猫の事務所　……ある小さな官衙に関する幻想…… English

Near the station of a light railway, there was the Sixth Cat Office.

It was a place devoted chiefly to the study of cat history and geography.

All the clerks wore short black satin jackets and were held in great esteem by everyone, so whenever someone resigned from a clerical post for one reason or another, the young cats of the neighborhood would all scramble about in a frenzy, each desperate to take the vacant place.

Yet the number of clerks in this office was always fixed at exactly four, so out of the many applicants, only the single best writer with the finest command of poetry would be chosen.

The office director was a large black cat who was somewhat senile, though his eyes were truly magnificent things, as if copper wires had been strung in layer upon layer inside them.

Now, his subordinates were as follows:

The first clerk was a white cat,

the second clerk was a tabby cat,

the third clerk was a calico cat,

and the fourth clerk was a kama-cat.

A kama-cat is not a matter of birth.

Any breed of cat will do, but because of the habit of sleeping inside the kitchen stove at night, the cat's body is always sooty and grimy, and in particular the nose and ears are blackened with soot, making the cat look rather like a tanuki — that is what is meant by the word kama-cat.

For this reason, kama-cats are disliked by other cats.

But in this office, since the director himself happened to be a black cat, this kama-cat — who under ordinary circumstances would never have been made a clerk no matter how hard he studied — had been selected from among forty candidates.

In the middle of the large office, the black cat director sat solidly behind a desk draped with bright red woolen cloth; to his right sat the first clerk, the white cat, and the third clerk, the calico cat; to his left sat the second clerk, the tabby cat, and the fourth clerk, the kama-cat — each before a small desk, seated neatly in a chair.

Now, one might ask what use geography and history could be to cats —

well, it went something like this.

There would come a knock-knock at the office door.

"Come in."

The black cat director, hands thrust in his pockets and leaning back, bellowed out.

The four clerks bent their heads down and appeared to be busily checking their ledgers.

A luxury cat entered.

"What is your business?"

The director said.

"I wish to travel to the Bering region to eat glacier mice — where would be the best place to go?"

"Very well. First Clerk, name the habitat of the glacier mouse."

The first clerk opened a large ledger with a blue cover and answered.

"Ustelagomena, Novaskaya, and the basin of the Fusa River."

The director said to the luxury cat:

"Ustelagomena, Nova... what was it again?"

"Novaskaya."

The first clerk and the luxury cat said it simultaneously.

"Right, Novaskaya — and then what?"

"The Fusa River."

Again the luxury cat and the first clerk said it together, and the director looked a little embarrassed.

"Yes, yes, the Fusa River. That region should do nicely."

"And what precautions should I take for the journey?"

"Mm — Second Clerk, state the precautions for travel in the Bering region."

"Yes, sir."

The second clerk flipped through his own ledger.

"Summer cats are wholly unsuited to travel."

For some reason, everyone glanced sideways at the kama-cat at this point.

"Winter cats also require the most careful attention. In the vicinity of Hakodate, there is danger of being lured by horsemeat. Black cats in particular, unless they travel in a manner that makes it abundantly clear they are cats, will frequently be mistaken for black foxes and pursued in earnest."

"Good. Those are the warnings. You are not a black cat like me, so you need not worry much. Your main concern is to be wary of horsemeat in Hakodate."

"I see. And what manner of influential figures are there over in that region?"

"Third Clerk, name the influential figures of the Bering region."

"Yes, let me see — for the Bering region, yes — Tobasky and Genzoskey, two names."

"And what sort of fellows are Tobasky and Genzoskey?"

"Fourth Clerk, give a general account of Tobasky and Genzoskey."

"Yes, sir."

The fourth clerk, the kama-cat, had already slipped one short paw each into the pages of the great register at Tobasky and Genzoskey, and was waiting.

At this, both the director and the luxury cat seemed greatly impressed.

The other three clerks, however, glanced sideways at him with an air of utter contempt and snickered.

The kama-cat read from his ledger with all his might.

"Chieftain Tobasky: esteemed by all, eyes gleaming with brilliance, speech somewhat slow. Genzoskey: a man of wealth, speech somewhat slow, yet eyes gleaming with brilliance."

"Ah, that is all I need. Thank you."

The luxury cat departed.

In this manner, the office proved quite useful to cats.

But just about half a year after the events just described, the Sixth Office was at last abolished.

The reason — as you may already have guessed — was that the fourth clerk, the kama-cat, was deeply hated by the three clerks above him, and in particular the third clerk, the calico cat, had grown desperate to do the kama-cat's work himself.

The kama-cat tried every manner of scheme to make the others think well of him, but somehow things only seemed to go from bad to worse.

For example: one day, when the neighboring tabby cat took out his lunch box to eat at his desk, he was suddenly seized by a yawn.

The tabby cat stretched both short arms as high as they would go and let out a very large yawn.

Among cats, this is no discourtesy even to a superior — it would be no more than the equivalent of a human twirling his mustache — so there was nothing wrong with the yawn itself; the trouble was that in bracing his legs, the tabby cat tilted the desk slightly, and the lunch box slid steadily down until it landed with a clatter on the floor in front of the director.

It was dented here and there, but since it was made of aluminum, it was not broken.

The tabby cat hurried to cut short his yawn and reached across the desk to retrieve it, but his paw just barely managed to graze it, and the lunch box skittered this way and that and could not be caught.

"My friend, it's no use. You can't reach."

The director, the black cat, laughed and said this while munching what might have been bread.

At that moment the fourth clerk, the kama-cat, had just opened the lid of his own lunch box, but seeing this, he swiftly stood up, picked up the lunch box, and moved to hand it to the tabby cat.

But the tabby cat suddenly flew into a rage, refused to take the lunch box that the kama-cat so obligingly held out, put his hands behind his back, swayed his body defiantly, and shouted:

"What is the meaning of this? Are you telling me to eat this lunch? Are you telling me to eat a lunch that has fallen from a desk to the floor?"

"No, I merely picked it up because I saw you trying to pick it up yourself."

"When did I ever try to pick it up? I only thought that, since it had fallen there in front of the director, it was terribly rude, and I wanted to push it under my own desk."

"I see. I thought, since the lunch box was moving so this way and that..."

"What insolence! A duel..."

"Jara jara jara jaran!"

The director called out in a loud voice.

This was a deliberate interruption to prevent the word "duel" from being completed.

"Now, now, let's have no quarreling. Kama-cat, you weren't trying to make the tabby cat eat it, surely. And — I forgot to say so this morning — Tabby-cat, your salary has gone up ten sen."

The tabby cat had been listening with a stern expression and bowed head, but in the end he broke into a smile.

"I am terribly sorry to have caused such an uproar."

Then he shot a glance at the kama-cat beside him and sat back down.

Readers, I feel sorry for the kama-cat.

Then, another five or six days later, something very similar occurred.

The reason such things kept happening was partly the lazy nature of cats, and partly the fact that a cat's forelegs — that is to say, its arms — are so very short.

This time it was the third clerk on the far side, the calico cat, who, before beginning work in the morning, let his writing brush roll about until it finally fell to the floor.

The calico cat, rather than simply standing up as he should, was too lazy and immediately did as the tabby cat had done before, stretching both arms over the desk to try to pick it up.

Again, he could not reach.

The calico cat was particularly short in stature, so he leaned farther and farther forward until his feet finally lifted off the chair.

The kama-cat hesitated, unsure whether to pick it up for him or not, given what had happened before, and sat blinking his eyes for a while, but at last could not bear to watch any longer and stood up.

But just at this moment, the calico cat had leaned too far and toppled over with a bang, knocking his head hard and falling from the desk.

It was quite a loud crash, so even the director, the black cat, jumped up in surprise and reached behind him to the shelf for the bottle of ammonia water kept there as a restorative.

But the calico cat immediately scrambled to his feet and, in a fit of irritation, burst out at once:

"Kama-cat, how dare you knock me down like that!"

He shouted.

This time, however, the director quickly calmed the calico cat down.

"Now, Calico-cat. That is your mistake.

Kama-cat only stood up out of goodwill — he did not touch you in the slightest.

Besides, surely a small thing like this is nothing at all.

Now then, let me see — the change-of-address notification from Santontan...

Yes."

The director briskly set to work.

The calico cat had no choice but to begin working too, yet all the while he kept glancing over at the kama-cat with a menacing look.

Living like this, the kama-cat was truly wretched.

The kama-cat tried lying outside the window any number of times in an attempt to be like an ordinary cat, but no matter what, he would wake in the middle of the night shivering and unable to stop sneezing, and so he could do nothing but crawl back inside the stove.

The reason he grew so cold was that his skin was thin, and the reason his skin was thin was that he had been born in the height of summer.

"I suppose it is my own fault — there is nothing to be done," the kama-cat thought, and filled his round, wide eyes to the brim with tears.

"But the director has been so kind to me; and all my fellow kama-cats think it such an honor that I am in this office and rejoice on my behalf — no matter how hard it is, I will not quit; I will endure it," the kama-cat thought, and clenched his fists, weeping.

But then even the director ceased to be relied upon.

For cats, clever as they appear to be, are really quite foolish creatures.

One day the kama-cat had the bad luck to catch a cold; the joint of his leg swelled up like a bowl, and he could not walk at all, so he ended up missing a full day of work.

The kama-cat's anguish was beyond words.

He wept and wept and wept.

He spent the entire day rubbing his eyes and weeping as he gazed at the yellow light streaming in through the small window of the shed.

Meanwhile, at the office, things went like this.

"Hmm, the kama-cat hasn't come yet today. He's late."

The director said this during a lull in the work.

"Oh, he's probably gone off to play at the beach."

The white cat said.

"No, I'd say he's been invited to some banquet somewhere."

The tabby cat said.

"Is there a banquet somewhere today?"

The director asked in alarm.

He could not imagine there was any cat banquet to which he himself had not been invited.

"I heard there's some kind of school opening ceremony up north."

"Is that so?"

The black cat fell silent and brooded.

"The truth is, that kama-cat..."

The calico cat began.

"...has been getting invitations here and there lately. Apparently he's been saying he's going to become the next director. So the fools are all scared of him and falling over each other to flatter him."

"Really? Is that true?"

The black cat bellowed.

"It is absolutely true. Please look into it yourself."

The calico cat said, pursing his lips.

"Outrageous. I have been going out of my way to look after that fellow. Very well — I have my own ideas about this."

And the office fell quiet for a while.

The next day came.

The kama-cat's swelling had at last gone down, and he came to the office early in the morning, delighted, pushing through a howling wind.

But when he arrived, his precious master ledger — which he always stroked the cover of the moment he came in — was gone from his own desk and had been divided up among the three desks across from him.

"Ah, things must have been busy yesterday,"

the kama-cat said to himself in a hoarse voice, his heart pounding for reasons he could not quite name.

Clatter.

The door swung open and the calico cat entered.

"Good morning."

The kama-cat stood and greeted him, but the calico cat sat down in silence and after that was busy turning the pages of his ledger, as if absorbed in urgent work.

Clatter.

Slam.

The tabby cat entered.

"Good morning."

The kama-cat stood and greeted him, but the tabby cat did not even glance his way.

"Good morning."

The calico cat said.

"Morning — quite a dreadful wind, isn't it."

The tabby cat immediately began flipping through his ledger.

Clatter, slam.

The white cat entered.

"Good morning."

The tabby cat and the calico cat greeted him together.

"Good morning — terrible wind."

The white cat also set busily to work.

At that moment the kama-cat stood feebly and bowed in silence, but the white cat behaved as though he did not exist.

Clatter, slam.

"Whew, what a dreadful wind."

The director, the black cat, entered.

"Good morning."

The three swiftly stood and bowed.

The kama-cat also stood vacantly and bowed with his head still down.

"Quite a gale, isn't it."

The black cat said this without looking at the kama-cat and immediately began his work.

"Now then — today we must look into and respond about the brothers of Ammoniac, continuing from yesterday. Second Clerk, which of the Ammoniac brothers went to the South Pole?"

Work had begun.

The kama-cat sat silent, head bowed.

His ledger was gone.

He wanted to say something about it, but his voice would not come out.

"Pan Polaris."

The tabby cat answered.

"Very well. Describe Pan Polaris in detail."

Said the black cat.

Oh, this is my work — my ledger, my ledger, the kama-cat thought, almost as if he were about to cry.

"Pan Polaris — died on the return voyage from a South Pole expedition, off the coast of Yap Island; remains committed to a sea burial."

The first clerk, the white cat, was reading from the kama-cat's own ledger.

The kama-cat was so sad, so unbearably sad, that the area around his cheeks turned sour and there came a high ringing in his ears, and he endured it all silently with his head bowed down.

The office grew busier and busier, like boiling water, and the work pressed steadily forward.

Everyone only glanced over at him for the briefest moment now and then, and not a single word was spoken to him.

And then lunchtime came.

The kama-cat did not eat the lunch box he had brought, but sat still with his hands folded on his knees, head bowed.

At last, from one o'clock in the afternoon, the kama-cat began to weep softly.

And he wept and stopped and wept again for about three hours until evening.

Yet all the while, everyone else carried on cheerfully with their work as though none of it concerned them in the least.

It was at that moment.

The cats had not noticed, but outside the window behind the director, a formidable golden lion's head appeared.

The lion looked in with a puzzled expression for a while, then suddenly knocked on the doorway and entered.

The cats were seized with a terror beyond all description.

They could only mill about aimlessly here and there.

Only the kama-cat stopped weeping and stood up straight.

The lion spoke in a large, firm voice.

"What are you all doing? Carrying on like this, there is no use for geography or history whatsoever. Shut it all down. Hmph. I hereby order this office dissolved."

And so the office was abolished.

I myself half agree with the lion.