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

Did it? "I don't know. But if I get married someday I don't think I'll have
any kids. I wouldn't have any idea how to get along with them if I did."
"My situation wasn't as complicated as yours," she says, "but I didn't get
along with my folks for a long time, and I got mixed up in a lot of stupid things
because of it. So I know how you feel. But it's not a good idea to make decisions
so soon. There's no such thing as absolutes."
She stands in front of the kitchen stove and sips her Nescaf , steam rising
from the large cup. The cup has a drawing of the Moomin cartoon characters on it.
She doesn't say anything, and neither do I.
"Do you have anybody, relatives or someone, who can help?" she asks after a
while.
"No," I say. "My father's parents died a long time ago, and he doesn't have
any brothers, sisters, uncles, or aunts. Not a one. Not that I can prove this. But
I do know he never had anything to do with any relatives. And I never heard
anything about relatives on my mother's side. I mean, I don't even know my
mother's name--so how was I supposed to know about her relatives?"
"Your father sounds like an alien from outer space or something," Sakura
says. "Like he came from some far-off planet, took on human form, kidnapped an
Earth woman, and then had you. Just so he could have more descendants. Your mother
found out, got frightened, and ran away. Like in some film noir science-fiction
flick."
I have no idea what to say.
"All joking aside," she says, and smiles broadly to show that she means it,
"my point is, in this whole wide world the only person you can depend on is you."
"I guess so."
She stands there leaning against the sink, drinking her coffee.
"I have to get some sleep," she says, as if suddenly remembering. It's past
three. "I have to get up at seven-thirty so I won't get much, but a little's
better than none. I hate going to work on no sleep at all. So what're you going to
do?"
"I have my sleeping bag with me," I tell her, "so if it's no bother I'll
just sack out in a corner." I take my tightly rolled-up sleeping bag out of my
backpack, spread it out, and fluff it up.
She watches, impressed. "A regular Boy Scout," she says.
After she turns out the light and gets in bed, I climb into my sleeping bag,
shut my eyes, and try to go to sleep. But I can't stop picturing that bloody white
T-shirt. I still feel that burning sensation in my palm. I open my eyes and stare
at the ceiling. A floor creaks somewhere. Somebody turns on a faucet. And again I
hear an ambulance in the night, far off but echoing sharply in the darkness.
"Can't fall asleep?" she whispers in the dark.
"No," I say.
"Me neither. Shouldn't have had that coffee. That was dumb." She switches on
her bedside light, checks the time, then turns the light off. "Don't get me
wrong," she says, "but if you'd like to come over here you can. I can't get to
sleep either."
I slip out of my sleeping bag and climb in bed with her. I'm wearing boxers
and the T-shirt. She has on a pair of light pink pajamas.
"I have a steady boyfriend in Tokyo," she tells me. "He's not much to brag
about, but he's my guy. So I don't have sex with anybody else. I might not look
like it, but when it comes to sex I'm pretty straightlaced. Call me old-fashioned.
I wasn't always that way--I used to be pretty wild--but I don't fool around
anymore. So don't get any ideas, okay? Just think of us as brother and sister. You
understand?"
"Gotcha," I tell her.
She puts her arms around me, hugs me close, and rests her cheek on my
forehead. "You poor thing," she says.
I don't need to tell you that I get a hard-on right away. Big time. And it
couldn't help rubbing up against her thigh.