In parts 1 and 2, the narrator and his son enter a narrow lane, which soon becomes a dead end. But in the lane there is a strange shop with “Curiosity Shop” written on the window outside. The blind narrator and his five year old son go inside. The shop clerk, a Japanese lady, shows them some curious items such as “Bruce Lee shoes” and headphones which play “The Devil’s Playlist.” The Bruce Lee shoes seem to turn the young boy into a kung fu expert, and on the Devil’s Playlist, rock’n roll stars who have died are singing songs they recorded after their death.
*
I took the headphones off in shock. That’s not a real John Lennon song!” I said. “The correct title should be Strawberry Fields Forever!”
The clerk said, “Oh, yes. Lennon has a wicked sense of humour, doesn’t he? He recorded Sulphurous Fields Forever as a kind of joke, after he died. All of the songs on the Devil’s Playlist are versions recorded from beyond the grave.”
*
“The Curious Curiosity Shop,” part 3:
I shivered as I felt a chill pass through me.
“So you sell music from beyond the grave?” I said, trying to make my voice sound cheerful. “That is a very curious selection of music.”
“Thank you very much,” said the clerk. A little movement of air suggested that she had bowed. “We pride ourselves on providing our customers with only rare and delicate curiosities, and all for a reasonable price.”
My heart rate quickened. “Uh, a reasonable price?”
“We always match the price to the customer’s ability to pay. The delights of culture should be for the masses, not just the privileged few with the means to pay. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Who are the masses, Daddy?” asked my son.
“People,” I said. “It means lots of people.”
There was a strange taste in the back of my throat. Some of the smells of the shop seemed to be seeping into me. I thought I could taste natto. I cleared my throat. “So how much would it cost for, say, an album of John Lennon’s, recorded after his death?”
“One hour,” answered the clerk. “Or two hours if you buy three albums.”
My son tugged my sleeve. “Are you going to buy the Bruce Lee shoes, Daddy? I could kick any bad people if I had my Bruce Lee shoes.”
“Um, no,” I said. “We won’t be buying shoes.” I turned towards the clerk. “Sorry, you said the price was one hour. What do you mean? One hour of what?”
“It’s a fair exchange,” said the clerk. “One rare and delicate commodity for a rare and delicate finished product. You may find posthumous releases by artists on Amazon Music or Spotify, but you will not find posthumous recordings. So we ask for one hour of your allotted lifespan in exchange. You could listen to one album 100 times, enjoying it for many hours. And you would only need to pay one hour of life in return.”
My son tugged again at my sleeve. “Ask about the Bruce Lee shoes, Daddy.”
My breathing was unnaturally quick. I needed a little time to think. I wondered if I could get the clerk to move away from us for a little while.
I bent towards my son’s ear. “Did you see anything else interesting in the shop?” I asked.
“Um, um, um… I like the coffee maker” he said.
“But you don’t drink coffee,” I said.
“I think your son means the curious drinks dispenser. Imagine waking up every morning to a steaming mug of mammoth and crouton soup. Or refreshing yourself during a hard day’s work with dodo consomme. Perhaps, Sir, your son would enjoy the tyrannosaur pottage?”
The clerk had found exactly what my son desired. He started jumping up and down. “I want it, Daddy, I want it!”
“And all for only a six months down payment, with a one week rental fee every year,” said the clerk. “Perhaps you would like to try a free sample, Sir? I am not a gourmet, but I believe the tyrannosaur pottage is admired for its robust flavour, with just a hint of chicken.”
“Uh, yes. A free sample. Yes,” I said.
As the clerk shuffled down the aisle to prepare the soup, I called, “We’ll just take a look around the rest of the shop!”
Switching to English, I said to my son, “Let’s go and see what curious items there are near the door. I think I noticed something very interesting just inside the door.”
There was a whistling, steaming noise coming from the curious drinks dispenser, and the air smelled of dinosaur, which is to say a little like chicken. I felt the welcome mat just before the door.
“Can I try the tyrannosaurus soup, Daddy?” asked my son.
“Yes, well, maybe,” I said. “But only if you read the letters of the sign outside the shop to practice your English.”
The bell above the door tinkled as I pulled open the entrance to the outside. I felt the ground start to shake under my feet as my son pulled me out the door.
“Is it an earthquake, Daddy?” he asked. The earth was really shaking beneath our feet. I wondered how badly the ground would shake if a tyrannosaur were to start running towards us.
“Never mind the letters,” I said. “Can you find the way out of this dead end and back into Tokyo?”
“Yes, Daddy,” said my son and he led me at a jog away from the shop. We soon reached the narrow entrance to the back lane on which the curious curiosity shop was open for business. As I stumbled through the gap, I felt that the walls on either side were shaking violently. My son and I squeezed through to the other side. We heard the toot of a car horn, and lots of other noises produced by a modern city containing millions of people. The shaking stopped, the little earthquake subsided.
“Daddy, look!” said my son. He grasped my hand and pushed it against the wall behind us. The wall was smooth. The gap which had led to the dead end and the curiosity shop was gone.
“Who wants ramen noodles?” I asked.
“Can I get the dumplings set too, Daddy?”
We held hands and strode down the Tokyo
street.
Vocabulary:
to seep – to leak or flow slowly through
small holes or gaps
to tug – to pull sharply
a commodity – a raw material such as
copper, or simple product such as coffee
posthumous – after death (e.g. The recently
deceased artist’s work was posthumously exhibited.)
allotted – given or set aside
to subside – to become less intense or
severe
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