Nocturnes_ Five Stories of Music and Nightfall - Kazuo Ishiguro [60]
“It’s going to be a new presidential suite,” Lindy said. “I love coming here. No light switches yet, no carpet. But it’s slowly coming together. When I first found it, it was much rougher. Now you can see how it’ll look. There’s even this couch now.”
In the centre of the room was a bulky shape with a sheet draped completely over it. Lindy went to it like it was an old friend and flopped down tiredly.
“It’s my fantasy,” she said, “but I kind of believe in it. They’re building this room just for me. That’s why I get to be in here. All of this. It’s because they’re helping me. Helping me build my future. This place used to be a real mess. But look at it now. It’s taking shape. It’s gonna be grand.” She patted the space next to her. “Come on, sweetie, have a rest. I’m feeling drained. You must be too.”
The couch—or whatever it was under the sheet—was surprisingly comfortable, and as soon as I’d sunk into it, I felt waves of tiredness coming over me.
“Boy, am I sleepy,” Lindy said, and her weight fell onto my shoulder. “Isn’t this a great place? I found the key in the slot, first time I came here.”
We were quiet for a while, and I felt myself falling asleep. But then I remembered something.
“Hey, Lindy.”
“Mmm?”
“Lindy. What happened to that award?”
“The award? Oh yeah. The award. I hid it. What else could I do? You know, sweetie, you really deserved that award. I hope it means something to you, my presenting it to you tonight, the way I did. It wasn’t just a whim. I thought about it. I thought about it really carefully. I don’t know if it means much to you. I don’t know if you’ll even remember it ten years, twenty years down the line.”
“I will for sure. And it does mean a lot to me. But Lindy, you say you hid it, but where? Where did you hide it?”
“Mmm?” She was falling asleep again. “I hid it the only place I could. I put it in that turkey.”
“You put it in the turkey.”
“I did exactly the same thing once when I was nine years old. I hid my sister’s glowball inside a turkey. That’s what gave me the idea. Quick thinking, right?”
“Yeah, it sure was.” I felt so tired, but I forced myself to focus. “But Lindy, how well did you hide it? I mean, would those cops have found it by now?”
“I don’t see how. There wasn’t anything sticking out, if that’s what you mean. Why would they think to look up there? I was pushing it behind my back, like this. And kept pushing. I didn’t turn around to look at it, because then those boys would have wondered what I was doing. It wasn’t just a whim, you know. Deciding to give you that award. I thought about it, real hard. I sure hope it means something to you. God, I need to sleep.”
She slumped against me and the next moment she was making snoring noises. Concerned about her surgery, I adjusted her head carefully so her cheek wasn’t pressing on my shoulder. Then I too began to drift off.
I WOKE WITH a jerk and saw signs of dawn in the big window in front of us. Lindy was still fast asleep, so I carefully extricated myself from her, stood up and stretched my arms. I went to the window and looked at the pale sky and the freeway far below. Something had been on my mind as I was falling asleep and I tried to remember what it was, but my brain was foggy and exhausted. Then I remembered, and I went to the couch and shook Lindy awake.
“What is it? What is it? Whaddaya want?” she said without opening her eyes.
“Lindy,” I said. “The award. We’ve forgotten about the award.”
“I told you already. It’s in that turkey.”
“Okay, so listen. Those cops may not have thought to look inside the turkey. But sooner or later, someone’s going to find it. Maybe someone’s carving