To the Spring Equinox and Beyond Read Free Page B

himself. He was usually a quiet man with an easy, careless air about him. But as he drank one cup after another, his quietness took on an ardor, and his carelessness seemed to swell out larger and larger.
    "Now I'm equal to anything," he began bragging. "I wouldn't be the least bit worried if they fired me tomorrow." When he noticed Keitaro, who was a poor drinker, keeping him company by taking a sip every now and then as if he only just remembered the cup before him, Morimoto went on, "You really can't drink, can you, Tagawa-san? Strange, you don't like sake, and you love adventure. Yet all adventure begins with drink and ends with a woman."
    A few minutes before, he had been disparaging his past life as worthless. But now elated with drink, he changed radically and began talking big, a halo, as it were, reflecting back on himself. And most of his bragging was about his failures.
    "Why, my friend," he dared to say as if in defiance of Keitaro, "let me tell you—you're fresh from school and know nothing of the world yet. Let anyone display his M.A. or Ph.D. as much as he wants. I wouldn't be cowed in the least. I know better—I'm all practice and experience." He spoke in a challenging and rude way, as though he had completely forgotten the deep respect he had paid a moment earlier to education. But suddenly with a sigh as loud as a belch, he began to complain about his ignorance.
    "In a word, I've gotten along in this world like an ape. I flatter myself that I know ten times as much of the world as you do, yet I'm still bound to earthly passions. That's because of my ignorance, my total lack of education. Though you know, of course, an educated man wouldn't be allowed the kind of varied life I've had."
    Since Keitaro had for a while been looking upon Morimoto as if he were a pitiable pioneer, he had been listening to him with considerable attention. But whether or not it was the effect of the sake Keitaro had treated him to, Morimoto's talk, to his listener's regret, tended toward bombast and complaint rather than to those characteristic stories of his which usually excited in Keitaro a pure interest in listening. Keitaro eventually brought the drinking to an end, but Morimoto's talk still remained ungratifying. So Keitaro made some fresh tea and, offering the other a cup, said, "I always find stories of your experience quite interesting. Not only that, but they're profitable to someone as inexperienced as I am. So I'm grateful to you. But of all the things you've done, what do you think was the most exciting?"
    Morimoto, remaining silent, blew on the hot tea, his bloodshot eyes blinking a few times. "Well," he said at last after he emptied the deep cup, "looking back on those things I did, all of them seem both interesting and worthless at the same time, so I can't tell which is which. Now, when you say exciting, do you mean something with a woman in it?"
    "Not necessarily, but I have no objection to a woman's having something to do with it."
    "Now I see that you prefer such a story—but to be serious, Tagawa-san, whether exciting or not, I once had a life that seemed to me more carefree than any I know of in the world. Shall I tell you something to gossip about over tea?"
    Keitaro's response was immediate.
    "Then let me go to the toilet first," Morimoto said rising, "but I warn you—there's no woman involved. In fact, there are few human beings."
    With these words behind him, Morimoto left the room. Keitaro, his curiosity aroused, waited for him to return.

    Five minutes passed while he waited and then ten, but the adventurer failed to reappear. Getting impatient, Keitaro at last went down to the toilet, but Morimoto wasn't there. Just to make sure, he went upstairs again to try Morimoto's room. The shoji was open a few inches, and Morimoto was lying in the middle of the room, his head resting on one bent arm, his back toward the entrance. Keitaro called out two or three times, but the other gave no sign of moving.