Kazuo retrieved the boat's log and began turning the pages. During the night of the 23rd, all members of the family had the same dream. On the following day, the daughter, Yoko, sensed the presence of someone else on the boat. This meant that they must have picked up whatever it was on or before the 23rd. 'Picked up'? The words came to him just like that. But indeed, they'd picked up something nefarious. Didn't the log say something of the sort? Kazuo seemed to remember a passage that he'd merely skimmed. The incident had seemed insignificant to the father, who'd barely mentioned it in the log, and so the reader hadn't given it much attention either.
Kazuo hurriedly turned the pages in search of the section. He was sure there'd been something of the sort.
'Here it is!' The entry was dated July 23rd and appeared to have been made at around noon.
… Yoko has this annoying habit of picking up any shell she finds. She found something very odd this time. Strange that it should have been drifting in the ocean. It's a bottle containing some kind of shell, resembling a bivalve. The shell is about the size of a human hand and much larger than the neck of the bottle, but there it is inside the corked bottle. I wonder how anyone could have gotten the shell into it without damaging the bottle. Surely the thing can't have grown to that size in the bottle? Perish the thought!
I told her to throw the thing away, but she ignored me and hid it somewhere where Daddy can 't find it. She's clearly afraid I'll toss it overboard if ever I find it. But Daddy isn't so cruel as to throw away any of her treasures, even that shell. I wonder why Yoko doesn't find the shell 'creepy'. The shell's pattern looks like an eye. If you hold the bottle up and take a close look, it's really quite frightening, the way it seems to be staring back at you.
Those are EYES if ever I saw one. Normally the inside of a half-open shell is a lustrous pearly colour. But this shell has a fleshy mound bulging out on each side. It's altogether different from the thin muscle that pulls the halves together; it looks like flesh, with scarlet capillaries on the surface. The lens and gelatinous cornea are a cloudy brown, with the overall shape of the eye slightly warped. They resemble the eyes of a rotting tuna and seem to exude malevolence. An uncanny gaze I must say. We really should get rid of the thing! Treasure or not, I can't stand it. Where could the silly girl have hidden it?…
Sometime around midday on the 23rd, Yoko had found a bottle and picked it out of the sea. The bottle contained a shell resembling a bivalve. What was more, the shell bore a pattern that looked exactly like an eye.
… This is it. The source of the curse.
The problem was where the daughter had concealed the shell. He had to find it and find it fast. And then what? Return it back to the sea, of course.
Since the couple had been sleeping in the aft berth, the children must have been using the fore berth. Ever conscious of what was behind him, Kazuo began to go through the contents of the locker.
His consciousness seemed to skip, and the next thing he knew, he was staring at his hand, which was on the locker door, as though none of this really concerned him. His hand seemed to be an organ separate from his own body. When the hand moved slightly, he felt the urge to crush it. He wanted to destroy every animate object, every living thing. A gaze that bore down on him from God-knew-where told him to.
Throwing his head back with a growl of defiance, he fought the murderous urge. If he didn't hurry, it would get the better of him. Losing the battle meant doing to himself what he'd done in his dream.
He didn't stop at the fore berth; in the main cabin, in the aft berth, he searched every nook and cranny that could hide anything. Yet he found nothing like a shell in a bottle.
'Where could the damned kid have hidden it?'
Taking his anger out on the boat's furnishings, Kazuo turned the whole place upside down.
Before he knew it, his elbow was bleeding. He had apparently struck it on the corner of the table during his rampage. Could he have done it on purpose? He simply couldn't say. He couldn't even recall, beyond a haze, what he'd been doing a few seconds ago. Touching the lukewarm, viscous stuff with his left hand, confirming the colour of blood, he panicked and went on another mad rampage. He no longer knew whether he was searching for the bottle or just trying to maim himself. He cut his shin on the shard of a broken wine bottle, and soon slipped in the blood, landing forcefully on his buttocks.
Yet, for all his fervour, his search was in vain.
… I can't stay here.
It occurred to him to escape. It could just make things worse for him, but he hadn't the leisure to think about it. Chanting can't stay here' like some magic charm, he found a flashlight and made his way out on deck. There was nothing but sea on all sides. He had to resist the urge to jump overboard.
… Gotta escape!
Shining the flashlight over the deck ahead as he moved, he searched for the lifeboat stowed at the rear of the cockpit. Upon boarding the cruiser, they'd confirmed that the lifeboat was still there.
Praying, he opened the locker, and there to his immense relief he found what he was after. This was the only chance he had left. The Maritime Safety Agency was bound to dispatch another aircraft in the morning. The lifeboat was brightly coloured so as to be clearly visible from the air. They would find him sure enough. It also had a stock of several flares. Placing the container holding the boat at the edge of the deck, Kazuo pulled the tag as directed in the instruction manual. The lifeboat emitted a quiet hiss and began inflating. Securing it with a thin rope, he lowered it into the sea. Before climbing into it, he looked around one last time. He caught sight of three waterproof bags marked SUPPLY SACK in the container. The owner must have specially prepared them to supplement the emergency supplies that came with the lifeboat. Guessing that they contained water and food, Kazuo tossed all three bags into the lifeboat and jumped in after them.
It was probably because there hadn't been much wave action that the whole thing had gone smoothly. Just six feet in diameter, the circular boat was labelled as being good for six people, but it was cramped enough even for one.
Kazuo cast off the mooring rope, and the lifeboat rocked unsteadily away from the yacht. He was surprised to find no relief in watching the yacht steadily recede into the distance. He could only rationalize to himself that it was the anxiety of being in such a frail craft as the rubber float. As he thrust his legs out in front of him, he felt the motion of the sea on his rump through the bottom. Compared to the cruiser, this boat was like a leaf.
More than a hundred feet had opened up between Kazuo and the yacht. The sensation of being watched should have been gone by now. Yet, far from fading, it seemed to have grown in intensity. His adrenaline level was rocketing, but now he had nowhere to escape. Off the lifeboat there was nothing for him but death.
He watched as an irrevocable distance opened up between him and the yacht. Just as she disappeared out of sight into the darkness, his mind seemed to jump the rails. His perceptions became so clouded that he was no longer capable of understanding what exactly was happening. Countless people were conversing in his head at once. The incoherent din sounded like the roar that dominates the floor of the stock exchange. Eventually the voices merged into one and prodded him from behind. Kazuo thrust his hands into the sea and scooped up seawater to bathe his aching temples. Leaning out over the side, he sunk his face into the seawater and peered down below. A dark, fathomless vortex was spiralling at the bottom of the night time sea. Gazing into it, Kazuo was nearly sucked in.
He never did notice. Kazuo never did find out where the daughter had hidden the small glass bottle. She'd tucked it away in a SUPPLY SACK. Tossed onto the lifeboat, it now sat snugly between the rubber bottom and the side tubing. In the silver sack, among packs of water and cans of food, the eyes kept quiet.