18
THE FUGITIVE

A new year came, and it was 1982.
I was confident in myself since I sold out the ATC red
salmon.
On the other hand, I was disturbed by a strong uneasiness.
It was like a persecution complex that everyone in the world
knew what I was thinking about. As a matter of fact, I was
always thinking about marijuana. People were picking on me
and made fun of me with what they knew.
I think, I was out of my mind: I easily got mad and forgot
things; the world started to look strange; ropes were hanging
down at places I walked, to invite my neck for execution; a
truck tried to hit me purposely inside the market; a cleaner
man who suddenly came out of a rest room surprised me a lot.
I thought that he was wearing a gas mask which was to avoid
the gas prepared to kill me.
But I still believed that I was sober enough.
I had some friends in the market who knew that I had been
smoking marijuana, so there might have been more people
who knew about it too.
Anyway, I was confident to give no evidence of the crime
I was committing. I didn't notice that my mind was starting to
crack under the pressure of hiding my real feelings.
One day, at the auction, I started a fist fight with a
middleman who used to always annoy me with disturbing
words. My fellow workers had to stop me. It must have been
a burst of stress.
My boss recommended me to see a doctor. He also asked
me whether there was something wrong with my life. All
those things were from kindness but I swept them all away.
A middleman of the Market who was also the head of the
Tukiji Crime Prevention Association came to me. He started
talking about how good the detectives of the Tukiji Police were.
The way he talked seemed to be very personal.
I thought that that was it. I decided to quit Touto Marine
Products.
I thought that I would rather run away from Tukiji than
quit marijuana.
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