Kenzaburo Oe - Somersault

"As it turned out, though, we were leaping to conclusions. The confron- tation two days ago between Patron and Ikuo convinced us of this. Patron was afraid that more than a thousand people would be burned to death. He was going to make an announcement over the speakers to tell everyone to flee, but Ikuo stopped him. It was like he was insane. We think he was merely afraid.

"When we heard this news, we thought Hallelujah! as a scene flashed through our minds of seven hundred believers all passing up to heaven along with Patron in this glorious holy place. But Patron was afraid. He lost con- sciousness and had to be comforted by someone of limited intelligence. When we heard this, we decided we'd have to do things our way.

"The Passion in this holy land that seven hundred couldn't realize we've decided to carry out with twenty-five. Wasn't the illusion Patron had-that the Fireflies were about to burn to death a thousand people, curious onlook- ers included-something that bubbled up out of his dread, out of the depths of his very being? If Guide were alive I know he'd correct Patron's mistake.

But the only way we can correct him-and educate him-is by taking action."

Mrs. Shigeno's confident tone quickly drew Ogi's imagination away from the three women seated in front of him to a place, some ten hours later, where he was dealing with the dead bodies of all the Quiet Women. Strangely enough, this made him picture, quite intimately, the face of Mrs. Tsugane, her features, perhaps because of her age, sharply outlined, as she arranged a tryst between them deep in the woods of this very same north slope. Ogi sought refuge in the scent of her living body, so very different from the smell of death.

As he thought all this, Mrs. Takada, totally indifferent to the smooth skin covering the spot where her right eye should be, said, "I've had this for quite a long time." She pulled out a thick glass bottle, four inches high, from a paper bag. "They told me it's enough cyanide to kill fifty people. I'll divide it into twenty-five portions. Dr. Koga would help me, don't you think?"

Ogi flinched from the proffered bag, but Ikuo stretched out a long manly arm and snatched it up.

Ogi, feeling helpless and alone, couldn't stay quiet any longer. "People call me an innocent youth, and I'm not sure but what you're pulling my leg here, but why do all of you have to pass away? Can you imagine the impact it's going to have if all the Quiet Women commit mass suicide right when Patron's about to launch his new church?"

Ikuo and the three Quiet Women all looked disgusted. Even so, Mrs.

Shigeno tried to respond.

"I'm getting on in years and I want to settle things while I'm still in my right mind, while my body still is able to function. I'm not speaking for all the Quiet Women, though… To put it in a more general way, don't you feel that the world is fast falling apart? In twenty years it will be even worse, and everyone then will have to consider the problems I'm thinking about now.

When you picture this, you realize that the coming end time will be just like Patron used to preach about before the Somersault. What we're going to do is revive the message of Patron's old sermons and pass away first.

"From the bottom of our hearts, we wish Patron well in establishing his Church of the New Man. Some of the media reported that after he and Guide left the church we lost all hope and Patron feared we would commit mass suicide. So he made statements making fun of our belief, saying it was ridicu- lous, so we no longer seriously considered dying. That was his plan all along, the articles said.

"When we read these articles we couldn't believe them. It was just too simplistic. We were outraged, because if what they said was true, it was an insult to the Quiet Women. But after what just took place, we've had to re- think our position. Patron didn't calculate anything. He was simply afraid…??

This time we're going to take the initiative and pass away. After that, if Patron makes another calculated Somersault, it won't have any meaning."

Ogi was at a loss for words. He felt hopelessly naive and impotent. He told himself over and over he couldn't cry in front of Ms. Takada, with her pale smooth skin over one eye.

Giving Ogi's shoulder an almost cruelly strong thump, Ikuo addressed the three women. "The sun's getting a little hot, and I think we're about fin- ished here, so we'd better be getting along. Please excuse Ogi for not keeping his promise about not interrupting. As everyone says, he's terribly innocent… Please take Gii's car back to the Hollow. I'm going to go with Ogi to the Farm.

Don't worry, he won't break your trust anymore."

"At last night's party, backstage, we settled things with Mr. Hanawa,"

Ms. Oyama said. "If they were really to oppose us, our occupation of the chapel wouldn't last very long."

Mrs. Shigeno turned to Ogi, who was flushed and completely unnerved by what he'd heard. "Trying to get in touch with the police would be even more futile," she warned. "We've given a lot of thought to the arrangements for our ascent and have come up with several possible scenarios. If you try to do something, first of all Ikuo will stop you. But even if you get through to the police and they show up, we'll just hole up in the chapel that much ear- lier, with the Technicians standing guard. If there isn't time for the poison to work, the windows in the chapel are just the right height for hanging. There are footstools in the chapel already, and we've laid in a stock of rope."

Many cars were parked inside and outside the Farm, cars not left over from the party the previous night. Three RVs were parked in the meadow opposite the entrance, all with curtains drawn. Activity had begun at the Farm, with nothing left over from the party. Some young people in the open space in front of the buildings were cleaning up, others were transporting mountains of garbage bags, while still others were removing the party deco- rations from the roof and side walls of the barn. Technicians were super- vising each of these groups. Visitors were walking around, looking at the meat-processing plant from outside, checking the enlargements being made to the chicken coops.

Before Ikuo and Ogi could get out of their car, a young Firefly whose face Ogi remembered came over, eager to carry out his assigned duties.

"Mr. Hanawa is working behind the warehouse," he said, "and told me to tell you to meet him over there." On the north side of the grassy meadow, where all sorts of activities were going on, stood a food manufacturing facil- ity, but Ikuo and Ogi walked on the west side, which was deserted except for two large warehouses, and continued down a narrow path between them, coming out to a spot like a garden in a mountain retreat between a quiet grove of oaks and beeches. One could sense the calm life of the person living there.

On the north side stood an old two-story western-style house, which was where Satchan, the farm's owner, lived. The well-tended land sloped gently clown from west to south to a woods with evergreen oaks, and in the midst of the dark foliage they could see the roof of the house where Gii and Mayumi lived.

Below the eaves of the house was a pile of thick pine logs, each about twenty inches in diameter. On their near side, Mr. Hanawa was working. Wording might not be the right word for it, for there was a calm about him as he squat- ted there, as if it was his habit to be lost in quiet contemplation. From the slope there was a line of thick birches and oaks as a windbreak. The foliage of the trees, higher than the roof of the house, cut off the sunlight, making a cozy little spot just perfect for Mr. Hanawa to do simple tasks and to meditate.

Before Ikuo and Ogi approached him, Mr. Hanawa stood up, holding a wooden-handled tool with a metal Y at the end. At his feet in their canvas shoes, long stumps of finger-width-size roots lay scattered.