As the greenery grew more luxuriant, the several-times-a-week march of the Firefies through the woods grew harder to catch. Instead, every morn- ing, not too early, Kizu heard a flock of Japanese tits, sounding like a fall rain, fly over in search of food. On this particular day the sound was like a ripple through his fitful sleep.
The strangely realistic chair he'd seen in his dream was the one he'd seen being carefully transported in the light truck on his way back from the drive with Dr. Koga. He'd seen it later on, after it was installed, so all the details had been accurate.
The chair that Mrs. Tagawa, the barber's wife and the church's first new member after moving to this place, had brought along with her grade-school daughter was set up inside the chapel. In that makeshift barbershop she started off cutting Patron's hair and shaving him. For many years Patron had had all his tonsorial needs taken care of at a shop in Seijo, and he was pleased with the results at Mrs. Tagawa's hands. Patron found the barber chair comfort- able, even saying that when the church officially restarted that's where he wanted to sit to give his sermons.
Designated as the church's official barber, then, Mrs. Tagawa offered her services to all the male followers and, if they wished, to the female fol- lowers as well. So whenever the chapel wasn't in use, it did double duty as a barbershop.
The day after Kizu had the dream of the barber chair, he went over after lunch to check out how well the barbershop was doing. Mrs. Tagawa-Hisayo was her first name-was probably around her mid-thirties, and dressed in the mannish way you often saw women barbers dressed in the countryside.
A large old sofa set up between the piano and the barber chair was occupied by three gloomy-looking Technicians. In the next stall the daughter sat with a Hello Kitty notebook on her lap, perhaps noting down the order of those waiting for haircuts.
Kizu stopped by the office, where Dancer was working alone at her computer. Thinking he'd like to get a haircut, since he hadn't had one in a while, he asked her if he'd have to wait long for his turn. Dancer looked up at him, mouth open, no trace of a smile on her lusterless face.
"I'll check the appointment schedule. The Technicians are all well edu- cated, but there's a bit of a herd mentality at work. Once one of them gets a haircut they all follow suit."
Dancer's eyes gazed at Kizu from her yellow-ivory face. Kizu was si- lent, so once more she slowly began to speak.
"Did you know that Ikuo and I had a quarrel over his idea of having Patron model half nude for the triptych?"
Kizu found it strange that Dancer would be preoccupied all this time about her argument with Ikuo.
"Yes, I heard. I still don't have a definite plan about the third panel, but I had this fleeting vision in a dream that told me not to worry, it's all settled."
"I always thought Ikuo was more the type to stay quiet when he has an idea," Dancer said. "I imagine you've heard about the wound in Patron's body from Ikuo. I figured Ogi told Ikuo, which piqued his interest, and that's why he came up with this notion of Patron modeling nude. I couldn't say this in front of everybody, which is why our argument didn't go any- where. If Patron models as Ikuo wants him to, naturally it would be stupid to try to hide the wound anymore. It seems like, with the new church about to be launched, Ikuo wants to put Patron in a position where he can't retreat."
Kizu knew that lashing out at him was her way of getting rid of her gloomy feelings, but he couldn't imagine what she meant by a wound in Patron. He brought a chair over, sat down across from her, and urged her to tell him more. Realizing suddenly that Kizu didn't know anything, Dancer balked. Still, she mustered up a determined look. He was reminded of the dauntlessness she'd shown when he'd first seen her as a young dancing girl so many years ago.
"Ogi hasn't told you anything about it because he promised me not to. Still, if Ikuo knows about it he'd use the painting as pretext for break- ing that promise. In that case, I think it's better to speak of it myself.
"For a long time only Guide and I knew about the wound, but one day I got careless, and Ogi found out about it. Ogi must have let it slip to Ikuo, which led to his idea of having Patron model nude. If Patron agrees, there's nothing I can do about it. From the start he didn't plan to keep this a secret."
Irritated by how this was all coming out, Dancer closed her mouth, bit- ing down on her thin lips. Kizu found it pitiful to watch and turned toward the lake, the surface reflecting the white cloudy sky.
"They call it a Sacred Wound, don't they? The kind Saint Francis of Assisi had, just like Jesus' wounds when he was crucified."
Kizu remembered the word stigma, the word he often, for some strange reason, thought of, and the way he'd connected it with the stigma of the deli- cate dark red flower of the slippery elm… Watching the absentminded-looking Kizu, Dancer ignored her own rhetorical question and went on.
"On Patron's left side he has a gaping wound as if he's been pierced with a spear. Technically speaking it's not a wound but more like a hole in his side that never closes up, and at the bottom you can see the color of blood. When he's not feeling well, pus oozes out and dries in yellow strands. Right now, actually, pus is coming out. In the past his doctor would always prescribe antibiotics for him without his having to go to the hospital, and he was able to tough it out that way.
"But when we moved here I didn't think about it, and the day before yesterday I asked Dr. Koga to give us some antibiotics. But he told me that if Patron needed them he'd better examine him. That's what was bothering me and why I was so cross with Ikuo."
"So Dr. Koga doesn't know about Patron's wound?" Kizu asked.
"Guide and I were the only ones who knew. And then Ogi happened to see Patron in the bath once."
"Until the Somersault, though, Dr. Koga took care of Patron, so wouldn't he have noticed this wound?"
"If it's something that appeared after the Somersault, Dr. Koga wouldn't know about it, would he? Guide never told me when the wound first ap- peared, and I couldn't bring myself to ask Patron directly. But now with the church starting up again, pus is coming out and it scares me. The wound shouldn't have appeared after the Somersault, should it? When Patron was relating his visions and calling on people to repent there was no wound, but now, after the Somersault, there it is… Or maybe the wound is God's pun- ishment for the Somersault. That scares me, too."
Her skin flushed, the color so different from before, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes, glistening with tears, clung to Kizu. Kizu didn't feel like going where the overwrought Dancer's question led. He had to shift to a different question, one with a different answer.
From his experience running seminars, Kizu knew he had to divert Dancer from the question she'd raised. Instead, using some down-to-earth language he knew would sound dubious to this young woman, he said; "Let me ask Dr. Koga about getting some antibiotics. At my age I can't claim it's gonorrhea, but if I say I have some pus coming out of my urethra, I think he should give me the medicine to help Patron without insisting on examining me first."
Dancer looked blank for a moment, but was soon her old self again.
24: VIEWING THE SACRED WOUND
1
Kizu, however, didn't find the time to negotiate with Dr. Koga, for the day after he talked with Dancer the situation changed abruptly. Ogi was tak- ing care of things at the office, and Dancer had gone out to the dining hall for a late lunch when an anxious phone call came from Ms. Tachibana.
It was warm that day, almost summery, and Ms. Tachibana's call was not unconnected with this rise in temperature. Patron had had a fever since morning and couldn't get up, so Ms. Tachibana had brought him breakfast in bed. When she fetched his lunch, he had thrown off his covers because of his fever and the hot weather, and the upper half of his body lay exposed. But what threw her into a panic was Morio, curled up at the side of the bed at Patron's legs, with yellow pus covering both eyes, one ear, and his nose and mouth.