The sun is soon setting…

And Hoshino's stomach is growling.

Driving round and round sets my head spinning.

They went back to the apartment at six.

"Let's continue tomorrow," Nakata said.

"We covered a lot of territory today. We can probably finish up the whole city tomorrow," Hoshino said. "Hey-I got a question for you."

"And what might that be?"

"If you don't find what you're looking for in Takamatsu, then what?"

Nakata gave his head a good rub. "If we can't find it in Takamatsu, then we'll have to look farther out."

"And if you still can't find it, then what're we supposed to do?"

"If that happens, then we have to search even more."

"We'll just make bigger and bigger circles and eventually we'll find it. Like the saying goes, if a dog walks on, it's bound to bump into a stick."

"Yes, I think that will happen," Nakata said. "But Nakata doesn't understand. Why does a dog have to hit a stick if it walks? If there's a stick in front of it, the dog can go around it."

Hoshino puzzled this over. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I never thought about it before…"

"It's very strange."

"Let's put the dog and the stick aside for a minute, okay?" Hoshino said. "That only complicates things. What I want to know is how far are we going to search? If we don't watch out, before we know it we'll wind up in another prefecture-Ehime or Kochi or someplace. Summer will be over and it'll be fall by then."

"That may well be. But I have to find it, even if it's fall or winter. I know I can't ask you to help me forever. Nakata will just walk alone and keep on searching."

"Let's not worry about that for right now," Hoshino stammered. "But can't the stone be a pal and give us a hint or something? Even an approximate location would help."

"Nakata's very sorry, but the stone doesn't say much."

"Yeah, it doesn't strike me as the talkative type," Hoshino said. "I don't imagine it's much good at swimming, either. Whatever… We don't need to think about it now. Let's get a good night's sleep and see what tomorrow brings."

The next day it was the same routine, with Hoshino this time circling the western half of the city. By now his city map was full of yellow lines. Only the increased number of yawns coming from the driver set this day apart from the previous one. Nakata kept his face plastered against the window, intently studying the passing scenery, and they hardly spoke. Whatever Nakata was looking for, he didn't find it.

"Would today be Monday?" Nakata asked.

"Yup. Yesterday was Sunday, so today's Monday," Hoshino said. Then, almost in desperation, he made up a melody to some words that popped into his head: If today is Monday, tomorrow must be Tuesday.

Ants are hard workers, swallows like to dress up.

The chimney's tall, the setting sun red.

"Mr. Hoshino," Nakata said after a while.

"Yeah?"

"You can look at ants working for a long time and never tire of it."

"I suppose you're right," Hoshino replied.

At noon they stopped by a restaurant specializing in eel and ordered the lunch special, a bowl of rice topped with eel. At three they went to a coffee shop, where Hoshino had coffee, Nakata kelp tea. By six p. m. the map was a mass of yellow marks, the anonymous tires of the Familia having traversed every square inch of road in the city. But still no luck.

What are you searching for? Hoshino sang again in a listless voice: Haven't you found it yet? / We've gone everywhere in town. / My butt's aching, so can't we go home?

After he finished, he said, "We keep this up much longer, I'll turn into a regular singer-songwriter," Hoshino said.

"What would that be?" Nakata asked.

"Never mind. Just a harmless joke."

Calling it a day, they left the city, got on the highway, and headed back to the apartment. Lost in thought, Hoshino failed to turn left when he should. He tried to get back on the highway, but the road curved off at a strange angle into a maze of one-way streets and he was soon totally lost. Before he realized it they were in a residential area they'd never seen before, an old-looking, elegant neighborhood with high walls surrounding the homes. The road was strangely quiet, with not a soul in sight.

"I don't think we're too far from our apartment, but I have no idea where we are," Hoshino admitted. He parked the car in an empty lot, cut the engine, set the parking brake, and spread out his map. He checked the name of the neighborhood and street number on a nearby lightpole and looked for it on the map. Maybe his eyes were too tired, but he couldn't find it.

"Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, but what does it say on that sign over there on that gate?"

Hoshino looked up from his map and glanced where Nakata was pointing, down a high wall with an old-fashioned gate, and next to it a large wooden sign. The black gate was shut tight. "Komura Memorial Library," Hoshino read. "Huh, a library in this deserted part of town? Doesn't even look like a library. More like an old mansion."

"Ko-mu-ra-Me-mori-al-Li-bra-ry?"

"You got it. Must be made to commemorate somebody named Komura. Who this Komura guy is, though, I have no idea."

"Mr. Hoshino?"

"Yup?"

"That's it."

"What do you mean-that?"

"The place Nakata's been searching for."

Hoshino looked up from his map again and gazed into Nakata's eyes. He frowned, looked at the sign, and slowly read it again. He patted a Marlboro out of the box, put it between his lips, and lit it with his plastic lighter. He slowly inhaled, then blew smoke out the open window. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, this is it."

"Chance is a scary thing, isn't it?" Hoshino said.

"It certainly is," Nakata agreed.

My second day on the mountain passes by leisurely, seamlessly. The only thing that distinguishes one day from the next is the weather. If the weather was the same I couldn't tell one day from another. Yesterday, today, tomorrow-they'd all blur into one. Like an anchorless ship, time floats aimlessly across the broad sea.

I do the math and come up with today as Tuesday. The day Miss Saeki gives a tour of the library, provided there are any people who want to take it. Just like the very first day I came to the place… Spike heels clicking on the stairs, she walks up to the second floor, the sound reverberating through the stillness. Her glistening stockings, bright white blouse, tiny pearl earrings, her Mont Blanc pen on top of her desk. Her calm smile, tinged with the long shadow of resignation. All these details seem so far away now-and no longer real.

Sitting on the sofa in the cabin, the odor of the faded fabric all around me, memories of our lovemaking rise up in my head. Miss Saeki slowly removing her clothes, getting into bed. My cock, not surprisingly, is rock hard as these thoughts filter through my mind, but the tip's not red or sore anymore and doesn't sting.

Tiring of these sexual fantasies, I wander outside and go into my usual exercise routine. I hang on to the porch railing and go through an ab workout. Then I do some quick squats, followed by hard stretching. By this time I'm covered in sweat, so I wet my towel in the stream and wipe myself off. The cold water helps calm my nerves. I sit down on the porch and listen to Radiohead on my Walkman. Since I ran away I've been listening to the same music over and over-Radiohead's Kid A, Prince's Very Best of. Sometimes Coltrane's My Favorite Things.

At two p.m.-just when the library tour is starting-I head out into the forest. I follow the same path, walk for a while, and arrive at the clearing. I sit down on the grass, lean back against a tree trunk, and gaze up at the round opening of sky through the branches. The edges of white summer clouds are visible. Up to this point, I'm safe. I can find my way back to the cabin. A maze for beginners-if this were a video game I've easily cleared Level 1. If I go any farther, though, I'll enter a more elaborate, more challenging labyrinth. The path gets narrower and I'll get swallowed up by the sea of ferns.