“…won’t we. But it’ll be too late then. And what a terrible loss that will be. For he is now a precious artefact from the Tobacco Age. He should be turned into a natural monument, a living treasure. We must protect him. Will you help us? I repeat. We are SPS, the Society for the Protection of Smokers, created today for the urgent…”
A shudder went through me. Please, no! Don’t let them protect me! This was the beginning of a new sort of cruelty. Protected species are doomed to extinction. They’re turned into peepshow freaks, photographed, injected and isolated, their semen is extracted, and other parts of their bodies are messed about with in different ways. And what happens in the end? They just wither and die. But that’s not all. After they die, they’re stuffed and put out on show. Was that what I wanted? No. I’d rather die in my own way. I rushed forwards and jumped off the roof.
But it was too late. They’d already put out a safety net.
High above me, two helicopters approached with a rope mesh stretched out between them. Slowly, slowly, they descended towards me…
Bad for the Heart
My foreboding turned out to be correct.
Just as I thought, it was to inform me of my forthcoming “island duty” that the Department Manager called me all the way to the Reception Room.
Usually, “island duty” was reserved for unmarried researchers. But I have a wife and a three-year-old child.
Why did the Department Manager have to tell me in person? Because the Section Chief didn’t know how to. It was a sign of the Section Chief’s malice towards me. It was he who’d plotted this “island duty”. I was sure of it.
I was to be posted to Pomegranate Island, a small island in the middle of the Japan Sea. It was about twenty miles off the coast of remotest Shimane Prefecture.
“Are there any telephones on the island?” I asked the Department Manager as I glanced over the map.
“The wife of the village headman is the switchboard operator. I’ll have one installed in your office,” he replied with a smile.
“You mean they’ve laid cables to the island?”
“God, no! Radio telephones, of course.”
“Surely we don’t have to go so far out to test water quality in the Japan Sea? We could do it on the coast. What about this place, Cape Ichizen? Couldn’t we do it there?”
“Citroxin levels are unreliable on the coast. You get better readings out at sea. You should know that.”
“There are still five or six single men in the Development Section. You don’t have to send me.”
“Ah, but they can’t work alone yet. You should know that.”
I refused to back down. “I’ve got a chronic illness.”
“Yes, I know. Your heart problem.”
“The Section Chief told you, then.”
The Department Manager gave me a duplicitous look.
“No. It was Dr Masui.” He was the company doctor.
“I don’t think he knows anything about my illness. What did he say?”
“He said it’s a nervous disorder.”
“Not heart disease?”
“He said you yourself claimed it was heart disease,” the Department Manager replied with a grin.
“In other words, he thinks I’m imagining it.” I sighed. “That’s why these quacks are no good.”
“What does your own doctor say, then?”
I started to explain my illness to the Department Manager. As I’m always telling people about it, the words slip out effortlessly. And by nature, I tend to get quite worked up when I’m talking about it. “It certainly is a nervous disorder. But this cardio-angio-neurosis, as it’s called, is not like other nervous disorders, nor is it an ordinary heart disease. It’s a very complicated illness. Dr Masui knows nothing of neurological medicine. That’s why he makes such irresponsible statements. My physician is Dr Kawashita. He knows all about both psychoneurology and internal medicine. I’m lucky to have met such a wonderful doctor. If I hadn’t, I might have died of heart failure long since. No – I definitely would have done. Indeed, before I had the good fortune to meet Dr Kawashita, I went to a lot of different hospitals and argued with a lot of doctors, because all they ever said was that it was a nervous disorder. I mean, I actually have palpitations and get a gripping pain in my heart. Sometimes I can’t even breathe. How could that be just a nervous disorder?! Dr Kawashita was the only one who correctly diagnosed it as cardio-angio-neurosis.”
The Department Manager had listened to my tale with a bored look, but now lifted his hand to stop me in mid-flow. “All right, all right. Let’s call it cardio-angio-neurosis. So what causes it, then?”
“In my case, it’s apparently too much stress.”
“Well, that’s perfect!” He smacked the desktop with his hand, a look of hearty agreement on his face. “If you go to a remote island, there’ll be no more stress or irritation from human relationships. You can take your time with the work – all you have to do is go and test the sea water a few times a day. You could see it as a kind of convalescence! Eh? What do you think? Hahahahaha!”
I was lost for words.
Well yes, I suppose I could see it that way. But what about the other cause of my illness – marital discord? My wife is of a purely hysterical nature. On top of that, she has showy tastes, and loves parties and socializing. She could never endure life on a remote island inhabited by a dozen or so fishermen. If she were forced to stay there, she would only become even more hysterical and torment me day and night.
But of course, it would have been unmanly for me to plead family circumstances to my superior, the Department Manager.
“Er…” I started nervously. “How long for?”
“Eight months.”
“Couldn’t it be a bit shorter?”
“It usually takes a year to monitor changes in citroxin levels. You should know that. I reduced it specially for you. Since you’ll have to be away from your wife and child.”
“Away?” I asked with widening eyes. “Can’t they go with me?”
Now he widened his eyes. “Would you want them to?”
“Oh, come on. If I went alone, who would help me if I had an attack?”
“Well, all right, I suppose they can.” He smiled again. “I hear your wife’s quite a good-looking woman.”
His implication was that I was worried about leaving her alone. And to an extent, he was dead right.
“Next year, the Development Section will split off from the Research Department and become an independent department of its own,” said the Department Manager, suddenly looking serious. “The current Section Chief will become the Manager of the Development Department. And there’ll be two new Sections beneath him.”
“I see.” I swallowed.
“I can make you a promise,” said the Department Manager, nodding solemnly. “When you come back from the island, you will be one of the Section Chiefs.”
“Hey. I’ve got island duty again,” I reported to my wife on arriving home that day. “I didn’t think it’d happen now that I’m married. But it seems it’s my turn again.”
For a few moments, my wife just stared at me blankly.
“Why didn’t you refuse?” she asked at length.
“Well, I couldn’t, could I. The Department Manager promised to promote me to Section Chief in return.”
“You’ll get promoted anyway, won’t you? All the others who joined at the same time as you have been promoted long since. Some of them without doing island duty once!”
“That’s because they’re not in the technical line.”
“But you’re the only one! You’re the only one who did island duty four times before you were married. So why do you have to do it again, now that you’ve got a family? Why on earth did you accept? Just how much of a pushover do you have to be?!” Her voice gradually rose in pitch as her words gathered speed. “That company of yours stinks. Can’t you see? They’re just using you! All the other wives will be laughing at me again. I can’t show my face outside!”