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Letter from Boston
One Phone Call
By MASAKO
YAMADA
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かかってきた電話
先日、経済雑誌『エコノミクス』の研修生としての働き口に応募した雅子さんは、見本記事提出による審査に通り、近々面接を受けることになりました。もしうまくいけば、この夏、雅子さんは雑誌の編集部で研修することになります…。
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My friend Hana invited me out to
dinner on the day that my last spring break guest
left ― a Thursday ― and she kept on telling
me that I looked sick. I was in perfect health, but I was
almost grateful that she told me this, since it made
me listen to how tired my body told me that I was. I slept for about 14 hours that
night and I felt much better the following day.
On that Friday, I went home right
after school. Even though the weekend was starting, I wasn't planning on doing anything
with friends. That was the way I'd wanted it to be. I walked into my apartment, put down
my bags and wandered into the living room. My
roommate, Rebecca, was doing some kind of work on the sofa. We chewed the fat for a couple of minutes and then, as if
she'd suddenly remembered, she said, "MASAKO, DID YOU LOOK AT THE BOARD!? YOU GOT A REALLY IMPORTANT PHONE CALL!!"
The
"board" that she was talking about is the bulletin
board in the kitchen where we all leave messages for each other. I'd walked right past it, so I hurried back to the
kitchen. She continued yelling from the living room:
"Oh my God, the guy was SO excited. He kept on saying,
`Where is she? Do you know when she has her breaks? I
have to schedule an interview and I really need to
talk to her NOW,' so I told him that you were in class all day, but that he could
probably reach you at 7 a.m. He's going to call you
tomorrow."
The "guy" that she was talking about is someone from whom
I've been waiting to hear for weeks. No, he's not some passionate lover of mine. He's a journalist for the
magazine "The Economist" and he's also the person who is
responsible for interviewing the potential summer
interns. The magazine has one position for a "would-be journalist" in the science and technology
section, and I'd applied for that slot. The initial round of the contest centered on a 600-word sample article, and I'd passed. Now, he was inviting me to go to Washington, D.C. to talk with him
directly.
Although I knew that I could easily find a summer research position at BU,
for some time, my
eyes had been wandering elsewhere. The "Economist" internship, especially, seemed to beckon. All other options were a very
distant second best. I had spent days writing that sample article and I was satisfied
with what I'd written. I was happy to know that the judges were satisfied as well.
On
the day before this phone call ― that is, the Thursday on which I
felt so tired ― I had a casual, but very dark, lunchtime chat
with the professor who is in charge of my scholarship. I told him that I was looking for a summer position elsewhere, and he told me calmly, but insistently, that my
foremost concern this summer should be to study for my general physics exam. I knew what he was saying: my "break" from physics might last forever if I didn't pass that exam, since I'd
be asked to leave the department.
I couldn't
get the "Economist" internship out of my mind but
I decided that I wouldn't apply halfheartedly to any
other internship. I'd put all of my efforts into that
internship, and if it didn't pan out, I'd put all of
my energy into studying for the generals. This seemed
to be a good compromise. My getting that phone call
has brought me one step closer to my true goal.
This
is the first time I've ever wanted a job so
badly. I feel my heart beating whenever I think about it. I've barked at a boyish fax-machine operator to hurry up
so my documents would reach the office as soon as
possible. I've pulled out the business suits that
have been sleeping in my closet. I've cut my hair short so I'd look more professional. I
haven't felt this desire for anything ―
entrance to college, a boyfriend, yummy
food ― in a long time. I'm
generally good at adapting to whatever comes my way,
but this time around, I'm going after what I really want, and I don't want to back down. It's a good feeling.
Shukan ST: April 11, 1997
(C) All rights reserved
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