Shindo didn’t reply. With an intriguing smile, he tossed his cigarette, now mostly filter, into the empty coffee can and lit a new one. As if to say, “think about it some.” I pondered his words. But as much as I scoured my brain, I couldn’t come to a conclusion worth calling a conclusion. If he was just pointing out my destructive tendencies, there was no need to ask it like that. He was trying to get me to notice something. With that dreamlike lack of consistency, I was no longer in an arcade. I stood at the entrance to an amusement park. Behind the stands and ticket booths, a merry-go-round, and a revolving swing, I could see such attractions as a giant Ferris wheel, a pendulum ride, and a roller coaster. There was noise from the attractions all around me, and shrill voices yelling. Large speakers around the park played infinitely cheery big band music, and I heard the sound of an old photoplayer among the attractions. It didn’t seem I had come there alone. Someone was there holding my left hand. Even in my dreamy state, I found it odd. I’d never once gone to an amusement park with someone. ---------- I sensed a light beneath my eyelids. When I opened them, I found the rain had stopped, and the deep blue of night and the orange of morning were mixing near the horizon. “Good morning, murderer,” the girl chirped, having woken up before me. “Do you think you can drive now?” Illuminated by the sunrise, her eyes showed traces of having been cried out. “Maybe,” I answered. ---------- My fear of driving seemed only temporary after all. My hands on the wheel