The Firefly manning the oars in Ikuo's bow rowed strongly, the prow of the boat running up onto the shoreline of the island, a meadow inundated with water. The rower stepped into the water up to his knees and held the boat steady. Ikuo plunged decisively out of the boat and with the momentum of the landing ran toward the giant cypress, his head bent forward. He came face-to-face with the giant doll of Guide, standing behind the bamboo lad- der and the wood frame it was leaning against.
"Isn't he telling you to Do it? Up on the frame of the cypress. Do it!"
Dancer's hot breath brushed Ogi's cheek.
"That's not what's supposed to happen, is it?" Ogi responded, holding his rising anger in check.
"Do it! Do it!" Dancer said vehemently, ignoring Ogi's protest.
Morio's piano music had changed to "Ascending, Part Two" and then went back to Part One. It wasn't a simple tape loop but the recording of a performance that played the music in that order. The massive body of the skillful performer of this music now clumsily approached the wooden frame.
Before long this dark figure, his large head hanging down, slowly began to move. Finally he took something out of his pants pocket-Ogi knew it was the matchbox-and laid it on a low wooden bar on the wood frame.
Then, as if he'd forgotten something, he quickly retraced his steps. Even before the Firefly standing in the dark water could pull the boat closer, the dark figure stepped into the water and almost collapsed into the boat, the Firefly shoving oif the edge with both hands. As the boat rowed back, the dark fig- ure on board sat there unmoving, like some bulky cargo.
A moment later two more dark figures stood up at the water's edge on the chapel side on the island. Water dripped from both of them. One of them supported the other as the figure struggled to walk in the soft sand. The two figures stood side by side in front of the wooden frame around the cypress. The upright slim figure looked around a bit-Ogi realized it was Ms. Tachibana- and reached out a thin arm to the wooden bar on the frame. A match flared, and the wavering flame reached out toward the papier-mâché Guide that draped down from the lower level of the frame.
As soon as the flames lapped up the lower edge of the frame, a wide swath of red flames raced up to the wild hair of the doll's head. All at once a round of applause rose up from the broad circle of onlookers surrounding the Hollow, drowning out the piano music. The larger of the two shadows turned to face the grandstands and gave a respectful bow as if it were a per- former on a stage acknowledging the audience. The applause roared up cheer- ily, and the flames made small exploding sounds as they covered the entire wooden frame.
At the grandstands, the boat passed around the Japanese boats to arrive at the inundated steps, and Ikuo walked up them alone. Dancer ran up to him with such force she almost sent him falling back into the water.
"Murderer! Did you hear the voice telling you, Do it?" Dancer cursed him, slamming her body into his.
Probably no one else heard that besides Ogi, who'd come running after her. Now a different kind of stir swept through the crowd, mixed in with screams here and there, and the stir rose even louder. Seeing that Dancer was being restrained, Ogi turned to look back at the island, where the surprisingly high flames illuminated, at the base of the wooden frame, which itself was ablaze, the two shadowy figures from before crouched down, hugging each other, their free hands held up to shield their faces from the flames.
The papier-mâché Guide on top of the burning frame seemed to leap and, together with the other dolls around it, went up in flames. The fire now reached to the cypress branches piled there, to the luxuriant leaves of the smaller branches; then even the thick trunk of the tree, like a pillar rising up through all that was piled around it, began to burn.
In the midst of new screams, the mass piled up on the upper level that covered the wooden frame collapsed in a shower of sparks onto the two pros- trate figures. In the reddish glow of the flames things collapsed one after another. Shouts and crying voices rose up. The roar of the flames was rivaled by the sound of the wind rising up from them; the entire area around the lake was like a strangely clamorous festival.
Like the agitated crowd around him, Ogi's eyes were riveted on the flaming giant cypress, but he sensed some disturbance, spun around, and saw the Technicians' security detail grab the person wearing the papier-mâché figure of Guide and roughly rip off the disguise. Gii emerged from it, dressed in T-shirt and jeans. The young man was limp and dripping sweat as if a bucket of water had been poured over him.
An even greater scream went up as the papier-mâché Guide on the island fell to the ground from the blazing frame and bounced up, and out of the wreckage appeared a human body.
EPILOGUE: THE EVERLASTING YEAR
1
Young Ogi, accompanied by the American newspaper reporter Fred Parks and Mrs. Tsugane, visited Maki Town for the first time in more than a year. In the intervening time Ogi had married Mrs. Tsugane, so it was strange to keep calling him by his old appellation, though that's what he planned to go by with everyone in the Hollow. The three of them landed at the Matsuyama airport, transferred to the express train, and by the time they got off at Maki Station a December snow was steadily falling, something Ogi had never experienced in Tokyo. The man-made forests that made up most of the mountain ranges surrounding the Maki basin looked as if a brush had been used to sweep polishing powder over the blue-black earth. Despite the heavy snow the air was filled with the approach of a gentle twilight. Snow had piled up in the square in front of the station, and the roads leading out from that spot were already covered in white, with not much traffic at that time of day. No taxis were waiting outside the station.
They'd called ahead from the Matsuyama airport to say they'd be taking the last express train of the day, and since no one was there to greet them Ogi considered phoning again. He wasn't at all sure, though, whether at this time of day Dancer would still be working in the office next to the chapel. She'd gotten married too, to Ikuo, and was now in overall charge of running the Church of the New Man. It was windy as well as snowing, and Fred, who wore only an old trench coat, was grumbling about the cold.
Before long a brand-new Nissan President luxury sedan went past the prefectural road and then turned back toward them. The car scattered newly fallen snow in the intersection in front of the square as it made a wide detour back, coming to a halt in front of the windswept station exit where Ogi and the others were waiting with their luggage.
Mr. Matsuo of the Fushokuji temple opened the driver's door and leaned out to greet them. Then he said, emphatically, "This looks like it'll be the first major snowfall we've had in some time. Even if it weren't snowing so much, taxis don't like to drive to the Old Town. With the recession they've cut back the number of cabs, plus the drivers are still a little bit shy about picking up foreigners. Fm not saying they're prejudiced or anything, it's just that they can't speak English."
Mr. Matsuo got out of the car, dressed in a dark navy-blue jacket, and darted about, helping first Mrs. Tsugane and then Fred into the backseat; he stowed their luggage in the trunk and motioned to Ogi to sit in front. The passenger seat, like all the other seats, was quite plush.
"Weren't you on your way downriver?" Ogi asked hesitantly.