murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

feed and a garden hose. Naoko screwed the hose to a tap and turned
on the water. Taking care to prevent any birds from flying out, the two
of them slipped into the cage, Naoko hosing down the dirt and Reiko
scrubbing the floor of the cage with a deck brush. The spray sparkled
in the glare of the morning sun. The peacocks flapped around the cage
to avoid getting splashed. A turkey raised its head and glowered at me
like a crotchety old man, while a parrot on the perch above screeched
its displeasure and beat its wings. Reiko meowed at the parrot, which
slunk over to the far corner but soon was calling: "Thank you!"
"Crazy!" "Shithead!"
"I wonder who taught him that kind of language?" said Naoko with a
sigh.
"Not me," said Reiko. "I would never do such a thing." She started
meowing again, and the parrot shut up.
Laughing, Reiko explained, "This guy once had a run-in with a cat.
Now he's scared to death of them."
When they had finished cleaning, the two set down their tools and
went around filling each of the feeders. Splashing its way through
puddles on the floor, the turkey darted to its feed box and plunged its
head in, too obsessed with eating to be bothered by Naoko's smacks
on its tail.
"Do you do this every morning?" I asked Naoko.
"Every morning!" she said. "They usually give this job to new women.
It's so easy. Like to see the rabbits?"
"Sure," I said. The rabbit hutch was behind the aviary. Some ten
rabbits lay inside, asleep in the straw. Naoko swept up their droppings,
put feed in their box, and picked up one of the babies, rubbing it
against her cheek.
"Isn't it precious?" she gushed. She let me hold it. The warm, little ball
of fur cringed in my arms, twitching its nose.
"Don't worry, he won't hurt you," she said to the rabbit, stroking its
head with her finger and smiling at me. It was such a radiant smile,
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