Salmonella men on Planet Porno: stories - By Yasutaka Tsutsui Page 0,21
soon as we’d sat down, Hatayama started up again. His hawklike eyes had spotted something in the roof of the cockpit, above the front window.
“Look at that!” he exclaimed. “It’s a miniature shrine.”
“So it is.”
“That’s for luck, I suppose.”
“So it is.”
“So that’s why this plane has stayed in one piece so far. Sheer luck!”
“Just shut up.” I glared at him again through narrowed eyes.
Hatayama ducked his head apologetically. “Do you have to get so angry at everything I say? Give me a break, will you?!”
The two farmers finished loading their baskets of beans and farming tools onto the plane. Then Gorohachi’s wife hoisted up the ladder and closed the door.
“Right then, let’s be off!”
She pushed back some loose strands of hair, then parked her sizeable rear on the pilot’s seat – all the while trying to calm the wriggling baby on her back. Once in position, she started fiddling with the switches, throttle lever and other controls, displaying a clumsy, heavy-handed touch. Hatayama and I held our breath as we stared in disbelief. The two farmers behind us, meanwhile, were calmly discussing the price of beans.
The aeroplane slowly started to move. It turned until its tail faced the hut, then started to travel along the runway. The plane shook and creaked noisily, making us jump up in our seats.
“We should have sat further back,” moaned Hatayama.
Not only were there no seat belts, but because we were sitting at the front, there was nothing for us to hold on to either.
“Be quiet! Or I’ll rip your bloody tongue out!” I shouted.
The plane bounced once, then picked up speed. The fuselage shook so violently that it seemed likely to fall apart at any moment. But still it continued to taxi along the runway.
“We can’t get off the ground,” said Hatayama, cowering in terror. “Oh no! We’re not going to make it!”
The runway ended at the top of a cliff looking out to sea. And the end was approaching fast. The plane bounced again, nearly sending us into the roof.
As it flew off the end of the runway, the plane was buffeted by a gust of wind and tilted to one side. We started to plummet towards the sea, the white crests of the waves rushing towards us through the front window. Hatayama let out a feeble cry. “We’re done for,” he whined. “We’re done for. I knew it.”
“Come on, you bugger!” Gorohachi’s wife cursed as she yanked the control stick upwards. The baby cried loudly.
The nose of the plane lifted, and we gradually returned to a more agreeable angle. Then we started to climb, swaying all the while. Hatayama and I both relaxed our shoulders and let out great sighs of relief at the same time.
“Oy, Yoné,” called Sticky Eye. “Is it just me, or were that a bit dangerous back there?”
“A bit’s not the word!” answered Gorohachi’s wife, cackling hysterically. “Normally, you’d have been saying your prayers!”
“Normally we’d have been saying our prayers,” Hatayama repeated to me.
“But I’ve got willpower, see,” she continued. “Not like Gorohachi. So it’s a good job I’m flying today.”
“She says this plane flies on willpower,” Hatayama called over to me in a tearful voice. “Did you hear? Willpower!”
“They’re just making fun of you because you’re such a baby,” I replied.
We were now surrounded by dark clouds. The aeroplane was creaking and shaking again. Drops of water started to drip down, from a join in the aluminium shell of the roof, onto the straw matting on the floor. Hatayama stared at me. Knowing he was about to start again, I pretended not to notice. So he brought his mouth right up to my ear.
“Er, did you know this plane’s leaking. The rain’s coming in,” he whispered.
“What about it.”
“Oh. Nothing.”
Suddenly, the plane took a huge dive.
“Oh no!” Hatayama wailed.
My tightly clenched palms were clammy with perspiration and cold sweat ran down my back.
Outside, a seagull was flying beside the aeroplane next to my window.
“That must be Jonathan Livingston,” Hatayama said loudly. “He’s the only seagull fast enough to keep up with an aeroplane.”
“Bah. It’s not him that’s fast. It’s us that’s slow,” said Gorohachi’s wife. “We’re flying into the wind, see.”
Hatayama was visibly frightened now. “But if we’re going that slow, we could stall, couldn’t we?!”
She laughed. “Ha! I suppose you mean we could do a nosedive. That hasn’t happened at all, recently.”
“You mean it happened before?!” Hatayama ejected a nasal projectile onto the floor.
“What a fantastic trick!” Sticky Eye was impressed again. “How do you do it?”