Perhaps she stops by the library and goes into your room. She knocks but there's no answer. The door's unlocked. She discovers you're no longer there. The bed's made, and all your things are gone. She wonders where you disappeared to. Perhaps she waits a while for you to come back, sitting at the desk, head in hands, gazing at Kafka on the Shore. Thinking of the past that's enveloped in that painting. But no matter how long she waits, you don't return. She finally gives up and leaves. She walks over to her Golf in the parking lot and starts the engine. The last thing you want is to let her leave like this. You want to hold her, and know what each and every movement of her body means. But you're not there. You're all alone, in a place cut off from everyone.

You climb into bed and turn off the light, hoping that she'll show up in this room. It doesn't have to be the real Miss Saeki-that fifteen-year-old girl would be fine. It doesn't matter what form she takes-a living spirit, an illusion-but you have to see her, have to have her beside you. Your brain is so full of her it's ready to burst, your body about to explode into pieces. Still, no matter how much you want her to be here, no matter how long you wait, she never appears. All you hear is the faint rustle of wind outside, birds softly cooing in the night. You hold your breath, staring off into the gloom. You listen to the wind, trying to read something into it, straining to catch a hint of what it might mean. But all that surrounds you are different shades of darkness. Finally, you give up, close your eyes, and fall asleep.

Hoshino looked up rental car agencies in the Yellow Pages, picked one at random, and phoned them. "I just need a car for a couple of days," he explained, "so an ordinary sedan's fine. Nothing too big, nothing that stands out."

"Maybe I shouldn't say this," the rental clerk said, "but since we only rent Mazdas, we don't have a single car that stands out. So rest assured."

"Great."

"How about a Familia? A very reliable car, and I swear nobody will notice it at all."

"Sounds good. The Familia it is." The rental agency was near the station, and Hoshino told them he'd be over in an hour to pick up the car.

He took a taxi over, showed them his credit card and license, then rented the car for two days. The white Familia parked in the lot was, as advertised, totally unobtrusive. Turn away from it for a moment and every memory of what it looked like vanished. A notable achievement in the field of anonymity.

Driving back to the apartment, Hoshino stopped at a bookstore and picked up maps of Takamatsu city and the Shikoku highway system. He popped into a CD shop nearby to see if they had a copy of Beethoven's Archduke Trio, but the little shop had only a small classical section and one cheap, discount-bin version of the piece. Not the Million-Dollar Trio, unfortunately, but Hoshino went ahead and paid his eight dollars.

Back in the apartment, a soothing fragrance filled the place. Nakata was bustling around the kitchen preparing some steamed daikon and deep-fried flat tofu. "I had nothing to do, so I made a few dishes," he explained.

"That's great," Hoshino said. "I've been eating out too much these days, and it'll be nice to have a home-cooked meal for a change. Oh, hey-I got the car. It's parked outside. Do you need it right away?"

"No, tomorrow would be fine. Nakata has to talk more with the stone today."

"Good idea. Talking things over is important. Whether you're talking with people, or things, or whatever, it's always better to discuss things. You know, when I'm driving trucks I often talk to the engine. You can hear all kinds of things if you listen closely."

"Nakata can't talk with engines, but it is important to discuss things."

"So how's it going with the stone? You able to communicate?"

"We're starting to."

"That's good. I was wondering-is the stone upset we brought it here?"

"No, not at all. As far as I can make out, the stone doesn't much care where it is."

"Whew-that's a relief," Hoshino sighed. "After all we've been through, if the stone turns on us we're up a creek."

Hoshino spent the afternoon listening to his new CD. The performance wasn't as spontaneous and memorable as the one he'd heard in the coffee shop. It was more restrained and steady, but overall not so bad. As he lay back on the couch and listened, the lovely melody got to him, the subtle convolutions of the fugue stirring up something deep inside.

If I'd listened to this music a week ago, he told himself, I wouldn't have understood the first thing about it-or even wanted to. But chance brought him to that little coffee shop, where he sank back in that comfortable chair, enjoyed the coffee, and listened to the music. And now look at me, he thought, I'm into Beethoven-can you believe it? A pretty amazing development.

He played the piece over and over, testing out his newfound appreciation for music. The CD contained a second Beethoven trio, the Ghost. Not such a bad piece, he thought, though the Archduke was definitely his favorite. More depth, he concluded. All the while, Nakata was off in a corner, facing the white stone and muttering. Occasionally he'd nod or scratch his head. Two men off in their own little worlds.

"Does the music bother you?" Hoshino asked him.

"No, it's fine. Music doesn't bother me. To me it's like the wind."

"The wind, huh?"

At six Nakata made dinner-grilled salmon and a salad, plus a number of little side dishes he'd concocted. Hoshino switched on the TV and watched the news to see if there were any developments in the murder case. But there wasn't a word about it. Just other news-a kidnapping of an infant girl, the usual Israeli and Palestinian reprisals, a massive traffic accident on a highway in western Japan, a carjacking ring headed by foreigners, some cabinet minister's stupid discriminatory remark, layoffs at companies in the communication industry. Not a single upbeat story.

The two of them sat at the table and ate their dinner.

"This is really good," Hoshino said. "You're quite a cook."

"Much obliged. But you're the first person I've ever cooked for."

"You're telling me you never eat with friends or relatives or anybody?"

"Nakata knew many cats, but what we eat is very different."

"Well, yeah," Hoshino said. "But, anyway, this is delicious. Especially the vegetables."

"I'm happy you like it. Nakata can't read, so sometimes I make some terrible mistakes in the kitchen. So I always use the same ingredients and cook things the same way. If I could read, I could make all kinds of different dishes."

"These are just fine."

"Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata said in a serious tone, sitting up straight.

"Yeah?"

"Not being able to read makes life tough."

"I imagine so," Hoshino said. "The commentary with this CD says Beethoven was deaf. He was a famous composer, the top pianist in Europe when he was young. But then one day, maybe because of illness, he started to go deaf. In the end he couldn't hear a thing. Pretty rough to be a composer who can't hear. You know what I mean?"

"I think so."

"A deaf composer's like a cook who's lost his sense of taste. A frog that's lost its webbed feet. A truck driver with his license revoked. That would throw anybody for a loop, don't you think? But Beethoven didn't let it get to him. Sure, he must have been a little depressed at first, but he didn't let misfortune get him down. It was like, Problem? What problem? He composed more than ever and came up with better music than anything he'd ever written. I really admire the guy. Like this Archduke Trio-he was nearly deaf when he wrote it, can you believe it? What I'm trying to say is, it must be tough on you not being able to read, but it's not the end of the world. You might not be able to read, but there are things only you can do. That's what you gotta focus on-your strengths. Like being able to talk with the stone."