Just then I heard a cat mewing. The same white kitten I had seen before had again crawled under the desk. When I stood up from the chair to shoo it away, I was again overcome by powerful nausea.
I rushed to the sink and threw up. All that came out was some cloudy white sputum, the same as that spewed up by the mayor at the inn. It was the same symptom. I felt a sharp pain stab my lower abdomen, as if launching a follow-up attack. I rushed to the toilet and passed a watery stool. Maybe I was imagining things, but my body felt feverish. I took my temperature and it was over thirty-nine degrees.
What on earth could it be? It was clearly not a simple case of food poisoning.
Suddenly I was gripped by an intense sense of dread.
It can’t be…
What I had in mind was a contagious disease notifiable by law. It was terrifying even to utter its name. The fact that I was the only doctor on the island, that I had no satisfactory medicines and that we were far from the main island, let alone Tokyo—the sheer number of similarly unfavorable conditions plunged me into a state of panic.
However, I had to confirm it one way or another. That was a doctor’s job, and also knowing the truth was the only way to overcome fear.
Once again I looked over the stock of medical supplies. There was only a small microscope of the type you might see in a science class at middle school. I doubted I would be able to detect the pathogenic microorganism with this. Even if I sent saliva and urine samples to Kamui for analysis, it would take ten or more hours just to get there, and even longer to get to Tokyo. The only other method was to test it on an animal.
I glanced at the kitten cowering under the desk. It drew back in alarm, but I used a stick to chase it out and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. It set up a high-pitched mewling, but I paid it no heed as I bound its four limbs to the desk.
I washed my hands and picked up a syringe. I felt shaky, perhaps because of the fever. Probably the red spots were already appearing on my body too.
I sucked up some of my sputum from the washbasin. The kitten bound to the desk bared its teeth and raised a wail that set my nerves on edge. I dabbed its tender skin with alcohol, and then plunged the needle in. Its body shuddered slightly. After injecting it, I set it free on the floor. Once again it crawled under the desk and looked up at me with dazed eyes.
Afterwards, there was nothing to do but wait for the reaction. For the time being, I gave the people at the inn some medicine to control diarrhea.
The sun went down with no particular change in the kitten’s condition, but in the early hours its movements became increasingly sluggish. I tried giving it some milk, but it made no move to drink it. Even if I prodded it, its response was dull. It just wailed feebly, but made no attempt to move.
Dawn broke and the sun came streaming in. Just as I was inadvertently nodding off, weary from having stayed awake all night, the kitten abruptly started chasing around as if it had gone quite insane. It appeared to have lost its bearings as it dashed haphazardly at the wall, crashed into it, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. It got up again, but its back swayed and saliva drooled from its mouth. It tottered five or six steps more but again collapsed on the floor. It appeared to have no energy for crying and left long trails of cloudy white spittle across the floor.
These were the typical textbook symptoms. A chill ran down my spine. There could be no doubt about it. Soon the kitten’s body would lapse into convulsions and it would die.
I took off my shirt and examined my own body. As I expected, vivid red spots had erupted on my chest and abdomen.
I’m done for now.
I chewed my lip at the thought. Suddenly I was startled by a shadowy figure.
The Otaki woman was standing outside the glass door staring at me openmouthed. I hastily put my shirt back on.
She stood looking at me a while longer, but then dropped her gaze and, opening the door, brought in the breakfast tray as usual. She put it down on the desk without a word, bowed to me, and went out.
I turned my gaze to the kitten. It lay there motionless on the floor. I picked it up, but it was already dead.
I took a towel and wiped away the sweat from my body. I glanced at the breakfast, but had absolutely no appetite.
I had just finished disposing of the kitten’s body when the officer arrived, weariness showing on his face.
“Two more people have fallen ill. The headmaster and the postmaster.”
“It isn’t food poisoning. It’s a contagious disease.”
I felt shaky, and leaned on the desk with my hands to steady myself. The young officer paled.
“Doctor, are you sure?”
“I don’t joke about things like this. Take the new cases to the inn immediately, and keep them isolated from everyone else.”
I quickly prepared an antiseptic solution before rushing with the officer to the inn.
At any rate, we had to contain the infection. Then we needed a serum, which in the case of this disease had to be injected within at least twenty-four hours of the symptoms appearing. Would it be possible to get hold of the serum in time?
The news of the outbreak of a contagious disease spread through the island in no time. It was abnormally fast. True the island was small, but it also seemed that the islanders had an instinctive awareness of their shared fate.
I used the radio telephone at the post office to contact the hospital on the main island. I got through immediately, but the line crackled with static and I struggled to catch what was being said.
“This is the new doctor at South Kamui, appointed three days ago,” I said raising my voice. My head still felt groggy. “I am reporting the outbreak of a contagious disease on the island.”
When I said the name of the illness, the doctor on the other end of the line in Kamui responded loudly, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I tested it on an animal and got a positive reaction.”
I described in detail the symptoms that had appeared in the kitten. The doctor on the other end listened in silence. “In that case there can be no doubt. But it’s strange,” he commented.
“What is?”
“This disease is previously unknown in the Kamui Archipelago. What’s strange is how on earth it got here. There have been epidemics in Hong Kong and South East Asia recently, but I haven’t heard of anyone traveling from there to South Kamui.”
“Ah—” I swallowed hard. I had been so shocked by the sudden outbreak of the disease and the fact that I myself had also contracted it that I had not spared a thought for the crucial matter of the origin of the outbreak. I had probably subconsciously resolved not to think about it.
The only possible conclusion was that the disease had been brought to the island by an outsider. And there were just two visitors—myself and the traveling salesman. I could not imagine that the salesman had recently been to Hong Kong or South East Asia. Considering how talkative he was, it was inconceivable that he would not have boasted about his experiences had he traveled abroad recently. That left me, and I had indeed spent time in Hong Kong just before coming here. I had already been feeling nauseous when I transferred from the K Maru to the fishing boat. There was no doubt about it: I was responsible for this outbreak. Me, a doctor! I was doubly dismayed.
“Is something wrong?” asked doctor on the other end of the line. The crackle of static continued unabated.
“No, no,” I said hurriedly. “Have you got any serum on hand?”
“I’ll have a look. Hold on a moment, please,” he said.
While I waited for his answer, I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and looked around me. The officer had accompanied me here, but had already returned to the inn out of concern for the others. I was relieved to find myself alone. I did not want anybody to know that I had been the origin of the outbreak. I hardly knew the islanders, and I certainly did not trust them. If they knew that I was responsible for the contagion, there was no knowing what they would do. Apart from that,
there was my own pride as a doctor. It was no dishonor for a doctor to have brought in the disease, but the fact was I had decided to inject myself with serum as soon as it arrived without telling anyone else.
The voice on the other end of the line returned. “Following an epidemic in South East Asia last year, we brought some in from the mainland just to be on the safe side. How many cases have you got?”
“Six. How many—?” I could feel the anxiety welling up inside me as I asked.
“Six cases?” He raised his voice slightly. There was a crackle of static. “Oh dear. We only have five doses of the serum here.”
“Only five doses?” I was again gripped with panic. It was not so much consternation as sheer terror at the implication for myself of being one dose short. “If we request extra serum from the mainland, how long will that take?”
“At the very fastest, twenty-four hours. We can bring it to Kamui by plane, but from here to South Kamui, ship is the only way. There is no way we can get it to you quicker than twenty-four hours.”
That was too long. “It’ll be too late by then,” I gasped. “You must know that with this illness the serum has to be administered within twenty-four hours of the first symptoms. Twelve hours have already passed.”
“Unfortunately there are only five doses.”
Another crackle of static set my nerves even more on edge.
“Well, in any case, please send those as quickly as possible,” I said.
“Shall we order more from the mainland?”
“Yes, please do. But please don’t tell anyone else that there are only five doses. I don’t want to spread panic.”
“Understood. If you need help, I can come over to provide assistance.”
“No,” I hastily refused. If a doctor came from the mainland, they would know that I had been the carrier. “As long as we get the serum, I’ll be fine on my own. There’s no need to worry.”
Having said this with unnecessary emphasis, I hung up. When I left the post office, the sun was as dazzling as ever. In the tension I had forgotten the nausea, but now I felt another wave sweep over me.
I was in a dangerous position. When the serum arrived, it would naturally come to light that there was one dose short. So what should I do? As a doctor, I should certainly sacrifice myself and use the serum to save the other five patients. That was a doctor’s duty, and especially so since I was responsible for having brought the illness to the island.
But I did not want to die. Life was too precious. Taking responsibility and sacrificing myself in order to save my five patients would doubtless be commendable, but I was not so honorable as that. Apart from anything else, I did not want to die on this godforsaken island.
As I walked to the inn, I mulled over what I could possibly do to save myself.
As I waited for the serum to arrive, I suppressed the intermittent waves of nausea and strove to maintain an outward show of calm. In order to manage this, I secretly injected myself with a stimulant.
If the islanders found out I was ill, they would realize that I was the one who had brought the infection, and that could well lead to my death.
As the news about the contagion spread, the islanders began to gather around the inn. At first I saw a few figures standing there and assumed they must be concerned family members of the five patients. However, their number gradually increased, and by the afternoon almost all the island’s three hundred or so inhabitants were there. The elderly, the young, and the children were there. Even a baby came, carried on its mother’s back.
They did not shout or cry out, but just silently surrounded the inn. Even after one or two hours had passed, they showed no inclination to leave. A few squatted down, but otherwise the wall of people standing there remained unbroken. There was barely any expression on those uniformly suntanned faces, and I had no idea what they were thinking.
“What the hell are they looking at?” I asked the officer with a frown. Being watched was not exactly pleasant, especially given the weight on my conscience.
“Everyone is worried,” he replied.
“But,” I glanced at the wall of people, “it’s not going to help at all. How about they go home and get on with their usual routine?”
“I don’t think anyone feels like doing that. For everyone here, it’s as if we all belong to one big family. That’s why they are gathering.”
The officer’s face showed that he thought it was proper for them to do so. The phrase “a shared fate” flitted across the back of my mind. I was being monitored by a large family group of some three hundred people. As I gazed at the thick cordon of people, I realized my own carelessness, and once again felt dismayed.
It was that woman Otaki. When she stood looking at me through the glass door of the dispensary, she must have seen the red spots that had emerged on my body. She also probably saw the cat’s dead body. If she had spoken to anyone else about that, then it would certainly have spread amongst all the people gathered here now.
I could not make out Otaki among them. The feeling of unease would not go away. I was gripped by the anxiety that the entire island knew that I was sick too, and the fear that they may know that I was guilty of causing the epidemic. I even began to feel that the people forming the cordon were not worried about the five patients, but were observing me alone. Before coming to the island I had thought the population of three hundred and forty-six was inordinately low, but now that I was surrounded by such a large group of people I felt overwhelmed by them.
As sunset approached, the wind picked up. Just then the ship bringing the serum from the main island finally arrived.
I went with the officer to the wharf to collect it. The islanders followed in droves at a set distance, and watched as I took the box containing the serum. I did not complain to the officer about them again. After all, he was one of them.
As expected, there were only five doses of serum. I stared at the five ampoules in the box and once again thought how this would signify the death of one human being—of someone other than myself, naturally.
The westering sun had become a huge scarlet ball of fire that quivered as it began to sink below the horizon, staining the landscape red as it went down. When I had first arrived on the island the beauty of the setting sun had taken my breath away, but now the same scene was ominous and creepy.
On the way back to the inn, I surreptitiously slipped one of the ampoules of serum into my shirt pocket unseen by the officer. At that moment, I condemned to death one of the patients asleep in the inn, but I tried not to think about that. The sun went down and a cool breeze blew up from the sea, but I was sweating profusely from my forehead.
When we arrived back the inn, the salesman complained of feeling a little nauseous, his eyes fearful like a mouse’s. The mayor, the landlady and her maid, the headmaster, the postmaster and now the salesman too had all fallen sick. It was clear that the cause of the infection had been the exchange of sake cups at my welcome party. Eventually the officer would probably fall sick too, but the serum being sent from the mainland would arrive in plenty of time for him and the salesman.
After reassuring the salesman, I hid myself away and injected the serum into my own arm. Simultaneously with the discomfort from the needle, I felt a small but sharp pain in the depths of my being. I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of it. I was a doctor. If I were to collapse, five more people would probably die. As the only doctor here, surely it was natural I should administer the serum to myself first? I repeated the same self-deluding words over and over like a worn-out record. I knew perfectly well how flawed this logic was. I had secretly administered the serum to myself because life was too dear to me, was all. Now I would probably not die, but could not be sure that I was safe. There was Otaki for one, and then the problem of my own character remained. I was not confident of being able to go through with such wickedness.
I went back to the sick room and, summoning the officer, showed him the box containing just four ampoules.
“So we’re one short?” He paled and peered into the box.
“That’s right,” I nodded, averting my eyes from the victims. “I have requested more from the mainland, but it won’t arrive in time for those five.”
Pointlessly, I glanced at my watch. My nausea had gone. I would not die now. Did I even fully understand what that meant?
“What should we do, Doctor?”
The officer looked as if he was about to burst into tears. Once again, I pointlessly looked at my watch. The distorted image of my face was reflected in the glass.
“I really don’t know. There are five patients and just four doses of serum. Please decide who I should administer them to. I can’t decide myself.”
“Um—” The officer started to say something, and then stopped. He looked forlornly at the patients, and then out of the window. The wall of people was still there.
The inn’s lights were on, but the village was in darkness. All of the islanders without exception must be gathered around the inn. They had remained there motionless for several hours already. How much longer would they stay?
Looking bewildered, the officer was sunk in thought. Then, his face pale, he went to the mayor’s bedside and started talking to him in a low voice. Probably he intended to ask him for instructions. But how could the mayor decide someone’s death? I was convinced he would be unable to reach a decision, and I again resigned myself to the torment of a long wait. In the event, though, it was surprisingly quick. When the officer returned to me, the confused expression had disappeared from his face, which surprised me.
“We have decided to consult the oracle,” he told me in a calm voice.
“The oracle?” I was astounded.
“As long as it’s the god’s will, everyone will be satisfied. It’s the best way. It’s the only way. Any islander should have known that right away, but I was too confused…”
The Isle of South Kamui and Other Stories Page 3