The Harmony Silk Factory

“Please,” I said, “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but whatever it is, I’m sorry, alright? If you come up on deck with the rest of us I’ll do something to make it up to you.”

No answer for some time, and then a tentative frown took shape, the corners of his mouth curled in a half-smile.

“We’ll recite some Shelley together, how about that?” I said. “Come on, it’s the start of our adventure!”

As we sliced effortlessly through glass-green waters, I watched Snow and Kunichika standing side by side at the helm, their sleeves touching and fluttering in the wind. They were like figures in a bas-relief, hewn onto the side of an ancient monument, perfectly postured and inscrutably countenanced. Johnny and I sat down on the deck and watched the deepening sun. We rested our heads on the splintered boards of the shack that housed the helm. I was heartened to see that a little colour had returned to Johnny’s cheeks, but his eyes remained hollow and distant as we sat gazing into the sun. I touched his arm to enquire as to his condition, but he withdrew from me and smiled weakly. The long painful strains of Kunichika’s “Porgi, amor” began to play in my head, and there was nothing I could do to make them disappear. The boat emerged from the sheltered inlets and suddenly we were in open waters, the sea supine before us.

Johnny said, “ ‘And many there were hurt by that strong boy. His name, they said, was Pleasure.’ ” He mumbled rather than articulated the words, but they were clear enough to me.

“Is that Shelley?” I said. “How clever of you to remember it. What’s it from?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just saw it in the book.” He avoided my gaze, staring at the setting sun with indolent eyes. The wind disturbed his hair, ruffling the short, fine strands into a jagged mass that sat up on his head like a crown. Some of them fell down over his forehead; I reached across to brush them from his eyes, but he pushed my hand away with a small slap — I could not tell if the force of this blow was intentional. For a brief moment, my fingertips had touched his brow — it was hot and clammy.

“I see. Noli me tangere,” I said. “I suppose you’re waiting to ascend to a higher plane? Tell me what’s wrong, for God’s sake.”

He laughed a quick, snorting laugh, quite unlike him, and continued looking sleepily into the distance.

I sneaked a glance at Snow and Kunichika, that perfect lascivious pair, and saw them still entranced with each other. “Listen, Johnny,” I whispered. “I know what’s the matter. It’s Kunichika, isn’t it?”

He turned to me at once, regarding me with a frown of genuine surprise. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy.

“It isn’t right,” I continued. “I know it isn’t right, and it must be uncomfortable for you, but it’ll pass, I’m sure. It’s the novelty of him — I mean, the novelty of someone new appearing all of a sudden. We’re all like that, after all. People who enter our worlds from the outside are always more fascinating than the ones close to us, but in the end we always see sense. There’s no need to worry, you know.”

He looked confused.

“Snow,” I said, lowering my voice even further. “She isn’t behaving, well, quite herself, is she?”

His face twisted in an ugly smile. He said, “How would you know what her self is?” And with that he returned to his barricaded silence, locking me out of his world. The unfathomable, inscrutable East, I thought. I was cut adrift from the shores of understanding. The sea spread itself before me, leading to a blank, blank horizon. There was nothing I could do but sing. I opened my voice to the marbled sky. The songs I sang were the ones I thought I had forgotten: Drink to me only with thine eyes, I intoned in the last light of the tropical afternoon. They were the songs of my boyhood, and I had scarcely sung them in the years since. Still I carried them with me, alone here on these hot seas.

It did not surprise me when the boat broke down. It began with a grinding roar, the motor complaining of its age and disrepair with the most awful rattle. And then it gave way abruptly to a thin protesting whine before quietening completely. I welcomed it with glee.