Remote Control

by Kotaro Isaka

  "What's wrong with this?" he asked as Morita marched by another leslauianl.

  ()i

  REMOTE CONTROL

  part of a big chain. They hadn't agreed on a place to eat, hut maybe Morita liad something particular in mind.

  "It's full," he said.

  "How do you know without checking?"

  "1 know."

  "The voice of the forest?"

  "You guessed it."

  "Same old Morita," he murmured.

  "People don't change."

  "I suppose you're right," Aoyagi conceded. "That guy we ran into, Mae-zono, is exhibit A."

  "How so?"

  "Well, he's self-employed and his whole business is regular customers—pick up something at the same time and place every day and deliver it somewhere else at the same time and place. But he's famous for his schedule between jobs—every driver in the business knows where to find him: from 12:30 to 1:30, he's having lunch and then taking a nap under a pedestrian bridge near where 1 live; at 4:00, he's reading magazines at a bookstore out on the highway; at 6:00, he's having dinner, always at the same place. He's always on time, never varies his routine. We used to set our watches by his truck."

  "The joys of the regular life?"

  "Maezono says that getting through his day on schedule gives him a sense of accomplishment, like putting together a model exactly according to the instructions."

  T hey had come to a fast-food place and Morita paused. "This okay?" he said. Aoyagi had no objection—fast food was about right in their case. They went in and ordered at the counter, then climbed to the second floor carrying their trays. The room was empty but they sat at the very back.

  "Still giving these places the professional once-over?" Aoyagi asked.

  "Not really," Morita laughed. "Not anymore." There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

  "1 wonder if the Society for the Study of Adolescent Eating Habits is still in business?" Aoyagi said, giving the full name of the club they had founded during their undergraduate days here in the city.

  THE INCIDENT

  "The Friends of Fast Food?" Morita corrected. "I doubt it. Even in our day, it was only you, me and Higuchi, and Kazu." Morita used their nickname for their friend, Kazuo Ono, who was a year behind the other three in school.

  "1 heard that Kazu went out recruiting after we graduated and rounded up a bunch of new members," Aoyagi said.

  "But 1 don't think it lasted long after that. 1 guess there wasn't really anything very exciting about going around town keeping track of all the new menu items at fast-food places. 1 can see why no one kept it up."

  "How can you say that? You were the driving force behind it."

  "Youthful exuberance," Morita said, folding over a French fry and stuffing it in his mouth. Aoyagi recognized the old habit, and Morita seemed to realize what he'd just done. "1 guess the way we eat never changes either," he said. "What do you think man's greatest strengths are?" he asked suddenly.

  Aoyagi grunted noncommittally and bit into his hamburger.

  "Trust and habit," Morita said.

  "Rust an abbi?" Aoyagi repeated, his mouth full now.

  "You haven't changed either," his friend said, pointing at Aoyagi's lunch. He had eaten around the edges of the bun, leaving the center for last—just the wav he alwavs had.

  y y

  "This isn't much of place, though," said Aoyagi, as he folded the wrapper from his burger. "1 suppose you can't take off points for having an old guy working behind the counter, but he didn't even look up when he took our order. And that's weird, too," he added, |)ointing at the security camera on the ceiling above them. "It's not even aimed at anything."

  "T he place gets a C or a D," Morita said, reviving their old rating system. "And the 'Sj^ecial of the Day'—C at best. Don't think I'm hurrying back for that."

  Aoyagi studied his friend as they talked. He'd let his hair grow since they'd graduated, which suited him, but there were dark circles under his eyes. "You kiKJW," he said, "1 didn't think ycni were in Sendai."

  "Sorry. 1 kitid ot lell out ol touch."

  "When my New Year's cards started coming back, 1 Figured you'd moved. But 1 guess 1 never thought we'd lose track ol each other so soon."

  "There was just a lot ot stulf going on." Morita stirred his drink with his

  straw.

  REMOTE CONTROL

  "What kind of stuff?"

  "You and Haruko breaking up, you saving that girl and getting famous, you ..."

  "Tliat was all my stuff," Aoyagi interrupted. "Was it really my fault?"

  "After that, I was busy working in Tokyo and it was hard to stay in touch. But you could have called me, especially when you and Haruko split up. You must have needed a shoulder to cry on."

  "1 did call," Aoyagi broke in, "but your phone had been disconnected."

  "CTh. 1 guess 1 had a lot going on then, too."

  "Well, I really did call," Aoyagi said.

  "And you really don't give up easily."

  "You just didn't answer." Aoyagi laughed, worried things were getting too heavy. "Are you still working in Tokyo?"

  "I've been at the Sendai branch since last year."

  "I guess I never figured you for the business type." And he certainly didn't look the part, with his hair that long. On the other hand, his friend had always had a way with words that would have been useful in the business world.

  "Turns out Tm not," said Morita. He bent another fry in half.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because I always know how a deal's going to turn out."

  "The voice of the forest?"

  "Naturally. So I always know what the other guy is going to do, whether I can make a sale, whatever—I know everything ahead of time. It's a big advantage, but it kind of takes the fun out of it. You end up just going through the motions. Still, I always did everything exactly by the book. Know why?"

  Aoyagi was about to say no, when the traditional answer to the familiar question popped into his head. "Because you're a pro," he laughed.

  "That's right," nodded Morita. "A pro. I wonder how old Todoroki is, anyway. Still churning out fireworks, you think?" How many times when they'd worked at his factory had they heard Todoroki say he did this or that because he was "a pro"? "And do you suppose his son ever came back to work for him?"

  "Who knows?" said Aoyagi, picturing Todoroki's bearlike face. "But tell me, Mr. Morita, does that voice from the forest really still speak to you?"

  "It really does."

  THE INCIDENT

  'Then why haven't you ever considered a career in gainhling?"

  He was quiet for a moment and Aoyagi thought he suddenly looked older, and a bit sad. "You don't believe in this power of mine," he said at last, "but it got you out of that scrape with the woman on the train."

  Aoyagi groaned, remembering the incident two months earlier. "Now that you mention it, how did you end up there that day?"

  "My powers," said Morita, sounding serious. "I just happened to be on that train, but in another car. T hen, one stop before Sendai Station, it hit me— someone 1 knew was in trouble. So 1 got off and looked around, and there you were—sort of hard to miss, actually, facing off with that half-crazed banshee. And somehow 1 just knew that she was trying to frame you as a groper."

  "You even knew 1 hadn't done it?"

  Morita nodded. "The powers, my friend. But why were you on that train?"

  "Because of a weird phone call," said Aoyagi. The police had called his house that dav to sav that his driver's license had been found on the beach at Matsu-shima. He'd gone to check his wallet and found that it was, in fact, missing.

  "How did it get to Matsushima?" Morita asked with a laugh.

  "How should 1 know?" He had been genuinely puzzled since he hadn't been anwhere near the place in years. "But 1 decided I should go get it." The whole chain of events still seemed improbable.

  "And the groping thing happened on the way back?"

  "You
mean the frame-up."

  "Tm afraid you were guilty the moment the 'victim' grabbed your arm for a citizen's arrest. Try going to the police with her hand on your arm to prove your innocence. T hey would never let up till you confessed."

  "1 see what you mean," said Aoyagi.

  "It didn't matter that she was lying. An accusation is as good as a conviction these days. T hat's why 1 grabbed you and dragged you out of there."

  Aoyagi remembered the sound of the woman's voice crying out on the train. He had ikj idea it had anything to do with him until he turned to look at her. A chill ran straight down his back when she grabbed his arm. "Keep your hands oil me!" she had screamed. 1 le didn't know what she Wiis tiilking about, but he could teel himsell blush and start shaking anyway.

  "There's something a little too nice, too easygoing about you—nuikes |)eoj)le want to take advantage of you," said Morita.

  REMOTE CONTROL

  '"Was she trying to take advantage of me?" Aoyagi could still see the woman's thick makeup as she faced him on the platform. There was something of the hustler about her, but the anger in her eyes had seemed genuine. "Do you think maybe 1 did it?" he asked Morita.

  "Well, did you?" his friend shot back, pointing a French fry at him.

  "No. But in the years since we last met, I might have turned into a major creep. . . ."

  "But that didn't happen," said Morita, without waiting for him to finish. "When we were in school, didn't you always say the one thing you couldn't stand were assholes who felt up women on trains? You were full of the milk of human kindness when it came to snotty teachers, sexist jerks, and those shitheads who forget to return adult movies to the video store—eveii that slasher who killed people behind the station didn't seem to bother you much. But you could never abide a regular old groper. Or did 1 get it wrong?"

  "Well, 1 don't remember about the slasher." Aoyagi forced a smile. He also didn't quite buy the part about adult videos. "My dad couldn't stand guys who did that kind of thing. Maybe I got it from him." He frowned, remembering that his father had once attacked a man who had been caught groping a woman and nearly kicked him to death. "Or maybe I've changed in the last eight years."

  "From a guy who can't stand gropers . . . into a groper yourself? I suppose anything's possible, especially with erratic types like you." Aoyagi couldn't tell whether he was serious or not. "Maybe the shock of breaking up with Haruko turned you against all women, and you started molesting them in your need for revenge."

  "A bit too plausible for comfort," Aoyagi said.

  "By the way," said Morita, changing the subject again, "when I was working in Tokyo I ran into Kazu on the subway. He's the one who told me you two had split up. Shocked the hell out of me."

  "I was pretty shocked myself," said Aoyagi.

  "She dumped you, I suppose."

  "How did you know?"

  "The forest. But I could have guessed aiiyway. And she's married now, with a kid," he added.

  "The forest tell you that, too?" Aoyagi's eyes were open wide.

  "No, 1 ran into her," Morita said. His tone was offhand. "Last year, just

  THE INCIDENT

  after I got back to Sendai, at a department store near the station. She was with her husband and their little girl. And the funny thing is, she's still Haruko Higuchi."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She married a guy named Higuchi."

  "You're kidding."

  "She saw me first," Morita continued. "She came up and introduced me to her husband. He said she talks about the old college days all the time. Seemed like a nice guy to me."

  "I've never met him," said Aoyagi. "I didn't even know his name."

  "Curious?" Morita asked.

  ".About what?"

  "How you stack up against him."

  "No, let's not go there," said Aoyagi.

  "I'd call it a draw." His eyes narrowed. "He has qualities you don't, and you've got some he doesn't. He seemed a bit wide-eyed and clueless, maybe."

  "The type who knows how to share a chocolate bar?"

  "Chocolate bar? Yeah, maybe so. Actually, he reminded me a little of you. . . ."

  "So, did you get me here today just to make fun of my love life?" Aoyagi stuck his lip out, pretending to pout. "It's been six years since Haruko and 1 broke up. It's ancient history."

  "Well, then," Morita said, leaning forward, "how about that Rinka. Did you do it with her?" His tone was neutral but the intentness in his look made Aoyagi wince.

  "Are you serious?"

  "But you were her knight in shining armor, you came to her rescue. Didn't she owe you something? I'm sure ycni got friendly. So, did you do it?" This was the same old .Morita, getting all worked up at the mention of a woman and wanting to know everything in detail. In reality, though, he had been scjmething of a late bloomer himself; shy as anything when left alone with a girl, usually not even getting around to holding hands by the end of a dale.

  "Of course we did it. hots," said Aoyagi, grinning and looking down at his lap. Morita let out a whooj).

  "Seriously?! What's it like, with a showbiz lype?"

  REMOTE CONTROL

  "Can't you tell by looking at her? We went at it all night, and she kept screaming 'I'm dying, I'm dying!"'

  Morita's eyes grew wide. "1 never thought you had it in you!"

  But then Aoyagi hurst out laughing. "It was a computer game," he sputtered. "A martial arts game, and when her guy was on his last legs, she'd scream 'I'm dying!"'

  Morita looked stricken. "You are so fucking boring," he muttered.

  "Nothing happened. She was always busy with TV shows and interviews, but she finally asked me over for dinner to thank me. We played computer games a few times."

  "You were always too serious," Morita said.

  "Some things never change. I was a serious driver, too."

  "But you quit?"

  "I didn't want to make trouble for the company."

  "Seems to me you were their best advertisement."

  "There was some trouble," Aoyagi said, scratching the side of his head.

  Masaharu Aoyagi

  It had started about six months ago. He had been out in his truck making his rounds as usual when his cell phone rang. First it vibrated, then the light came on, and finally the tone—it always felt like having a small animal in his pocket. He thought it might be from one of the houses where he'd just left a "delivery attempted" notice.

  Easing down a narrow, one-way street, he turned left at the intersection and pulled over. Then he took out the phone and answered it.

  "Is this Aoyagi?" a man's voice said.

  "Yes, who is it?" The sudden intrusion of an unfamiliar voice reminded him how it had felt when the whole world—or at least the TV audience—seemed to be watching him: the sick stomach, a tightness in his cheeks. He had truly hated all the attention, his role as "man of the hour." And to make matters worse, the whole thing had happened just as the company was putting

  THE INCIDENT

  all its management systems online, including information about the drivers' routes and work schedules, and even their cell phone numbers. Access had supposedly been limited to employees and the drivers who contracted with the company, but somehow the system had been hacked and Aoyagi's profile became public knowledge.

  Occasionally someone would wait for him along his route or, more often, call his cell phone. They all had something to tell him—ranging from friendly messages of support to accusations that he was a "cocky bastard." Either way, he found dealing with them exhausting, so he was relieved when the TV shows had gradually begun to move on from his story, and the calls had slowed and stopped. It worried him to think that this might be another one after all this time.

  "Who is it?" Aoyagi asked again.

  The man asked a question instead of answering. "How long are you going to keep working?"

  "Until nine or ten o'clock, if I've got something time-sensitive," Aoyagi said without thinking. There was a cold laugh
at the other end of the line.

  "No," the voice said. "1 meant, when are you going to quit your job?"

  "Quit?"

  "If you don't quit soon. I'll be very unhappy. And when I get unhappy, 1 can make lots of trouble." Then the phone went dead. Stunned, Aoyagi had sat staring at the blank display.

  "What the fuck? What kind of threat was that?" Morita stabbed yet another V-shaped fry at him as he spoke.

  "At first I thought it was just a crank call," said Aoyagi.

  "It wasn't?"

  "T hey kept coming. He called to threaten me, then he called the company to tell them to fire me. Still, 1 managed to ignore it until tilings started happening with my deliveries."

  "What things?"

  "Well, tor one, they suddenly increased, a lot."

  "Doesn't sound like a problem—business booming."

  Aoyagi llattened the little box that had held his I'rench hies. "An unbelievable number ot jiackages starting coming to aildresses on my route, all

  REMOTE CONTROL

  with similar handwriting and all from somewhere in Tokyo. But the weird thing was that my name was written in as sender on every one of them."

  "Could have been someone else with the same name," Morita suggested, but he was beginning to frown. "It's possible. But what was in them?"

  "Nothing much—candy, sake—but the people getting them had no idea where they were coming from, and it seemed creepy having my name on them. The company didn't know what to do."

  "I see what you mean. It's a bit too elaborate—and expensive—to write off as a prank."

  "And a bit too scary."

  Morita scratched his head. "Curiouser and curiouser. But it still wasn't worth quitting over."

  "The guy on the phone said that worse things would happen if I didn't quit. Of course, the company reported everything to the police."

  "So, again, you didn't have to quit."

  "No, I suppose not," Aoyagi admitted. Despite the threats, no one had asked him to go, there had been no need to give in.

  "So?"

  "To be honest, I think I'd been looking for the chance to get out."

  "Something of a pattern with you, it seems," said Morita.