“Huh? You mean, the thoughts in our heads can turn into living beings?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“Well, that’s a rather extreme suggestion.”
“It is indeed, but similar ideas have been propounded since before the time of Christ. I suppose you could just look at it as a different theory of life.”
Having said this much, Ryuji suddenly seemed to lose interest in the conversation, returning his gaze to the map.
Asakawa understood what Ryuji was saying, most of it anyway, but it didn’t sit very well with him. We may not be able to scientifically explain what we’re facing. But it’s real, and because it’s real we have to face it as a real phenomenon and deal with it as such, even if we don’t understand its cause or effect. What we need to concentrate on right now is figuring out the riddle of the charm and saving our own asses, not unlocking all the secrets of the supernatural. Ryuji might have some good points. But what Asakawa really needed from him were clearer answers.
The farther out to sea they went the worse the motion of the boat, and Asakawa began to worry he’d get seasick. The more he thought about it the more he thought he felt an unsettled feeling in his chest. Ryuji, who had been nodding off, suddenly raised his head and looked outside. The sea was throwing up dark gray waves, and in the distance they could see the dim shadow of an island.
“You know, Asakawa, something’s worrying me.”
“What?”
“The four kids who stayed at the log cabin. Why didn’t they try to carry out the charm?”
That again.
“Isn’t it obvious? They didn’t believe the video.”
“Well, that’s what I thought. It explains why they pulled a prank like erasing the charm. But I was just remembering a trip I took with the track team back in high school. In the middle of the night, Saito comes bursting into the room. You remember Saito, right? Kind of not quite all there. There were twelve of us on the team, and we were all sleeping together in one room. And that idiot comes running in, teeth chattering, and screams, ‘I’ve seen a ghost!’ He opened the bathroom door and saw a little girl crouched behind the trash can by the sink—she was crying. Now, aside from me, how do you think the other ten guys reacted to this?”
“They probably half believed and half laughed it off.”
Ryuji shook his head. “That’s how it’d work in a horror movie, or on TV. At first no one takes it seriously, and then one by one, they’re picked off by the monster, right? But it’s different in real life. Every single one of them, without exception, believed him. All ten of them. And not because all ten of them were especially chicken, either. You could try it on any group of people and get the same results. A fundamental sense of terror is built into us humans, on the instinctual level.”
“So what you’re saying is, it’s strange that those four didn’t believe the video.”
As he listened to Ryuji’s story, Asakawa was recalling the face of his daughter, crying from seeing the demon mask. He remembered how puzzled he’d been—how had she known the demon mask was supposed to be scary?
“Hmm. Well, the scenes on that video don’t tell a story, and they’re not all that frightening to just look at. So I suppose it’s possible to disbelieve it. But weren’t they at least bothered, those four? What would you do? If you were told that carrying out a charm would save your life, even if you didn’t believe in it, wouldn’t you feel you ought to give it a try anyway? I would have expected at least one of them to break rank. I mean, even if he or she insisted on putting on a brave face in front of the others, he or she could always perform the charm in secret after getting back to Tokyo.”
Asakawa’s bad feeling grew stronger. He had actually wondered the same thing himself. What if the charm turns out to be something impossible?
“So maybe it was something they couldn’t carry out, and so they convinced themselves they didn’t believe it anyway …” An example occurred to Asakawa. What if a woman who had been murdered left a message in the world of the living in an effort to get someone else to avenge her, so that she could be at peace?
“Heh, heh. I know what you’re thinking. What would you do if that turned out to be the case?”
Asakawa asked himself: if the charm included a command to kill someone, would he be able to do it? Would he be able to kill a perfect stranger to save his own life? But what worried him more was, if it came to that, who would be the one to carry out the charm? He shook his head furiously. Stop thinking such stupid things. All he could do at the moment was pray that this Sadako Yamamura person’s desire was something that anybody could fulfill.
The outlines of the island were becoming clearer; the wharf at Motomachi Harbor was slowly coming into view.
“Listen, Ryuji. I have a favor to ask.” Asakawa spoke fervently.
“What’s that?”
“If I don’t make it in time … that is …” Asakawa couldn’t bring himself to say the word “die.” “If you figure out the charm the very next day, could you … Well, there’s my wife and daughter …”
Ryuji cut in. “Of course. Leave it to me. I’ll be responsible for saving wifey and babykins.”
Asakawa took out one of his business cards and wrote a phone number on the back. “I’m going to send them to her parents’ house in Ashikaga until we solve this thing. This is the number there. I’m going to give it to you now, before I forget.”
Ryuji put the card in his pocket without even glancing at it.
Just then came the announcement that the ship had docked at Motomachi on Oshima Island. Asakawa intended to call home from the waterfront and convince his wife to go home to her parents’ for a while. He didn’t know when he’d get back to Tokyo. Who knew? Time might run out for him here on Oshima. He couldn’t stand the thought of his family alone and terrified in their little condo.
As they walked down the gangway, Ryuji asked: “Hey, Asakawa. Do a wife and kid really mean that much?”
It was a very un-Ryuji-like question. Asakawa couldn’t help but laugh as he replied, “You’ll find out, one of these days.”
But Asakawa didn’t really think Ryuji was capable of starting a normal family.
The wind was stronger here on the pier at Oshima than it had been on the wharf at Atami. Overhead the clouds were scurrying from west to east, while underfoot the concrete jetty shook with the force of waves breaking against it. The rain wasn’t falling that hard, but the raindrops, borne by the wind, were hitting Asakawa’s face head-on. Neither of them had umbrellas. They jammed their hands into their pockets and hunched forward as they walked quickly along the pier over the ocean.
Islanders holding placards for car-rental companies or banners for inns were there to greet the tourists. Asakawa lifted his head and looked for the person who was supposed to meet them. Before getting on the boat at the harbor in Atami, Asakawa had contacted his office and asked for the phone number of the Oshima office, ultimately enlisting the help of a correspondent named Hayatsu. None of the national news organizations had full-fledged bureaus on Oshima; instead they hired locals as stringers. These correspondents kept an eye on island doings, watching for any noteworthy incidents or interesting episodes and reporting them to the main office; they were also responsible for assisting any reporters dispatched to the island on stories. Hayatsu had worked for the Daily News before retiring here to Oshima. His territory included not just Oshima itself but