Lederhosen
By MURAKAMI Haruki
Translated by Alfread Birnbaum
"Mother dumped my father," a friend of my wifes was saying one day, "all because of a pair of shorts."
Ive got to ask. "A pair of shorts?"
"I know it sounds strange," she says, "because it is a strange story."
A large woman, her height and build are almost the same as mine. She tutors electric organ, but most of her free time she divides between swimming and skiing and tennis, so shes trim and always tanned. You might call her a sports fanatic. One days off, she puts in a morning run before heading to the local pool to do laps; then at two or three in the afternoon its tennis, followed by aerobics. Now, I like my sports, but Im nowhere near her league.
I dont mean to suggest shes aggressive or obsessive about things. Quite the contrary, shes really rather retiring; shed never dream of putting emotional pressure on anyone. Only shes driven; her body--and very likely the spirit attached to that body--craves vigorous activity, relentless as a comet.
Which may have something to do with why shes unmarried. Oh, shes had affairs--the woman may be a little on the large side, but she is beautiful--shes been proposed to, even agreed to take the plunge. But inevitably, whenever its gotten to the wedding stage, some problem has come up and everything falls through.
Like my wife says, "Shes just unlucky."
"Well, I guess," I sympathize.
Im not in total agreement with the wife on this. True, luck may rule over parts of a persons life and luck may cast patches of shadow across the ground of our being, but where theres a will--much less a will strong enough to swim thirty laps or run twenty kilometers--theres a way to overcome most any trouble. No, her heart was never set on marrying, is how I see it. Marriage just doesnt fall within the sweep of her comet, at least not entirely.
And so she keeps on tutoring electric organ, devoting every free moment to sports, falling regularly in and out of unlucky love.
Its a rainy Sunday afternoon and shes come two hours earlier than expected, while my wife is still out shopping.
"Forgive me," she apologizes. "I took a rain check on todays tennis, which left me two hours to spare. Id have been bored out of my mind being alone at home, so I just thought...Am I interrupting anything?"
Not at all, I say. I didnt feel quite in the mood to work and was just sitting around, cat on my lap, watching a video. I show her in, go to the kitchen, and make coffee. Two cups, for watching the last twenty minutes of Jaws. Of course, weve both seen the movie before--probably more than once?so neither of us is particularly riveted to the tube. But were watching it anyway because its there in front of our eyes.
Its THE END. The credits roll up. No sign of the wife. So we chat a bit. Sharks, seaside, swimming.... Still no wife. We go on talking. Now, I suppose I like the woman well enough, but after an hour of this our lack of things in common becomes obvious. The fact is, shes my wifes friend, not mine.
Im already thinking about popping in the next video when she suddenly brings up the story of her parents divorce. I cant fathom the connection--at least to my mind, theres no link between swimming and her folks splitting up--but I uess a reason is where you find it.
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