Mandarins Read Free

a cloud would sometimes pass swiftly by. With cigarettes dangling from our lips, we paused to gaze in silence at the incoming waves.
    â€œHave you been offered that teaching position?” asked M suddenly.
    â€œNot yet. What about you?”
    â€œI? I, well . . .”
    As he started to speak, we were startled by laughter and the thud, thud, thud of footsteps. They belonged to two girls of similar age, in swimming suits and caps. They passed us with an indifference bordering on insolence, running straight toward the water. The suit of the one was scarlet, that of the other a tigerlike blend of black and yellow. Our eyes followed these happy, fleeting figures, as the two of us simultaneously found ourselves smiling, as though on cue.
    â€œSo they haven’t left yet . . .”
    For all his air of irony, there was something in his voice that betrayed a touch of emotion.
    â€œWell then, are you going to back for another dip after all?”
    â€œI don’t know. I might if she were by herself. But she’s with Singesi . . .”
    As with the Charmer, we had given the girl in the black-and-yellow suit a name—for her sinnliches Gesicht . 2
    Neither of us found the girl easy to like. And neither did we find the other one . . . No, M felt a certain interest . . . And he had no qualms about making such self-seeking suggestions as: “You take Singesi; I’ll take her friend.”
    â€œGo ahead. Take a swim for her sake!”
    â€œYes, such a display of self-sacrifice! But she’s perfectly aware that she’s being watched.”
    â€œBut why not?”
    â€œWell, it does rankle a bit . . .”
    Hand in hand, they were already in the water. Wave after wave sent foam and spray swirling toward their feet, but each time they invariably jumped, as though anxious not to get wet. It was a blithe and brilliant picture, a strange contrast to the desolate beach in the lingering heat of summer, a beauty indeed belonging less to the realm of humans than to that of butterflies. We listened to the sound of their wind-borne laughter and watched them as they waded away from shore.
    â€œYou have to admire them for their pluck!”
    â€œThe water’s not yet over their heads.”
    â€œNo, they’re already . . . No, no, they’re still standing.”
    They had long since released their hands and were moving separately out to sea. The girl in the scarlet suit had been swimming briskly onward when she suddenly stopped in the water, which came up to her breasts, and beckoned to the other, crying out in a piercing voice. Even encased in her enormous cap and at this distance, her vibrantly smiling face could still be seen.
    â€œJellyfish?”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    Yet they went on, one behind the other, paddling ever farther into the offing. When the two dots that were their swimming caps became all that we could still see of them, we got up at last from the sand. We hardly spoke, for now we were getting hungry, and ambled back to the inn.
3
    . . . Even the twilight was as cool as in autumn. When we had finished supper, we went again to the beach, this time in the company of our friend H, who was home for a holiday visit, and N-san, the young proprietor of the inn. We had not intended to go out for a walk together, but as it happened H and N-san each had errands to run, H to visit his uncle in a nearby village, N-san to go there himself to order a chicken coop from the local basket-maker.
    The way to the village led across the shore, around the base of a high dune, and then continued on, the swimming area directly behind us. The dune naturally blocked any view of the ocean, and even the roar of the waves was muffled. There were nonetheless sparse patches of weeds, their black spikes poking out of the sand, and a sea breeze was still ceaselessly blowing.
    â€œThe plants here are not very much like sand sedge. Do you know what they call them, N-san?”
    I plucked a clump that