The sky is dark blue. The orange moon is floating and wavering to our right. I feel the urge for turning toward the direction to shoot it down. Whatever vehicle I get on, I always feel the impulse to check what is behind my back. I have to speak many times to myself, who keeps on trying to watch my back, You do not have to do that now.
The engine of Tokino’s motorbike is straight-twin. I have never driven such a large two-wheeled vehicle. If it falls down on its side, I probably won’t be able to stand it right back up with my strength. The strokes from the engine camshaft are tuned at a comfortably high frequency, and are sounding sexy. The revolution is so smooth as if it is still leaving extra leeway. The way the sound in the exhaust pipe sometimes grumbles like a fretful child is somewhat cute.
The motorbike slips into the parking lot of a drive-in diner, which has a bright yellow neon sign. I see several flat houses around the place. After Tokino’s motorbike becomes quiet, the songs of insects silently seeps into my ears. A bug zapper is buzzing and discharging sparks at the entrance. Bugs are occasionally colliding with the bug zapper, and are making the faint zapping sounds sporadically. A huge truck towing a trailer is parked across the street. It is too big to enter the parking lot. I feel somewhat uneasy when such an object is too close to me because it would be an easy target from the sky.
“What is this place?” I ask while taking off my goggles.
“Meat pies are delicious here.” Tokino says. “Aren’t you hungry?”
On a brick terrace, which is one step higher than the asphalt ground, an elderly man with dirty clothes is sitting. Holding a bottle in a paper bag, he is staring at us.
We push a glass door and get inside. The place is filled with cigarette smoke and slow-tempo rock ‘n’ roll music, the mixture ratio of which is probably 4 to 6. I feel somewhat of the pressure. Tokino is whispering something to an old man standing behind the bar counter. Then, he signals to me with his eyes. We walk to the inner part on the right side, and reach a table at the corner. We see the terrace, brightly lit with yellow neon, and a pitch-black parking lot through the glass of the windows. Only a silhouette of the huge trailer on the road can be barely seen.
I do not know where she has been, but a woman wearing a white apron appears. She is standing beside the table, flips over the pages of a memo pad, and holds a pencil to jot down something. It must be a proper gesture to indicate that she is coming here without saying a word to take our orders.
“Beer for me, and a meat pie for him.” Tokino orders.
“Coffee, please.” I order, while lighting a cigarette.
She is jotting down the orders without saying anything.
After finishing it, she looks at us and widens her eyes.
“That’s all.” Tokino says.
I see the waitress leaving the table, and then ask in a low voice. “Is this the place where you should bring me to?”
“Here is Point 1.” Tokino snorts. Then, he looks back, surveys the diner once, and then looks at me. “There are such things as proper procedures for things to do. You just saw the old man drinking outside, right?”
“Yeah. He was drinking. Why doesn’t he get in?”
“He drinks water.” Tokino picks up a cigarette, too. “At this point, there is no longer any difference between water and alcohol for him. He says something runs on the road, and runs past him. He is always waiting for it, just like that.”
“What passes him by?”
“I’m not sure ...” Tokino exhales smoke, and throws a match into the ashtray. “God, maybe.”
“Happy life.” I smile.
“At least, happier than ours.” Tokino utters.
In every town, there are old men who are waiting for something. For some reason, children wait for nothing. Am I waiting for something? No, of course, there is nothing for me to wait for. In short, I am a child. Yes ..., I am a child, literally speaking. I guess I will remain this way forever. I can bet anyone so.
Drinks and a meat pie are brought to the table. The pie is on an oversized, white plastic plate. It is frightfully settled down, as if it has been on the plate since last night. The coffee is slightly lacking in enough intellect and heat, but its bitterness is sufficient. If anything, it is my favorite taste.
While viewing the bottles arranged in the bar counter, I see a familiar face in a mirror nearby. As I do not have any acquaintance in this downtown, I am a little surprised.
The one who is getting inside the diner is Sasakura, the mechanic. He is turning up the collar of a gray jumpsuit, wearing a white cap deep. He is walking toward us while sticking his head out to his front like dinosaurs would do.
“Hey ...” With his hands in the pockets, Sasakura smiles slightly. Also, his expression is looking as if his face is twitching. He is also looking as if he is winking. I wonder if his face is paralyzed. But, it might be just another illusion that I am seeing.
“The condition of the aircraft was good. It was superb.” I tell him. “I was going to thank you, but you were not in the factory.”
“I was sleeping.” Sasakura replies. “There was no drop tank, and the cowling was ... though ...”
I cannot catch the last part of his statement. It is not because the music is too loud. Instead, it has to do with the way he speaks.
“Three cats.” Tokino answers. “Why don’t you take a seat here?”
“Ah, no, thanks. My companion will soon come here.” Without changing his expression, Sasakura declines the offer from Tokino. “How is it going for you?”
“I am waiting for my companion, too.”
“That is not what I meant. I mean, about your engine.” Sasakura gets one of his eyes squinted.
“Oh, well. You mean my engine.”
“On medium speed, did you not feel it was loose?”
“I think it’s so-so.” Tokino answers.
“Loose, or too much choking? Which was it?”
“I’m not sure under today’s weather condition. I will wait and see, to observe how it goes a little more.”
“Please do so.” Sasakura replies. He looks at me. “Are you also waiting for someone?”
“I’m not sure ...” I shrug in an exaggerated fashion on purpose.
“Three cats.” Tokino laughs.
Sasakura walks toward the opposite side of the diner. Because this place is shaped like the letter L (viewed from above), we cannot see the other end over the corner. I wonder slightly what type of person his companion would be. But, I take my attention away from the interest in the subject within two seconds, and look outside. I just want to check out how Sasakura has just gotten to this place. Probably, by motorbike or by car. But, I do not recognize such things in the parking lot. To begin with, I have not heard that sort of sound.
“Decent guy.” Tokino says. Is it how he evaluates Sasakura?
Before I know it, the music has now changed to blues.
-6-
A big sedan is entering the parking lot. The width of its hood is as huge as a living room, and it is decorated with an ornament like a vertical fin on the rear end. It is a stupid and useless design that has no functional purpose. The ones who are getting out of the car are two young women. One is wearing a black short skirt and the other one is in a white, long one-piece dress. Tokino changes his facial expressions when he sees them. So, I understand what is up with this. As expected, after entering the diner, the two women find Tokino, and are approaching us.
“Good evening, Naofumi.” The woman with a black miniskirt greets with both of her hands open in front of her chest. Several silver rings are glittering.
The woman in a white one-piece dress is standing, while she seems to be glaring at me.
“This guy is Kannami, a newcomer.” Tokino introduces me to the ladies.
“How are you, Kannami?” The girl with a black skirt smiles.
“Compared to when?” I reply with the edge of my lips raised a little.
The woman in a black miniskirt is Kusumi. She has long, straight hair and her face reminds me of chocolate. The other woman in a white one-piece dress is Fuko. Her hair is short and pink. She has an owl tattoo on her chest. Her voice is so husky that at first I thought she was catching a cold.
The ladies drink beer. Small green labels are on the bottles. I have never seen or heard of such a brand. When we are about to be done with listening to the third song, Tokino stands up and we are going outside. He seems to have decided to make it on him tonight, and he is paying at the register. Then, he asks me.
“How did you like it?”
“Like what?”
“Meat pie.”
“Oh ...” I nod. “Speaking of which, I have eaten it a long time ago.”
Tokino bursts into laughter. The ladies behind me are also chuckling. They seem to think that I just said a joke. I did not really mean that. I was merely telling them that I really ate a meat pie long time ago and the taste is similar to the one I have just eaten tonight. Things have certain, proper orders to execute. Each time I try to neatly explain things in the correct order, I usually fail. However, meat pies in general are often crushed like defeated boxers. I guess they are irreplaceable. I soon give up on sharing information with them in the early going, and stop recalling various memories. I am not in such a mood tonight.