barely long enough to encircle it, restrained him. As he watched, she brought her foot down again. Her leg moved back up, then descended sharply.
She reached down and lifted the dog from the toilet. Shit and blood and foam dripped from the end of its muzzle and the corners of its wide dead empty eyes. Hidemi threw it on the floor and untied its legs, then put on her underwear again.
— Let’s go get ice cream, she said.
— From where? he asked. He felt as if he had been startled out of a dream.
— They sell some in the park.
She put on her pants and picked up the dog. There was a rubbish bin next to the sinks, and, after removing its lid, she tossed the dog inside. The furry wet corpse made a soft impact against a pile of used paper towels.
Outside, the sun had left the sky. An afternoon haze settled over the park. The dull roar of far-off traffic mingled with the sound of wind and birds.
— You know this place better than I do, he said. Show me where it is.
He wanted her to respond, but she only led him away from the toilets, still holding him by the wrist. They came to a hot-dog caravan and she bought a chocolate ice cream cone. He didn’t feel like eating anything, so he sat beside her on the grass. She held her ice cream with both hands, licked it, bit off chunks of the cone.
He felt he had to say something, but nothing came to mind. He leaned over and kissed her. She didn’t respond, so he kissed her again and pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasted spit and chocolate and pressed past the wall of teeth that sat stained and crooked in her child’s smile, felt the prick of a sharklike incisor and then her tongue lying slack also; he pulled back and kissed her again, taking in the curled lips and ruined teeth offsetting the perfect composition of her oval face and the way her eyes narrowed to slits when she kissed, so that the black line of her lashes smiled at him even as her lips curled.
She broke off and said:
— I want to get more ice cream.
Her cone was only half-finished but she got up and returned to the caravan. A moment later she came back with another cone, this one topped with a cool green mound of chocolate mint. There was still chocolate smeared around the edges of her mouth as her dark pink tongue moved across the top of the fresh cone.
He felt he had to say something, but nothing came to mind. Finally he said:
— When we were watching it die, I think we really shared something. We were alive, I mean.
Hidemi looked bored.
•
The next time he saw her he was carrying a sheaf of manuscript pages. He handed them to her and she paged through them for a while.
— This is the story I was telling you about, he said.
Hidemi looked away.
— Yeah, he said. It’s another dream I had, about this fox that turns into a girl. I guess it’s more like an outline, there’s not much description. I mean, I think technical proficiency is a waste of time. You can spend your whole life learning to write or draw everything perfectly and it won’t mean anything if you’re not saying anything new. What’s the point of life if you don’t have any ideas?
— I don’t know, Hidemi said.
She began to cry.
— It’s not that bad, is it?
She looked away and covered her face. He tried to touch her but she pushed his hand away. Sparrows sang in the trees. The grass must have been cut recently because he could smell a ripe dampness.
— I’m scared of trees, she said. I don’t like being outside.
— You’re outside all the time. The only time I see you is in this park.
He reached down, plucked a blade of grass, and tore it in two like a ribbon. He tried to kiss her eyes but she pushed him away.
He sat beside her in silence. After a time the sound of sparrows stopped.
— Do you think I’m a real person? Hidemi said.
— What? I’m going to the bathroom, he said. I’ll be back.
It was all he could do to get away from her. He didn’t know what she was talking about, and her tone of voice
She reached down and lifted the dog from the toilet. Shit and blood and foam dripped from the end of its muzzle and the corners of its wide dead empty eyes. Hidemi threw it on the floor and untied its legs, then put on her underwear again.
— Let’s go get ice cream, she said.
— From where? he asked. He felt as if he had been startled out of a dream.
— They sell some in the park.
She put on her pants and picked up the dog. There was a rubbish bin next to the sinks, and, after removing its lid, she tossed the dog inside. The furry wet corpse made a soft impact against a pile of used paper towels.
Outside, the sun had left the sky. An afternoon haze settled over the park. The dull roar of far-off traffic mingled with the sound of wind and birds.
— You know this place better than I do, he said. Show me where it is.
He wanted her to respond, but she only led him away from the toilets, still holding him by the wrist. They came to a hot-dog caravan and she bought a chocolate ice cream cone. He didn’t feel like eating anything, so he sat beside her on the grass. She held her ice cream with both hands, licked it, bit off chunks of the cone.
He felt he had to say something, but nothing came to mind. He leaned over and kissed her. She didn’t respond, so he kissed her again and pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasted spit and chocolate and pressed past the wall of teeth that sat stained and crooked in her child’s smile, felt the prick of a sharklike incisor and then her tongue lying slack also; he pulled back and kissed her again, taking in the curled lips and ruined teeth offsetting the perfect composition of her oval face and the way her eyes narrowed to slits when she kissed, so that the black line of her lashes smiled at him even as her lips curled.
She broke off and said:
— I want to get more ice cream.
Her cone was only half-finished but she got up and returned to the caravan. A moment later she came back with another cone, this one topped with a cool green mound of chocolate mint. There was still chocolate smeared around the edges of her mouth as her dark pink tongue moved across the top of the fresh cone.
He felt he had to say something, but nothing came to mind. Finally he said:
— When we were watching it die, I think we really shared something. We were alive, I mean.
Hidemi looked bored.
•
The next time he saw her he was carrying a sheaf of manuscript pages. He handed them to her and she paged through them for a while.
— This is the story I was telling you about, he said.
Hidemi looked away.
— Yeah, he said. It’s another dream I had, about this fox that turns into a girl. I guess it’s more like an outline, there’s not much description. I mean, I think technical proficiency is a waste of time. You can spend your whole life learning to write or draw everything perfectly and it won’t mean anything if you’re not saying anything new. What’s the point of life if you don’t have any ideas?
— I don’t know, Hidemi said.
She began to cry.
— It’s not that bad, is it?
She looked away and covered her face. He tried to touch her but she pushed his hand away. Sparrows sang in the trees. The grass must have been cut recently because he could smell a ripe dampness.
— I’m scared of trees, she said. I don’t like being outside.
— You’re outside all the time. The only time I see you is in this park.
He reached down, plucked a blade of grass, and tore it in two like a ribbon. He tried to kiss her eyes but she pushed him away.
He sat beside her in silence. After a time the sound of sparrows stopped.
— Do you think I’m a real person? Hidemi said.
— What? I’m going to the bathroom, he said. I’ll be back.
It was all he could do to get away from her. He didn’t know what she was talking about, and her tone of voice
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