Short story | A phone that calls for memories and complaints

A phone that calls for memories and complaints

There was a housing complex where white-haired women worked.

All the women were hired by the post office and handed out precious pieces of paper in their baskets that were sent to the prefab hut every day.

 

A young, Siamese-like man was sent to the prefab hut with a postcard when the sun began to shine.

"My name is Kosaku Momoyama, and I'm working here, Thank you."

 

Negishi, the chief of the duty department, who likes smoking looked around the hut and said.

"It's dirty"

 

Momoyama saw a name tag stuck all over the wall of the hut, but he didn't think it was as dirty as the chief.

The white-haired women explained the need for name tags to the chief in a cold tone.

The chief looked at the wall with the name tag and said, "It's dirty," without looking at the woman.

 

The section chief left the Siamese cat and returned to the main office.

The man was polite and gentle, but had a cold atmosphere that was difficult to talk to.

 

There were three women, and it was the slender lady Naito who taught Momoyama how to distribute postcards.

The ladies answered Momoyama's lonely and important question.

Postcards are easy-to-use business tools that anyone can distribute by looking at their names and address numbers, but in order to improve efficiency, they had to do something elaborate.

 

The chief left behind words like mud dolls, so the women moved their mouths without moving their hands to get rid of them.

The ladies drowned out the mud dolls and allowed their hands to move.

 

Momoyama went to a restaurant with the ladies for lunch and ordered an omelet rice set and a chocolate parfait with a scent of spring breeze.

After Momoyama ordered, the ladies were ordering herbal tea and tea.

Momoyama hoped that the omelet rice set and chocolate parfait wouldn't come.

He thought he wouldn't have to be a chick if at least omelet rice didn't come.

 

However, as it was a set, it came with soup and juice.

The Siamese cat became tiny like a chick glared at by a cat and sipped the soup.

 

"We have a small stomach," said Lady Naito with a smile on Momoyama.

"I don't eat lunch. I'm used to it, so it's nothing, but you're young, so it's hard."

 

The chick remained a chick until he left the restaurant.

When he returned to the prefab hut, he set about handling the move.

 

Momoyama told the ladies that he warned him not to put dirty things out of his mouth like her chief.

"It seems that all of these name tags have the name and address of the person who moved, but well thought out."

 

The slender lady Naito said in a thick voice.

"That's right? With this, you can sort the postcards while checking the people who have moved. The section chief doesn't know. People in this housing complex come and go very hard."

 

From her words, which Momoyama said with the intention of comforting her, he found a clue to the true busyness of this work.

The postcards of the already relocated residents, which are not processed by the headquarters, raised his salary as much as the restaurant's lunch set.

Momoyama had his overtime on his first day and the ladies’ salary was higher as much as they could eat a chocolate parfait.

 

The number of ladies hired was six, and they worked in shifts.

The powerful young man worked most of the time except Sunday and Saturday.

There were days when I worked with Lady Naito three times in a week.

Momoyama seems to get along with Lady Naito even though her age is far away, and she often talked at the end of work.

 

When the cherry blossoms couldn't be seen from the ground and the lush and strong leaves were stretched, a lady gave her health away and couldn't work.

That's why he ended up working Momoyama completely without a break except Sunday.

Momoyama got a cold sweat when he saw the schedule.

 

"Make a lot," said Lady Naito optimistically. "Because you’re young, and you’ve been working since April this year, no matter how hard you try, your annual income won't exceed one million yen, right?"

 

Momoyama worked while he prayed that God would surely help him.

Around that time, Chief Negishi sought out with a few subordinates to find a new worker and set up a sign for a part-time job in front of the headquarters.

 

The day Momoyama worked from Monday to Friday without a break, he couldn't move when he decided to go to college at night.

"I'll work for Momoyama tomorrow," lady Naito said.

 

Momoyama climbed from the foot of Mt. Fuji to the top and felt the comfort and security of being taken to the fluffy bed of the house by ropeway or helicopter on the way back.

The expression of relief in Momoyama had a friendly atmosphere full of joy that made everyone want to say "Congratulations".

 

Since then, Momoyama's vacation has increased by one day, and Lady Naito has become busy.

 

The summer of that year was so hot that every asphalt softened and kids could prank the ground and break it.

The ladies in the housing complex wanted to take a day off, and Momoyama had to work every day except Sunday.

It's been a while since he was happy that he was off school after work.

 

There were times when he was working with three people a day, but now he's two.

At that time, the chief’ present arrived.

This present seemed to last very long, and he was a healthy young man who would never go away.

Since the youth came in, they has been able to work with three people a day.

Momoyama's sermon was given, "Don't misdeliver Mr. Inose." "Distribute more accurately than quickly. Slow is more painful for the person in charge than impatient."

 

Around the time when fresh pears were harvested in the field next to Lady Naito, the ladies who had been completely disappointed by the heat of summer quit one after another.

 

By the time the oranges were sent from the hometown of Momoyama, there were only two ladies.

Everyone was replaced by a young man, and Momoyama was everyone's senior.

 

By the way, none of the two remaining ladies were slender.

The remaining ladies was one of the most ladies with few wrinkles and few white hair.

Lady Naito quit her job with a woman with similar numbers of wrinkles and white hair.

 

The day after Momoyama ate all the oranges sent from his parents' house, ten high school part-timers were hired to distribute New Year's cards, and inside the prefab to avoid the piled-up postcards and people.

It was a hard time.

 

The four girls who classify New Year's cards specialized in mouth rather than hands.

Momoyama thought that it was because of the mouth that self-sufficiency of internal work was 100 yen cheaper than outside work.

Today is the year of the rabbit, and tomorrow is the year of the dragon.

Inside the prefab hut, there was a crackling sound of postcards like the applause that occurred after the comedy was over.

New Year's postcards are thus rolled up like playing cards.

The girls were laughing when the comedy was over and they applauded.

"Hey! I don't have time to talk anymore." The lady sewed the girls' mouths with their eyes. "If you talk, your hands will go crazy and it will be late, so please keep quiet."

 

The girls seemed boring and began to applaud.

Momoyama was good at applause.

She was too busy, and she was standing ovation alone.

 

By the time the lunch break was over and the basket with the last New Year's postcards arrived, everyone was a standing ovation.

Meanwhile, the phone rang.

A lady at the desk with the phone picked up her handset.

Momoyama was consciously watching her.

 

The lady gradually began to speak intimately, and she showed signs of a long phone call with a nice expression after she had finished listening to the ballad songs.

 

The girls saw it and began to complain. "Tell us, what about you?"

 

Everyone knew that they didn't have time to talk.

Momoyama was also close to her, but he began to worry and frustrate.

However, her nice expression and conversation appealed to her Momoyama's heart, and the frustration turned to the girls who continued to complain.

"You don't know," Momoyama stood in front of the girls, annoyed by her complaints.

But his face was bright as if looking up at the heavens. "Now she's meeting her old comrades. They worked together before we were born."

The lady on the phone didn't seem to hear the girls' complaints.

However, with her handset pressed against her ear, she seemed to be unfocused like a blind man, with only her mind and consciousness clear.

Even her clear heart and consciousness was poured into her handset.

When the girls began to get tired of complaining, the lady finally picked up her handset and returned to herself.

She said to Momoyama, "Mr. Naito," she said, with her smile when she was holding her handset. "Give my best regards to Momoyama and others"

Momoyama didn't show his surprise, but he was impressed. "Do you still have the opportunity to meet Mr. Naito?"

"There is. Because we live in a housing complex in the same neighboring town"

"Then, please tell her," Same to you. Have a good year. ""

 

image:

Images from Pixabay by Here and now, unfortunately, ends my journey on Pixabay