Pain,Pain,Go Away

006

Chapter 6: Pain, Pain, Go Away

The cirrus clouds that covered the sky were like the wings of a giant dove.

Crossing an arch bridge over a huge river made dark and muddy by last night's rain, we went down a small path along a paddy field peacefully twinkling a golden yellow.

Only a few minutes after merging back into the main road, a small town came into sight. Familiar chain stores were aligned in a familiar order, as if placed there by a stamp.

We stopped the car in the parking lot of a tiny bakery and got out to take a big stretch. The autumn wind blew in and tickled my nose with a sharp smell.

Getting out of the passenger's seat, the girl's black hair fluttered up, revealing an old scar about five centimeters long from the corner of her left eye down.

It was a deep, straight wound, as if cut with a razor. She casually covered it with her hand to keep me from seeing it.

She didn't offer any explanation, but I had little doubt it was inflicted by the man who would be her third victim.

A wound on her palm, burns on her arm and back, a slice on her thigh, a cut on her face. They're all over her, I thought.

I almost wondered if it was something about her that caused others to be so violent. Even between domestic violence and bullying, the sheer number of injuries seemed odd.

Like a certain shape of rock makes you want to kick it, like a certain

shape of icicle makes you want to crack it off from its root, like certain kinds of petals make you want to pluck them off one by one... There exist things in the world that, regardless of how cruel it is, you just feel like destroying.

Maybe it was the same way with this girl, I considered. It could even explain my sudden impulse to attack her last night.

But I shook my head. That's just the selfish reasoning of an aggressor. A notion that put the greatest blame on her. That couldn't have been right.

No matter what properties she had about her, it was no reason to hurt her.

We bought a fresh cheese croissant, an apple pie, a tomato sandwich, and coffee for us both, then ate in silence on the terrace. A few birds circled around our feet due to the breadcrumbs we were dropping. Across the road, children were playing soccer on the playground. A large tree in the center cast a long shadow on the not-so-green lawn.

A man in his forties wearing a gray cap came out of the store and smiled at us. He had short hair, a chiseled face, and a neatly- trimmed mustache. The badge on his chest said "Owner."

"Want a coffee refill?"

We agreed, and the owner filled our drinks with a coffee server.

"Where'd you come from?", he inquired kindly. I told him the name of the town.

"Why, that's quite a ways, isn't it? ...Then you must be here to see

the costume parade, I'll bet? Oh, or are you taking part?" "Costume parade?", I repeated back at him. "Is there a thing like that here?"

"Ah, so you didn't even know? Lucky you. It's really a sight to see. A must-see, in fact! Hundreds of people dressed in costumes march down the shopping district."

"Oh, so it's a Halloween parade?", I realized, seeing the Atlantic Giant - a giant pumpkin - in the corner of the plaza.

"That's right. The event only started three or four years ago, but it's gotten more popular every year. I'm surprised so many people like costumes, myself. Maybe everybody has a desire to change into something else that they don't show. After long enough, you get fed up with being yourself all the time. Who knows, maybe there's all those people in grotesque costumes 'cause they've got destructive tendencies. ...Honestly, I'd like to take part myself sometime, but I just can't take the plunge."