Occupied City
Page 25
27. He shouts, I thought you were my man-on-the-inside, my man-in-the-know, but I’m the last-man-to-know, I’ve been scooped all things are foreign to you, all people are alien I CUT MY NAILS, EVERY NIGHT, AT NIGHT Everyone’s in the dark, I say, not just me, not just you. They have kept the rest of us chasing suspects with military backgrounds, suspects with medical backgrounds, kept telling us to forget about the name-cards no longer human, no longer living SO I MIGHT SEE AGAIN MY FATHER’S GHOST He shouts, But they told us not to write about the military men, about the medical men, told us to keep it out of our papers and look where that’s got us. Duped and scooped reflected, fractured, disfigured and other AT NIGHT, EVERY NIGHT, I CUT MY NAILS You think you people, your newspaper, are the only ones who get censored, I laugh, wake up! This country is an Occupied Country, this city is an Occupied City. They can do what they want, when they want, to who they want, how they want. It’s an Occupied City and it’s a set-up yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend IN THE HOPE YOU’LL COME AGAIN He asks, You’re saying this man Hirasawa is innocent then the battle is over now, the war at an end THAT YOU MIGHT SPEAK TO ME, THAT YOU MIGHT TALK TO ME Of course he is, I sigh, but they are desperate. They followed the name-cards and this is where it’s led them. But there are seventeen name-cards which have still not yet been traced, that are still not yet accounted for. This man Hirasawa is just one of the seventeen and the moment the survivors set eyes on him, that will be that with fond farewells and salutes you part THAT YOU MIGHT TELL ME WHAT TO DO He asks, That will be what, what do you mean wheeling to the left, then to the right I CUT MY NAILS, EVERY NIGHT, AT NIGHT The end of their case, I laugh, because the survivors won’t be able to identify Hirasawa, because it wasn’t him, and so then they’ll have to let him go again in new dances to old tunes THAT YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT TO DO, PLEASE TELL ME WHAT TO DO Now the journalist says, You really think so no longer living, no longer human ABOUT MY WORK, PLEASE TELL ME, ABOUT MY HOUSE I really know so, I say, all of us do, all of us except Ikki and his name-card team. It’s all circumstantial everyone alien here, everything foreign now ABOUT MY MOTHER, PLEASE TELL ME, ABOUT MY WIFE He says, But off-the-record your top men are telling us they are 100 per cent certain about Hirasawa Sadamichi, 100 per cent certain he is guilty. That’s why they’ve gone so public with his arrest nothing is spared PLEASE TELL ME, ABOUT MY WIFE, PLEASE And, of course, you believe everything you hear, I laugh, everything they tell you. Well, you just watch no one is spared NO MORE NIGHT, NO MORE NAILS
28. You have not been listening, Detective, have you who else would I be, where else would I go IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS, IN THE HISTORY BOOKS You have not been following instructions I am still me, I am still here HAND IN HAND You have not been following orders to see things, to touch things A WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING You have been making connections, Detective, haven’t you what are you talking about, you must have a fever A SHEEP IN WOLF’S CLOTHING Connections where there are no connections to be made you must be delirious, who are you talking about IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS You have been making links, Detective, haven’t you you give me money, you give me presents, you grab my hand, you grab my crotch HAND IN HAND Links where there are no links to be made have you been bitten by a flea, infected with some new form of madness, some new kind of virus or plague A WOLF ON THE THRONE You have been imagining things, Detective, haven’t you wasps land on my lips, all men are the same A SHEEP ON THE THRONE Hearing things, seeing things the days are long and the world is old, lots of people have stood in the same place IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS Things that have never been, things that are simply not there, things that will never be a man can see a lot of things with two good eyes on a sunny day HAND IN HAND You are suspended from duty, Detective, you are off the case I am still here, I am still me THE WOLF AND THE SHEEP
Act V
29. In our room, on the floor, on my hands, on my knees, I see it, see it shining, in our room, on the floor, on my hands, on my knees, in the gloom, a golden thing, on the floor, in our room, on my hands, on my knees among the smoke, among the tunes UNDER CLOCKS I ask my wife, What is this thing the winner and the loser BIG CLOCKS, LITTLE CLOCKS What is what thing, she replies the occupier and the occupied WE WAIT FOR DEATH I say, This shining golden thing. Here in my fingers the master and his dog ON GREY DAYS, AGAIN AND AGAIN That thing, it’s nothing. It’s just an earring, she replies you speak, I jump A PIECE OF FOOD, IF WE’RE LUCKY I ask, And where did you get this golden earring I jump, you yell RATS, IF WE’RE NOT I found it in the street, she says, it’s nothing you yell, I cower IN ROOMS I say, But I’ve never found that kind of nothing, that shining golden kind of nothing I cower, you beat me ENORMOUS ROOMS, TINY ROOMS My wife says nothing you beat me, I whimper WE WAIT FOR DEATH I take a second golden earring, a matching golden earring, out of my pocket, I hold it up to her, I say, I never found that kind of nothing twice I whimper, you pet me A KIND WORD, NOW AND AGAIN So what does that make me, she asks, what are you saying you pet me, I wag my tail A SMILE, IF WE’RE LUCKY Now I take some money from my pocket, I give it to my wife, I say, I have to go, go back to work the dog and his master BLOWS, IF WE’RE NOT I’m a bad person I know, my wife is weeping, I’m bad for you. If I had a sharp knife, I could stab myself. I want to die the bad dog, the good master IN ROOMS, UNDER CLOCKS I leave the room, I close the door, I leave the building, I turn another corner, and I’m gone again among the tunes, among the smoke WE WAIT FOR DEATH
30. The last name on my list, the last doctor on my list, this one called Sawa Saburo, this one in Funabashi, Chiba Prefecture across the occupied city, in your borrowed cars IN OUR HOSPITALS, IN OUR SCHOOLS, AT OUR HOMES, AT OUR JOBS Sawa Saburo had once been a research assistant at the former Japanese Imperial Chemical Laboratory in Tsudanuma, Chiba Prefecture roads turn to mud, mud turns to rivers EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY HOUR Sawa Saburo had once been involved in research into the use of prussic acid as a poison snow turns to sleet, sleet turns to rain, turns to sleet again A HUNDRED LITTLE COMPROMISES Sawa Saburo was then later promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel and sent to Pingfan, outside Harbin, in Manchuria there are ambulances, there are crowds EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY Lieutenant Colonel Sawa Saburo was attached to Detachment 731 former soldiers standing in their white robes and khaki caps A HUNDRED LITTLE DEALS Now Sawa Saburo is living on another dusty highway between a clothing shop and a bar feral children hanging from the branches of the shrine-trees EVERY DAY OF EVERY WEEK Now Sawa Saburo is working in a run-down animal hospital between a bicycle repair shop and a Chinese restaurant the Nagasaki Shrine to your right, the Teikoku Bank to your left A HUNDRED LITTLE LIES But Sawa Saburo no longer calls himself Sawa Saburo; Sawa Saburo now calls himself Endo Saiichi you put out your cigarette, you follow the other detectives, up the steps, into the bank EVERY WEEK OF EVERY MONTH I open the metal gate in the wooden fence and I step inside the courtyard of the Funabashi Animal Hospital down the narrow passages, through the heavy furniture THE GUILTY ARE FREE, THE INNOCENT ARE IMPRISONED The August sun is high in the midday sky and here in the courtyard there is no shade, only row upon row of cage upon cage between the empty chairs, the rows of desks EVERY MONTH OF EVERY YEAR In each row there are twelve cages, on each cage is stacked another two cages, and in each cage is a dog the cash on the desks, in piles, the vomit on the floor, in pools THESE ARE THE COMPROMISES WE MAKE WITH OURSELVES The place smells of piss, the place smells of shit, the place smells of dogs in the corridor, on the mats, in the bathroom, on the tiles MINUTE AFTER MINUTE, HOUR AFTER HOUR, DAY AFTER DAY But the dogs are not barking, the dogs are all silent now ten bodies, ten corpses THESE ARE THE DEALS WE SELL TO OURSELVES This place smells of death the clock on the wall, its black hands still moving WEEK AFTER WEEK, MONTH AFTER MONTH, YEAR AFTER YEAR A man in a dirty white coat and a dirty white mask, in dirty rubber gloves and dirty rubber boots, steps out of the office now their hands raised, frozen and petrified, at their throats THESE ARE THE LIES WE TELL TO OURSELVES The man removes his dirty wh
ite mask and he asks, Can I help you these men, these women, this child A HUNDRED LITTLE COMPROMISES, A HUNDRED LITTLE DEALS, A HUNDRED LITTLE LIES I take off my hat, I take out my handkerchief, I wipe my face, and I say, Dr Sawa they died in agony, they died in fear, they died in silence, fallen on each other, lying side by side, faces up and faces down A THOUSAND TINY CUTS, A MILLION TINY WOUNDS
31. I wait in our room for her to return, but the child keeps crying did the world make you sad, or do you make the world sad HOW MUCH FOR A KNIFE I watch for her from the window, but the child keeps crying did the world hurt you, or do you hurt the world TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I pick it up, but the child keeps crying did the world make you cry, or do you make the world cry A LOVELY SHARP STRAIGHT KNIFE I hold it in my arms, but the child keeps crying did the world say yes and you said no, or do you say yes and the world says no TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I try to sing it a song, sleep angel sleep, but the child keeps crying did the world make you the person you are, or do you make the world the place it is A LOVELY SHARP CHEAP KNIFE I walk up and down the room, holding it in my arms, down and up the room, but the child keeps crying was the world to blame, or are you to blame TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I pat it and rub its back, but the child keeps crying was it the world, or is it you A KNIFE JUST LIKE THAT I try to give it food, but the child keeps crying this petrification, this paralysis TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I try to give it water, but the child keeps crying this despair, this hatred A CHEAP AND ECONOMICAL DEATH Finally I lay it back down, but the child keeps crying are these tears for the world, or are these tears for yourself TO CUT MY OWN THROAT The child keeps crying for its mother these tears THE LOOSE CHANGE IN MY POCKET
32. He wipes away the tears from his eyes no, I think you mean Dr Endo; yes, you are looking for Dr Endo AMONG THE TUNES, AMONG THE SMOKE He says, It is true that I committed the crime no, I’ve not seen Dr Endo for six months IN THE FOG, IN THE MIST I feel relieved now that everything is over, that a heavy load has been lifted from me no, Dr Endo has not been here; no, he has not been to work; no, not for the last six months THE CITY IS UPSIDE DOWN I don’t have adequate words to express the regret I have for having committed this horrible crime yes, you could try his room down the highway; yes, in the building between the men’s clothing shop and the bar called Yuki THE CITY IS INSIDE OUT The police have treated me fairly and properly, man to man, and this treatment allowed me to bring out the best in my mind no, Dr Endo said he was going away; no, he didn’t say he’d be coming back THE WHOLE COUNTRY, THE WHOLE WORLD Chief Prosecutor Takagi Hajime has been a gentleman and Prosecutors Sasaki and Umezu have treated me with consideration and fairness yes, of course I believed Dr Endo; yes, because he said he was dying; yes, because I knew he was dying; because I could see he was dying UPSIDE DOWN, INSIDE OUT I do not feel like making any statement in my defence at this time, but I can say that part of my motive was due to science yes, Dr Endo looked like a doctor; yes, he was about fifty years old; yes, he was about 160 centimetres tall BACK TO FRONT I have been writing poetry and Chief Prosecutor Takagi Hajime has been helping me yes, his hair was grey; yes, his hair was short; yes, he had two marks; yes, upon his left cheek; yes, he looked like that, he looked like that picture THE SUN RISES WITH THE DUSK, WITH THE DUSK THE MOON SETS I am a devout follower of Nichiren Buddhism and it is my desire now that my soul might be cleansed and saved by the great mercy of the Buddha no, you are not the first person to come here; no, you are not the first person to ask about him; no, you are not the first person to suggest he’s a killer THE MOON RISES WITH THE DAWN, WITH THE DAWN THE SUN SETS I want the world to know that I have confessed my guilt of my own free will no, I don’t know where he might have gone; no, I don’t think he could still be alive AMONG THE TUNES FROM THEIR MUSIC-BOXES, AMONG THE SMOKE FROM THEIR OVENS At last I am able to sleep because the man had his addictions, because the man was dying IN THE BLACK FOG, IN THE BLACK MIST
33. I say, Come on, it’s time, let’s go all men have secrets, all men tell lies I WANT TO LOVE YOU LIKE I USED TO LOVE YOU Go where, she asks somewhere to someone I WANT TO LOVE YOU LIKE I LOVED YOU BEFORE Somewhere, anywhere, what does it matter all men are guilty, are guilty of something I WANT TO LOVE YOU WITHOUT SUSPICION It’s so dark here, the city’s that way somehow, somewhere WITHOUT JEALOUSY I won’t let you get sore feet again, I promise you that crimes never stay secret, secrets never stay secret I WANT TO LOVE YOU WITHOUT THE FEAR OF LOSING YOU And I’ve got to get back, the dinner to make, the child to feed men always talk, talk to someone THE FEAR OF HURTING YOU But please sit down, please stay a bit in confidence, in betrayal LIKE I USED TO LOVE YOU The moon and the stars, she says, they look so very red all men have secrets, all men are guilty LIKE I LOVED YOU BEFORE Like the glow from their ovens, like blood on iron all men, always BUT MOST OF ALL, I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME So very, very red always I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME
34. I career from one man into the next, spilling one man’s drink and then the next, until finally I career into one man and his drink and this man turns with all his friends and all the white teeth in all their mouths and he says, If you are looking for a fight Jap, then you’ve found one my father appears to me now, for the last time IN THIS CITY OF NO RESISTANCE The American swings a punch at me, missing me and falling forwards to the laughter of all his friends by the river, by the shore I HATE THE LOSERS, I HATE THE VICTORS You little Japanese shit, I’m going to rip that little yellow tongue right out of your dirty yellow mouth and strangle you with it in his uniform AMERICAN SKIN UPON JAPANESE SKIN, AMERICAN FLESH INTO JAPANESE FLESH The American throws himself on me, straddling me with his thighs and pinning me to the ground, raining down blows from his fists into my face with his medals, with his sword I HATE ALL AMERICANS, I HATE ALL CAUCASIANS You little yellow bastard, I’m going to wipe that stupid smile off your stupid yellow face and knock the shit right out of you he points west, he points east WHITE SKIN ON YELLOW SKIN, WHITE FLESH IN YELLOW FLESH The American throws a last punch, standing up and kicking me once in the ribs and once in the gut everywhere is America IN THIS OCCUPIED CITY, WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE Had enough already, Jap, he laughs, ready to surrender again, are you everywhere, he says, everyone I WILL NOT LIVE ON MY HANDS, I WILL NOT LIVE ON MY KNEES I get to my feet, staggering forward into him, raising my head now, my two black eyes staring into his two blue eyes there are no more Japanese I WILL CLOSE MY LEGS AND PULL UP MY PANTS You got something you want to say to me, Jap, an apology for me, an apology in English, you dumb fucking monkey no more pure Japanese I WILL WIPE MY LIPS AND I WILL SCRUB MY FACE I shake my head and I lean back and now I spit in his face and I turn and I walk away through the crowd and through the doors only mongrel Japanese, only bastard Japanese FUCK AMERICA, FUCK AMERICA, FUCK AMERICA You dirty yellow bastard, come back here and fight like a man, you dirty yellow monkey, come on, boys, let’s get him, get after him you are the last truly Japanese man alive IN THIS OCCUPIED CITY, I AM THE RESISTANCE, I AM THE LIBERATION
35. Down by the river, she is still lying where I left her, looking up at the moon and the stars a poor little girl who had no father or mother THE SOUND OF SCRATCHING We won’t feel the weather now, we are beyond the weather now, not even the damp in the morning everything dead, no one left in the whole of Japan SCRATCHING UNDER THE GROUND Perhaps they’ll lay us side by side in the morgue and then they’ll come with their bags and with their instruments and they’ll lift our sheets so the poor little girl decided to go up to heaven to where the moon shone down IN MEMORIES, TERRIBLE MEMORIES I kneel down on one knee beside her and pull her up onto me, resting her back on my knee, cradling her like a child, and I whisper in her ear, You are so pale, so very pale now, I say, when you were black, so black with him but the moon was just a lump of rotten wood ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT ME They’ll press their fingers into our bodies at various points and then they’ll sniff their fingers and they’ll make their general observations then the little girl went to the sun BEHIND MY BACK And your hair is so wild, didn’t you brush your hair tonight, I’ll tidy you up, don�
��t worry, I’ll tidy you up but the sun was just a withered-up sunflower THOUGHTS, TERRIBLE THOUGHTS They’ll take their largest knives out of their bags and they’ll incise our muscle walls and when she went to the stars ALWAYS WHISPERING ABOUT ME I lift her up, I stand her upright, the water’s just there, there in the river the stars were just little white lice stuck on a piece of dirty old black cloth BEHIND THEIR HANDS Then kneeling up on the slabs and taking their saws from their cases, they’ll cut briskly through our rib cages so the little girl went back to Japan DREAMS, TERRIBLE DREAMS Come to the river, come to the water, I’ll wash everything away, then you’ll be clean but Japan was just an overturned pot of nothing ALL DREAMS, ALL THOUGHTS, ALL MEMORIES Then they’ll lay down their saws and pick up their knives again and incise into us again but more deeply this time the poor little girl completely alone now ALL TERRIBLE, ALL BLOODY, ALL IMPRECISE We wade into the river together, up to our knees, then to our chests, now to our necks she sat down and cried and she’s sitting there still EACH MEMORY, EACH THOUGHT, EACH DREAM Then they’ll take out our hearts, and they’ll weigh our hearts, on their cold metal scales sitting there still, all alone, still crying A WOUND
36. In the Occupied City, I walk away from the riverbank English words, American voices CRIME AND POLITICS In this city of no resistance, I walk up to the road there he is, he’s over there POLITICS AND DISCIPLINE In this city of wounds, I turn another dark corner back to the car, quickly he’s getting away DISCIPLINE AND PUNISHMENT In my ears, car doors slam over there, over there IN THE NEW JAPAN, IN THE NEW WORLD In my heart, the engine revs quick, put your foot down, quick THE ENGINE OF AMERICAN CAPITALISM, THE ENGINE OF JAPANESE CAPITALISM In my mind, the wheels turn over there, quick, over there THE WHEELS OF THE AMERICAN MILITARY, THE WHEELS OF THE JAPANESE BUREAUCRACY In my eyes, the headlights bright quick, over there to the left, at the side of the road THE BRIGHT LIGHTS OF THEIR GREEDY EYES, THE BRIGHT WHITES OF THEIR GREEDY TEETH Bang did we hit him THE EYES OF THE PEOPLE OF JAPAN, THE TEETH OF THE PEOPLE OF AMERICA The engine revs again can you see him JAPAN WATCHING, AMERICA LAUGHING The wheels turn again he’s there, over there LAUGHING AT ME, LAUGHING AT YOU Turn and turn again back up, back up REVERSE COURSE Bang that felt like him, like we got him BANG No more detective no more mysteries NO MORE HOPES OF HAPPY ENDINGS Out of the last corner of my eye, I see them coming half-seen figures, half-heard whispers IN THE BLACK FOG, IN THE BLACK MIST Paralysis, petrification on your hands and on your knees REFLECTED, FRACTURED, DISFIGURED AND OTHER Dead. Dead. Dead is the little Jap bastard dead IN THE BLACK MIRROR, THROUGH THE BLOOD-STAINED LOOKING GLASS Only truth only truth TRUTH Only fragments fragments ONLY FRAGMENTS In the darkness the darkness IN THE DARKNESS I have left the scene of the crime for the last time the scene of the crime THE CRIME, THE SPECTACLE