by Unknown
“ ’Bout ten months after Gene started Needle Patrol the old tailor came down with a bad case of hepatitis and had to be isolated from everyone else. While this guy was in the infirmary the camp got orders to transfer a hundred or so prisoners, and the old guy’s family was in the transfer group. Gene tried to stop it, but nobody’d lift a finger to help—one sergeant even threatened to have Gene brought up on charges if he didn’t let it drop. In the meantime, the tailor developed a whole damn slew of secondary infections and kept getting worse, feverish and hallucinating, trying to get out of bed and babbling in his sleep. He lingered for about a week, then he died. My Gene, he almost cried when he heard the news.
“The day after the tailor died Gene was typing up all the guards’ weekly reports—you know, them hour-by-hour, night-by-night deals. Turned out that the three watchtower guards—and mind you, these towers was quite a distance from each other—but all three of them reported seeing this old tailor at the same time, at exactly 3:47 in the morning. And all three of them said he was carrying his quilt. Gene said he read that and got cold all over, so he called the infirmary to check on what time the tailor had died. He died at 3:47 in the morning, all right, but he died the night after the guards reported seeing him—up till then, he’d been in a coma for most of the week.
“Gene tried to track down the tailor’s family but didn’t have any luck. It wouldn’t have mattered much anyway, ’cause the quilt come up missing.
“He didn’t tell me about any of this till our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. He took me to New York City so’s I could see a real Broadway show. On our last day there we started wandering around Manhattan, stopping at all these little shops. We came across this one antique store that had all this ‘Early Pioneer’ stuff displayed in its window. I stopped to take a look at this big ol’ ottoman and I asked Gene if he thought there were people fool enough to pay six hundred dollars for a footstool. He didn’t answer me right away so I asked him again, and when he didn’t answer this time I turned around to see him all white in the face. He let go of my hand and goes running into this store, climbs over some tables and such to get in the window, and he rips this dusty old blanket off a rocking chair.
“It was the quilt that Japanese tailor’d been working on in the camp. They only wanted a hundred dollars for it, so you bet your butt my Gene slapped down the cash. We took it back to our hotel room and spread it out on the bed—oh, it was such a beautiful thing. All the colors and pictures, the craftsmanship … I got teary-eyed when Gene told me the story. But the thing that really got to both of us was that down in the right-hand corner of the quilt was this one patch that had these figures stitched into it. Four figures. Three of them was positioned way up high above the fourth one, and they formed a triangle. The fourth figure was down below, walking kind of all stooped over and carrying what you’d think was a bunch of clothes. But Gene, he took one look and knew what it was—it was a picture of that tailor’s soul carrying his quilt, walking around the camp for the last time, looking around for someone to pass his memories on to because he couldn’t find his family and he couldn’t go back to the underworld on account of what Datsueba would do to him. He was lost forever, and there wasn’t nothing he could do about it. It couldn’t be helped. Shikata ga nai. Isn’t that sad?
“See here, this’s the quilt. And this here needle? Gene gave it to me. It was the one that old tailor used. I been adding things to it, ’cause it seemed to me that’s what my Gene would want me to do if he was here. See this? This is part of the suit Gene wore when we got married. And this here come off the baby gown that my mom made for Cindy when I had her. Them things there?—those’re the dog tags that the army sent to us after Jimmy was killed over in Vietnam. The way I figure it, Gene was like family to the tailor, so it’s only right that I do this. It’s only right.
“Thing is, I’m not as sprightly as I used to be, and except for Cindy all my family’s gone—she don’t much want to have anything to do with me. I’m not even sure where it is she and her husband are livin’ these days. And if—oh, Lord, look at me, will you? Getting all teary-eyed again.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen to this after I’m gone, you see? And I don’t know where any of them souls’ clothes was stored. I can keep adding things from people living in this world, but I got no way to get them souls’ clothes. I don’t know how I’ll know when this quilt is finished, and if it ain’t finished and I die and don’t pass it on to someone, then them souls will be trapped in the underworld forever. And that scares me something powerful, it does. Right down to the ground.”
Um, well, the first thing I have to tell you is that when the time comes, don’t waver. Be well sure that you make your mind up beforehand.
Yes, yes, that’s right, you should make up your mind about what you want to learn, but more than that, be mentally prepared. You have to go into it ready and with resolve.
I mean, letting them into you, that takes a bit of courage, right? So when the time comes, more than a few lose their nerve. If you start hemming and hawing, you’ll just ruin it for everyone else.
Exactly. Time is important. Time is money, they say. You don’t want to get all the way here only to have time run out before you learn anything, do you?
Oh, and there’s one more thing I have to tell you. I’m sure you’re all aware, but just in case, yeah?
If you want them to show you the future, you have to give them the past. Got it?
Oh, is that too vague?
Yes, right, right, that’s it. Memories, memories. I’m talking about your memories. Pleasant memories and painful memories. They’ll be gone from your head. In exchange for a vision of the future.
Well, to really simplify it, in order to know the future, you have to lose an equal or greater amount of memories. That’s how it seems to go, at least.
Of course, there’s not a contract or any such thing, nor is it some written rule. It’s just an inference, based on previous examples, that that’s likely the way it goes. Lay out the long list of all the many things gained and lost by the previous participants, and that seems to be the only reasonable conclusion. It’s the tidiest explanation.
As for why it’s like that, well, there are many opinions. Of course all of them are no more than hypothesis or conjecture.
Sure, I can give you an example.
Maybe it’s what we have and they don’t. They don’t have a past. What’s past to us is future to them, and like how we can recollect the past, they can see the future. Therefore, we exchange the past we hold for the future they see. That kind of thing.
Yes, you’re right. Certainly there are other explanations. Instead of an exchange, it could be something simpler, like that they use the memories in your brain to perform a sort of calculation that derives the future. And since it’s not a reversible process, those memories are inevitably destroyed. There are many other explanations, but, well, that just indicates that nobody knows for sure. The only thing clear to us is that nobody knows.
Since we don’t even know what happens, we certainly don’t understand their intentions. How could we? We don’t even know if they have any in the first place.
Oh, no, no, don’t get me wrong. We understand the basic phenomenon, in terms of what happens. A lot of people have been through it, and with plenty of witnesses.
Since you’ve all come here, I’m sure you know this much, but again, I’ll explain it just in case. When the time comes, I don’t want to have to hear any of you going, “But I didn’t hear about thaaaat.”
Here, I’ll draw it for you. Though I’m no artist, so it might be more confusing this way, ha ha ha!
Okay, so this here is someone’s body. And this teeming bunch are them.
They have scissors for hands and many legs, so they kind of look like crabs, don’t they?
Right, as far as their shape goes, they’re like crabs.
Oh, a
nd while I’m on the subject, those things at the end of crabs’ arms—in the West, they don’t think of them as scissors. Japanese people, on the other hand, perceive them as scissors. There’s even that nursery rhyme “Crab Barber.” Tell a Japanese person “crab” and they’ll think “scissors.” See someone making a V sign with their hand, joining and separating the two fingers, clip, clip, and anyone would recognize that as an impression of a crab.
But apparently not so with Westerners. That gesture doesn’t look like a crab to them.
So, in the West, what do they call those things?
They call them not scissors, but—would you believe it?—claws. You see, according to a person’s culture, things can take on entirely different meanings.
But if you think about it, crabs don’t cut, they pinch, so functionally they are closer to claws than scissors. It’s true. Maybe Japanese people attach more importance to form rather than function.
Either way, for our purposes, we’ll be calling them scissors. We are Japanese, after all.
Since I’ve drawn these scissors on each of their hands, they look just like crabs, don’t they? So these crablike things swarm toward the humans.
And then what do they do next?
Right, they go into us.
Yes, right, right, right, through our holes.
They enter through our holes.
They come in through our holes.
They swarm in.
Yes, right, right, you’re right. We have more than one hole.
They come in through all kinds of holes. The human species has many different holes. Nostrils, ear canals. Of course, our mouths are holes too.
Yes, right, right, our pores are holes too. We have all kinds. There are holes in, and there are holes out, and there are holes that go in and out. Suffice it to say, humans have many holes.
And not just humans. Animals are all like that. We creatures live among holes. You may as well say we are holes.
And no, I’m not entirely joking. Some say that that might be how they perceive us.
Holes.
And perfect holes. To them, our holes are just right.
How are we just right, you ask?
First of all, we have the proper moistness. And our body temperature is stable, just at the right warmth. Our salinity is ideal. Oh, and also, we have plenty for them to eat. That’s very important.
In other words, we maintain a steady, desirable environment. As long as we’re still living, that is.
Yes, that’s important. That’s why they keep us from dying. Our deaths would inconvenience them.
Oh, and I can’t forget, we’re soft. Not only do our holes not close over, we’re soft enough for them to burrow deeper and deeper within.
They like that kind of hole. They’re like crabs in that way too. Well, we don’t know if they “like” anything, but they seem eager to go in.
Oh, if you want to know what it is they do, well then, they use those scissors to come in.
First, they close their scissors—that is, they form the tips of their scissors into a point and push them in. Once their scissors are far enough inside, they open them. After that, there’s no easy way to get the crabs out. They spread open the ends of their scissors far wider than the hole’s opening. And their scissors are covered in tiny barbs that dig into our flesh, so if you try to pull them out, there’ll be blood everywhere. And you still won’t get them out. All pain and no gain. Well, more like all blood and no gain, ha ha ha!
Then, when you give up trying to pull them out, they’ll close their scissors and stick them deeper inside. Once they’ve extended their arm out all the way, they open the scissors again.
And just like that, they force their way deeper and deeper.
They come in many sizes, and each one finds a hole the size for them.
And they enter.
Anyway, there are many sizes.
The largest are about as big as us. But ones that big are quite rare. On the small end, we don’t really know. We’ve discovered some a few microns large. There might be some even smaller, like on the nano scale.
Regardless, each of them, of their respective sizes, goes in each hole as far as they can. Then they use their scissors.
The ones that share a hole use their scissors to join together. From the largest to the smallest, in a smooth gradation.
They join together into a single form.
To tell you the truth, we don’t know why they do it.
They wouldn’t tell us if we asked.
Anyway, they go into the holes, where they join together. And the result, the providers of the holes can see their own future.
That’s what we call it.
Right. That’s right, it does feel less like seeing it than suddenly remembering something they always knew.
And yet of course, we can’t know if it’s really the future.
You know how you can stimulate certain parts of your brain with electric impulses and see something from your past, or suddenly hear a sound you’d once heard, or see a vision you interpret as the afterlife? It might be something like that.
It’s like that in that you feel like what you see is your future. Maybe that’s one of the functions of our brains.
But even if it is a part of our brains, it might just exist for them to come inside. Perhaps we live in a symbiotic relationship with them.
Some people say that they don’t show us the future. Instead, they program us to work toward the future they showed us.
But even if that’s the case, to that person, that future comes true. By that meaning, they did see the future.
At least to that person, there’s no difference.
And it’s not just something the person is commanded to do. What they see always comes true. It’s not like they merely want something to happen. It really happens.
That said, we don’t perform a follow-up survey on each and every person, and even if we did, we can’t be certain that everyone reports the truth. Even if everyone honestly answers that it went well, and nobody says it didn’t, some of them could be lying to themselves.
But what we can say for sure is …
Everyone who experiences it has a very contented expression.
If I could show you a movie of it, I think you’d understand what I mean—and yes, you can find them all over the Web—but anyway, their faces look satisfied, or how should I put it, they have really nice expressions.
Yes, nice expressions.
People come back with nice expressions. No doubt about it, they are content to their core. That’s the kind of expression it is.
Yes, mine too.
This expression.
Ha ha ha! You’re all making me embarrassed now, looking at me like that. But seriously, I can’t see for myself if my expression is a nice one. I know my looks aren’t nice. That much I know. But it’s true that I’m content. I’m satisfied with myself right now. It’s the truth. I can say it with complete confidence.
Yes, they showed me my future.
It was at a time I was most unsure of where my life was headed.
I went on a journey.
I wanted to discover my true self.
I wanted to find myself.
Yes, yes, one of those journeys of self-discovery.
And at the end of it, I arrived here.
I’d heard they would show me my future.
So why not let them, I thought.
I was lost, completely adrift. If I actually had a future, I wanted them to show it to me.
Yes, right, I came here in more of a roundabout fashion.
And then I went to them.
Well, the result is right here. You can see my face.
Yes, I saw it. I saw my own future.
They provided me the clear future—something
I’d never had before. In exchange, I gave up memories from my hazy past.
Yes, yes, right, this is it now.
This is that future.
I saw myself here, talking to people like you, guiding them along. This is that very future. I saw myself just like this.
And yes, that’s right. The prediction came true completely. Right?
I’m proof.
Well, I can say that, but since only I know if I’m telling the truth, it’s not much proof at all.
In the end, you all will have to experience it for yourself to really know.
What’s that? You’re right, I’m not the only one.
Most of the guides—nearly all of us, I think—saw themselves working here in their futures, and then came here to work. Just like me.
Yes, of course I was happy.
In one instant, I realized this was what I was meant to do, and this was the path I must take. And I saw my expression as I worked here—my contented look.
Yeah, in the past, it was more gloomy and miserable.
Oh no, no, I’m not trying to make you believe what I’m telling you. You have to experience it for yourself.
I have nothing else to say to you now.
So, shall we go?
Follow after me, and don’t wander off.
All right, everyone stop. Okay, let’s all stop here for a moment. Is everyone here? Could everyone please look around yourselves and make sure?
What’s that? There’s someone being pinched, and they can’t move?
Are they part of our group? Oh, they’re not. Well, leave them. We can’t do anything about it. I’ll explain what’s going on there.
Oh, and don’t get too close to anyone who’s being pinched like that.
No one in our group is experiencing that, right? You’re all fine? All right then, listen up.
Ah, see, we’re about to enter their territory, so before we do, I need you to be mindful of this one thing. Right, I know you want to say, “Enough, enough, we know already.”