kafka-24grammata.com-free-e-book.-pdf

that is. If I were a shadow, I know I wouldn't like to be half of what I should
be."
"I understand," Nakata said. "You may well be right. Nakata's never thought
about it. I'll think about it more after I get home."
"An excellent idea."
The two of them were silent for a while. Nakata quietly stood up, carefully
brushing away stray bits of grass from his trousers, and put on his threadbare
hat. He adjusted it a few times, until he got the angle just right. He shouldered
his canvas bag and said, "Thank you very kindly. Nakata really values your
opinions, Mr. Otsuka. I hope you stay happy and well."
"You too."
After Nakata left, Otsuka lay down again in the grass and closed his eyes.
There was still some time before the clouds would come and the rain would start.
His mind a blank, he fell asleep for a short nap.
Chapter 7
At seven-fifteen I eat breakfast in the restaurant next to the lobby--toast, hot
milk, ham and eggs. But this free hotel breakfast doesn't come close to filling me
up. The food's all gone before I realize it, and I'm still hungry. I look around,
and seconds on toast don't seem likely to materialize. I let out a big sigh.
"Well, what are you gonna do?" the boy named Crow says.
He's sitting right across from me.
"You're not back home anymore, where you can stuff yourself with whatever
you like," he says. "I mean, you've run away from home, right? Get that through
your head. You're used to getting up early and eating a huge breakfast, but those
days are long gone, my friend. You'll have to scrape by on what they give you. You
know what they say about how the size of your stomach can adjust to the amount of
food you eat? Well, you're about to see if that's really true. Your stomach's
gonna get smaller, though that'll take some time. Think you can handle it?"
"Yeah, I can handle it," I reply.
"Good," Crow tells me. "You're supposed to be the toughest fifteen-year-old
on the planet, remember?"
I give him a nod.
"Well, then, how about you stop staring at your empty plate and get a move
on?"
Following this advice, I stand up and go to the front desk to negotiate over
the price of my room. I explain I'm a student at a private high school in Tokyo
and have come here to write my graduation paper. (Which isn't a total lie, since
the high school affiliated with my school has this kind of setup.) I add that I'm
collecting materials for the paper at the Komura Memorial Library. There's much
more to research than I'd imagined, so I'll have to stay at least a week in
Takamatsu. But since I'm on a budget, would the discounted room rate be possible
not just for three days, but for the whole time I'm here? I offer to pay each day
in advance, and promise not to cause any trouble.
I stand there in front of the girl in charge, trying to do my best imitation
of a nice, well-brought-up young man who's in a tight spot. No dyed hair for me,
no piercings. I have on a clean white Ralph Lauren polo shirt, chinos, and a pair
of brand-new Topsiders. My teeth are gleaming and I smell like soap and shampoo. I
know how to speak politely. When I feel like it, I'm pretty good at impressing
people older than me.
The girl listens silently, nodding, her lips slightly twisted up. She's
petite, and wearing a green uniform blazer over a white blouse. She looks a little
sleepy, but goes about her morning duties briskly. She's about the same age as my
sister.
"I understand," she says, "but I have to clear it with the manager. We