Free The Lake by Banana Yoshimoto Page A

path faded into the haze, and we found ourselves padding along with no view of what lay ahead. He’s used to walking here like this, I noticed. Even tiny lights oozed outward, acquiring round, glowing halos.
    “Hey, there it is,” Nakajima said.
    Beyond the red torii was a narrow stone stairway that led up to a small shrine. From up there you would have a good view of the lake. Straining my eyes, off in the distance to one side of the torii , I saw a house. It was just as he had described it: a run-down shack. When I saw that wooden structure, blurred by the mist, I wondered if it even had electricity.
    A few missing steps in the front stairway had been replaced with boards. Holes in the windows were covered with scraps of plastic sheet. It seemed pretty dim inside.
    Looking more closely, though, I saw that the boards and the plastic had been put up with great care, very simply, in the most practical way. Everything looked old, but it wasn’t dirty or unkempt. It called to mind the phrase “honest poverty.”
    Various little signs here and there suggested that the people inside were living proper lives: the potted plants, for instance, and the way spokes shone on the ancient bicycle that stood off in an unobtrusive corner, even though there was a hole in the basket.
    “Hello!” Nakajima shouted.
    The house was as still as the lake—so quiet I wondered if anyone was there after all. But after a few moments, someone wandered out.
    He was an adult, perhaps thirty-five or so, and yet he was extremely small, like a child. His face seemed kind of shrunken, giving him the look of a bulldog. His eyes were sparkling, though, and there was something noble in the way he carried himself.
    “Hey, it’s Nobu! You really came!” the man said.
    He had on a sweater covered in fuzz and a well-worn pair of khakis, but he still looked as tidy as the house. His long hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and while he was a bit plump he stood perfectly upright. He made a very good impression on me.
    “Mino! It’s been ages!”
    Nakajima was beaming. There was no trace now of the fear and trembling he had endured at the thought of seeing this friend.
    I guess you could say he was acting like a man. You could also say he was a pain in the neck, making me worry so much when he was going to be just fine in the end. Either way, I was flabbergasted by the change.
    Seeing him like this, I wondered how much he might still be hiding from me. I could see we had a long way to go.
    “So at last you’ve come to see us,” the man said. “I heard about your mother.… I’m sorry. But I guess it’s been a while since that happened, too, hasn’t it.” He gave a little smile. A cute smile that lit up his whole face.
    “I know—it took time for me to finally make myself come. I wanted to see you so badly, but it made me anxious. This place is full of memories of my mother—it gets me down.…” Nakajima gazed up at the roof and squinted. Then he turned to me. “It was okay, though, because I’ve got a guide. I finally made it.”
    “Nice to meet you,” Mino said, looking my way. “And her name …”
    “Chihiro. She’s my girlfriend. Chihiro, this is Mino,” Nakajima said.
    I smiled and said hi, my mind awhirl with all I didn’t understand.
    There was something special in their intimacy. They could smile back and forth without speaking, like soldiers who had fought side by side.
    The wind was beautiful, racing through the sky.
    If only we could live someplace like that, so high and lovely, free as birds, liberated from our worries. But we don’t, and I have to confess that Nakajima was a weight on my shoulders. Not a heavy one, but a weight nonetheless. Until lately, I’d lived in a world all my own, and I didn’t like the idea that Nakajima might come to depend on me more than he already did. I didn’t really dislike it, but I didn’t like it. In short, I was ready to make a run for it. I don’t want this responsibility , I