时我却没有真正做好去“死”的思想准备。其中的确隐含着某种“游戏”的成分。
那天上午，我和她双双徜徉在浅草区，一块儿走进了一家咖啡馆，各自喝了一杯牛奶。
“帐你先结了吧。”
我站起身，从袖口里掏出小钱包，打开一看，里面仅有三块铜币。一种比羞耻更为凄烈的情愫一下子攫住了我。我的脑海里一闪而过的是自己在仙游馆的那个房间，那只剩下了学生制服喝被褥，再也没有任何东西可以送进当铺的荒凉房间。除此之外，我的所有家当就只有此刻穿在身上的碎花布和服与斗篷了。这便是我的现实。我清醒地意识到自己已经是走投无路了。
看见我不知所措的样子，那女人也站了起来，瞅了瞅我的钱包问道：
“哎？！就这么点钱？！”
尽管这句话有口无心，但分明有种疼痛感穿透了我的骨髓。这是我第一次因为自己所爱的人说的话而体验到的痛苦。三枚铜币说到底算不得是钱，它带过我从未咀嚼过的奇妙屈辱感，一种没脸再活下去的屈辱感。归根到底，那时的我还没彻底摆脱有钱人家纨绔子弟这一种属性吧。也就在这时候，我才真正地作为一种实感做出了去死的决定。
那天夜里我们俩一块儿跳进了镰仓的海面。那女人嗫嚅着“这腰带还是从店里的朋友那儿借来的呐”，随即解了下来叠放在岩石上面。我也脱下了斗篷放在同一块岩石上，然后双双纵身跳进了海水里。
女人死掉了，我却得救了。
或许因为我是一个高中生，再加上父亲的名字多少具有一些所谓的新闻效应吧，情死的事儿被当作一起重大事件登载在报纸上。
我被收容在海滨的医院里，一个亲戚还专程从故乡赶来，处理种种后事。故乡的父亲和一家人都勃然大怒，有可能就此与我断绝关系，那个亲戚这样告诉我以后就回去了。但我哪有心思顾及这些，我只是在想念死去的常子，禁不住潸然泪下。因为在我迄今为止交往的人中间，我只喜欢那个贫穷下贱的常子。
房东的女儿给我寄来了一封长信，里面是她写的五十首短歌。这些短歌的开头一句全是清一色的“为我活着吧”这样一种奇特的句子。护士们快活地笑着到我的病房里来玩，其中有些护士总是在紧紧握过我的手之后才转身离去。
在这所医院检查出我的左肺上有毛病。这对我来说，倒是一件好事。不久，我被警察以“协助自杀罪”为名带到了警局。在那里他们把我当病人对待，收容在特别看守室里。
深夜，在特别看守室旁边的值班室内，一个通宵值班的年迈警察悄悄拉开两个房间中央的门，招呼我道：
“冷吧。到这边来烤烤火吧。”
我故作无精打采地走进值班室，坐在椅子上烤起火来。
“到底还是舍不得那个死去的女人吧。”
“嗯。”我故意用小得几乎听不见的声音回答道。
“这就是所谓的人情吧。”
接着他渐渐摆开了架势，俨然一副法官的样子装腔作势地问道。
“最初和那女人搞上关系是在哪儿？”
他当我是个小孩子，摆出一副审讯主任的派头，为了打发这个秋天的夜晚，企图从我身上套出什么近于猥亵的桃色新闻。我很快觉察出这一点，拼命忍住想笑的神经。尽管我也知道，对警察这种“非正式审讯”我有权利拒绝做出任何回答，但为了给这漫长的秋夜增添一点兴致，我始终在表面上奇妙地表现出一片诚意，仿佛从不怀疑他就是真正的审讯主任，而刑罚的轻重彻底取决于他的意志。我还进行了一番适当的“陈述”，以多少满足一下他那颗色迷迷的好奇心。
“唔，这样我就大体上明白了。如果一切都照实回答。我嘛，自然会酌情从宽处理的。”
“谢谢，还请您多多关照。”
真是出神入化的演技。这是一种对自己毫无益处的卖力表演。
It was daylight.我被署长叫了过去。这一次是正式审讯。
就在打开门走近署长室的当口，署长发话了：
“哦，真是个好男儿啊。这倒怪不了你。怪只怪你的母亲，生下了你这样一个好男儿。”
这是一个皮肤微黑、像是从大学毕业的年轻署长，听他突如其来地这样一说，我不禁萌发了一种悲哀的感觉，就像自己是一个半爿脸上长满了红斑的、丑陋的残疾人一样。
这个署长的模样就像是一个柔道选手或剑道选手，他的审讯方式也显得干练爽快，与那个老警察在深夜进行的隐秘二执拗的的好色审讯相比，真可谓天壤之别。审讯结束后，署长一边整理送往检查局的文件，一边说道：
“你得好好爱惜身体呐。你吐血了吧？”
那天早晨我有些反常地咳嗽。一咳嗽，我就用手巾掩住嘴巴。只见手巾上就像是降了红色的霰子一样沾满了血。但那并不是从喉咙里咳出来的血，而是昨天夜里我抠耳朵下面的小疙瘩时流出来的血。我突然意识到，不挑明其间的真相或许对我更为有利，所以只是低下头，机敏地回答道：
"yes."
署长写完文件后说道：
“至于是否起诉，得由检察官来决定。不过，还是得用电报或电话通知你的担保人，让他到横滨检查局来一趟。总该有一个人吧，诸如你的担保人或监护人之类的。”
我突然想起，一个曾经经常出入于父亲别墅、名叫涩田的书画古董商是我学校的担保人。这个叫涩田的人，和我们是同乡，常常拍我父亲的马屁，是一个长得又矮又胖、年届四十的独身男人。他的脸，特别是眼睛，与比目鱼十分相似，所以父亲总叫他“比目鱼”，我也就跟着那么叫惯了。
我借助警察的电话簿，查到了“比目鱼”家的电话号码。我拨通了电话，请他到横滨检查局来一趟。没想到“比目鱼”就像是变了一个人似的，说起话来竟然装腔作势的，但还是答应了下来。
“喂，那个电话话筒还是消毒一下为好。没看见他吐血了吗？”
当我回到特别看守室坐下之后，听见署长正用大嗓门吩咐警察给电话话筒消毒。
午饭以后，我被他们用细麻绳绑住胳膊，与一个年轻警察一起乘坐电车向横滨出发了。尽管他们准许我用斗篷遮住捆绑的痕迹，但麻绳的异端却被年轻的警察牢牢地握在手中