Return to Hiroshima

Начало книги

In the diffident light of a fading moon, I descend the path to the wooden pier, exhausted somehow by the incessant boom of the surf. On my right, massive waves crash against the concrete wall that surrounds this part of Hashima Island. Every few meters of my descent, I look over my shoulder. A lifetime of shadows and fears has sensitised me to presences. I can’t help wondering if Rokurobei knows that his minions call him the Serpent’s Neck, behind his back. Me, they call majo, the giant witch. They fear me, but I know that majo is no match for the serpent’s neck. I have the feeling that Rokurobei will materialize at any moment from behind the weathered concrete blocks next to the pier. I have apologies and lies at the ready, but will they suffice to slake his wrath?

The ship is waiting as I had commanded. Rokurobei tends to use burakumin as his servants, those of unclean descent. This is to my advantage. The captain wouldn’t dare question my orders. Recently, during daytime, I walked to the shore with a book in my hand. I’d told Rokurobei that I liked to read with the roar of the water in the background. I closed my eyes intermittently as I descended, to imitate the darkness that would confound my escape.

Читать дальше →