“I don’t know what to do!”
The loud tones of the “Ode to Joy” were too distracting for Rintaro to think clearly. The music had become a fence surrounding the scholar, keeping his visitors at bay.
Rintaro wiped the sweat from his forehead, then closed his eyes, and lifted his right hand to his glasses frame. What would Grandpa have said in this situation?
He did his best to summon an image of his grandfather in his mind—the old man sitting in profile, lost in thought with his teacup tilted toward his mouth. His gentle eyes following the words on the page, his reading glasses glinting in the lamplight. Wrinkled fingers gently turning pages . . .
“Do you like the mountains, Rintaro?”
It seemed to come from somewhere deep inside Rintaro’s own head; the rich voice of his grandfather as he carefully prepared a pot of tea.
“The mountains, Rintaro.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never climbed one.”
Rintaro hadn’t bothered to answer properly, probably too engrossed in the book he was reading. His grandfather had smiled and sat down beside his grandson.
“Reading a book is a lot like climbing a mountain.”
“What do you mean?”
His curiosity piqued, Rintaro had finally looked up from his book. His grandfather wafted his teacup slowly under his nose as if savoring the aroma of the tea.
“Reading isn’t only for pleasure or entertainment. Sometimes you need to examine the same lines deeply, read the same sentences over again. Sometimes you sit there, head in hands, only progressing at a painstakingly slow pace. And the result of all this hard work and careful study is that suddenly you’re there and your field of vision expands. It’s like finding a great view at the end of a long climbing trail.”
Under the light of the old-fashioned lamp, Rintaro’s grandfather sipped at his tea, calm and self-assured, and looking just like the wise old wizard in some fantasy novel.
“Reading can be grueling.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled behind his reading glasses.
“Of course it’s good to enjoy reading. But the views you can see hiking on a light, pleasant walking trail are limited. Don’t condemn the mountain because its trails are steep. It’s also a valuable and enjoyable part of climbing to struggle up a mountain step by step.”
He reached out one thin, bony hand and placed it on the boy’s head.
“If you’re going to climb, make it a tall mountain. The view will be so much better.”
The voice was warm and comforting.
It surprised Rintaro that he had had such a conversation with his grandfather.
“Mr. Proprietor?”
At the sound of the tabby’s voice, Rintaro’s eyes flew open.
The first thing he noticed was that there was an obvious change in Sayo’s appearance. Her cheeks had lost their healthy glow, and her sparkling eyes, emptied of all vitality, were no more than reflections of the pallid neon lighting. The strange paleness of her complexion now matched the faces of the white-coated workers they’d seen on their way here.
The symphony was reaching its climax, and as if being sucked into the music, Sayo began to walk toward the scholar. Instinctively, Rintaro reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Her hand was ice cold, and her slight frame put up no resistance. It was horrifying. Rintaro winced at her frigid skin, but didn’t let go of her hand until he’d managed to lead her to a chair and sit her down.
“That’s not going to buy you much time, Mr. Proprietor.”
“I know.”