The Before Short Story Series. Part 1 - Иван Перепелятник
Having made a pause, Keirou continued, ‘This story was told to me by my father—your grandfather. Did you get it, Ayaka, what it was that Mr Fuji did?’
‘I got it, Daddy! he settled in our volcano. Now I know why you are working in the park—you are guarding Mr Fuji, so that his wisdom wouldn’t get lost.’
‘Very well, daughter. It is important to remember that we choose our life course for outselves—what and when we should do, where and with whom we should live, how we can benefit our society, our country the most. Remember, Ayaka, that your life too is a vessel. Just as Mr Fuji’s, it can be filled with knowledge for everyone’s sake. Or else we can live our life in vain, scattering only rubbish on our way.’
‘Yes, Daddy. But there was one thing I didn’t get: why was it that the barbarians didn’t believe Mr Fuji’s words? why, Daddy?’
‘Ayaka, many times people don’t see the most important things they already have in their hands. Often we think that the truth is too difficult, and only having learnt it—having uncovered this great secret—do we realize what it really takes to be happy.
The blue truck drove up to the Fuji–Hakone–Izu National Park main building, surrounded by crowds of tourists—apparently, they had just got off the long row of buses parked nearby. Sun covers above the main building entrance—which harboured a Mt Fuji history museum, some lecture halls, a forestry service, a medical section, and the park administration—made the hot a little more bearable, but it was still very notable. Even the leaves on nearby trees got dimmer, losing a bit of their juicy shine.
‘You know, Ayaka,’ Keirou said to his daughter, ‘you should probably rather study at home today. Look how many visitors there are here today. I guess I will have quite a restless day.’
Keirou was critically examining the tens of people crowded by the central entrance to the National Park. The tourists wanted to get to one of the observation decks on a side of the volcano as soon as possible—and for a reason, as it was likely to be much cooler there.
‘If you go with me, Ayaka-chan, I will be constantly distracted, I will be worrying about you, and so I might miss something important. It won’t be good, will it? so we have a deal, Ayaka, right?’
‘Right, Daddy,’ said Ayaka, barely holding her tears.
Keirou approached the rear passenger door, where Ayaka was sitting to check the safety belts in her child safety seat.
‘Oh, and Mummy hasn’t got your tights off either… this way you will surely overheat here,’ he hugged his daughter’s shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.
‘Shin, would you please bring Ayaka back home and get back here?’ Keirou gave an order to his digital assistant. ‘Tell Hiromi to meet Ayaka near the house and to see her in. When you come back, please park on the staff parking lot. Did you get all of it, Shin?’
‘Sure indeed, Keirou. I will bring Ayaka back home and come back to the National Park main building,’ Shin confirmed receiving the task.
‘Ayaka, everything all right?’
‘Yes, Daddy. It’s only that I want to go with you!’
‘Sorry Ayaka-chan, but not today. Next time, I promise.’
Keirou saw the slowly accelerating blue car leave. The bare peak of Mt Fuji was visible through the leaf cover. ‘Even the snow cap can’t bear this heat, it all melt.’ Making a deep breath of heavy hot air, Keirou walked to the staff entrance.
Ozzie
‘Good Lord! My God! Is there anything at all that you can do normally?! Look at the hole you’ve left here! wow, this block is really worth nothing now. Throw this away immediately! just what kind of work is this, I wonder… that’s no work! that’s some half-assed junk, for all I can say! 100% pure shit, nothing more!’ Jordan got hold of the keyboard and, banged it loudly on the table with anger. A number of keys got loose and flew into his face. ‘Whoa, damn it! damn morons!… get out everyone! everyone out of here! Out no-ow! I am saying, GET OUT YOU DAMN MORONS! I-DI-OTS!’
Lizzie got up from her table, tears in her eyes, picked up her bag, her phone, and went to the exit. Everyone else—not