“Hey, can you take me to see the Gull’s wife?” the Sheep Man asked excitedly.

“Oh, I’m such a clod. I mad a mistake. I meant to say ‘twisted’.”

The Sheep Professor flipped through the pages of the book dexterously. “Perhaps you looked up at the moon on June 15th?”

“I won’t turn around, but will you please tell me what you know about this curse?” the Sheep Man enquired.

“By the way, goddamit, you better have brought a sack lunch with you when you fell,” the Twist said, “because, if you didn’t, you’re in big trouble, goddamit.”

The Sheep Man borrowed the book from the Sheep Professor and returned home. In the book were spelled out countless regulations that had to be followed in order to break the spell. The Sheep Man tried to write them down, one by one.

“It must have been this dark the night the Most Holy Sheep Saint fell into that hole,” the Sheep Man murmured, as he searched for the hole with his flashlight. “It’ll be 1:16 soon. What if I can’t find the hole, and have to wait until Christmas Eve next year? That would be awfuuuu...” Just as he said this, the ground beneath his feet suddenly wasn’t there. The Sheep Man had fallen into the hole.

Although the Sheep Man was really quite upset about the deception, he soon began to enjoy himself. It was hard to stay mad when everyone around him was having such a good time.

“You! Why did you put this curse on me? Why did I have to do all that awful stuff? I never did anything bad to anybody, and yet I have to put up with all of this! I mean, really! My body is sore all over and look, I’ve got this welt on my head,” the Sheep Man said, showing the Most Holy Sheep Saint his welt.

“Yes, I agree. It was terrible. Terrible, indeed. But for this I had my reasons,” the Sheep Saint said.

He found a tuneriko tree in the forest, and cut off a small branch. In one day, he managed to whittle it into the handle of a shovel. The next day, he commenced to dig the hole in the back yard of his house.

“A curse, you say? Ah, I see. By all means, come on up,” the voice said.

“You’ll hafta come inside. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

That evening, bearing a package of six cinnamon donuts as a gift, the Sheep Man visited the Sheep Professor’s house. It was an old brick affair, and all the shrubberies had been pruned into the shape of sheep. The doorbell, too, as well as the gateposts and the flagstones, were all sheep. “Holy cow!” thought the Sheep Man to himself.

“But why did you set down here, then?”

“Boy, this is a very strange thing that’s happening,” the Sheep Man sighed.

“Look, there’s no problem. See, it’s straight. Why don’t you eat it? It’s delicious.”

Speculating thus, the Sheep Man found a small passageway which opened from beside the bed. Taking the candle with him, he climbed into the tunnel.

The Sheep Man descended, furious.

Of the six donuts, the Sheep Professor devoured four without so much as stopping for a breath. The remaining two he put in a cupboard as if they were very important. Finally, wetting his fingers with his tongue, he mopped up the scattered crumbs on the tabletop and licked his fingers clean.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sheep Man.”

There was the sound of a match and a candle was lit. The figure that held the candle was very tall. But though he was very tall, his shoulders were no higher than the Sheep Man’s. His head was very long and twisted around like a twisty donut.

One day, the Sheep Man was sitting in the park, eating donuts with something of a disturbed countenance, when he was approached by the Sheep Professor. “What’s wrong, my dear Sheep lad?” the Sheep Professor enquired.

“I’ve never heard that before,” said the Sheep Man, surprised. Is that true all over?”

“Well then, I don’t want to hear another word about the distance. I took you on my back just like I promised.”

“Good luck breaking your curse,” 209 said.

Once his fingers were thoroughly clean, the Sheep Professor retrieved a huge book from a bookcase. The History of Sheep Men was printed on the cover.

“Because this is the place,” the Seagull’s wife said.

From the air, the sea and the forest and the hill were all visible. The green of the forest and the dark blue of the sea stretched out endlessly, with the sandy, white beach like a belt between them. It was an incredibly beautiful view.

“No. I haven’t seen the moon in the last five years.”

“No. Once you’ve come, there’s no going back,” the Seagull’s wife said, shaking her beak from left to right. “I can take you to a place on my back, though, where you can get rid of this curse.”

“Who’s there? You collecting for the newspaper?” he heard a loud, rattling voice from within the house say.

“All right. Let’s make a deal,” the Seagull’s wife said. “You clean this room, and I’ll take you to the place where you can break your curse.”

“Oh yes, the curse. Oh, I see. Munch munch. Yes I know something about it,” Nobody said. “Really delicious. Munch munch.”

Always with the twins,

“But you look pretty heavy,” the Seagull’s wife said, dubiously.

In the afternoon of that day, the Sheep Man went into the suburbs of the town to pay a visit to the Sheep Professor, but the Sheep Professor’s house wasn’t there. There was nothing but a vacant lot. The sheep-shaped shrubs and gateposts and paving stones had all disappeared.

“It certainly was fun. Caw caw,” said the Seagull’s wife.

“Just dive into that spring. Munch munch. It’s really easy,” Nobody said.

“You must be very good,” 209 said.

“Can htｔｐ://www•99lｉｂ.neｔyou see the little shack on top of that big rock over there? That’s the Seagull’s house,” 209 said, pointing.

So the three of them sat in a row on the ground and ate donuts.

“I see, I see,” said the Sheep Man, scratching his ears.

“No, I feel fine,” the Seagull’s wife said shaking her head. “Why would you ask such a stupid question? I’m famous in these parts for my vigour.”

The Sheep Saint turned and walked briskly toward the interior of the hole. The Sheep Man, still shaking his head, followed hesitantly after him. Before long, the Sheep Saint came to stand in front of a door, and promptly opened it.

September passed, and then October and November, but the Sheep Man hadn’t been able to begin the music requested by the Sheep Men’s Council. Because the Sheep Man worked in the neighborhood donut shop, he had very little time to devote to the composition. Moreover, whenever he began to play his ramshackle old piano, the wife of the boarding house’s landlord would invariably come up the steps and pound on his door.

“I eat donuts for lunch everyday. I can’t remember exactly what kind of donuts I ate on Christmas Eve last year, but...umm... I’m pretty certain I had donuts.”

“I guess this is OK for the Seagull’s wife, since she can fly. But it’s no fun for those of us who have to climb,” the Sheep Man complained.

“Don’t tell me anything about it, hee hee hee,” Right Twist said. “That’s worse than being cursed, ha ha ha ha ha.”

“Well, then maybe you ate something with a hole in it on Christmas Eve last year?”

“Umm, not the Gull,” said 208.

“Look here, this misfortune has befallen you because you are a very careless sheep man. You have brought this upon yourself. Nevertheless,” the Sheep Professor continued, “because you have brought donuts to me, I will instruct you. While December 24th is Christmas Eve, it is also the Feast of the Sheep Saint. On this day, as the Most Holy Sheep Saint was walking along a road in the middle of the night, he fell into a hole and died. For this reason, it is a very sacred day. Consequently, the eating of foods with holes in them on this day has been ex-pli-cit-ly prohibited since ancient times. Such foods as macaroni, Swiss cheese, donuts, onion rings, and of course bagels, can cause severe problems.”

“The twins told me that you know everything there is to know about curses,” said the Sheep Man, nervously. That beak could have split his head open and killed him. The Seagull’s wife looked him over doubtfully.

“I’m not heavy at all. I’m barely 75 pounds,” the Sheep Man said, cheating by about 10 pounds.

“Well, it’s too late now, goddamit.” the Twist said, still crying.

“Oh, I see,” said the Sheep Man.

“You’ve been invited to a Christmas party, don’t you see,” the Sheep Saint said.

“There is, there is,” the Sheep Saint said, pulling aside a giant cloth. Beneath this cover was a white, sheep-shaped piano.

“I don’t know the answer to these questions. These events happened 2500 years ago, so the causes cannot be known. But anyway, it was decided then. It is a law inviolable. Whether you know it or not, the breaking of the law will result in a curse being placed upon you. When you were cursed, you ceased to be a sheep man. You cannot compose the Sheep Music for this reason. Yes.”

When he turned around to look, he saw twin girls standing there. One wore a shirt bearing the number ‘208’, and the other similarly wore ‘209’.

“Thank you, Mr. Sheep Man,” 208 said.

“I’m not a weirdo or anything. Please open the door.”

“Boy, that’s tough,” the Seagull’s wife said. “You’ll have to find another way back to your world.”

“We, the Sheep Men’s Council,” began the Sheep Man’s visitor, unloosening the fastener at his collar so as to allow the wind from the fan to blow in, “every year select one sheep, blessed with prodigious musical talent, to compose music in honour of our Most Holy Patron, the Sheep Saint. This music will thence be performed on Christmas Day. This year, happily, you have been chosen.”

“May there be peace and happiness in the sheep man world forever,” the Sheep Saint prayed.

The inside of the house was terribly messy. The floor was covered with dust, a bottle of catsup had spilled all over the table, and the trashcan was overflowing.

“Yeah, I’ll keep my promise. Here, climb on my back.”

“If that was the reason, I guess it’s OK then,” the Sheep Man said, nodding agreeably.

“Hmm,” said the Sheep Professor. “There’s a way, but I’m afraid that it’s not very easy. But that’s OK, isn’t it?”

At last Christmas Eve arrived. The Sheep Man got a dozen donuts of the twisty variety, without holes, from the donut shop, and packed them in a knapsack. This was the extent of his sack lunch. Finally, he put his wallet and a small flashlight in the breast pocket of his sheep suit, and closed the fastener. At 1:00, he snuck around the house and was engulfed in total darkness. There was no moon and the stars weren’t out, so he could not even see his hand in front of his face.

“Really tough,” the Sheep Man confirmed with a sigh.

3) At the time of the Hole-Falling, a sack lunch bearing no hole-containing foods must be brought.

“This fellow certainly likes his donuts,” thought the Sheep Man, rather impressed.

The Sheep Man, doing his best to keep from slipping, elbowed his way through the branches. Once inside, he saw a hole in the tree that had been fashioned into a small cabin, and in front of the cabin, the Twist squattwww.99lib.neted, shaving himself with a giant razor.

“We’re all waiting for you,” 208 said.

“With pleasure,” said 209.

The Sheep Man gazed at the calendar with a feeling of dread. Even though Christmas was just four short weeks away, he hadn’t been able to write a single bar of the promised music, since he couldn’t play the piano.

The Sheep Man looked around frantically, but he couldn’t see anything for the darkness.

“Not knowing about the Feast of the Sheep Saint...that’s startling,” replied the Sheep Professor, even more surprised. “Kids today...they don’t know anything! When you were becoming a sheep man, didn’t they teach you this stuff in Sheep Man’s School?”

“Oh, excuse me. I’ve come on account of a curse. You can’t help me by any chance, can you?” the Sheep Man replied in the direction of the voice.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the Seagull’s wife’s face popped out. She was very tall and her beak was pointed like a pick-axe.

“That’s right,” said 209.

“What’s wrong, ma’am? Aren’t you feeling well?” the Sheep Man asked with concern.

“Donuts with holes in them?”

The Seagull’s wife, still laughing heartily to herself, took off into the air and flew back in the direction of her house.

“Cut that racket out! I can barely here the television.”

“Maybe to you, but I see it everyday, and I’m sick of it,” the Seagull’s wife replied with evident boredom.

“Well, thank you very much. You have really helped me out,” the Sheep Man replied. He then reached into his knapsack, retrieved two donuts, and handed one to each of the twins.

But the Seagull’s wife’s house took quite a long time to clean. It hadn’t been cleaned in literally months. He scrubbed the plates and tea cups, caked with filth; wiped down the table-top; vacuumed the floor; polished the tiles; and picked up all the trash and threw it out. When he was finished with all of this, the Sheep Man was exhausted.

“It was delicious,” mumbled Nobody.

While the Twist ate donuts and wept, the Sheep Man borrowed his candle and investigated the bottom of the hole. It was a bare, broad chamber, containing only the Twist’s bed and desk. “Since he called himself ‘the gatekeeper’, there must certainly be a gate around here somewhere that he’s protecting,” the Sheep Man reasoned. “If there’s not a gate, you certainly don’t need a gatekeeper.”

“Oh, good. If that’s all, I can dig it. No problem,” the Sheep Man said, relieved.

“At your service,” said 208.

“Hello.”

Right Twist, with his eyes turned to the right and his chin pointing left, was carefully shaving with the razor and giggling all the while.

That night, the Sheep Man was boundlessly happy. The sheep piano made a splendid sound, and beautiful and delightful melodies danced through his head, one after another.

Using a measuring tape, the Sheep Man carefully insured that his hole was dug exactly to the specifications for diameter and depth.

“So, master Sheep,” the Professor began heavily. “In this book is written everything conceivable concerning sheep men. Here we will find the reason why you haven’t been able to write the sheep music.”

After shaking his head a little, the Sheep Man tried to shine the flashlight at his surroundings, only to find that the flashlight wasn’t there. He surmised that he must have dropped it when he fell into the hole.

When the Sheep Man awoke, he found himself in his own room, in his own bed. Although it seemed as if he was waking up from a dream, he knew this was no mere dream. There was still a very distinct bump on his head, there was a grease stain on the back of his sheep’s clothing, and the ramshackle old piano had disappeared from his room, and in it’s place stood the white sheep piano.

“Anon, anon,” the Sheep Saint said. “But first come over here. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

“What’s this, goddamit?” came a voice out of the darkness. “It’s only 1:14. You’re 2 minutes early, goddamit. You’ll have to climb back up to the top and do it again from the beginning.”

“Yes, of course,” the Sheep Man said, resenting it inwardly. “Here you go.” And they sat together on the bench and munched donuts.

“Don’t be stupid. Not just any hole will do. The size and depth of the hole necessary to remove the curse are very clearly defined. Luckily, it’s fairly small. I’ll try to find it for you now.”

“Well, you know, right and left are opposites,” Right Twist said, shaving behind his ears. “Ha ha ha ha ha.”

2) The Hole-Falling must occur at 1:16 in the morning, on Christmas Eve. (Because the Sheep Saint fell at this time.)

“Will you come out and eat donuts with me?” the Sheep Man tried to tempt him. “It’s lonely sitting here by myself.”

“Thanks for the food,” 209 said.

Having grown rather hungry, the Sheep Man decided to eat one of the remaining donuts from his knapsack, but while he was nibbling on it, he heard a voice from behind him.

“But I can’t dig a hole that deep by myself. And anyway, if I fall into a hole like that, won’t I be killed before the curse is broken?”

“Wow, great!” 208 said.

So the twins and the Sheep Man walked along the road through the forest together. As they walked, the twins sang a little song:

“She knows all about curses, after all,” 209 said to 208.

“Who’s there? Where in the world are you?” the Sheep Man asked, surprised.

“What a idiotic thing to say,” erupted the landlord’s wife. “If you don’t like it, you can just leave right now. Just because we let weirdoes like you live here doesn’t mean 九-九-藏-书-网that you can make a laughing stock out of us. If this is a problem for you, well, too bad.”

“Hole?” said the Sheep Man. “This hole, what kind of hole is it exactly? Is any hole OK?”

“Baa...baa...ba,” the Sheep Man stammered. Weren’t you just at the bottom of the hole?”

Even if the wind blows right and left.

“You got to, goddamit. Jeez, a little bit earlier and you could have flattened me. I thought you were coming at 1:16, goddamit.”

When the Sheep Man opened his eyes, there stood before him a little old man about five feet tall.

“Wait, wait; there’s more: ‘When attempting to break the curse, it shall not matter if the depth of the hole be reduced by the scale of 100 parts to one. Thus, a hole of two meters and three centimeters shall be sufficient’.”

“I have this blasted curse to thank for all this misery,” he complained silently to himself.

“I’m not feeling very well. Even though Christmas is coming, something is really bothering me. That is to say, Christmas is part of the problem,” the Sheep Man began, and then confessed the whole story to the Sheep Professor.

Getting to the Seagull’s wife’s house was quite a death-defying endeavor. The rock was rugged and steep, and there was no path to speak of. In addition, a sharp sea breeze threatened to blow the Sheep Man off at any time.

Regulations (1) and (2) were fine, and even the rule concerning the height of the drop made some sense, but the Sheep Man really couldn’t understand the necessity of the sack lunch.

“We can’t go outside the forest,” 208 said.

“How strange,” the Sheep Man thought to himself. “But I guess I had better do it the way it says here.”

“That’s good,” the Sheep Man said. “By the way, I’ve had this curse put on me, and I was wondering if you know what I’m supposed to do now. I came here to try to break the spell.”

“Oh,” the Sheep Man groaned. “But why have I been cursed, do you suppose? I haven’t done anything bad to anybody.”

After walking for 10 or 15 minutes, the forest ended and the sea spread out before them for as far as the eye could see.

“Umm, no...I’m known as the Sheep Man...” he began.

“I’m digging a hole to dump garbage in,” the Sheep Man replied. “I thought maybe it would be handy.”

“Now, about this curse...” the Sheep Man began.

“What the hell’s this?” the Twist said, seeing the donuts. “You must be an idiot to bring me food that looks like my own goddam head.”

“Mmm...delicious. Munch munch,” Nobody said, helping himself to a third piece.

Aside from the numbers, the two girls were alike in every detail.

“I won’t be able to meet any of those people ever again,” the Sheep Man thought to himself. “The Twists, and the 208 and 209 twins, and the Seagull’s wife, and Nobody, and the Sheep Professor and the Sheep Saint.” Overcome with these thoughts, tears streamed from his eyes. He had really grown to like them all a lot.

Somehow, he eventually found his way to the top of the rock and knocked on the door of the Seagull’s wife’s house.

Translated by Christophor Allison

“Cursed?”

“I really hate this place,” he said. “Right Twist or Left Twist, they’re twisted just the same. And that Seagull’s wife was so selfish.”

“The Seagull,” said 209.

“Well, give it here, goddamit. I’m starved.”

Outside the window, snow had fallen. On the branches of the trees, on the mail boxes, and on the fence posts, white snow was piled high.

“They are. I made them myself,” the Sheep Man replied.

“I put this curse on you so that you would come here,” the Sheep Saint replied. “This way was exciting, and everyone had fun doing it.”

“But I don’t know how to swim.”

“Oh dear! I’m sorry,” someone said. “I didn’t mean for you to dive in head first.”

May there be peace and happiness in the sheep man world forever...

“Umm, I couldn’t help over-hearing you. Being cursed must be a great annoyance,” a timid voice suddenly came out of the darkness.

When he returned to the boardinghouse, a Christmas card with a picture of a sheep on it had come in the mail. Inside was printed:

While he was digging, the landlady spotted him.

“From the same family, but your personalities couldn’t be more different,” the Sheep Man said, impressed.

“I don’t want any,” said the voice curtly.

“Of course I brought it,” the Sheep Man said, nervously.

“Is there a piano here?” asked the Sheep Man.

The Sheep Man explained all of the preceding events, one by one.

“It’s OK. I have lots. But if you’re shy, I can leave one here for you and then turn around, and then you can come here and eat it. How about that?”

“Yes, I imagine so. I mean, almost all donuts have hole in them.”

“And interesting, goddammit,” added Left Twist.

“You don’t need to worry about whether you know how to swim. It’s OK. These are great. Munch munch munch.”

The Sheep Mans Christmas

The Sheep Professor retrieved a tattered book entitled The Legend of the Most Holy Sheep Saint and poured over it’s pages.

“That’s it!” the Sheep Professor said, nodding vigorously. “You have been cursed as a result of this. Surely some sheep teacher must have taught you not to eat food with holes in it on Christmas Eve?”

Once the Sheep Man had gotten on, the Seagull’s wife quickly took off into the sky. Since this was the first time the Sheep Man had ever flown anywhere, he gripped her neck very tightly.

Christmas Eve was only three days off. In three short days, he had to make a shovel with a handle of tuneriko wood, and dig a hole with a circumference of two meters and a depth of 203 centhttp://www.99lib.netimeters.

With great trepidation, the Sheep Man walked to the edge of the spring and jumped into the middle, head first. As soon as he dove, however, all of the water vanished, so he landed on his head on the bottom of the hole with a heavy thud. His head swam.

Thinking that he couldn’t take much more, the Sheep Man trudged slowly down the road. After walking a little while longer, he spied a beautiful spring, and decided to stop there and drink some water and eat another donut. When he had finished the donut he began to grow sleepy, and stretching out on the grass beside the spring, had a nice nap.

While it was yet high summer, the Sheep Man was asked to compose some music for Christmas. The Sheep Man and his sheep visitor, who had come to ask him to undertake the composition, sweated profusely under their summer sheep suits. As long as summer lasted, the Sheep Man was quite miserable, because he was but a poor sheep man and could not afford an air conditioner. As the fan slapped around and around in circles, the sheep ears of the two sheep fellows fluttered softly in the breeze.

“What’s that?” asked the Sheep Man.

“Mr. Sheep Man, you ought to play the piano for us,” 208 said.

“Ha, ha. No, that wasn’t me,” the Twist said with a laugh. “That’s my big brother. See, I twist to the right. Big Brother twists to the left. He cries easily and is always saying mean things about people.”

“Really?” the Sheep Man replied skeptically. Because the Sheep Professor had only studied sheep-related matters all his life, there had developed among the people in the neighborhood the suspicion that he was a little bit queer in the head.

“Christmas is still four and a half months away,” he thought to himself. “With that much time, I can certainly compose some magnificent sheep music.”

“No, it was a mistake,” the Sheep Man said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I work at a donut shop, you see, and these twisty donuts were the only things that didn’t have holes in them.”

“If only I hadn’t ate those donuts on Christmas Eve last year, I wouldn’t be up this creek now,” the Sheep Man said to himself.

“Someone must have removed the cover during the day,” the Sheep Man thought as he fell. “I’ll bet is was that nasty landlady. She always hates everything I do.” But when the Sheep Man finished thinking this thought, he realized something very strange was happening. “The hole I dug was only 203 centimeters deep. Surely, after falling for so long, I should have hit the bottom by now.”

“Yes, really,” the Sheep Professor said. “Come to my house tonight at 6:00. I’ll teach you excellent methods and techniques of composition. By the way, can I have one of those cinnamon donuts?”

“Quite so,” said the Sheep Professor nodding several times. “Because you have been cursed, you can neither play the piano nor compose music.”

“The Gull and the Seagull are totally different, after all,” said 208.

“Nonsense,” the Sheep Professor said, shaking his head. “Even if you could play that piano, you still wouldn’t write the music. The deeper reason is in here.”

“Oh, this is delicious. Really delicious,” Nobody said. “Don’t turn around.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry,” the Sheep Man said sheepishly.

“Hey! You’re hurting me. Don’t pull so hard. I can’t breathe,” the Seagull’s wife growled.

“Umm, yes...certainly,” the Sheep Man said, unconvinced.

“I’ll be happy to do it. You can count on me,” he replied, his chest swelling with pride. “I’ll certainly do my best to write excellent sheep music.

“This piano was made especially for you. Play it to your heart’s content.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But I didn’t do so well with my studies,” the Sheep Man said, scratching his head.

Lacking any course of action, the Sheep Man retrieved one of the twisted donuts, and after untangling the twist and stretching it out straight, handed it to the Twist.

“I beg your pardon, but what was the Most Holy Sheep Saint doing walking along a road in the middle of the night? And why was there a hole in the road?”

“I’m not really worthy of your donuts,” the invisible Nobody said. “Although that does sound awfully nice.”

“You’re really not collecting for the newspaper?”

by MURAKAMI Haruki

The rope ladder swung back and forth, making it difficult to climb. Sweating heavily, the Sheep Man climbed all the way to the top, 30 or 40 rungs when, from the midst of the limbs, he heard a bright voice say:

After about ten more minutes, it slowly began to grow light in the tunnel. Soon, the mouth of the passage was in view. From outside the hole, bright sunlight spilled in.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever had such delicious donuts,” 208 said.

“That ought to do it,” the Sheep Man said to himself, covering the hole with a wooden lid.

“Please don’t bother looking for me. I’m not worth the time.”

“Ah! That hurt,” the Sheep Man said. “And just who the heck are you?”

“A pleasure, ha ha hee hee,” giggled Right Twist.

“I’m terribly sorry. But since I have to have this music done by Christmas, might I beg of you to bear with me a little while?” the Sheep Man said meekly.

“What in the world is this? What are all of you doing here?” the Sheep Man said, stunned.

“This year especially, it being the 2500th anniversary of His passing, we desire particularly splendid music, befitting to this sacred event,” he concluded.

This is really what happened when he woke up.

Always with the twins,

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t see very well because it was dark, and I fell into the hole by a

藏书网

ccident,” the Sheep Man said. “But I’m afraid there’s no way I could climb to the top of a hole that deep.”

Then suddenly, with quite a thud, the Sheep Man hit the bottom of the hole. And, although the hole was fearfully deep, he was peculiarly unhurt.

“That would make me awfully happy.”

“Uhh, I’m nobody, really,” the voice said, sounding embarrassed.

“Hmmm...” said the Sheep Professor, stroking his beard. “If that’s the case, I think I can help you.”

“So now you’ll take me to the place where the curse can broken?”

“Well...hmm...ah, here it is. It says that the Most Holy Sheep Saint fell into a hole two meters in diameter and 203 meters deep, whereupon he passed away. Therefore, a hole of the same dimensions will suffice.”

“But Professor, I already know the reason. It’s because the landlady won’t let me play the piano,” said the Sheep Man. “If only I could play the piano...”

“Hey there, what are you doing up here?”

“How terrible!” 208 said.

“It looks pretty good,” the Seagull’s wife said, looking satisfied. “A home should always be this neat.”

“Sorry, sorry,” the Sheep Man apologized to 208 and 209. “Can you take me to see the Seagull’s wife?”

“You have been curse,” the Sheep Professor said with a grimace.

“Well, no, I guess not, but...”

“Done.”

“The way is for you yourself to fall into a hole.”

“Hey guys,” the Sheep Man said. “Would you like to come over here and eat donuts with me?”

1) The hole must be dug with a shovel having a handle made of tuneriko wood. (Because the Sheep Saint had carried a staff made of this wood.)

When he came out of the tunnel, he found a broad, empty clearing before him. Tall trees such as he had never seen before surrounded this clearing. Puffy, white clouds floated in the sky, and he could hear the song of birds.

Even if the wind blows east and west.

“OK,” nobody said. “But I’m really small, so a half will be plenty.”

“But then you wouldn’t have cleaned my house for me, would you?”

When he awoke, it had grown dark and stars shone whitely in the sky. The wind rose with a groaning voice, and sometimes it was mixed with the baying of a wolf.

“That’s a good idea. The seagull’s wife will know what to do, I’ll bet,” 208 said to 209.

“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes. Please tell me.”

“They look really good,” 209 said.

“I wonder if he should try visiting the Seagull’s wife,” 209 said to 208.

“Well, I’d really like to hear them,” the Sheep Man said angrily.

“But can’t I just go back the way I came?”

“I’m such an idiot,” the Sheep Man said weakly. “Is there any way of removing this curse?”

The Sheep Man put a donut on the grass and turned around. Before long, there was the sound of someone approaching stealthily and then eating a donut.

“Huh. I wonder what I should do now. In that book, it said that if I fell down the hole then the curse would be broken, but it didn’t mention anything about this.”

“You there! What are you digging that hole for?” she demanded.

“But I’ve been cursed, so I...” stammered the Sheep Man.

In order to stretch her wings a little, she flew around and around in circles over her house, and then set down on a prairie not even a hundred yards away.

Right Twist and Left Twist sang, 208 and 209 danced, the Seagull’s wife flew around the room cawing, and the Sheep Professor and the Most Holy Sheep Saint faced off in a beer-drinking contest. Nobody rolled over and over on the ground looking happy. Soon, Christmas cake was distributed to everyone.

“I am the Most Holy Sheep Saint,” the old man said with a kindly smile.

“But this can’t be more than a hundred yards from your house,” said the Sheep Man with surprise. “If it’s this close, there was no point in riding on your back. I could just as easily have walked.”

The Twist took the donut and ate it with relish, although he didn’t stop crying.

“Oh. Is that it? Well, if you try anything funny, I’m gonna call the cops,” the landlady said scornfully. With that, she turned and walked away.

“How very strange. When I fell into the hole, it was just past one in the morning. It can’t be dawn yet,” the Sheep Man thought, craning his neck.

“We’ve been waiting all this time,” 209 said.

“Where can I go to get rid of it?” the Sheep Man asked.

“Merry Christmas!” everyone shouted. Everybody was in the room: Right Twist and Left Twist, 208 and 209, the Seagull’s wife, and even Nobody. Nobody still had crumbs from the donut around his mouth. He could also see a figure that looked like the Sheep Professor.

The Sheep Man opened the knapsack and, retrieving the twisty donuts one by one, handed them over to the Twist.

“Being cursed must be tough,” 209 said.

“I’m exhausted. And on top of that, I’m lost in a strange land. And I still haven’t even broken this confounded curse,” the Sheep Man said to himself.

Inside the room, there was a large decorated Christmas tree. Underneath the tree, wrapped presents tied up with ribbons had been piled.

“Ahh! You said ‘twisty’, goddamit!” the Twist said, falling to his knees. Tears began to flow from his twisty eyes. “It’s because of this goddam face that I have to stay at the bottom of this goddam hole and be the goddam gate-keeper, goddamit.”

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it,” the Sheep Man said.

When the Sheep Man looked around him, he saw a large tree standing in the middle of the prairie. There was a rope ladder attached to the trunk of the tree. Since there was nothing else in sight, the Sheep Man decided to try to climb to the top of the ladder.