Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore

The night before I took the children up into the hills, I had a dream about my husband, just before dawn. He had been drafted and was off at war. The dream was extremely realistic and sexually charged-one of those dreams that's so vivid it's hard to distinguish between dream and reality.

In the dream we were lying on a large flat rock having sex. It was a light gray rock near the top of a mountain. The whole thing was about the size of two tatami mats, the surface smooth and damp. It was cloudy and looked like it was about to storm, but there wasn't any wind. It seemed near twilight, and birds were hurrying off to their nests. So there the two of us were, under that cloudy sky, silently having intercourse. We hadn't been married long at this time, and the war had separated us. My body was burning for my husband.

I felt an indescribable pleasure. We tried all sorts of positions and did it over and over, climaxing again and again. It's strange, now that I think of it, for in real life the two of us were quiet, rather introverted people. We'd never given in to our passions like this or experienced such soaring pleasure. But in the dream, for the first time in our lives, we'd thrown away all restraints and were going at it like animals.

When I opened my eyes it was still dim outside and I felt very odd. My body felt heavy, and I could still feel my husband deep inside me. My heart was pounding and I found it hard to breathe. My vagina was wet, just like after intercourse. It felt as if I'd really made love and not just dreamed it. I'm embarrassed to say it, but I masturbated at this point. I was burning with lust and had to do something to calm down.

Afterward I rode my bike to school as usual and escorted the children on our field trip to Owan yama. As we walked up the mountain path I could still feel the lingering effects of sex. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could feel my husband coming inside me, his semen shooting against the wall of my womb. I'd clung to him for all I was worth, my legs spread as wide as possible, my ankles entangled with his thighs. I was, frankly, in a daze as I took the children up the hill. I felt like I was still in the middle of that realistic, erotic dream.

We climbed up the mountain, reached the spot we were aiming at, and just as the children were getting ready to fan out to hunt for mushrooms, my period suddenly started. It wasn't time for it. My last one had stopped only ten days before, and my periods were always regular. Perhaps this erotic dream had stirred something up inside me and set it off. Naturally I hadn't come prepared, and here we were in the hills far from town.

I instructed the children to take a short break, then I went off alone far into the woods and took care of myself as best I could with a couple of towels I'd brought along. There was a great deal of blood, and it made quite a mess, but I was sure I'd be able to manage until we made it back to school. My head was a complete blank, and I couldn't focus at all. I had a guilty conscience, I imagine-about that uninhibited dream, about masturbating, and about having sexual fantasies in front of the children. I was usually the type who suppressed those kinds of thoughts.

I had the children go off to gather their mushrooms, and was thinking we'd better make it a short trip and go back as soon as we could. Back at school I'd be able to clean up better. I sat down and watched the children as they hunted for mushrooms. I kept a head count, and made sure none of them were out of my sight.

After a while, though, I noticed one little boy walking toward me with something in his hands. It was the boy named Nakata-the same boy who didn't regain consciousness and was hospitalized. He was holding the bloody towels I'd used. I gasped and couldn't believe my eyes. I'd hidden them far away, out of sight, where the children wouldn't go. You have to understand that this is the most embarrassing thing for a woman, something you don't want anybody else to see. How he was able to unearth them I have no idea.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was slapping him. I grabbed him by the shoulders and was slapping him hard on the cheeks. I might have been yelling something, I don't recall. I was out of control, no longer in my right mind. I think the embarrassment must have been so great I was in shock. I'd never, ever struck one of the children before. But it wasn't me who was doing it.

Suddenly I noticed all the children there, staring at me. Some were standing, some sitting, all of them facing me. It was all right in front of them-me, pale, standing there, Nakata collapsed on the ground from all the blows, the bloody towels. It was a moment frozen in time. Nobody moved, nobody said a word. The children were expressionless, their faces like bronze masks. A deep silence descended on the woods. All you could hear were the birds chirping. I can't get that scene out of my mind.

I don't know how much time passed. Probably not so long, but it seemed like forever-time driving me to the very edge of the world. Finally I snapped out of it. Color had returned to the world around me. I hid the bloody towels behind me and lifted Nakata up from where he lay. I held him tight and apologized to him as best I could. I was wrong, please, please forgive me, I begged him. He looked like he was still in shock. His eyes were blank, and I don't think he could hear what I said. With him still in my arms I turned to the other children and told them to resume their mushroom hunting. They probably couldn't comprehend what had just taken place. It was all too strange, too sudden.

I stood there for a while, holding Nakata tight in my arms, feeling like I wanted to die or disappear. Just over the horizon the violence of war went on, with countless people dying. I no longer had any idea what was right and what was wrong. Was I really seeing the real world? Was the sound of birds I was hearing real? I found myself alone in the woods, totally confused, blood flowing freely from my womb. I was angry, afraid, embarrassed-all of these rolled into one. I cried quietly, without making a sound.

And that's when the children collapsed.

I wasn't about to tell the military people what had really happened. It was wartime, and we had to keep up appearances. So I left out the part about my period starting, about Nakata finding the bloody towels, and me hitting him. Again, I'm afraid this threw an obstacle in your path as you investigated the incident. You can't imagine how relieved I am to finally get it off my chest.

Strangely enough, none of the children had any memory of the incident. Nobody remembered the bloody towels or me beating Nakata. Those memories had fallen away completely from their minds. Later, soon after the incident, I was able to indirectly sound out each child and confirm that this was indeed the case. Perhaps the mass coma had already started by then.

I'd like to say a few things about young Nakata, as his former homeroom teacher. What happened to him after the incident, I don't really know. When I was interviewed after the war the American officer told me he'd been taken to a hospital in Tokyo and finally regained consciousness. But he wouldn't tell me any details. I imagine that you know more about this than I do, Professor.

Nakata was one of the five children evacuated to our town from Tokyo, and of the five he was the brightest and had the best grades. He had very pleasant features and always dressed well. He was a gentle boy and never butted in where he didn't belong. Never once during class did he volunteer an answer, but when I called on him, he always gave the correct answer, and when I asked his opinion he'd give a logical reply. He caught on right away, no matter what the subject. Every class has a student like that, one who'll study what he needs to without supervision, who you know will one day attend a top college and get an excellent job. A child who's innately capable.