I got into her car, and we departed.
“The man running the drugstore below once said he wanted me to sell this car.” She spoke to me while taking the wheel. “I should have sold this car to him and bought another as the replacement.”
“Is there any part of this car that you dislike?”
“No. It’s not like that at all. But if anything, we prefer a new one, right?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Every new thing is a good thing. Don’t you think so?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Is it not the case for airplanes?”
“Ah, yes. Of course, I would be very glad if I have the opportunity to get on a new aircraft. Still, I am relieved to get on the same old one that I am accustomed to.”
The car went through the broad street and got on a highway on an outskirt of the city. We were traveling west. The sun was in the sky ahead of us. I did not think that we would go any farther before sunset.
“Hey, why don’t we talk about fake old tales?”
“Fake old tales? I think old tales are generally fake.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Well, we tell the stories of our lives. But they have to be fabricated lies. It is the rule.”
“What do you mean?”
“So, I will show you the example first.” She smiled.
She started telling a story about the time when she was a little girl. Her parents lived in a distant place because of their works. The younger sister of her mother fostered her. It was a small town near a port. Their house was a cabin at the corner of a yard in somebody else’s large mansion. Her aunt worked at the estate.
“The lawn was very comfortable to the skin. It was a bit sloped. When I rolled on it, I could see the sky that was rolling over and over repeatedly. Because it made my head spin round and round, I could not stand up for a while. And then, yeah, a dog was there. A big dog with long hair. It was very quiet and so big that it did not move if I leaned against it. It would not get angry at me.”
I was about to ask if it was really a fake story. She might have wanted me to ask about it. But, she would answer, “Of course, it is fake.” Because of her occupation, she might have prepared such stories all the time. As she fabricated stories, her fake tales might have been developed steadily.
She then talked about a rich person living in the mansion. The master and his second wife. And two teen boys, who were the children of the first wife. She then explained, there were many maids and butlers, one of whom might have been a relative of the rich.
When she grew up a little bit, she could also enter the mansion occasionally. One of the boys liked her and brought her to his room. Then, he read picture books aloud for her. She did not understand what they meant at all and was afraid because all the pictures were painted entirely in black. The bed was bouncy like a trampoline. The boy played on it and cried once when he fell off from it. Such a trivial story it was.
While we drove on a boringly straight road, the sun set in a moment. I brought my body close to her and read the meter. It was a habit of us pilots to check the instrument panel all the time.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said. “You may want to replenish this car with gas.”
“Oh, you’re right. I thought I still had plenty more.”
“We have been going for long hours. Two hours have already passed.”
“That much?”
We saw the lights of what appeared to be a city, and we got off from the highway. We found a gas station along the street, and refueled there. I was the one who actually removed the fuel-tank cap and put the gasoline.
“Wow, you can do such a thing. That makes you the genuine pilot that you are.”
“Anyone can do such a thing.”
“I cannot.” Laughing, she put a cigarette into her mouth.
“Hey, you should not,” I warned, in a slightly louder voice.
“Oh, what?”
“Smoking is dangerous. The gas will catch fire from it.”
“Oh, I see ...” She showed a startled look, took the cigarette from her mouth into her hand, and sighed. “It’s dangerous. That’s a relief. I’ll feel more secure if you are with me.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I cannot travel alone. I will probably lose something and end up going in a different direction. I cannot bear that.”
“Have you ever traveled alone?”
“No, I have not.” She shook her head. “I know I would definitely end up having a bitter experience.”
What kind of bitter experience? I found myself thinking about it.
After refueling the car, she went to the cash register to pay. I was waiting for her while sitting on the catfish-faced hood of the vehicle. There was no other car. At the cash register, a big young man in a white jumpsuit was standing. His chin was as prominent as that of a robot. He was glancing at me. After talking with him for a while, she came back to the car.
“You are hungry, right? I asked him about a delicious restaurant ... There is one just nearby.”
We got into the car again.
“He asked me from where we came.” She said, while starting the engine. “I guess that people can tell if we are traveling.”
“This is a small town. So, we are recognized as strangers, I suppose.”
“Ah, you may be right.”
The place she mentioned was a drive-in style restaurant facing the main street. The variety of the lineup on the menu was moderately so-so. It was the kind of place that I would expect to see a high school student, who was as blunt as a reptile, working as a waiter. Of course, even after we entered the place, the anticipation did not change. It was a restaurant that would meet my expectation.
Few people were inside the restaurant. When we sat at a table by the window, we no longer saw other customers. I heard music, which was so cheerful that I could dance to it or perform gymnastic maneuvers with it. But it was chattering, as if the speaker cone was made of aluminum foil. Both of us ordered the standard beef steak. She asked me if I would drink alcohol, but I declined the offer. She said she could not drink because she had to drive. If she was worrying about drunken driving, then all I had to do was to nominate myself as the designated driver, of course. But I did not make such a proposal. It was none of my business, and I would much rather prefer to avoid that.
“I wonder if I could eat it up.” She said, while leaning forward. “It depends on its taste, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think you can finish it.”
“Oh? Because of its disgusting taste?”
“No. It has more to do with its quantity.”
“I should have asked them to reduce the amount.”
“Yes.”
“When you were a child, were you taught by your parents not to leave the served food?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Now, no one would scold me if I leave food on the plate. I feel something strange about that.”
“Did your aunt scold you?” I asked.
“What? Oh, umm, yes. She was quite strict. Thanks to her, I have turned out to be such a refined lady.” She burst into laughter and chuckled for a while.
The steak dishes were brought to our table. As expected, they were too large for us to eat them up. I think steak is the type of food that simply lacks the element of surprise more than any other food in the world.
There was a phone booth near the entrance of the restaurant. I looked at it several times. I was thinking about making a phone call and whom to call. She seemed to notice it. When she lit a cigarette, she suddenly showed me a sad expression.
“Do you think I should make a phone call?” She had her lips crooked.
“Yes, I do.” I nodded. Of course, she should do so.
“What will I say to him? Hey, what do you think I should say?”
“You say, ‘I will take a day off.’”
“What reason?”
Reason. Why does she stick to such a thing?