9 Giovanni's Ticket (2/3) (2)

by Kenji Miyazawa

"Is he still playing the flute over there?"

"He's at the sea now."

"No, he's already come back from the sea."

"Oh yes, I know. Let's talk about it."

The opposite bank of the river suddenly turned red. Willow trees and other things floated up in black, and the waves of the invisible Milky Way occasionally glowed red like needles. A large, bright red fire blazed in the field on the opposite bank, its black smoke rising high, seemingly scorching the cold, bellflower-blue sky. The fire burned more transparently red than a ruby, and more beautifully and intoxicatingly than lithium.

"What kind of fire is that? What could be burning to make a fire glow so red?" Giovanni said.

"It's the scorpion's fire," Campanella replied, looking at the map.

"Oh, I know about the scorpion's fire too."

"What's the scorpion's fire?" Giovanni asked.

"A scorpion burned to death. My father told me many times that the fire is still burning."

"A scorpion is an insect, right?"

"Yes, a scorpion is an insect. But it's a good insect."

"Scorpions aren't good insects. I saw one in alcohol at the museum. The teacher said it has a stinger like this on its tail, and if it stings you, you die."

"That's right. But it's a good insect. My father said this: A long time ago, there was a scorpion in the field of Baldora, and it lived by killing and eating small insects. One day, it was found by a weasel and was about to be eaten. The scorpion tried its best to escape, but eventually, the weasel was about to catch it. At that moment, there was a well in front of it, and it fell into it. It couldn't get out no matter what, and the scorpion began to drown. At that time, the scorpion is said to have prayed like this:

“Ah, I don’t know how many lives I’ve taken until now. And when I was caught by the weasel this time, I ran away so desperately. Yet, in the end, it came to this. Ah, nothing is reliable. Why didn’t I just silently give my body to the weasel? Then the weasel would have survived another day. Please, God, look into my heart. Instead of throwing away my life so vainly, please, next time, use my body for everyone’s happiness.” That’s what it said, apparently.

Then, one day, the scorpion saw its body turn into a beautiful red fire, burning and illuminating the darkness of the night. My father said it’s still burning now. That fire, it really is that.”

“That’s right. Look. The triangular sign over there is exactly the shape of a scorpion.”

Giovanni saw three triangular signs beyond that great fire, arranged just like the scorpion’s arms. And on this side, five triangular signs were arranged like the scorpion’s tail and stinger. Indeed, that beautiful, bright red scorpion fire burned silently and brightly.

As the fire gradually moved further back, everyone heard an indescribably lively sound of various instruments, a scent like flowers and grasses, whistles, and the murmur of people. It felt as if there was a town very close by, and a festival was being held there.

“The Centaur Festival is starting!” Suddenly, the boy next to Giovanni, who had been sleeping until now, shouted, looking out the window.

Ah, there stood spruces and firs, as blue as Christmas trees, adorned with countless tiny lights, like a gathering of a thousand fireflies.

“Ah, that’s right, tonight is the Centaur Festival.”

“Ah, this is Centaur Village,” Campanella immediately said.

“If it’s ball-throwing, I never miss,” the boy said confidently.

"We'll be at Southern Cross soon. Get ready to disembark," the young man told everyone.

"I want to ride the train a little longer," the boy said.

The girl next to Campanella restlessly stood up and began to prepare, but it seemed she still didn't want to part with Giovanni and the others.

"We must get off here," the young man said, pressing his lips together firmly and looking down at the boy.

"No. I'm going to ride the train a little longer before I go."

Giovanni couldn't bear it and said, "Let's ride together. We have tickets that can take us anywhere."

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

"We don't have to go to heaven! My teacher said we have to create a place better than heaven right here!"

"But my mother went there, and God says so," she said.

"That kind of God is a false God."

"Your God is a false God."

"That's not true."

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

"I don't really know well. But it's not that kind; it's the one true God."

"Of course, there is only one true God."

"Ah, not that kind; it's the one true, true God."

"Isn't that what I just said? I pray that you will all meet us before that true God someday," the young man said, quietly clasping his hands together.

The girl did the same. Everyone truly seemed reluctant to part, and their faces looked a little pale. Giovanni was on the verge of crying out loud.

“Now, are you ready? We’ll be at the Southern Cross right away.”

Ah, that was the moment. Far downstream from the invisible Milky Way, a cross, studded with blue, orange, and various other lights, rose from the river like a single tree, shining brightly. Above it, pale blue clouds hung like a round halo, appearing like a divine aura. The train was filled with a bustling atmosphere, and everyone stood up straight, just as they had for the Northern Cross, and began to pray. From here and there, sounds of joy, like children pouncing on a melon, and deep, inexpressible, humble sighs could be heard. And gradually, the cross approached directly in front of the window, and the pale blue ring of clouds, like the flesh of an apple, could be seen slowly swirling.

“Hallelujah, Hallelujah,” a bright and joyful voice resounded, and everyone heard a clear, inexpressibly refreshing trumpet sound from far away in the sky, from beyond the cold sky. Then, amidst many signals and electric lights, the train gradually slowed down, and finally came to a complete stop directly opposite the cross.

“Come, let’s get off,” the young man said, pulling the boy’s hand, and the sisters, adjusting each other’s collars and shoulders, gradually began to walk towards the exit on the other side.

“Well then, goodbye,” the girl said, turning back to the two of them.

"Goodbye," Giovanni replied gruffly, as if holding back tears.

The girl opened her eyes wide with a pained expression, looked back at them one more time, and then left without saying anything. More than half of the train was already empty, suddenly feeling desolate and lonely, and the wind began to blow in.

And as they watched, everyone formed a modest line and knelt on the bank of the Milky Way in front of that cross. The two saw a glorious white being reach out and come towards them, crossing the invisible waters of the Milky Way. But by then, the glass whistle had already sounded, and the train began to move. Before they knew it, a silvery mist drifted up from downstream, and they could no longer see anything there. Only many walnut trees stood in the mist, their leaves shining, and electric squirrels with golden light peeked out with their cute faces.

At that moment, the mist began to clear a little. There was a street with small electric lights lined up in a row, like a highway going somewhere. It followed the tracks for a while. And as the two passed in front of those lights, the small bean-colored flames would suddenly go out as if in greeting, and then light up again after they passed.

Looking back, the cross from earlier had become completely small, as if it could truly be hung on one's chest. It was vague and indistinguishable whether the girls and young men from earlier were still kneeling on the white bank in front of it, or if they had gone to some unknown heaven.

Giovanni sighed deeply, "Ah."

"Campanella, it's just the two of us again. Let's go together, no matter how far. I'm like that scorpion now; if it's truly for everyone's happiness, I wouldn't mind my body being burned a hundred times."

"Yes, me too," Campanella said, with beautiful tears welling up in his eyes.

"But what exactly is true happiness?" Giovanni asked.

"I don't know," Campanella answered vaguely.

"Let's do our best," Giovanni said, exhaling as if new strength was welling up in his chest.

"Oh, there's the coal sack. That's the hole in the sky," Campanella said, pointing to a part of the Milky Way, slightly averting his gaze.

Giovanni looked over there and was startled, as if he had been jolted. A large, pitch-black hole had opened up with a thud in a part of the Milky Way. No matter how much he rubbed his eyes and peered into it, he couldn't see how deep its bottom was or what lay beyond it; all he felt was a throbbing pain in his eyes. Giovanni said,

"I'm not afraid of such a big darkness anymore. I'm sure I'll go find everyone's true happiness. Let's keep going together, no matter how far."

"Oh, we'll definitely go. Oh, how beautiful that field over there is. Everyone is gathered there. That's the true heaven. Oh, that's my mother over there!" Campanella suddenly cried out, pointing to a beautiful field visible in the distance outside the window.

Giovanni looked that way too, but it was only vaguely white and hazy, and he couldn't see it as Campanella described.

Feeling an inexpressible loneliness, he vaguely gazed in that direction, and on the opposite bank of the river, two telegraph poles stood, their red crossarms lined up as if they were arm in arm.

"Campanella, let's go together, okay?" Giovanni said, and when he turned to look, Campanella was no longer in the seat where he had been sitting, only the seat itself, shining like black velvet.