The Gate by Natsume Sōseki

Author:Natsume Sōseki
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2012-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

12

THAT MORNING at the office Sōsuke commenced the day’s tasks in his usual fashion, but his natural concern for the ailing Oyone, exacerbated by vivid recollections of scenes from the previous night by her sickbed that kept flashing before his mind’s eye, prevented any satisfactory performance. He made one bungling effort after another. Then, having waited until noon, he resolved to leave the office.

On the streetcar he conjured up for himself certain encouraging developments: Oyone waking up at some point, feeling much better and no longer in danger of another attack. There being very few fellow passengers at this hour, in contrast to his regular commute, he was scarcely distracted by external stimuli, and could therefore shift his gaze inward, onto images that were spontaneously projected inside his mind. Meanwhile, the streetcar had reached the last stop.

When he came to the front gate not a sound was to be heard from inside the house, which seemed deserted. He slid open the latticework door, removed his shoes, and stepped across the threshold; still no one emerged to greet him. Instead of following the veranda around to the sitting room as he usually did, he went through the vestibule and directly entered the parlor, where Oyone would be resting. And there she was, still fast asleep. All was the same as it had been that morning—the red lacquer tray by her pillow with the empty medicine packet, the glass, and even the water that had been left in it. She lay facing the alcove, just as she had when he left, with her left cheek visible and the mustard plaster showing at the collar line. Even Oyone’s slumber was unchanged from what he had observed in the morning, so deep that only her breathing evinced some connection with this world. Indeed, not a single detail of his wife’s appearance had been altered from what had registered in his brain on his departure. Without removing his overcoat, Sōsuke bent down and listened awhile to the rhythm of her breathing. It did not seem as though she could be easily awakened. He counted on his fingers the hours she had now slept since taking the medicine the night before. For the first time his face betrayed anxiety. Sōsuke had worried when Oyone was unable to sleep the previous evening, but as he studied her now he wondered if this being lost to the world for so long was not still more alarming.

He placed his hand on Oyone’s coverlet and shook her gently. Her hair billowed out over the pillow, but the rhythm of her slumberous breathing remained unchanged. Leaving his wife be, Sōsuke passed into the sitting room and from there into the kitchen. In the sink teacups and lacquer bowls were soaking in a basin, still unwashed. He peeked into Kiyo’s room and found her stretched out on the floor, a small tray of food beside her, her head inclined toward the rice tub. He then slid open the door to the six-mat room and stuck his head in.

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