the car and she gets in, either. You don’t know when she gets in. The driver
starts feeling a little weird and turns around, and there’s this young woman
in the cab. But since she’s a ghost there’s no reflection of her in the rear-
view mirror.”
“That’s bizarre. I guess ghosts don’t reflect in mirrors?”
“I guess not. They say she has no reflection. Even if human eyes can see
her ...”
“Yes, but I suppose human eyes would see her, wouldn’t they? Mirrors
aren’t quite so impressionable,” I said. But of course the eyes looking at the
mirror were human eyes, weren’t they?
“But it isn’t just one or two people who’ve seen her,” said the driver.
“How far does she ride?”
“Well, you get scared and kind of dazed, and so you start driving really
fast, and then when you come into downtown Kamakura you relax, and by
then she’s already gone.”
“She must be from Kamakura, then. She must want to go back to her
house in Kamakura. They don’t know who she is?”
“Ah, now that I don’t know. . . .”
Even if he did know, or if there was some talk among taxi drivers about
who she might be and where she might come from, it was doubtful that the
driver would be careless enough to say so to a passenger.
“She wears a kimono, the ghost—she’s quite a beautiful woman. Not that
anyone’s looking back over their shoulder at her or anything. You don’t
exactly ogle a ghost’s face.”
“Does she ever say anything?”
“I’ve heard she doesn’t speak. It’d be nice if she’d say thank you at least,
right? But of course when ghosts talk they’re always complaining”
