Slow Boat by Hideo Furukawa

Author:Hideo Furukawa [Hideo Furukawa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782273295
Publisher: Steerforth Press
Published: 2017-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

And my train fails to arrive at its destination.

I leave the third daiba and get on the Yurikamome Line. Aim for Shinbashi Station, the end of the line. But I’m freezing-cold, so I stay on the train, where the heater is. We cross Rainbow Bridge, but I’m too cold to lift my head up to look for the sixth daiba, adrift in the sea below. I curl up like a ball. To warm up. My brain is moving now—set in motion by unearthed memories. I draw a map inside my head. Almost like I did with the Yamanote Line when I was nineteen. But, this time, I chart the flight of the Yurikamome. The elevated track traces the shape of Odaiba—like a giant U turned on its side. To the north-west, the line crosses Rainbow Bridge, then circles around. It forms a head. The 800-metre bridge is like a long neck. Making the sideways U… a body? Ariake has to be the tail. A dragon’s tail? The second I see the dragon shape in my mind, I fall asleep.

I fall. Suddenly into sleep.

The automated train pulls into Shinbashi Station, stops there for a few minutes, then heads back to Ariake again. But I don’t wake up—because I’m already somewhere else.

There. In that dream.

Back in that “room”.

The one in my memories. That hotel room. I wake up same as last time. I wake up as a character in that world. Am I seeing things from the same angle? Just off the ground? Hard to say. But I’m back in that cabriolet, same as last time. It feels like I’m living the scene over and over.

It feels the same—but it’s not.

Last time, I was leaning back in the chair. This time, I’m leaning forward. Like I was when I fell asleep on the train. Like… like I broke through the wall just like that. The thick wall that divides reality and dreams.

Channel your senses, I tell myself. Get a good look at the place.

This world. This “room”.

Where’s the CD? Back on the desk—like last time?

I know it’s important. I can feel it in my bones. I train my eyes, and there it is. The yellow jacket. The man with the saxophone: Sonny Rollins. The dust is thicker now—like the volume’s been turned up. Is time moving? Is the “room” getting older? I grab the CD from under the dust. Déjà vu. I take the dream’s generous gift in my hands. I’m surprised by how thin the case is—same as last time.

I flip it over. White letters on black background. Same thirteen tracks as before. In the same order—at least I think so. Which means, I reason, this CD really exists. It still begins with “The Stopper” and closes with “I Know”. But only one track jumps out at me (even though I don’t know why—not yet). It’s the same one that brought me back from sleep on the stalagmite. “On a Slow Boat to China”. It overpowers the other titles—all of which begin to blur.

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