Remote Control Page 16

  The sun had set and the sky was fading to a deep indigo. Todoroki's staff had been talking about the weather all afternoon. It was the first clear day in some time, perfect for fireworks. Last year, they remembered, it had rained. Aoyagi and his friends sat a short way off, on the banks of the Hirose River, watching the professionals set up for the Star Festival fireworks display—their "VIP seats" a reward for having shoveled snow at the factory all winter.

  "Hey Rocky! We may be VIPs, but this isn't exactly a 'seat,'" Morita had pointed out. Everyone at the factory called the boss "Rocky"—short for Todo-roki. They had found it hard to use the nickname at first, but as winter changed to spring and they became regulars, they had taken to calling him "Rockv," too.

  "So there's no law that says how far away you have to keep people from the fireworks?" Haruko said.

  "No, some places have ordinances that fix the distance, but they're inconsistent and pretty confusing. The truth is, if you're a hundred meters away and someone gets hurt, that's not a safe distance—no matter what the law says. But we're pros," he added. "We don't have accidents. That's why they let us work right here in the middle of Sendai." Aoyagi thought it would be nice to be able to say you're a pro at something and mean it.

  The launch mortars had been set uj:) on the riverhank, wired in separate groups for each element in the show. Todoroki's men had just finished attaching all the fuses and doing the final tests.

  "1 thought you just tossed a match into the tube and ran like hell," said .Morita.

  It had surprised them to learn that everything was controlled by computer, that a laptop ccmld manage all the timing and the ignitions, hut it was even harder t(j believe that middle-aged, do-it-yourselt Rocky wouki rely on a keylxjard and processors tor his big show.

  "You really kiujw what you're doing?" Morita had asked him, pointing at the tent where the fuse wires converged on his laptoj).

  "Ol course—we're pros," Todoroki said again. "In the old days, when Fireworks were tancy toys fijr warlords, no one worried much about elliciency.

  REMOTE CONTROL

  but it's a business now—digital-age rocketry—and we know exactly what we're doing." He tapped clumsily at an imaginary keyboard.

  "You could blow up the whole city typing like that," Kazu laughed.

  "No worse than Aoyagi pressing the button on the elevator. Have you noticed?" Haruko said, as though the subject had reminded her of a joke she'd been meaning to tell. When she had their attention, she held her thumb straight up. They stared at her for a moment.

  "You're right!" Morita said. "He does. Like he's giving you the thumbs up. It's sort of weird."

  "There's nothing weird about it," said Aoyagi. "My mom and dad do it."

  "Sorry, definitely weird."

  "No, not normal!" Todoroki nodded emphatically.

  "You sure?" Aoyagi said, sticking out his thumb. "Okay. I'll try it your way."

  "But you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

  "You can. People can change," Aoyagi insisted.

  "Not you," Haruko laughed. "What about the way you leave rice in your bowl?"

  "Rice?" he murmured, growing flustered.

  "He does! He does!" Morita said, his head bobbing again. "I've never met a grown man who couldn't clean his rice bowl." It was true. Aoyagi wasn't particularly conscious of it, but now that they mentioned it he realized he did have a habit of leaving bits of rice clinging to his bowl. This, too, had never struck him as strange—though he knew most people ate more neatly—it was just the way he was raised. Morita pressed home the point. "You must have grown up rich to leave that much rice."

  "It's cruel, like genocide, to finish up every last grain," Aoyagi murmured. His father had once said something like this to him when he was young, and it had impressed him. But as he said it now, it sounded like nonsense. "At least, that's what my dad used to say."

  "Your old man's weird, too."

  "Maybe so," he allowed.

  "But it seems a bit boring to shoot them off with a computer," said Haruko.

  "Not at all," Todoroki explained. "The fireworks themselves are completely

  THE INCIDENT

  handmade, down to the last detail. We're artists. So who cares who lights the fuse? You can use a computer—you could even rig a cell phone to set off the whole show." He wriggled his fingers again, this time as if dialing a phone.

  "Hope you don't get a wrong number," said Morita, dialing, too.

  To Aoyagi, a cell phone was going too far—cheapening something so spectacular. But he took some comfort in the fact that these signs of change didn't seem to faze Rocky, the consummate pro, for whom the magic of fireworks never changed.

  The last light faded from the sky, and the noise from the crowd gathering on the bridge above them grew louder. They were no doubt as anxious as Aoyagi for the show to begin. Next to him, Haruko sat with her head thrown back, supporting herself with her arms stretched out behind. "Tm going to get a stiff neck if they go straight up," she said. Aoyagi grunted. "But it's incredible to see them from so close."

  "Oh, 1 forgot to mention," said Todoroki. "Don't leave as soon as it's over. You've got to help clean up."

  "'You' meaning who?" said Morita.

  "All of vou, of course."

  "You might have said something a bit sooner," he grumbled. He didn't sound too upset. "By the way. Rocky. Does your son plan to take over the business at some point?" T hey had heard that his only son, who looked exactly like him, had graduated from college a few years back and was working for a company in Aomori.

  lodoroki frowned. " The prodigal son," he said. "It's possible."

  "Did he really get the police after him for shooting off fireworks in school?" Aoyagi asked. They had heard the story from several people at the factory. Rocky nodded and frowned again.

  "1 let him hang ar(jund when he was a little kid. He hatl a real knack for the l)usiness." It wasn't clear whether he was proud of the fact or not. "But lie's a rebel, and reckless. So he's not cut out lor a delicate job like this."

  "It you can do it, he can do it," Morita teased.

  "1 hen 1 imagine he'll show u|) one ol these days to take over." His tone suggested the subject was closed. "But you know," he added in passing, "ii fireworks disjilay isn't about si/e." They looked at him, i(,*atly lor the next pronouncement troin their jiyrotechnic guru. "1 )illerent towns have dillerent

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  budgets, different ideas about what they want. But what really matters in the end isn't how grand a show is—it's about the hometown girls who got married and moved away coming home in the summer to visit, to show off their children to the grandparents, and the whole family coming out to watch. That's the same everywhere. All sorts of people getting together outside on a warm evening and looking up at the sky. Everybody sighs and says how pretty they are, how exciting. And then they get up the next morning and go hack to work, promising themselves they'll be sure to go again next year. That's what 1 love about this job." They stared wide-eyed at so much sentimental stuff. But he soldiered on. "And I'll tell you something else I like about it. Thousands of people watch the same fireworks at the same time; and who knows, maybe an old friend you haven't seen in years could he among them. You might even start thinking about the same thing at the same time, maybe something that reminds you of this friend."

  "That reminds me," Morita giggled, "never to ask a pyrotechnologist for his thoughts on life!" His hand shot up and he made a swishing noise, like a rocket. As the others joined in, Todoroki turned with a smile and headed off to make his final preparations.

  The fireworks were even better than they had imagined—and a very different experience from watching them on a roof miles away. From a distance, the Star Festival show had been visually spectacular, but up close you experienced it with your whole body. The boom shook you to the core. A streak straight up into the sky. An explosion. Brilliant light. Sparkling flashes floating to earth. Fading in the night. Darkness. And again. There wa
s nothing to do but look up, mouth open.

  Aoyagi felt each explosion in his belly. Then, an instant later, an enormous flower bloomed in the sky, only to dissolve in a shower of sparks that made the most delicious crackling before they fizzled out. One after the other, the rockets streaked up, forming layers of blossoms as their screams rained down on the four of them below. They knew it was just a fireworks show, but somehow the power and immediacy made it seem like the explosion of countless man-made stars.

  T hen they stopped, at least for a moment: a brief pause to allow the breeze to carry off some of the smoke that filled the air. Aoyagi used the time to look

  THE INCIDENT

  down at the technicians from Rocky's factory who were hard at work right in front of him. Their faces were lit up like schoolboys on a field trip. In the primitive thrill of fire, any weariness, any troubles they felt had been swept away. And there was Todoroki in his T-shirt. He glanced over at them and grinned, holding up two fingers, the sign of victory.

  "Unbelievable!" Morita hissed.

  Aoyagi looked at Haruko sitting next to him. Her eyes were still fixed on the sky, as if staring at an afterimage. "Haruko," he said, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear. She turned to look at him, and he wanted to go on, but no words came. He'd spent the last few days picturing this moment and rehearsing what he planned to say—to no avail.

  "What?" she said.

  "There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now." He could feel the tension in his face, his jaw start to tremble. "Do you want to go with me?"

  Her expression clouded over for a moment, and Aoyagi felt as though he was flaming out like a defective rocket. He wished he could take hack what he'd just said.

  "Go with you where?" she said, looking doubtful. "To the bathroom?"

  "Not that kind of 'go,'" he said, his frown growing deeper. An explosion shook him then. T he show had started again. A giant star was horn overhead, dissolving just as quickly in a chorus of crackles. Haruko looked hack at the sky, and he decided he should give it one more try. He was about to say her name again when she suddenly laughed out loud.

  "It took you long enough to ask," she giggled.

  Haruko iligiichi

  A j)ale streak ot light lingered in the sky even alter it hail started to driz/le, so Haruko had thought it would stop soon it they could just |)ut u|) with it lor a hit. But it hadn't stopj)ed and the day had gradually daiketu-d until it was hard to tell whether night hijii fallen—at which point the skies opened up

  REMOTE CONTROL

  and the drizzle became a downpour. Caught without an umbrella, she let out a little groan and looked around for shelter.

  T here was nothing. The buildings along the street didn't even have eaves. She wanted to speak to Aoyagi, but the pelting raindrops washed away her voice. He scratched his head and looked at his watch. "Still got an hour till our reservation," he said.

  "What are we supposed to do? Swim there?" She put her hand to her head and felt that it was already soaked.

  "This is what we get for picking such a fancy place. It was way out of our league to begin with."

  "But it's our anniversary," she said.

  Aoyagi had been less than enthusiastic from the moment she proposed they celebrate their three-month anniversary. "I can see the poirit after a year together, or even six months, but isn't this a bit soon? Besides, I've never done anything like this before."

  "Neither have I," Haruko had admitted. "But you take a car in for its first checkup after a month; so we can thiiik of this as a three-month inspection rather than an anniversary." In fact, she was just looking for an excuse to go to a famous French restaurant that had opened a branch in Sendai.

  "Of course!" she heard him say now through the rain.

  "What?"

  "I just remembered," he said, smiling as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. He turned a corner into a larger street that ran toward the campus. It was raining even harder now, as though a waterfall had descended over the city. The street was filling and the wipers of the cars driving past worked so frantically they seemed about to fly off.

  Aoyagi turned off the street into an overgrown vacant lot. A road had run through it at some point, but it had long since been abandoned to the thick undergrowth. He pushed his way into the weeds, and Haruko followed, unable to stop him to ask where they were going. Mud kicked up behind them as they ran.

  At last he pointed into a clump of grass that was nearly as tall as Haruko. They plunged in, but it wasn't until they were almost on top of it that she realized he had been heading for a car—a yellow sedan hidden in the weeds. T he rain clattered on the hood.

  THE INCIDENT

  "Get in," he said, circling around to the driver's side.

  "How?"

  "I'll unlock it." He bent down and reached under the car, then straightened up. Hearing the locks pop open, she pulled at the door and climbed in. "Nice weather we're having," he said, gazing out at the rain through the windshield.

  "Whose car is this?" she said.

  "Beats me." He rubbed his head, sending drops flying everywhere. Then he reached into the back seat and produced a towel. "For you."

  "And whose is this?"

  "Beats me," he laughed, then sniffed at it carefully. "Seems clean enough."

  "Yuck!" she snorted.

  "You'll catch a cold," he said. It was warm for November, but not warm enough to sit around soaking wet. "Anyw^ay, 1 think it's Kazu's, so I doubt you'll catch anything fatal."

  "Is this his car?"

  "No, not his," Aoyagi said as he inserted the key and turned the ignition. Nothing happened. "Vlust be the battery," he muttered.

  Ever so carefully, Haruko began drying her hair with the towel. She was reluctant to use it, given the questionable provenance, but she was even more reluctant to catch a cold. When it was almost dry, she leaned back, feeling the cold of the seat through her jacket. "How did you know this was here?" she asked him.

  He looked a bit sheepish. "Rumors, probably. Everybody knows about it. Some guy must have abandoned it here rather than pay to get rid of it."

  "And the key?"

  "In the wheel well."

  Haruko studied him for a moment with raised eyebrows and then turned to look out the window. T he rain was {bounding so hard she wondered if it would dent the r(jof.

  "Anyway, it seems like a good j)lace to wait," she conceded.

  "I'm glad y(ju think so. An umbrella wouldn't do much good in this, even it we had one. 1 just wish we could get it running, lor the heater."

  "It would run it you got a new battery."

  "You think so?" Still staring out at the rain, he began humming cheeiTully to himselt.

  "What's that?" she asked.

  REMOTE CONTROL

  "The theme song for our little yellow car," he said, repeating the tune a few times. Haruko almost wanted to join in.

  What had seemed like a passing shower had long since exceeded the label, and it was pelting down.

  "It won't be easy to get to the restaurant. Do you want to cancel?" she asked.

  "Me? No, why do you ask?" He tried to sound shocked.

  "Well, haute cuisine isn't exactly your style."

  "Since 1 can't even clean my bowl, you mean?"

  "You said it."

  "But I'm a reformed man," he said. "I even read a book on etiquette, just for tonight." He mimed using a series of knives and forks, beginning at the outside. "On the other hand," he said, glancing out the window and checking his watch, "it's pretty bad out there. Let's give it a few more minutes. If it looks like we can't make the reservation, we'll call them."

  "They'll understand if we're late, with the weather like this."

  "But will they even let us in if we're soaked to the skin?" he said, looking down at his jacket. Then he looked at her. "I hate to mention it," he said, "but your unmentionables are worthy of mention."

  Flustered, she looked down at her shirt. Her bra was visi
ble where the material was dampest, but it was hardly indecent. "You think so?" she said. "Perhaps that's because you've got your eyes in the gutter."

  "Touche," he said.

  "C^h!" she crowed suddenly. "1 just remembered."

  "What?"

  "Something Kazu said when we were sitting around in the cafeteria. About how he never had to worry if he didn't have the money to get a room. He had a 'free love hotel.'"

  "He said that?"

  "He was talking about this car! He meant you could bring someone here— this is the hotel!"

  Aoyagi turned beet red. "You could be right. 1 think Kazu may have brought girls here. But I'm not, 1 never... 1 haven't."

  Haruko had settled back triumphantly but then sat up again. "Do you think that towel . . . ?" She was almost gagging.

  THE INCIDENT

  "No, no. I'm sure it's new, probably just for wiping the seat. Kazu said he would leave a clean one for the next guy."

  "Next guy?!" she nearly screamed. "God, you're all vile!" She pushed her hand against the window. "CDpen this, I can't breathe."

  "You'll get soaked," he said.

  "I don't care! I'm sitting on the bed in a low-rent love hotel!"

  "At least it's dry," he murmured.

  "Now 1 remember," she said, punching futilely at the window button. "Kazu told you to be sure to use it, too. 'You should try it out, Mr. Aoyagi,' he said."

  "He did? But 1 never did!"

  "No? But Kazu always adds that 'Mr.' for you and Morita when he wants to get your attention. It's his way of showing respect for you as upperclassmen. But he only uses it when the situation calls for it. Do you remember that time we were in the cafeteria and Morita was bad-mouthing that professor?"

  "Isn't he always bad-mouthing a professor?"

  "This time, though, the guy was sitting almost next to us, hut Morita didn't know it and he kept going on about how terrible he was. So Kazu started saying 'Mr. Morita . . . uh, Mr. Morita.'" Morita had frowned at him, but then started in about the guy's taste in ties, how he'd actually worn one with an octopus pattern on it. So then, of course, the rest of them couldn't help looking over at their neighbor; and there they were, hanging down in front of him—a line of bright pink octopi. Everybody hurst out laughing.