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say I’m running away!” Himiko’s shout echoed in the caves of her hysteria.
“Have you forgotten that you drove the car into a pothole today rather than
run over a dead sparrow? Is that what a person does just before he cuts a baby’s
throat?”

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Himiko’s large face flushed, swelling, then darkened with fury and a
presentiment of despair. She glared at Bird, shuddering in vexation: she was
trying to fault him and couldn’t find her voice.
“If I want to confront this monster honestly instead of running away from it, I
have only two alternatives: I can strangle the baby to death with my own hands
or I can accept him and bring him up. I’ve understood that from the beginning
but I haven’t had the courage to accept it—”
“But Bird,” Himiko interrupted, waving her fingers threateningly, “that baby
is coming down with pneumonia! If you tried to take him back to the hospital
he’d die in the car on the way. Then where would you be? They’d arrest you,
that’s where!”
“If that happened, it would mean that I’d killed the baby with my own two
hands. And I’d deserve whatever I got. I guess I’d be able to take the
responsibility.”
Bird spoke clamly. He felt that he was now evading deception’s final trap,
and he was restoring his faith in himself.
Himiko glowered at Bird with tears collecting in her eyes; she appeared to be
groping frantically for a new psychological attack, and when at last a strategy
occurred, she leaped at it: “Let’s say you let them operate and saved the baby’s
life, what would you have then, Bird? You told me yourself that your son would
never be more than a vegetable! Don’t you see, it’s not only that you’d be
creating misery for yourself, you’d be nurturing a life that meant absolutely
nothing to this world! Do you suppose that would be for the baby’s good? Do
you, Bird?”
“It’s for my own good. It’s so I can stop being a man who’s always running
away,” Bird said.
But Himiko still refused to understand. She stared distrustfully at Bird,
challenging him still, and then she labored to smile despite the tears welling in
her eyes and mockingly said: “So you’re going to manhandle a baby with the
faculties of a vegetable into staying alive—Bird! is that part of your new
humanism?”
“All I want is to stop being a man who continually runs away from
responsibility.”
“But … Bird …” Himiko sobbed, “… what about our promise to go to Africa
together? What about our promise?”
“For God’s sake Himi, get ahold of yourself! Once Bird here begins worrying

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“For God’s sake Himi, get ahold of yourself! Once Bird here begins worrying
about himself, he won’t hear you no matter how loud you cry.”
Bird saw something akin to raw hatred glitter in Kikuhiko’s clouded eyes. But
his former friend’s command to Himiko was the cue she had been waiting for:
once again she became the Himiko who had welcomed Bird several days before
when he had arrived so forlornly at her door with his bottle of Johnnie Walker, a
girl no longer young, infinitely generous: tender, placid Himiko.
“That’s all right, Bird. You don’t have to come. I’ll sell the house and
property and go to Africa anyway. I’ll take that boy who stole the tire along for
company. Now that I think about it, I’ve been pretty horrid to him.” The
tearfulness remained, but there was no mistaking that Himiko had ridden the
storm of her hysteria.
“Miss Himi will be all right now,” Kikuhiko prompted.
“Thank you,” Bird said simply, meaning it, no more to one than to the other.
“Bird, you are going to have to endure all kinds of pain,” Himiko said. It was
meant as encouragement. “So long, Bird. Take care of yourself!”
Bird nodded, and left the bar.
The taxi raced down the wet streets at horrendous speed. If I die in an
accident now before I save the baby, my whole twenty-seven years of life will
have meant exactly nothing. Bird was stricken with a sense of fear more
profound than any he had ever known.
It was the end of autumn. When Bird came downstairs after saying good-by
to the surgeon, his parents-in-law greeted him with a smile in front of the
intensive care ward; his wife stood between them with the baby in her arms.
“Congratulations, Bird,” his father-in-law called. “He looks like you, you
know.”
“In a way,” Bird said with reserve. A week after the operation the baby had
looked almost human; the following week it had begun to resemble Bird. “That
fault in the baby’s skull was only a few millimeters across and it seems to be
closing now. I can show you when we get home, I borrowed the X rays. It turns
out the brain wasn’t protruding from the skull; so it wasn’t a brain hernia after
all, just a benign tumor. There were apparently two hard kernels as white as
ping-pong balls in that lump they cut away.”
“This is one family that has a lot to be grateful for.” The professor had been
waiting for a lull in the rush of Bird’s talk.
“Bird gave so much of his own blood for all those transfusions during the

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“Bird gave so much of his own blood for all those transfusions during the
operation, he came out looking as pale as a princess after a date with Dracula.”
A rare attempt at humor from Bird’s exuberant mother-in-law. “Seriously, Bird,
you were as courageous and untiring as a young lion.”
Frightened by the sudden change in environment, the baby lay in shriveled
and unmoving silence, observing the adults out of eyes which must still have
been nearly sightless. Since the women stopped repeatedly to cluck and coo over
the baby, Bird and the professor gradually drew ahead as they talked. “This time
you really met your problem head on,” the professor said.
“As a matter of fact, I kept trying to run away. And I almost did. But it seems
that reality compels you to live properly when you live in the real world. I mean,
even if you intend to get yourself caught in a trap of deception, you find
somewhere along the line that your only choice is to avoid it.” Bird was
surprised at the muted resentment in his voice. “That’s what I’ve found,
anyway.”
“But it is possible to live in the real world in quite a different way, Bird.
There are people who leap-frog from one deception to another until the day they
die.”
Through half-closed eyes Bird saw again the freighter bound for Zanzibar that
had sailed a few days before with Himiko on board. He pictured himself, having
killed the baby, standing at her side in place of that boyish man—a sufficiently
enticing prospect of Hell. And perhaps just such a reality was being played out
in one of Himiko’s universes. Bird opened his eyes, turning back to the problems
in the universe in which he had chosen to remain. “There is a possibility that the
baby’s development will be normal,” he said, “but there’s an equal danger that
he’ll grow up with an extremely low I.Q. That means I’m going to have to put
away as much as I can for his future as well as our own. Naturally, I’m not going
to ask you to help me find another job, not after the mess I made of the one I
had. I’ve decided to forget about a career in college teaching—I’m thinking of
becoming a guide for foreign tourists. A dream of mine has always been to go to
Africa and hire a native guide, so I’ll just be reversing the fantasy: I’ll be the
native guide, for the foreigners who come to Japan.”
The professor started to say something in reply when they both had to step
aside for a youth with his arm in an exaggerated sling who was being hurried
down the corridor by a gang of his friends. The boys swept by, ignoring Bird and
his father-in-law. They all wore soiled, shabby jackets which already looked too
light for the chilliness of the season. Bird saw the dragons emblazoned on their
backs and realized that this was the gang he had battled that night in early

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backs and realized that this was the gang he had battled that night in early
summer when his baby was being born.
“I know those boys, but for some reason they didn’t pay any attention to me,”
he said.
“In a few weeks’ time you’ve become almost another person; that probably
explains it.”
“Do you suppose?”
“You’ve changed.” The professor’s voice was warm with a relative’s
affection. “A childish nickname like Bird doesn’t suit you anymore.”
Bird waited for the women to catch up and peered down at his son in the
cradle of his wife’s arms. He wanted to try reflecting his face in the baby’s
pupils. The mirror of the baby’s eyes was a deep, lucid gray and it did begin to
reflect an image, but one so excessively fine that Bird couldn’t confirm his new
face. As soon as he got home he would take a look in the mirror. Then he would
try the Balkan dictionary that Mr. Delchef had presented him before his legation
had shipped him home. On the inside cover, Mr. Delchef had written the word
for hope. Bird intended to look up forbearance.

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Document Outline

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Translator’s Note
• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• 6
• 7
• 8
• 9
• 10
• 11
• 12
• 13