CHAPTER 4

    Without managing a single coherent thought, I passed a wasted afternoon carrying loads at the docks. The heat was not as intense as it had been back at the beach, but the condition of my exhausted body combined with the meditative silence in my brain lead to hallucinations: I felt as if I were on the playing field at the height of summer, training by running from one base to the next. I wasn''t sixteen yet; in the third year of middle school, I was still on the school team. I hadn''t been thrown off the team for letting the coach have it. Along with my underclassmen teammates, I spent my last baseball season of middle school full of enthusiasm. We lost in the semi-finals of the state championship in a close game. And even though I was only a pinch hitter, I howled with disappointment. But of course that kind of summer was just a dream.

    In reality, I had punched the coach and left the team before summer vacation. After that I began my life as an ordinary upperclassman. I kept myself away from baseball and tried very hard not to even think about it. I couldn''t let go of it emotionally, though; it was miserable.

    If I''d only held my anger in check back then, I''d probably be a rookie player on the high school baseball team now. And maybe, if I''d spent every day in training since the early spring, from dusk till dawn, maybe I would never have been flushed away to this world in the first place? Then I also wouldn''t have this fear for my friends'' lives, and the terrible worries of a foreign country wouldn''t rob me of sleep at night.

    "Shibuya!"

    "Hm? What is it?"

    "We''ve got to get in line! Otherwise we won''t get paid."

    As I came back to myself, I realized the temperature had fallen. The gently swaying waves mirrored an impressive sunset. The sea was dowsed with orange light; the heavens glowed purple.

    We took the money we were due from the work we''d accomplished and secured ourselves some new clothing. We also bought undershirts and jackets so we''d be prepared for the sudden cold that could come after sundown.

    The harbor workers were freed from their identical work uniforms. Some carried groceries home, others streamed into the same restaurant from lunch. Presumably it served as a bar in the evenings. Turning our backs to the harbor, Murata and I set off down a street paved with large stones. Houses with faded yellow paint were lined up one after the other to either side of us. In front of the entryways, skinny kids and dogs sat on stone steps. To my relief, they did give the impression of being healthy.

    "Excuse me, where can we find the Japanese consulate?" Murata asked the residents over and over, but no one could help him. No wonder, since there was no Japanese consulate in this country -- there wasn''t even a country called Japan in this world!

    With a heavy heart, I waited for the right moment to let the cat out of the bag.

    "Man, there really doesn''t seem to be a Japanese consulate here at all! But we are in a small town that I''ve never seen on any map before. Makes sense that there''s no Japanese community here. It doesn''t matter, we''ll just have to look for protection from another country. America, England, Germany, whatever."

    "I have to tell you something, Murata."

    "Hmm?"

    "Don''t take it too hard if we don''t find any help at all in the end."

    Murata snorted. "That''s coming from you? You''re the one that''s been moping around the entire time. Okay, so they''re not going to throw us a welcome party, but at least they could notify the Japanese officials. And if not, we''ll just have to take matters into our own hands. They would surely have to let us make one telephone call."