"Think of it as a vacation. You haven't had one of those in a while. Not a real one." Gedo was trying to sound philosophical about the whole thing. It wasn't entirely working.
"A vacation locked in a hotel room doesn't count."
"This will. And it's much nicer than a hotel room. Someone will be there to get you."
Maybe a whole suite instead of a room. Jay thought he could probably live with that right now. It beat hell out of the alternative. "Right. How do I know who to look for?"
"She will know to look for you."
She did, as it turned out. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the woman who tapped on the window of the isolation room and waved wasn't it - gaijin, pretty, open-faced, very short reddish-brown hair and cheerful blue eyes. She did the paper-exchange dance required for freeing him, then went out a side door. He was told over an intercom to leave through the back door, which opened with a sharp click. He grabbed his bags and jetted out before anyone could change their mind.
The woman was waiting next to a car, looking amused. "Now you know how 200 pounds of heroin feels."
He laughed; it was the first time in several hours he'd felt even close to wanting to do that. "You don't have any issues with riding in a car with me?"
She shook her head. "I went home and got my shots last month." She smiled and made a serial killer with a knife gesture, complete with eee eee eee sound effects.
"And what happens if I get sick?"
"The same thing that would happen in a quarantine room; I'll take you to the hospital. If I promise you don't want to walk all the way there, will you get in the car?"
He threw his things in back and sat up front. "Do you have a name, or am I calling you Drug Mule for the next two weeks?"
"It's Callie, and I would deeply appreciate it if you don't call me Drug Mule."
"So, where are we going?"
"Minamiizu. Hot springs, swimming in the ocean if you're inclined, and I'm not a terrible cook, or so I'm told. It's not the worst way to spend two weeks being officially labeled a bag of disease."
He found himself laughing again. "Listen, I won't call you Drug Mule if you don't call me that."
"It's a deal."
"How do you know Gedo, exactly?"
"I know him inexactly. Friend of a friend kind of thing. He's worried as hell about you, if you didn't know."
"I know. He always starts ordering me around when he's worried." He settled back in the seat with a sigh. It was unexpectedly comfortable. He was used to Japanese cars being fairly cramped quarters; this seemed like almost ridiculous luxury.
"You've had a hell of a day. I won't be offended if you take a nap. It's a two-and-a-half-hour drive."
He didn't intend to - he had about a million more questions about all of this - but he was out within ten minutes.
When he woke, she was singing along softly to music he didn't recognize. She had a lovely voice, and he didn't want her to stop, so he promptly did his best imitation of still being asleep.
"Welcome back. There's water in the cooler in back if you want it."
He turned and fished two bottles out. "How long was I asleep?"
"About an hour."
"How did you know I wasn't any more?"
"Your breathing changed."
Through the music. And her singing. "Gedo didn't mention you're a serial killer."
She laughed. "My job requires being observant of details. And I haven't killed anyone."
"Yet?"
"Well...I mean, you never know, do you? You could be one of those leaves-the-cap-off-the-toothpaste people and boom, just like that I'm telling the press how you swam too far out to sea, and that stray baseball bat floating on the surface just whacked you over the head ten or fifteen times while you were drowning."
"Cap on toothpaste. Check."
She smiled. "This is strange ground for me, too, you know. Entertaining the quarantined isn't my usual job. We'll muddle through."
"What is your usual job?"
"It's a bed and breakfast, more or less."
That wasn't exactly an answer to what he'd asked, and that just begged for speculation. But all of it would probably be wrong.
He watched as each road she turned onto got narrower and more quiet, save passing through two towns, neither of which looked especially bustling. The last road was marked with a sign that said it was a private drive; it was one lane, packed gravel, and was taking them distinctly uphill and into trees. When they broke through into the clear area around their destination, he just stared around in disbelief.
"Better than a hotel room?" If she sounded a bit smug, she had good reason.
"Hell, yes." The house wasn't big, but it looked like it had ample space to relax and just be. It was either alone or perfectly screened by trees at the top of a small bluff overlooking the sea. From here, he could see a deck with an enclosed mineral bath, and the head of a trail that looked like it went down the bluff. "This is...a vacation."
She might have chauffeured him here, but she let him tend to his bags. He was fine with that; whatever she was, she was definitely not 'the help'. Come to think of it..."Would you have been the one to bring me here normally?"
"No. But the man who does the driving for me hasn't had his shots. I'll be doing a lot of things I don't usually do around here." She turned from where she was unlocking the door to smile at him over her shoulder. "And before you jump off and start swimming toward home, that means cleaning and stuff. I gave the staff time off for the duration."
The inside of the house was as unexpected and pleasing as the outside. It was largely furnished Western-style, save a tatami room he could see into from the entryway. He kicked his shoes off and took the slippers that were waiting and dropped his bags by the couch for the moment.
"Feel free to look around. The bedrooms are upstairs. The one on the left is yours."
He didn't see anything surprising, other than the decor. He felt instantly comfortable, but he supposed it would seem like an exotic weekend retreat to a lot of people. The kitchen was the biggest he'd seen in a private home; the rooms generally were large, so there weren't many. He collected his bags and took them upstairs. His room was simply furnished, but looked comfortable. It was also Western in design. The doors to the other three rooms were closed, but he had a quick peek in them, too. A bathroom, a meditation room that looked more Japanese than anything else in the house, and Callie's bedroom. He lingered over the last. From the doorway, he could see a stuffed bookshelf, scattered art on the walls, and a bed with a plain blue cotton spread on it. Not much information, especially because he couldn't see the titles of the books in the dim light from the hall.
She was rattling around in the kitchen when he went back down. "Did you have a good look?"
"Through the door. I didn't go in."
"Thank you. Are there any foods you just loathe beyond all rational thought?"
"I'm not fond of liver. Lima beans, either. Other than that, eating machine all the way."
"You don't look like one."
"I should probably take it easy, though. I didn't see a gym."
"There isn't, but it's a nice two-mile run along the top of the bluff, and a harder one up and down the path to the beach. And you can swim once you're down there."
"No trunks."
"You don't need them if you don't want them; the strand along the bluff is private. There's a pair in the dresser in your room, though. They should fit."
"Well, in that case...feed me."
"But can you say it like a carnivorous plant?"
He wasn't sure what he was supposed to make of that, but she didn't really seem to expect an answer. She obviously did expect him to be hungry, though, judging by the plate she heaped up 20 minutes later. She was as good a cook as she'd said. Things were looking brighter all the time.
He was a little flummoxed after dinner about what exactly he was supposed to be doing. Callie finally laughed and told him he wasn't here to entertain her, and she wasn't expecting it. "The TV's there, the internet works, there are books all over the place, whatever you feel like doing."
He wanted to ask her some of the million questions he had left, but he thought that might not go over so well. He decided on the TV instead. She promptly picked up a book he would have sworn was the size of a car battery and got to work on it.
He didn't last long with the TV; bed was just sounding too good. Callie nodded her good night with a smile. Jay thought she was probably relieved. This had apparently been a strange day for her, too.
Review if you're interested in seeing more; it's the only way I can know!