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Night on the Milky Way Railway

Page 5

by Kenji Miyazawa


  "Yes, there must have been at least thirty of them," answered the girl. "It was the peacocks making that music like a harp."

  Giovanni suddenly felt terribly alone, and wanted to screw up his face and shout:

  Campanella, let's jump out here and play!

  Just there the river divided into two. An immensely tall tower rose up from the middle of the pitch black island that formed between the two branches of the river, and standing on top of it was a man in loose-fitting clothes and a red hat. He was looking up at the sky, giving signals using a red flag in one hand and a green flag in the other. At first he was waving the red flag in the air, but then suddenly pulled it down and hid it out of sight behind his back. He then raised the green flag as high as he could, and started waving it furiously like the conductor of an orchestra.

  Immediately from out of the sky came a sound like a rain storm, and one after another, a mass of black shadows flew like bullets from a gun over to the other side of the river. Giovanni was leaning half-way out of the train, looking up at the sky. Tens of thousands of small birds, each squawking furiously, flew across the beautiful, beautiful wide-open purplish-blue sky; flock after flock.

  "Look at all the birds," said Giovanni from outside the window.

  "Whoa..!" exclaimed Campanella, looking up at the sky. Just then the man standing in the tower with the loose-fitting clothes suddenly raised his red flag and started waving it like crazy. Instantly the birds ceased crossing, and at the same time, from down river, there came a huge booming noise, like something being squashed, and then silence.

  And then suddenly the flagman with the red hat was waving his green flag again, yelling:

  "Migration birds. Now is the time to cross! Migration birds. Now is the time to cross!"

  His voice could be heard loud and clear. And simultaneously a group of tens of thousands of birds flew straight across the sky. Kaoru stuck her head out the same middle window the boys had theirs out, and looked up at the sky with a beautiful glow upon her cheeks.

  "Oh, there are so many birds. The sky looks so beautiful."

  She was speaking to Giovanni, but Giovanni was still feeling a little peevish and he ignored her, continuing to look up at the sky. Kaoru gave a small sigh and quietly returned to her seat. Feeling sorry for her, Campanella also pulled his head back in and sat down to look at his map.

  "Is that man directing the birds?" Kaoru asked Campanella quietly.

  "He's signaling the migrating birds. It's probably because a flare was being sent up from somewhere," he answered with uncertainty. Suddenly it was all quiet inside the train. Giovanni wanted to pull his head back in too, but he didn't want to show his face inside the brightly lit carriage, so he stayed upright and started to whistle.

  Why do I have to be so sad? I wish I could be more pure-hearted and generous. Way down there, by the edge of the river, there's a tiny blue smoky flame. It looks really cold and silent. I'll calm myself by staring at that.

  Giovanni pressed a hand on either side of his head that was hot and aching, and stared at the flame.

  Ah, isn't there anyone who will travel with me forever? Campanella is having so much fun talking with that girl. It makes me so miserable.

  Giovanni's eyes once again filled with tears, and the Celestial River became all white and hazy as if it were now far in the distance.

  The distance to the river had slowly widened, and the train was now traveling along the top of a cliff. The river bank and the dark cliffs on the other side rose higher and higher as the train continued downstream. Suddenly the train passed a large corn plant. Beneath its curly leaves, red silky fibers spilt out of a large ear, its fruit, like a pearl, visible for only the briefest of moments. The corn plants then grew in number, forming a row between the edge of the cliff and the railway line. Giovanni pulled his head back in and looked out the opposite window and saw that this field of giant corn covered almost everything to the horizon. The tips of those curly leaves, rustling gently in the breeze, were covered in dew, sparkling with reds and greens like diamonds packed with rays from the midday sun.

  "Is that all corn?" said Campanella to Giovanni, but Giovanni couldn't get rid of that feeling he had, and just muttered, "Yeah, I guess so," and continued staring out the window.

  Just then the vibrations of the train began to soften, and the lights of several signals and a rail line switch passed by, and then the train pulled up at a small railway station.

  The clock directly in front of the carriage window was pointing directly to the hour of two, and in the middle of that silent, silent field, without wind or rattle from the train, the clock pendulum carefully etched away time - tick, tick, tick.

  And then, from the farthest reaches of a far distant field, came the faintest whispers of a melody, floating as if on a thread, in the intervals between each tick of the clock.

  "Oh, that's the New World Symphony," murmured the girl to herself, while looking at Giovanni. Inside the carriage, the passengers including the tall young man dressed in black, were all dreaming peacefully.

  This is such a peaceful place. Why can't I enjoy myself more? Why is it just me that feels so lonely? But I can't believe Campanella! We are supposed to be riding this train together and he spends all his time talking to that girl. I feel so miserable.

  Giovanni again covered half his face with his hands, as he continued staring out the window on the opposite side. The train gave a whistle as clear as glass and quietly moved off. Campanella was whistling the Star Safari song, a lonely look on his face.

  "Oh yes, this is a terrific plateau here," said an elderly-sounding man from behind. He spoke crisply as though he had just woken.

  "If you wanted to plant corn here you'd have to get a pole and make a hole around sixty centimeters deep, and put the seed in that, otherwise it wouldn't grow.

  "Is that so? It must be a long way down to the river."

  "Certainly, yes. It ranges from between 600 to 1,800 meters. It's quite a massive canyon really."

  It suddenly occurred to Giovanni that they must be on top of the Colorado Plateau. Campanella was still whistling sadly to himself. Kaoru was staring out the same window as Giovanni, her cheeks the color of an apple wrapped in silk. Suddenly the corn disappeared from view and an enormous black field opened up in its place. The music of the New World Symphony became more and more distinct, streaming across from the far edge of the horizon. Then, from out of that pitch-black field came an Indian, a white feather in his hair, stones spread across his arms and chest, a small arrow in his bow as he raced after the train at terrific speed.

  "Hey, there's an Indian. There's an Indian. Look, look."

  The young man woke up. Giovanni and Campanella both got to their feet.

  "He's running this way, look, he's running this way. Do you think he is chasing us?" asked the girl.

  "No, he's not chasing after the train. He's either hunting something, or he's doing some kind of dance," said the young man reaching into his pocket as he stood up, appearing to have forgotten where he was.

  The Indian really did look as if he were half dancing. The way he was placing his feet was quite strange, and he could have been running a lot faster if he wanted. Suddenly the white feather leaned forward as if it might fall, and the Indian came to a complete stop, firing his bow into the sky with lightning speed. A crane fluttered noisily through the air as it fell, falling into the outstretched arms of the Indian who had run to catch it. He then stood there laughing, extremely pleased with himself.

  But the figure of the Indian standing there staring at the train with the crane in his arms grew smaller and smaller, fading into the distance. Two white gleaming insulators on top of a power pole flashed by in succession and once again there was a forest of corn.

  Looking out the window closest to their seat, they could see that the train was traveling along a very high cliff, and the river in the valley way down below was wide and bright.

  "Yes, it's downhill f
rom here. From here the train has to descend all the way to the water's edge, so it's no easy task. The steepness of the gradient makes it impossible for trains to come from the other direction. See, we are picking up speed now," said the same man as before.

  The train descended further and further. The passengers caught a glimpse of the bright river below each time the railway line pushed up against the edge of the cliff. Giovanni's mood began to brighten. A sad-looking child was standing out the front of a tiny cottage looking up at the train as it passed by, and Giovanni hollered out to him.

  The train picked up more and more speed. The passengers were now leaning right back and holding on tightly to their arm rests. Giovanni looked across at Campanella and they laughed together. They leveled out once again with the Celestial River that was now flowing with far greater force, occasionally sending up splashes of light as it flowed by, its shore dotted with pink fringe flowers. The train slowed down, finally regaining its composure.

  On each side of the river stood a flag with a star and a pickax.

  "I wonder what that flag is," said Giovanni, finding his voice at last.

  "Yeah, I don't know, it's not on the map. There's an iron ship over there."

  "Yeah."

  "Perhaps they are building a bridge," said the girl.

  "Ah that's it, it's the flag of the Engineer Brigade. They are doing bridge-building drills. But I don't see any soldiers."

  Just then, a little further downstream near the shore on the other side, a brilliant flash raced through that invisible water, sending it up into a giant column, and at the same time there was the sound of a great blast.

  "They are blasting! They are blasting!" cried Campanella, jumping up excitedly.

  The water that had risen up like a column disappeared, but dozens of huge salmon and trout had been flung up out of the river, their white bellies glittering as they traced an arc through the air, before falling back down into the water again. Giovanni felt as if all of his troubles had been lifted, and he felt like jumping into the air too.

  "It's the Sky Engineer Battalion! Did you see that!? Those trout and those other fish just got flung right up into the air? I've never been on such an excellent trip. This is great!"

  "If you got up close to those trout they'd be this big! There's tons of fish in that water."

  "I wonder if there are any small fish in there," said the girl, swept up into the conversation.

  "There probably is," said Giovanni smiling enthusiastically, feeling his normal self again. "If there are big ones then there must be little ones too. But it's too far away to see the little ones from here."

  "It's the twin star palaces!" cried the little boy, pointing out the window.

  On a small hill to the right sat two small palaces that looked as if they were made of crystal.

  "What are the twin star palaces?" asked Giovanni.

  "Mama used to tell the story about them all the time," said Kaoru. "I can see two small crystal palaces right next to each other, so it probably is them."

  "Tell us the story. What happened to the twin stars?"

  "I know the story," said the little boy. "The twin stars went out in the field to play and they got into a fight with a crow, didn't they?"

  "That's not it," said Kaoru. "Let me see... in the story that Mama told, on the shore of the Celestial River... "

  "And the broom star went swoosh-swoosh, swoosh-swoosh."

  "That's not it Tadashi, you've got it all wrong. That's a different story.

  If that is the twins, then they must be playing their flutes now."

  "No they're in the ocean."

  "No they're not. They got out of the ocean, remember."

  "Oh yeah, that's right. I know it. I'll tell the story."

  The opposite shore was suddenly lit up all red. All of the willow trees, everything, now shone bright red against a pitch black sky; red needle-like flashes rising up from the waves of the invisible Celestial River. An enormous crimson-colored fire was burning in the field on the opposite side of the river, its black smoke rising up into the cold purplish-blue sky, as if it to scorch it. The flame of the fire was redder and more transparent than a ruby; more beautiful and mesmerizing than a flame of lithium.

  "What's that fire?" exclaimed Giovanni. "What could you burn to get such a red flame?"

  "That must be the Fire of the Scorpion," said Campanella, checking his map.

  "Oh, I know the story about the Fire of the Scorpion," said Kaoru.

  "What's the Fire of the Scorpion?" asked Giovanni.

  "The scorpion was burnt up in a fire. But that fire is still burning. Papa told me the story lots of times."

  "A scorpion is just some kind of bug, right?"

  "Yes, but the scorpion is good."

  "Scorpion's aren't good. I saw one in the museum that was preserved in alcohol. It had a hook on its tail like this, and our teacher said that if you got stung by one you'd die."

  "That's true, but the scorpion is good. Papa told us the story. Long, long ago, there was a scorpion that lived in the fields of Badrah, who killed and ate all kinds of small bugs and insects. Then one day a weasel found it and tried to eat it. The scorpion tried to escape and ran and ran and ran, but it couldn't get away from the weasel, and just as the weasel was going to catch it, it fell down into a well. And as hard as it tried, it couldn't get back out again, and it started to drown. So the scorpion began to pray.

  Ah, how many lives have I taken up until now? And yet, when the weasel tries to catch me, look how I run for my life. And in the end this is how I end up. Oh, what have I done? Why didn't I just offer my body to the weasel without running away? I could have given the weasel another day of life.

  Dear God, please look into my heart. Instead of allowing me to throw my life away in vain, use my body to bring true happiness to the world.

  And when the scorpion opened its eyes again, it saw that its body was burning with a bright red flame, lighting up the entire night sky. And papa said that the fire is still burning even now. That's what that fire is."

  "Yeah. Look at that. The signal towers make the shape of a scorpion."

  The three signal towers on the far side of the massive fire were in the shape of a scorpion's arms and the five on the near side were in the shape of a scorpion's tail and hook. And the beautiful crimson flame of the scorpion burned with incredible brightness, in total silence.

  As the flame gradually receded into the distance, the passengers began to hear all kinds of merry music making, to smell the fragrance of flowers, and to hear the sounds of people whistling and talking excitedly. It sounded as if there was a village close by, in the midst of some kind of festival.

  Suddenly the young boy next to Giovanni who had been asleep, looked out the opposite window and yelled, "Centaur! Send down your dew!"

  Outside the window, beautiful green spruce and fir trees were decorated like Christmas trees with hundreds of small light bulbs, that looked like a thousand fireflies resting on their branches.

  "Ah, that's right, tonight is the Centaur Festival," said Giovanni.

  "Ah, this is the Centaur village here," added Campanella, checking with his map.

  ***********

  "We are nearly at the Southern Cross. We get off here, so make yourselves ready," said the young man to the children.

  "I want to stay on a bit longer," said the little boy.

  Kaoru had a look of nervous excitement as she got to her feet and began making her preparations, but seemed reluctant to be leaving Giovanni and Campanella.

  "We all have to get off here," said the young man, his voice unwavering as he looked down at the boy, his lips pursed tight.

  "No. I want to go on a bit more."

  "You can stay with us," said Giovanni, unable to resist any longer. "We've got a ticket that lets us go forever."

  "But we have to get off here," said the girl sadly. "This is where we get off to go to Heaven."

  "But yo
u don't have to go to Heaven! My teacher told us that we have to create a place here that is better than Heaven."

  "But Mama is already there, and it's what God says."

  "That God is not a real God."

  "Your God is not a real God!"

  "That's not true."

  "What kind of God is your God?" asked the young man with a smile.

  "I don't really know; all I know is that there's only one real God."

  "Yes, of course there is only one real God."

  "No, what I mean is that there is only one true, real God.

  'Yes, that's exactly right. I pray, that in future, we shall meet you both once more before that one true, real God," said the young man, placing his hands respectfully together. Kaoru did the same. The sorrow of parting showed in their faces that had now turned pale. Giovanni looked ready to burst out crying.

  "Ok then, are you ready? We'll be arriving at Southern Cross any moment now."

  And then it appeared. Way up ahead they could now see a cross, inlaid with blues, oranges and every color of light, standing like a shimmering tree all alone in the middle of the river; a pale-blue cloud circling above it like a halo.

  Inside the train there was a great commotion. Everyone stood up straight and began to pray, just as they had at the Northern Cross. The carriage was filled with cries of joy - like children grabbing at pieces of watermelon - and deep moans of respect. The train gradually approached the cross, and now they could see that the circular pale-blue cloud, the same color as the flesh of those apples, was rotating, ever so gently.

  "Hallelujah, Hallelujah."

  The joyful cries of the passengers reverberated throughout the train, and from far off in the sky; from far, far off in the cold distant sky, they heard the perfectly crisp, crystal clear sound of a trumpet. The train gradually slowed as it passed through a long series of signals and lights, finally coming to a stop directly in front of the cross.

  "Right, here we go," said the young man, taking the hand of the little boy and walking towards the exit.

  "Goodbye then," said the girl, turning to look at Giovanni and Campanella.

  "Goodbye," shot back Giovanni almost angrily, fighting to hold back tears. The girl turned to look one last time, a painful expression in her wide-open eyes, before quietly walking away. A gust of wind rushed inside the carriage that now felt so empty after more than half the passengers had gotten off.

 

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