not help noticing between the wide cracks of the boards people down below like tiny black beans. At this sight, my throat became clogged and I could hardly breathe. I must stay still, I told myself. If I try looking at the sea or the twelve-storied pagoda of Asakusa, I’m done for.
Gradually I noticed that the sun was sinking and that the whole sky had turned crimson. Why in God’s name had I come up here? How would I ever get down? I was bound to lose my footing on those endless steps. As my mind darted back over my past life, which now seemed infinitely remote, I remembered with shame how I had cursed the monotony and never felt really grateful of its safety.
Only a few feet away, gaped the huge, black empty mouth of the chimney. I was aware of a distant rumbling sound coming from its depths, like the roar of some great monster. At the same time I suddenly realized that the entire chimney was swaying back and forth, even if only very slightly. I had forgotten that tall buildings and chimneys move in the wind.
A sense of despair came over me. Just then I heard an astounding remark from Kichikō.
“I don’t suppose you could do that trick of yours up here?” he said.
I looked up at Chō who was standing directly over me. His face at this moment seemed more enormous than ever. He smiled strangely and looked round.
“Of course I could,” he said after a while. “I can stand on my hands anywhere. The trouble is, there’s no proper place to rest my hands on up here. These damned boards bend every time you step on them. Besides, this platform’s so narrow that the railing would get in the way when I raised my legs.”
“Supposing we wagered you? If you can do it up here, we’ll each give you a yen,” said Kichikō after a pause. “What about it?” he added looking down at me. “You’d give him a yen, wouldn’t you?”
The whole thing was a joke, I realized. Chō was a determined
