murakami, haruki - Norwegian wood

everything he could to heal me, and I had done everything I could to
be healed, both for his sake and for our daughter's. And I had believed
in my recovery. I was happy for six years from the time we were
married. He got me 99 per cent of the way there, but the other one per
cent went crazy. Snap! Everything we had built up came crashing
down. In one split second, everything turned into nothing. And that
girl was the one who did it."
Reiko collected the cigarette butts she had crushed underfoot and
tossed them into the tin can.
"It's a terrible story. We worked so hard, so hard, building our world
one brick at a time. And when it fell apart, it happened just like that.
Everything was gone before you knew it."
She stood up and thrust her hands in her pockets. "Let's go back. It's
late."
The sky was darker, the cloud cover thicker than before, the moon
invisible. Now, I realized, like Reiko I could smell the rain. And with
it mixed the fresh smell of the grapes in the bag I was holding.
"That's why I can't leave this place," she said. "I'm afraid to get
involved with the outside world. I'm afraid to meet new people and
feel new feelings."
"I understand," I said. "But I think you can do it. I think you can go
outside and make it."
Reiko smiled, but said nothing.
Naoko was on the sofa with a book. She had her legs crossed and
pressed her hand against her temple as she read. Her fingers almost
seemed to be touching and testing each word that entered her head.
Scattered drops of rain were beginning to tap on the roof. The
lamplight enveloped her, hovering around her like fine dust. After my
long talk with Reiko, Naoko's youthfulness struck me in a new way.
"Sorry we're so late," said Reiko, patting Naoko's head.
"Enjoy yourselves?" asked Naoko, looking up.
"Of course," said Reiko.
194