his own words not lasting as long as he had wanted them to. When he had said all he had prepared for his greeting, he was obliged, in spite of the awkwardness he felt, to be silent for lack of something to add. Taguchi took a cigarette from a box on the table and then pushed the box slightly toward Keitaro.
"I've heard," Taguchi began, "a bit about you from Ichizo. What kind of job is it you want?"
Actually Keitaro had nothing specific in mind. He had only thought about acquiring some considerable position, so he could answer only vaguely that he had "aspirations in all fields."
Taguchi burst out laughing. Good-humoredly he explained that even if one had fine recommendations, it was very difficult to obtain a good position right away with so many university graduates out looking for jobs nowadays. But this Keitaro had long known only too well without having Taguchi inform him of it as if it were a new fact.
"I'm prepared to do anything."
"Anything? Certainly you're not ready to punch tickets for the railway, are you?"
"Yes, yes I am. That's better than doing nothing. I'm honestly ready to take any job as long as it promises something for the future. It'll be a blessing just to be freed from the pain of doing nothing."
"If that's your idea, I'll try to find you something. Though it won't be soon, I'm afraid."
"Yes, please do. Only try me out—with something, say, in your house. No, that doesn't sound right. I mean, just let me do something personal for you."
"Are you ready to do even that?"
"Yes."
"Then maybe I will. You don't mind when?"
"No. In fact, the sooner the better."
Keitaro thus brought the interview to an end. His countenance was cheerful as he left Taguchi's house.
A few mild winter days ensued. From his third-floor window Keitaro looked out at the sky, trees, and tiled roofs, the pleasant thought occurring to him that the sun now gently warming nature in an orange tinge was streaming down upon the world just for him. He was convinced his recent interview would soon bring forth the desired result, so he spent his days waiting in eager expectation, imagining what strange shape it would take when it appeared before him.
When he had asked Taguchi for a position, he had meant for it to have in it something more than an ordinary applicant would want. Not only did he wish to do those duties required by a given profession, but he also expected from Taguchi something that, while temporary, would nevertheless be filled with excitement. It was characteristic of Keitaro to feel vaguely that if the shadow of success were to flit across his path, perhaps something peculiarly scintillating, something outside the range of common jobs, would abruptly be cast before him. Absorbed in such hopes, he spent the days basking in a sunlight he found beautiful.
In about four days Taguchi telephoned again. He had something he wanted Keitaro to do, but as it would cause too much trouble to have him come to his house and since speaking about it over the phone would take too much time and be even more troublesome, he had decided to send a special delivery letter in which Keitaro would be given all the particulars. Should there be anything in it Keitaro could not understand, all he had to do would be to ask Taguchi by phone. Keitaro was delighted, like someone who has hit on the right focus of the telescope, seeing clearly what had been seen but dimly before.
He remained at his desk, waiting for the letter and giving rein to his imagination. He found the figure of the woman he had seen from behind at Sunaga's gate apt to intrude into his thoughts without permission, whereupon he would suddenly become aware that he ought to be more practical; in such cases, he would, though for that moment only, rebuke his deviating fancy. And so the tantalizing hours passed.
At last the long-awaited letter reached him. He tore open the envelope, breathlessly read through from end to end of the rolled letter paper, and involuntarily uttered a
"I've heard," Taguchi began, "a bit about you from Ichizo. What kind of job is it you want?"
Actually Keitaro had nothing specific in mind. He had only thought about acquiring some considerable position, so he could answer only vaguely that he had "aspirations in all fields."
Taguchi burst out laughing. Good-humoredly he explained that even if one had fine recommendations, it was very difficult to obtain a good position right away with so many university graduates out looking for jobs nowadays. But this Keitaro had long known only too well without having Taguchi inform him of it as if it were a new fact.
"I'm prepared to do anything."
"Anything? Certainly you're not ready to punch tickets for the railway, are you?"
"Yes, yes I am. That's better than doing nothing. I'm honestly ready to take any job as long as it promises something for the future. It'll be a blessing just to be freed from the pain of doing nothing."
"If that's your idea, I'll try to find you something. Though it won't be soon, I'm afraid."
"Yes, please do. Only try me out—with something, say, in your house. No, that doesn't sound right. I mean, just let me do something personal for you."
"Are you ready to do even that?"
"Yes."
"Then maybe I will. You don't mind when?"
"No. In fact, the sooner the better."
Keitaro thus brought the interview to an end. His countenance was cheerful as he left Taguchi's house.
A few mild winter days ensued. From his third-floor window Keitaro looked out at the sky, trees, and tiled roofs, the pleasant thought occurring to him that the sun now gently warming nature in an orange tinge was streaming down upon the world just for him. He was convinced his recent interview would soon bring forth the desired result, so he spent his days waiting in eager expectation, imagining what strange shape it would take when it appeared before him.
When he had asked Taguchi for a position, he had meant for it to have in it something more than an ordinary applicant would want. Not only did he wish to do those duties required by a given profession, but he also expected from Taguchi something that, while temporary, would nevertheless be filled with excitement. It was characteristic of Keitaro to feel vaguely that if the shadow of success were to flit across his path, perhaps something peculiarly scintillating, something outside the range of common jobs, would abruptly be cast before him. Absorbed in such hopes, he spent the days basking in a sunlight he found beautiful.
In about four days Taguchi telephoned again. He had something he wanted Keitaro to do, but as it would cause too much trouble to have him come to his house and since speaking about it over the phone would take too much time and be even more troublesome, he had decided to send a special delivery letter in which Keitaro would be given all the particulars. Should there be anything in it Keitaro could not understand, all he had to do would be to ask Taguchi by phone. Keitaro was delighted, like someone who has hit on the right focus of the telescope, seeing clearly what had been seen but dimly before.
He remained at his desk, waiting for the letter and giving rein to his imagination. He found the figure of the woman he had seen from behind at Sunaga's gate apt to intrude into his thoughts without permission, whereupon he would suddenly become aware that he ought to be more practical; in such cases, he would, though for that moment only, rebuke his deviating fancy. And so the tantalizing hours passed.
At last the long-awaited letter reached him. He tore open the envelope, breathlessly read through from end to end of the rolled letter paper, and involuntarily uttered a
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