Country Bambina
Driving at night around here requires a bit of a knack.
That is, to keep your hands on the wheel while thinking, 'A deer could jump out at any moment.' Yes, the most dangerous creature you're likely to encounter around here isn't a bear or a ghost. It's a deer.
If you're driving, you'll pass sign after sign warning you to 'Watch out for collisions.'
I'm not joking, they are seriously dangerous.
In my family, we have a legendary tale passed down by my mother about one such collision with a deer.
One night, a deer suddenly appeared in front of the Majesta my mother was driving. In the next instant, the deer used her car as a springboard and took a massive leap. It went 'tap, tap, tap!' as it scrambled from the hood onto the roof, then gracefully bounded away. It was like a top-tier stuntman. The deer supposedly stood up, shook itself off, and vanished into the darkness with a flourish, but the Majesta left behind had a shattered windshield, a bent frame, and was totaled on the spot. Deer are terrifying.
Of course, that baptism by fire would eventually come for me, too, without mercy.
It was on a pitch-black road on my way home, exhausted from work. The moment I cleared a curve, a beautiful silhouette emerged in the glow of my headlights. The instant I thought I made eye contact with the deer's round, innocent eyes,
what came out of my mouth wasn't a scream.
“YOU STUPID DEER!!!!!!!!”
It was a primal scream, filled with all the frustration of my daily life.
I made it home with my adrenaline at its peak, and with my trembling hands, I used my iPhone's light to check my beloved car from every angle. Miraculously, the car was unscathed. As expected of my car, and my god-like steering skills.
However, when I looked closely, I found three hairs stuck in the gap of the headlight. Three stiff hairs. I wondered how many hairs were on the head of Obake no Q-taro, and I'm pretty sure Namihei's brother also had three hairs. That thought crossed my mind, but
the anger just kept boiling from the bottom of my heart. I suppose I should say, 'Actually, I feel sorry for it.' But I can't.
“Hey, there’s probably a deer lying on the road over there, you should go catch it.”
When I told my father, who has a hunting license, he just lay on the sofa fiddling with the TV remote and said this with the face of a hermit:
“Too much trouble, I don't want it.”
Even though there was twenty thousand yen lying right in front of him, this man's hunting instincts seemed to have gone into hibernation long ago.
When I complained about this at work, a senior colleague started talking with eyes like a dead fish. As usual, she had her glasses hooked on her chin like that guy from Kobukuro, but contrary to that stylish trademark, her face was gaunt. She said, 'I, too, am a member of the Victims' Association.' She, too, had her car destroyed by a deer on her way to a concert she had been looking forward to. She crawled out of the depths of despair, and when she finally reached the front row through sheer tenacity, she cried. Not because of the divine artist who appeared on stage. But because of the innocent smile on thedeer patchon the artist's chest. 'All my emotions just went blank.' Now, it's become a classic story, and even though we know it's wrong, we burst into laughter every time we hear it.
City people might call them 'forest gods,' but that's ridiculous. They are just dangerous Bambinas that threaten our peace and our wallets. I'm sure that somewhere today, another driver is being brought to tears by these country Bambinas.