It takes 6 months for washer lizards to reach adulthood. Around the time they reach 3 inches in length, they begin to breed. During this period, the males appear their most reddish. The male approaches the female, with his tail high in the air, and attempts to mount her. If the female refuses, she scampers off. If she remains, they copulate. Afterward, the female lizard searches for a machine where she can lay her eggs. When she finds a good spot, she lays her eggs, then promptly returns to her former nest and continues her normal routine. The female washer lizard may lay as many as 50 eggs in her lifetime. Of course, in reality, the average figure is far lower. Not every lizard can expect this much from life.
The washer lizard has a maximum lifespan of three years. A lizard that survives this long has been extremely fortunate. Should it make it to old age, its 3-inch body may shrink. It will breathe its last without ever straying far from its birthplace, probably dying behind the machine where it nested or maybe inside the lint trap. When the facilities are cleaned, the bodies of washer lizards are discovered in great numbers. Because the machines have not been moved out of the facilities since they were first installed, it seems reasonable to believe that there is an even greater number of lizard bodies hidden under the machines — I was unable to confirm this, however, during the course of my investigation.
Chapter Three: Factory Shag
What is the Factory Shag?
Classification: A member of the order Pelecaniformes, related to the cormorant.
Size: The body is 30 to 35 inches long, making it rather large compared to other shags.
Color and Shape: The factory shag has a long neck and a prominent crest, but its most striking characteristic is the color of its body. Its head, wings, beak, and legs are entirely black. If you were to pluck out its feathers, you would find black skin underneath. The only part of the bird that is not black is the white of its eyes.
Other Features: Factory shags have feathered wings like other birds, and can fly as far as 65 feet, typically hovering just above the river, but they do not appear to be capable of flying long distances. Shags are aquatic birds. They can swim and dive for fish. While they make their home at the mouth of the factory’s river, they will not venture into the ocean.
Diet of the Factory Shag: The factory shag consumes fish and food waste. It resides where ocean water and freshwater come into contact, and has plenty of fish to choose from. The shag resembles the cormorants used for fishing. It swallows fish whole. Because of this, its tongue is very small. If you open the bird’s mouth, you may not even see it. The inside of its mouth is not black, but pink. The shag eats rice, vegetable scraps, and other food that flows into the river through the factory’s drains. Whatever it eats, it swallows whole. This is obvious from the shape of its neck.
Habitat of the Factory Shag: In general, cormorants and shags tend to group together in colonies. The factory shag is no different in this regard. Since this bird exclusively lives where the river meets the ocean, there is only one very large flock. The birds congregate and sleep in one spot, huddled by the shore. They dive into the water to find food, never leaving the immediate area. They appear to have no problem staying in the water all day long. When the sun is shining, the birds spread their wings and soak it in. It’s almost as though they’re drying their feathers out, but on days with relatively little sun the birds seem equally happy to remain wet. These birds are different from river and ocean cormorants found elsewhere. While they clearly share a number of traits and characteristics (such as living in groups or swallowing their food whole), there are several stark differences. Among these are nesting habits. While similar birds make their nests in trees (river cormorants) or on cliffs (ocean cormorants), factory shags don’t seem to nest at all. They spend their whole lives in the same stretch of the river, living as one large group, never pairing off. Under no circumstances do they voluntarily leave the flock.
Life of the Factory Shag: Over the course of my observation, I have never seen any factory shag eggs or chicks. When river cormorant chicks hatch, they are featherless. Their black wings develop over time. Parents feed fish to their chicks from mouth to mouth. One might expect that these birds lay their eggs somewhere during the winter. But I have watched the flock closely, even in the winter, and have not yet found anything to suggest that this is the case. All of the birds in the flock are adults, roughly the same size. They are constantly pushing and shoving, but do not appear to communicate. In addition to finding no young, I have yet to find the carcass of a factory shag.
Where Did The Birds Come From? Where Are They Going? I have seen workers come to capture factory shags on occasion. I do not know what purpose this serves. After some time, the workers will return the birds to the ocean. Once they are tossed into the water, the shags appear to swim back to the flock or sink and die. I have not found a body, but it is very difficult to imagine that all shags released have survived this ordeal. The birds that return are skinnier, with significantly less body fat, and can be identified as a result. Once they rejoin the group, however, these shags quickly return to the standard weight and shape, making it once again impossible to tell them apart from the rest. Among the flock, there must always be at least several birds that have been caught and subsequently released by factory personnel.
“But you know what I mean, right? How she talks. It’s dark. Dark, or, what — closed off?” “Well, if she were more outgoing, she wouldn’t be a 26-year-old contract worker, would she?” “I don’t know. These days, it’s not uncommon for young women to get into temp work. Lots of them are really hardworking, serious girls, too. There are only so many jobs out there, right? That’s not what I mean, though. It’s the way she talks. She can’t communicate. If you don’t make her talk, if you don’t ask direct questions, she won’t say anything. If you don’t talk about something she wants to talk about, she’ll just sit there. But as soon as you mention something that interests her, she starts going a million words a minute and doesn’t even give you time to respond. That’s not a conversation. I’ve always heard that young people are bad at communicating, but this is something else. If you’re that closed off, there’s no way you could pass an interview.” “Yeah, maybe.” “Some people are just quiet. They’re not talkers. And that’s fine. Your sister, though, once she gets going, you can’t get her to shut up. She doesn’t listen to anything anyone else says, but if you stop listening to her, she’ll get all bent out of shape and go quiet again. All she does is complain. It’d be different if she wanted to tell you about her hobbies or her interests or something, but she’s always so negative. How are you even supposed to respond to that? And she’s frowning all the time, I really can’t stand it. Sorry, I know I’m supposed to be a professional.” A professional what? “It’s fine. We’re not really that close.” “I don’t know, you looked pretty close when we met. Sorry, are you mad at me? You are, aren’t you?” “I’m not.” “I’m sorry. Sorry, but, yeah, that’s what I honestly thought. It’s good she has a job now. If she messes this one up, I guess she could register with us, but I’m not so confident that I could place her somewhere.” “No, she’s fine. I actually think this job’s a good fit for her. She doesn’t have to talk and it’s full-time, even if the pay isn’t great . . . Hey, I didn’t realize you were interviewing her.” “Occupational hazard.” Listening to my brother and his girlfriend talk in an American coffee shop inside the factory, I learned that my brother had lost his job in computers and was working as a temp for his girlfriend’s agency. They couldn’t see me, but from where I was sitting, hidden behind a potted snake plant, I had a decent view of her. Her hair was shorter now. My brother had his back to me, but I could tell he was wearing the gray shirt I’d ironed for him the night before. I’d ordered coffee with whipped cream, but by the time I tried to take a sip, the cream had already melted, and I was left with a normal bitter cafe au lait. I thought about sweetening it, but didn’t know where to find the sugar. I didn’t want to get up
and make a fool of myself. Not again. After I’d placed my order, I stood in the wrong place. It was mortifying. “Miss, could I ask you to wait over here?” “The job’s okay, I think. I’m getting the hang of it, but I don’t know how to tell my sister. I mean, contract work is better than temp work, right?” “There’s no better or worse. You’re making good money and you’re bound to get a raise at some point. You just have to stick with it. All the girls we placed here said they got a lot out of it. That’s why I wanted you here.” “I appreciate it. It’s just a completely different field.” “You’ll get used to it. Try to keep an open mind. One step at a time.” She was drinking something hot out of a ceramic cup. I already knew what my brother was drinking, even though I couldn’t see it — it was an iced coffee. He lives on iced coffee. If it’s on the menu, that’s what he gets. Why did she get a real cup? My drink came in some stupid paper cup. She put the cup down on her saucer with a clank. Then she picked up a small fork and stabbed into what appeared to be a slice of cheesecake. They serve dessert here? Maybe she ordered it off some special menu. I never come to cafés like this. They make me nervous. But I have a right to be here. My brother was stirring the ice in his glass. “It takes way more out of me than working with computers. I can’t stay focused. It kills my eyes, too.” “Are you kidding? It’s got to be easier on your eyes than staring at a screen all day.” What kind of work is he doing? It has to be something at the factory. Why else would they be meeting here? I felt bad for him, starting over at thirty, in something apparently unrelated to computers. He should have told me. He should have told me he was working here. I’m sure he didn’t know what to say. I’m sure he was embarrassed. But I’m his sister. We live together. How did he think I was going to react? That night, he didn’t come home. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about that, not really, but I felt terrible. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted her to die. I wanted them to break up. I replayed in my head all the things she said to him about me, about his little sister. Who the hell does that? Someone so hopelessly imbecilic should do everyone a favor and just die. What the hell is wrong with the world? To think that a first-rate idiot like that can be gainfully employed, while me and my brother, good and humble citizens, are disenfranchised, unable to find permanent work. I curled up in a ball and whispered die, die, die until I finally fell asleep. In the morning, I could barely wake up. I wasn’t ready for work. I wasn’t ready for the world. I was hoping for a natural disaster, but it was a beautiful day. I forced myself out of bed and went to work.
My head wasn’t in it. Even if it wasn’t, so what? My job couldn’t be any simpler. (Thinking about it, it’s really insane that the factory pays me as much as they do. Why not automate the process?) The more my thoughts wander the harder it gets — everything feels so disconnected. Me and my work, me and the factory, me and society. There’s always something in the way. It’s like we’re touching, but we’re not. What am I doing here? I’ve been living on this planet for more than twenty years, and I still can’t talk properly, can’t do anything that a machine can’t do better. I’m not even operating the shredder. I’m only assisting it. I guess I’m working, but it actually feels like I’m getting paid money I don’t deserve, like I’m surviving on money I haven’t earned. It didn’t feel like time was moving, but the clock on the wall said I’d been at work for three hours. Just then, Goto snuck up behind me. “Hey, Ushiyama-san, you haven’t used any vacation time since you got here. We’re really cracking down on that, so be sure you take your days off, okay? Full-time employees get three days off after six months. You can roll over the days you don’t use, but it’s best if you use them. In fact, take the rest of today off. Why don’t you go home now?” He was right behind me, and now he was practically pushing me out the door — I didn’t even see him coming until he was right in my face. He always looked a little drunk, but today he looked even worse. I doubt I looked any better. I really wasn’t myself. I was sleep-deprived and agitated. I had no desire to be here. Still, it didn’t occur to me to take time off until Goto suggested it. I didn’t even know that was a possibility. No one had ever mentioned it. Not Itsumi, not the Captain, nobody. Now Goto was here, pretty much telling me I was ruining things by working all the time. I only heard: “We’ll be okay without you, just leave.” Feeling like the best thing I could do was comply, I feebly said, “Fine.” If I didn’t go now, I’d have to track down Goto some other time anyway. I just wanted to get it over with. “Okay. In that case, you’ll need to fill out the form. Sign and date it, get Samukawa-san to stamp it, then bring it over to me. The forms should be in there,” Goto said, pointing at a cabinet in the shredder station. He rolled his shoulders as he walked off. I bet he’s hitting the links with the higher-ups on his days off. Maybe that’s his strategy for getting ahead in the factory, but he should probably give a little more thought to his physical appearance. Don’t walk around looking like a drunk all the time. I searched the drawer that Goto had pointed to, but found only a brittle rubber thimblette and a staple remover. I looked through the others, one at a time. In the bottom drawer, I found a shallow cardboard box containing A6-size sheets with PAID VACATION REQUEST FORM written on the top. Never knew these were here. Itsumi had never mentioned them. Being told I could go home in the middle of the day was not entirely disappointing. Still, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. If I’d known this was possible, I wouldn’t have come in the first place. I put myself through hell to get out of bed. Still, if I can go home, I should go home. Just go. At the same time, I figured, well, I’m already here, why not walk around the factory for a little while to calm down. I didn’t want to rush back to a house that smells like my brother, where I’d probably zone out in front of the TV and battle with my own demons for the rest of the day. In moments like this, you have to move around a little. Besides, no one would care if I walked around the factory during business hours, as long as I had my badge. I wasn’t going to wander through the other buildings or anything. I’d stay outside, look at the trees and hills. The factory actually had a lot of green, and I thought I’d better try taking it in at least once, because who knows when I might quit. And if I did, I know I’d never come back.
I filled out the sheet, then took it over to the Captain, who’d just gotten to work. He had his reading glasses on, and was poring over some file open on his desk. When I cleared my throat, he looked up and removed his glasses. I explained the situation and handed him the sheet. He said something like Ho-hoh, then put the file away. “The managers had a meeting this morning. I bet Goto-san got an earful. ‘You better be giving PTO to your contract workers,’ or something like that.” Well, that explains it. “Do you know what you’re going to do with the rest of your day?” I told him I was thinking about walking around for a while. Ho-hoh, again, this time with a huge grin. “I’ve been here so long that there’s really nothing left to see, but for someone like you exploring could be pretty interesting. Ushiyama-san, do you know about the river? The big one that goes to the ocean?” I was pretty sure I’d heard about it, but couldn’t say for sure. “You’ve never seen it, have you? Well, there’s a big bridge that runs between the north and south zones. The two sides couldn’t feel more different. Everything over there is more, uh, physical. The buildings here are so metaphysical. Know what I mean? The bridge is beautiful, by the way. It was designed by some famous architect. You should go and take a look. There’s no need to walk across it. Going the whole way is a real workout. But there’s a bus that stops on the bridge. Maybe you could walk partway, then catch a bus — it’s one of those free shuttles that circles around the factory. Anyway, you might like the view. From the bridge, you can see a lot of birds.” I couldn’t care less about bird-watching, but I decided to walk in that direction. It’d be nice to walk with a goal in mind. On my walk over, I saw lots of people dressed much more casually than I was. A few men lugging giant blocks of metal were wearing grungy gray jumpsuits that had been stained black with oil or ink. Other people were weari
ng suits, but most of them were in cars or on buses. When they were on foot, they would walk to the nearest bus stop and wait for a ride. Office girls were walking around in groups, holding clutches. There were some young women and men with their jackets off, playing a rowdy game of volleyball. Lunchtime aboveground was a beautiful thing. Everyone was wearing a badge. A lot of them had red straps, same as me, but I might have been the only red around without a jumpsuit on. “Permanent employees from HQ are dark blue, and the top dogs are black, but the top top dogs are silver. If you ask me, it looks more like gray than silver. Anyway, if you’re silver you can basically go anywhere you want. In other words, silvers are the highest up. Executives or their heirs. Then there are the permanents from affiliates and subsidiaries. They’re blue. Visitors get dark red, almost reddish-brown. Nonpermanents are always bright colors. Red, yellow, or shocking pink. There are supposed to be differences between them, probably related to the type of work. Physical labor, desk work, and so on.” “Why do the nonpermanents get stuck with the colors that stand out?” “Well, most nonpermanent workers do physical work, right? If they keep their straps out while they’re working, it can get kind of dangerous, like when you’re using the shredder. You have to do something with the badge, take it off or something, right? Red and yellow are safety colors, aren’t they? What color are you, Yoshiko-chan?” Red. What color’s my brother? Yellow? Pink? “Just follow the signs that say TO SOUTH. They’ll get you to the bridge. If you follow the main route, you can get on the bus if you get tired. There was a time when I used to walk all the way across that bridge to stay in shape, over and back, north and south.” North and south? Come on, really, I thought, but when I got there, it really did feel that way. The river was so wide that you couldn’t see the other bank from the foot of the bridge. It felt funny. Here I was, a single cog, a disposable laborer who’d never had the chance to experience the sheer size of the factory — the idea of crossing this huge bridge felt a little overwhelming. Am I really allowed to be here? I stopped and stared at the bridge. It was gigantic. Still, I’m not so sure you could call it beautiful. There were a few other pedestrians. A bus full of people in suits was coming over from the other side. The passengers must have been from the north, from HQ. They’d probably gone to the south zone for some meeting. “Honestly, with the work we do in the Shredder Squad, I think we’d be more at home over there, in the south. Well, you’ll see what I mean.”
The Factory Page 9
