Vigilante Slimming Scanner – Chapter 5

TORO

Despite the fact that I want to kick the register into next year, and whatever god controlling it, I exit the store, head left two blocks, and turn. This part of town is an interesting mix of both office buildings and residential apartments. I have one coworker that lives a five minute walk from here. She’s the luckiest of us all.

At the second alley, I turn right and stop dead in my tracks. The register said “stairs,” I heard “stairs,” but I failed to understand the true nature of “stairs” in this context. Snaking up the side of the hill in front of me, which might as well be a small mountain, is a stone staircase of at least a hundred stairs. At least. My eyes follow it up, up, up, watching an elderly woman coming down the stairs, her right hand clutched to the handrail and left hand holding a shopping bag. Does she go up these stairs when she comes back? How could she? She’s at least eighty years old! She’d probably die before reaching the top.

I begin to sweat immediately, but I promised I’d do this, and I won’t be able to feed myself if I don’t suck it up and go. Besides, I’m a young man. I can do this! Yes, I can. Do I sound confident yet? Because my feet aren’t moving.

I force my foot to the first step, the second, the third. I climb and climb, my heart pumping, my feet swelling in my shoes, and my shirt dampening from sweat. Ugh. I’m going to be soaked by the time I get to work. Thirty steps, forty steps, seventy steps later, I finally make it to the top in time to suck in a deep breath and double over in pain. My legs ache, the muscles burning like they haven’t in years. I lean against the first building on the right and wait until my heart slows down and my throat opens enough for me to talk. I am way out of shape.

Once I pull myself together, I press the buzzer on the apartment building next to the name “Mitsuwaka.” A cacophony of shouts and high-pitched squeals erupts from behind the door, children, at least two of them by my guess, yell and scamper. I wait patiently, hoping I’ll continue to cool down instead of heat up, but wonder if I should ring the bell again. Maybe they didn’t hear me.

The door swings open and a young girl appears, dressed in a school uniform with her backpack on.

“Mommy! It’s some man!” She yells down the hallway. “Excuse me. I have to go.” She pushes past me and two young boys follow her out, all three walking in the opposite direction of the stairs. I wonder where that goes.

“Can I help you with something?” The young woman, possibly in her late twenties, focuses on me, her eyes narrowed.

I hold out the bag of milk to her. “I was told to bring you this milk. It comes from the convenience store down and around the corner.” I point in the direction of the stairs before trying to hand her the bag again. She hesitates but takes it, glancing inside.

“Why are you bringing me milk? I didn’t pay for this.”

“I know,” I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “It’s a gift, I guess. I’ll bring some every day. Well, every weekday.”

She hesitates again, her mouth open and jaw slack. “Who is giving me gifts? I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I shake my head and laugh. “The gods are on your side.”

“This is very generous. I don’t know what to say except thank you. My kids drink a lot of milk and it’s really expensive. It’s hard to afford this much on one income.”

I want to ask if she’s a single mom or maybe her husband is jobless, but it’s really none of my business.

We bow, and I turn to look at the stairs before turning back to her. “Is this the only way to get to and from your place from the business district below?”

“I’m afraid so. The road in the opposite direction loops around to the east. You can take side streets to get up here, but it’s an extra kilometer at least. Plus you’re still going uphill.”

“Great,” I mutter under my breath.

She laughs as I head to the top stair. “It’s the free health club! I run the stairs every weekend since I can’t afford going to the gym.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I call over my shoulder as I begin to descend the staircase. My legs are jelly, and my knees wobble as I take the first five steps. I need to grab the handrail or I’ll tumble to my death.

Halfway down the stairs, a young foreign woman in running gear passes me running up the stairs. Her face is flushed and she’s breathing deeply, her muscles rippling on her arms and legs. We smile briefly at each other, and I watch her ascend the rest of the flight, checking her out. Damn. She’s hot. Maybe this daily errand won’t be so bad after all.

—-

It’s a good thing it’s Friday because I will die if I have to climb these stairs three days in a row. Die. As it is, I’ll have to take pain relievers today at work and go straight home and curl into a ball of ache instead of to the bar with everyone else. I’ll be lucky if I survive the day.

I walk into the convenience store, grab the two cartons of milk, and scowl at the register as it cheerily rings me up. “Walking okay today?” it asks.

“Shut up,” I reply and head out. It’s not going to get the best of me.

I lift my foot from one step to the next, wishing I had loaded my phone with music or something to push me through. I figured, if I showed up earlier today, I could get the milk and take the stairs slower than I did yesterday. But watching the hot, brunette woman, her ponytail swaying to the time of her steps, climb past me on the stairs leaves me feeling like a loser so I pick up the pace and am near tears by the time I reach the summit.

I ring the doorbell and the three kids bid me a happy farewell as they take off to school. Their mom, Kamiko, blinks at me from the other side of the doorway.

“You’re back!” She thrusts her hands onto her hips and tilts her head. “I thought that was a joke, and I wouldn’t see you again.”

“No, ma’am,” I say, bowing forward. She’s at least ten years older than me, so I should be polite, even though the coffee and protein bar I ate this morning did not prepare me for this. “Here’s your milk. I won’t be here tomorrow, because it’s the weekend, but I’ll be back on Monday.”

She takes the bag from me, her lips twisted to the side. “Are you sure you can afford to keep doing this? Who told you we needed milk?”

I can understand her hesitation. I pinch myself every morning to make sure I didn’t descend into my own nightmare.

“It’s a gift from the convenience store. I swear.” I hold up my hand. “They told me to bring you milk. I bring it. That’s it.”

She hums as she looks in the bag. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” I bow to her. “Have a nice day! See you on Monday.”

The entire next week goes the same, but by the time I reach Friday again, I feel better about both the daily climbs and my milk missions. I don’t ask many questions of Kamiko, but each day, she reveals a little more about herself to me. She’s a single mom and divorced from her husband. I’m not sure why, but I’m guessing he’s a deadbeat kind of guy by the look in her eyes every time she mentions him. Her kids are all in school, and she’s a clerk at an office a fifteen minute walk away.

“I save money by walking every day, and as a clerk, I only have to work during office hours and then be home for my kids. If I did sales or some other job, they would expect me to go out at night and drink,” she says, closing and locking the front door behind her after putting the milk in her fridge.

“Do you own your apartment?” I ask, stretching my quads before heading down the stairs.

“I do. I was able to buy it when my parents passed away.”

My face falls thinking about my own aging parents and how much I love them. Her kids may be orphaned if anything happens to her.

She hikes the strap of her bag up on her shoulder. “If you climb these stairs every day and then go for a run down this street, it curves to the east, and then you can take the first left and run the hill back down to the business district below. There are lots of people that do this run and love it.”

I survey my sweaty shirt and pants. I’ve been talking about losing weight and getting in shape forever. Maybe this is what I need.

“But then I’d be a mess before work, not that I’m not already a mess, but I can usually cool down and towel off before going into the office.”

“It’s just a thought. Oh! There’s a great gym down there, too.”

“Yeah, it’s a few blocks from my work. I’ve been thinking about joining.” I think about it all the time. Do I actually do it? No.

“If you join the gym you can shower there before work.” She shrugs her shoulders and smiles. She’s super nice. I can understand why the registers have always helped her out. I’m sure the free milk is one of a many number of things she gets for free there and probably doesn’t even realize it.

“I’ll give it some thought.” I bow, and we depart, going our separate directions. “See you Monday!” I call over my shoulder, and this time when the young foreign woman passes me on the stairs, we smile and say good morning to each other.