The Factory Read online

  The closest bathroom was on the ground floor. During lunch, I went up the stairs on the south side. That floor was home to another division, completely unrelated to the Print Services Branch Office. I didn’t see anyone in jumpsuits or aprons. In the bathroom, two women in pink office uniforms were brushing their teeth. They looked at me in my gray rubber apron and nodded in apparent confusion. I headed for one of the stalls and listened to them talking about some barbecue, unable to tell the voices apart. The bathroom was clean and bright. The basement had plenty of fluorescent lights and air purifiers, so it wasn’t exactly dark or stuffy down there. Still, as soon as I came upstairs, I felt like I could suddenly smell the outside air. In the bathroom, sunlight shone through the frosted glass windows. When I left, I saw the exit. So there was a way out on the south side. But looking out the window, all I could see was a parking lot with a few company vehicles. At the edge of the lot was a utility hose and a plastic tub. Not exactly a cheery place. I decided I’d keep using the door on the north side. It was better that way. Beyond the lot, I could see a few unassuming buildings — one, two, or three stories high, with lush green walls. At first, the factory had looked completely gray, but once I stopped to really look at it, I saw trees, flowers, vines, and all this grass. In the past, I’d had some jobs that I could never quite figure out how to do properly, no matter how hard I tried. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to have a job that you can master on the first day. I guess it depends on how you look at it. Feeding paper into a shredder can be peaceful, as long as your machine doesn’t jam or overheat. And even then, all you have to do is switch it off and move over to the next one. Itsumi told me there were always more shredders than employees. “It depends on the day, but there are usually five to ten of us working at the same time. Most work half days or only come once or twice a week. Only four of us are here for the full day. Me, the Captain, and two others, but the Captain’s not here right now, so . . .” I wouldn’t formally meet the other two, Hanzake and the Giant, until the Captain returned.

  “It’s time for a commercial. Let’s go drink.” A week after I started working at the shredder station, the Captain came back. I figured he’d be an older man, but it was still a surprise to see him: he was wrinkly and so frail that it looked as though he might crumble any moment. It’s not like his face was swollen or gaunt or anything. Maybe he wasn’t that sick. “While you were gone, we added a new member to the team. We talked about it before you went to the hospital, remember? We went ahead and made a decision.” “Yes, I heard. A young woman, right?” “She’s already started. Ushiyama-san. Hey, Ushiyama-san, our team captain is back from the hospital. Let me introduce you.” “I’m Samukawa. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “I’m Yoshiko Ushiyama. It’s very nice to meet you.” “Samukawa-san, Ushiyama-san has been an excellent worker,” Goto said, tapping me on the shoulder. Excellent? As if he knows the first thing about me. I gave the Captain a smile. He seemed like a good person, nothing like Goto. “So, from now on, Samukawa-san will be in charge of your schedule . . .” Goto said, then walked back to his seat.

  “Captain! Welcome back. You look amazing.” Itsumi put her shredder on pause and bounced toward us. Lunch was over, and it was going to be a while before TRAN would show up again. But if we didn’t take care of the morning batch before they came, we wouldn’t have anywhere to put the next set. “I appreciate it, Itsumi-san. You know, I feel recharged. Ten years younger, maybe more.” “Yeah, I can see it. Ushiyama-san’s been with us a full week now. She’s still young, but weirdly serious for her age.” “Well, it’s nice to have more young women around. Itsumi-san, you must have felt a little lonely being the only gal on the team.” “Captain! Ushiyama-san, don’t listen to him . . .” It was the first time since I’d started working here that I’d seen anyone in the shredder station actually conversing. Whenever I had questions, Itsumi was always friendly, but we’d never had a real conversation, not like this. They’re always talking at the printing station. Why should things be any different for us? Maybe our team simply doesn’t have anything to talk about. “Has anyone been using the Power Tower?” the Captain asked, looking at the far end of our workstation. “No! You know you’re the only one who knows how to use that thing.” Now Itsumi was looking, too. A piece of exercise equipment had appeared there, out of nowhere. Maybe I’d just never seen it before? A piece of clothing was draped over one of the bars. “So I did leave my jacket here. I thought I lost it somewhere,” the Captain said as he went to claim his jacket, but grabbed hold of the Power Tower while he was over there. “Ushiyama-san, feel free to use this. You better be careful, though. I fell once and got scolded for it.” “No one wants to use it, Captain. Unlike you, we still have our youth! Right, Ushiyama?” The Captain came down from the machine and said hello to everyone else around the station. Everyone smiled sheepishly as they shook hands with him. Even the people I’d never heard speak over the last week were now laughing at his jokes. When he was done making the rounds, the Captain turned back to Itsumi and asked, “Made any commercials lately?” Commercials? Itsumi shook her head. “What, without you?” she said, whipping her ponytail one more time and turning to the short man with the thick neck, who broke into a smile and stroked his chin. “We’d never dream of it. Without you, what’s the point?” The Captain shook the man’s hand one more time, saying, “Come on. We’ve got someone new on the team. It’s time for a commercial. Let’s go drink.” Whipping her ponytail one more time, Itsumi now looked at the tall guy, who melted into a wordless grin. “Okay, let’s make it happen. What’ll it be, Captain? Moo-moo as usual? You in, Ushiyama-san? You like meat?” I didn’t know what commercial was supposed to mean, but I liked the idea of going out for meat, so I nodded. I was sure everybody from the shredder station would go, but it was just me, the Captain, Itsumi, the tall guy, and the thick-necked man. Or — as they were introduced that evening — the Giant and Hanzake.

  “That’s right. Hanzake,” the Captain said, turning to me. We were sitting in the yakiniku restaurant on the way to the station, waiting for our beers. “Also known as the Giant Salamander. Really big amphibian. Ever heard of it?” I glanced at Hanzake, who was wiping his face with a hot towel. He really did look like a salamander. He had a wide face and a large mouth, but his nose was small and his eyes gleamed like tiny marbles. Dabbing at his mouth with his towel, Hanzake broke into a grin. At first, I thought his way of slowly creeping around was a little weird, but once I learned what his name meant I found his movements endearing. The Captain kept going: “They’re called hanzake salamanders because their mouths are so huge it almost looks like their faces are split in half.” And he’s okay with being called that? “Our Hanzake, you know, is amphibian royalty. The Prince of Salamanders,” said the Captain, poking Hanzake in the cheek. Hanzake giggled, then spoke to me. It was the first time we’d exchanged words. “When I was little, there was a nearby river that was full of them. Salamanders. One time, my dad told me that the King of Salamanders came to him with his only son and handed him over. Meaning me. I know it was a joke, but sometimes I can’t help wondering if maybe he was telling the truth. What if I really am a highborn salamander, raised away from the river, in the human world?” Hanzake blinked his beady eyes. “I mean, I don’t look anything like my folks, but people have always told me I look a lot like a giant salamander. Really, I wouldn’t mind, though, if it were true. Being human comes with too many problems. Legs, for instance.” Hanzake kicked out his left leg and stroked his knee. “I’m pretty sure this thing wouldn’t give me any problems if I were scuttling along the river bottom.” Itsumi leaned toward me and said, “Hanzake-san used to work the assembly line, but a huge jack ripped into his leg. For a while, he couldn’t even walk.” I stared at his leg. I’d seen him hobbling around, but I’d assumed it was rheumatism or something. “When was it? It had to be the same year my son Akio was born, so it’s been ten years now. There I was, new father, ready to give my all, then everything went bl
ack. I’m just glad I can work like this now, all thanks to the factory.” “Because of workman’s comp, right?” “Here you are,” the waiter came over, unloading our beers on the table. Now that we had our drinks, everyone grabbed a paper bib and put it on. The bibs said MOO-MOO YAKINIKU and had a cartoon cow on them. The cow was wearing a bib of its own and holding a knife and a fork, its tongue hanging out of its mouth. I’ve always hated paper bibs, but how could I say no when the others looked so happy to put theirs on? The restaurant was maybe seventy percent full and a new group had just come in. They looked young enough to be college students. Itsumi lifted her glass and looked at all of us. The Captain straightened his back and reached for his beer. “Okay. Here’s to the Captain’s glorious return, and to Ushiyama-san joining the team. Cheeers!” “Cheeers!” we said after Itsumi, clinking our glasses. Before long, a big plate full of assorted meats came, with a side of kimchi. “I’m sure you know why we call this guy the Giant, don’t you?” Itsumi asked as she set bits of liver, tongue, and tripe on the grill. Hm, maybe because he’s freakishly tall? What I really wanted to know was, why all the offal? “Giant, how tall are you again? Six-four?” “Yep,” the Giant nodded while reaching over the grill with his chopsticks, anxious to flip the liver that Itsumi had put out only seconds earlier, but she stopped him before he could. “If you touched the liver with those, don’t eat with them, okay? Raw blood will make you sick,” she said. “Would it, though?” the Captain asked. “With his size, I’m sure a little blood wouldn’t do anything.” The Giant grinned and Hanzake laughed. Itsumi and the Captain carried the conversation, while the other two sat there smiling, unless Itsumi asked them something. “Hey, Ushiyama-san, how old do I look?” Itsumi asked as she parceled out pieces of grilled tongue. “Giant, you know this already has salt on it, right?” The Giant was about to pass around the lemon that had come with the tongue, but Itsumi stopped him again. “That touched raw meat, right? Put it back. Here, give it a minute on the grill.” The Giant complied. “So, how old?” Itsumi asked again, waving her hair left and right. Beautifully straight hair. When I first saw her, I was sure she was younger than me, maybe under twenty. But judging from how she talks and how she works, I had to be way off. She had a few gray hairs, too. She’s got to be in her thirties, but I’d better guess low. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Just then, Hanzake and the Giant burst out laughing. “Well, well,” said the Captain. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time. What a commercial!” He raised his glass and tapped it against Itsumi’s. Hanzake and the Giant bumped shoulders and laughed even harder. “Come on, Ushy!” Ushy? “Itsumi-san’s been a good big sister, hasn’t she?” “Yeah, yes.” “Thank you, thank you. But, Captain, I got so much older while you were away. Don’t ever leave us again.” Itsumi stretched her skinny neck to finish her beer and ordered another. Hanzake and the Giant held up their empty glasses to ask for more. “Okay, the liver’s good now. It’s all ready. Hey, Giant, the lemon’s ready.” The Giant grunted and tried to pick the lemon off the grill with his weirdly long fingers, but it must have been too hot, so he picked up his chopsticks and tried again. “Lemon?” he asked me. I shook my head. “Over here, Giant. I bet lemon goes well with liver.” “I bet it doesn’t.” I had a piece of tripe and kept working on my first beer. I never found out how old Itsumi was.

  It was the day before the hunt. Flyers had been sent out to employees with children and posted on bulletin boards all across the factory. Join the hunt with Doctor Moss! An event for parents and children. In the center of the flyer was Aoyama’s drawing of a family of four: a boy in a baseball cap, a girl in a sailor uniform, a father with glasses, and a mother with long hair. If I could draw, even a little, I would have gone with a grade-schooler holding a magnifying glass, on his knees, examining a thick patch of green. Or, I don’t know, maybe the Forest Pantser. As a warning.

  On the south side, I keep my blinds rolled up, but they’re always down on the east side. I keep the windows shut, too. The cleaning facility next door is so close that the buildings almost touch. If I’m really listening, even when the windows are closed, I can hear washers and dryers spinning and irons releasing steam. Besides, even with the windows open, it’s not like I’d get a good breeze. When they told me about the facility next door, I could almost see the entire east wall as a giant iron, scalding hot and hissing. It was a little noisy, of course, but it didn’t really bother me once I got used to it. If anything, I liked the smell of detergent that wafted over during business hours. And it wasn’t a bad place to live. In the south zone, they had a residential lot set up next to the bus depot and the waste disposal plant. In comparison, this was heaven. “Now, about your lab . . .” Goto had me come to the factory two weeks prior to my start date and drove me around in a newish gray car with a factory logo on the side. “I wanted to give you a few options. You’re free to choose, of course, but there’s really only one location I can recommend without reservation. We looked into getting you a lab space in HQ, but honestly it’ll work out best to have you live here in a two-story home where you can use one of the floors as your workspace.” “Live here? At the factory?” “Uh-huh.” Goto pulled out of the parking lot, headed toward the intersection, then slowed to a stop. “You never know who’s watching. Be sure to obey the rules whenever you’re on the premises, especially when you’re driving,” Goto said, turning to look in the mirror. “No one told you that you’d be living here?” “This is the first I’ve heard of it.” “My supervisor said he mentioned it. There must have been some kind of mix-up. The speed limit here is twenty-five, so we can’t go too fast. Then again, we aren’t going far. It’ll just be a minute.” There was a sign with the speed limit on the side of the road. “Legally speaking, this is a prefectural road, you know.” “It is?” “It opens up just ahead, you’ll see. It runs straight through the factory, then keeps on going.” “The factory really has it all, doesn’t it?” “Apartment complexes, supermarkets, a bowling alley, karaoke. All kinds of entertainment, even a fishing center. We have a hotel and more restaurants than you can count. I’m not talking about employee cafeterias, either. You can have soba, steak, ramen, fried chicken, fast food. In the hotel, we’ve got French, Italian, sushi, teppanyaki. We have a post office and a bank, a travel agency, a couple of bookstores, an optometrist, a barber, an electronics store, a gas station . . .” Goto listed places off as if he were singing a song, then he hit the brakes. A crosswalk with no signal. A man carrying a gray suit on a black wire hanger nodded at Goto as he walked across the street. Goto lifted a hand from the wheel to say hello. “We have a museum, too. Most of the work is created by factory artists and employees, but it’s definitely worth a look. Of course we have our own bus and taxi companies, too.” “It’s like a real town.” “It is. Much bigger than your average town, really. We’ve got mountains and forests, a giant river and the ocean. We’ve got our own shrine, with a priest and everything. All we’re missing now is a graveyard. I guess we don’t have a temple, either.” “When did they decide that I’d be living here?” This place was more urban than where I was living with my parents. Their house was in the middle of what used to be a resort town, barely suburban. My university was deep in the mountains, too. This was going to be my first time living in a city. The idea of moving here didn’t bother me, though. It was just happening so quickly and without my input, without my knowledge. “I was under the impression that it was written in the job description that we sent to your school. Okay, here we are.” It looked like a real suburban development, full of tidy two-story homes, identically shaped and built in neat rows. Plenty of space between one house and the next, each with its own garden and two-car garage. Some of the gardens boasted gorgeous flower beds in full bloom. The road was flawlessly paved and there were dogwoods lining the sidewalks. “There are quite a few dog owners around here. We also have a vet, by the way,” Goto said, backing us into a garage and putting the car in park. He got out and I did the same. All the buildings looked
the same, except for the one right next to us. It was an industrial-looking one-story unit that didn’t fit the rest of the block. I could hear mechanical noises coming from inside, and the smell was unlike anything in the neighborhood. In fact, it smelled kind of sweet. “This property just opened up. It’s in good condition. They thought about remodeling the place, but ultimately decided there was no need. Only drawback is,” Goto said looking next door, “things may get a little noisy.” “What is that place?” “Cleaning facility.” “Ah, I see.” Well, I guess that means I won’t have to do my own laundry.