A Dictionary of Mutual Understanding (20 page)

Ennichi: Old people believe that if they visit a shrine or a temple for religious services on such a holy day, they will receive special divine favours. Less religious townspeople will enjoy these days, as street pedlars set up fair stalls. The 8th of each month is observed as ennichi of Yakushi Nyorai
(
god of medicine), the 18th as that of Kannon (goddess of mercy), the 24th as that of Jizo
(
guardian of children), and the 28th as that of Fudo
(
god of non-movement).

This was their first visit; the signs were easy enough to spot. They tried to act nonchalantly but still hovered by the main door. One scanned the room and the other could only look at his shoes. Mama-san hid her surprise when I signalled that I would attend to them. Karin joined me and we greeted the two men and led them to one of the less requested tables near the kitchen. Until we could ascertain the spending power of a new customer, the rule was to reserve the better tables for the men who could afford the best sake. The men looked rich enough but hostesses knew more than most that this was not an indication of wealth. We brought them drinks and learned their names and occupations. They were both recent graduates; Kenzo Takahashi was a nautical engineer and Jomei Sato had studied medicine. Karin talked with Takahashi and I attended Sato. I was still only sixteen
but practised enough in conversation to talk to most clients with a light assurance. Some of the older, more educated, sombre men were harder to put at ease but I had not been intimidated by a customer for a long while. Sato was different. I had never felt an attraction to any of the men that came through the doors. Desire was an unsettling new sensation.

I poured him a drink. ‘Medicine is a fine profession. Your family must be proud.'

He smiled mischievously. ‘And your family must be proud of you too?'

I did not like his tone but I was not paid to take offence. ‘This is your first time here. Are you new to the delights of Maruyama?'

‘No.' He clinked glasses with his friend. ‘But this is Kenzo's first visit. See, Kenzo, I told you, did I not?' His companion's cheeks flushed and he gave Karin a shy glance. ‘So, ladies, I promised my friend a fine time, drink and beautiful women and the best shabu-shabu in town. When you are done here, you must join us. Listening to all these men droning on must work up an appetite.'

I laughed, out of habit. ‘That is a generous offer, but I'm afraid we will be here long after you are asleep.'

Sato gave me another impish look. ‘Is there room in your bed for two?'

I pretended to look at a watch. ‘Most customers wait at least ten minutes before asking that question.'

He laughed now. ‘I apologise for my lack of originality.'

I began to refill his drink when Akiko came up to our table and leaned down to whisper in my ear. I looked to the table at the back. The captain had arrived and
requested my attendance. I stood up from the stool so that she could take my place.

‘Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure. I hope to see you back here again. I'm afraid I must leave you for the moment.'

They both bowed and as I turned to leave Sato took hold of my hand, pressed it to his lips. ‘It really has been a delight. We will eat shabu-shabu, I am sure, one day.'

I walked across the bar to sit with Sakamoto. The captain touched my coral necklace. ‘I don't like you talking to other men.'

‘Tetsu, it's my job.' I lit a cigarette for him. ‘How else am I to pay my bills? Besides, those men are boys.'

‘I don't like how they look at you.' He moved his hand under the table and lifted the hem of my kimono, pushed his way between my legs. I tapped the end of his nose with my finger, chiding. ‘Naughty, Tetsu. Not here.'

‘Here.' The captain and I were in the corner but I feared if I looked up over the bar I would see Sato watching me, and this thought caused me shame. He kissed the side of my neck and, frustrated by the restrictions of the kimono, moved his hand away. ‘Let's have Mika join our table tonight.'

I sighed. ‘Must we? I dislike her so.'

‘She's not so bad. You have nothing to be jealous about. Besides, am I not good to you?'

Mika came to our table, all giggles and flushed cheeks and wet lips, so eager to please, like a dog freed from the leash. When the captain was not looking she shot me an expression of satisfaction. She could see, everyone could: the captain's affections were on the move. An hour
or so passed before Sato and Kenzo stood up and made their way to the exit. The young doctor was too handsome for this meat hall. He had no need to sit among hostesses feeding him false compliments. His looks alone could have tempted any one of them into breaking Mama-san's rules about entertaining clients outside the bar. Such a pity he was not older, or wealthier, or he would have been a perfect substitute for the captain. Sato bowed to Mama-san and as he was about to leave he glanced back, just for a moment, and smiled. The captain did not see our silent exchange but Mika did. I felt a flare of alarm and exhilaration, as if dipped in a freezing cold pool while the sun shone overhead. I felt alive, and just as quickly as the elation rose, I was left back in the shadows of Printemps, the high followed by a crashing low.

Later that night, long after Sakamoto and I had left the bar and found a room at a nearby inn, I lay next to the captain. I watched him snore and scratch his folds and dimples, a contented pig in a poke. I thought more on the professor's question. Would I recognise love when it arrived? Up until this evening I had not dared imagine how it might feel. My head, once so full of ways to keep my dango happy, became overrun with the image of Jomei: that mole, that mouth, that silly promise of shabu-shabu anywhere outside Printemps. Was this love? Or just desire? It did not matter. Sato was too young, too unknown, too unpredictable to risk my future on him.

Iki: An aesthetic and moral ideal developed by urban commoners in the late Edo period (1603–1867). This idealises not only an urbane, chic or bourgeois beauty but also the sophisticated life of a person who enjoys sensual pleasure. A lady possessing iki is highly spirited and always willing to make sacrifices for her lover.

A month later I saw him again. Monsoon showers had kept most of the customers away but as the rain finally subsided the door clattered open and his face appeared from beneath a roll of dripping newspaper. He peered across the empty tables and I felt as if he had shot a flare of light over the bar. He smiled and walked up to me. ‘Your captain is not here?'

Sitting alone, I must have looked like a market trader waiting for a sale. ‘He's not my captain, but I am expecting him.'

He gestured at the seat beside me. ‘May I keep you company until he arrives?'

‘Of course. It would be a pleasure.' What else could I say? And the truth was easy.

He sat down next to me, too close, but I did not move away. I lit a match and he leaned forward with a cigarette in his mouth. He surveyed the room as he smoked.

‘You live a curious life, Amaterasu.'

I smiled. ‘I do? How so?'

‘All these beautiful young women stuck here with these old men. What a waste.'

I shook my head in remonstrance. ‘Our customers are attentive and generous. We are lucky to spend time with such educated, charming gentlemen.'

He nodded, maybe in agreement. ‘I had not thought of it that way.' He looked at my coral necklace. ‘And that Kempeitai officer is the finest of companions, I imagine?'

Was he trying to embarrass me? I lit a cigarette to steady my nerves, breathed in deep to settle my stomach. What to say of Sakamoto? I saw myself naked, the captain pouring sake laced with gold leaf over my body until my nipples were yellow beads shining in the room. I felt him lick me clean and tell me I was his chrysanthemum as he poured the chilled liquid down my spine and eased my body open. What to say of that? ‘The captain and I are friends, nothing more.'

‘And is that what you want, Amaterasu, only to be his friend?'

What a casual and cruel remark. How little he knew of the choices available to me. ‘You cannot judge what you do not understand.'

He considered this and then responded: ‘I've lived a privileged life, I know. But I'm not immune to how we might be forced to do things we would rather not.'

I hated that my laughter sounded bitter. ‘Money makes such compassionate judges of us.'

‘Forgive me, Amaterasu. I may be young but I do realise this is a job for you, nothing more. How you must tire of our company while you indulge our poor jokes and tickle our fragile egos.' He picked a stray shred of tobacco
from his lip and I found myself wondering again what it would be like to kiss that mouth. ‘If you get the opportunity, will you leave all this eventually?'

I smiled. ‘You make it sound as if I'm trying to escape.'

‘Well, aren't you?' I could not reply and he nodded as if he understood my caution. ‘I'd like to think that outside this place there is a handsome lover waiting for you. I see you both walking around a park, the sun on your face, or the rain, whatever you prefer. You are on your way to a concert, or a restaurant. He has bought you a small gift, but you cherish it.'

I shook my head playfully. ‘You have a poet's tongue for a man of science.'

‘I am not a sentimental man, I promise you. I'm a new customer here, I know, but it's impossible not to care for you girls.' He looked at me as if I were the only object in the room. ‘I just wonder what happens when you are no longer girls?'

Even if I could have answered him I did not get the chance. The captain walked through the door and Sato, aware of my sudden alarm, turned to look. The two men exchanged some silent understanding and the doctor gathered up his cigarettes. ‘Thank you for your company.' Mama-san went up to Sakamoto to alleviate any potential embarrassment, and Sato turned to me, the picture of relaxation. ‘Tell me, Amaterasu. Can you see yourself walking in a park one day?' He paused. ‘With me?'

I could not say what I truly thought. ‘Mama-san does not allow private meetings.'

Sato tutted. ‘How cruel. I imagine you look very different in sunlight. I'd like to see that.' He bowed, but before he
left, he teased me once more. ‘Kazagashira Park is lovely this time of year. Tuesdays at noon are particularly pleasant, I hear.'

He brushed shoulders with the captain as they passed one another. If Sakamoto was angry he did not show his displeasure. He asked Mika to join us, but she only stayed a few minutes before he whispered some words in her ear and sent her away. We left the bar soon after. Later, when I finally thought him done with me, there was a knock at the door. In that lost light between night and day, a woman entered the room and as she drew closer I saw it was Mika. I went to stand up but Sakamoto held my arm.

‘If you can make new friends, Amaterasu, so can I. That's only fair, don't you think? Are we still friends?' He smiled first at me and then Mika and moved the sheet from our bodies. ‘Well, little one, why don't you prove it?'

Oyabaka: This term refers to a parent who is so fond of his/her own child as to do a foolish thing for its sake. For example, some may buy their children every toy they show interest in, however difficult it might be financially. Many are willing to sacrifice themselves in their own way for the well-being of their children. Neither can those parents punish their children for any misbehaviour, although they often know that they should.

The first Tuesday passed and I did not go to the park, the second came and went and one more, but still I stayed away. Then one night at the bar a face from the not too distant past paid us a visit as Mika regaled the captain with some dirty joke that made her forehead shine with the telling of it. She stopped seconds from the punchline when a woman walked up to our table drunk and unsteady on her feet. It took me a while to realise this was Kimiko. The loss of the captain's patronage had taken a toll. Gone were the golden silk kimonos, replaced instead by cheap blue cotton. Her skin seemed pitted with dirt. Sakamoto said nothing but indicated that she should sit down. She fell into the seat next to me and all I could smell was stale alcohol and sweat. Mama-san was watching from her usual spot at the bar and the captain looked at her for a moment, some message sent and received.

The captain twirled his cigarette case on the table. ‘This is a pleasure, Kimiko.'

She snorted and poured herself a drink. ‘I'm sure it is.'

‘What brings you here?'

‘That's rich. I brought you here, or have you forgotten, little Tetsu? Little, little Tetsu.' She sang his name as she held up a finger and waved it in front of his face.

‘You should go home.'

She laughed at this. ‘Home? Home, you say. Where's home, Tetsu? Where's home, little, lying, little Tetsu?' She turned to me. ‘Is this why I'm homeless?' She shook her head and studied my face and laughed. ‘I know you. Little moth with the clogs. My, look at you now.' She took a drink and shook her head sadly. ‘I wonder who he has lined up to replace you?' She made an exaggerated survey of the bar. ‘Let me see, oh, what about her, Tetsu? No, you're right, too old. Who else?' She smiled at Mika, whistled and slapped her knee. ‘My, aren't you a big one?' She pointed at Sakamoto. ‘I never knew you liked them so large, Tetsu.'

Mama-san walked up to our table, her voice as melodic as a wood chime. ‘Dear Kimiko, so good to see you. It's been too long. We have had so many requests for your company. You've disappointed our customers with your absence.'

Kimiko closed one eye and looked at the captain. ‘Have you missed me, Tetsu?' She started to sob. ‘We had a pact, didn't we? We made promises, didn't we?'

Sakamoto stood up and gestured that Mika and I should do so too. Kimiko leaned back on the chair and drank, liquid dribbling down her chin. He bent down so their
heads were close but I could hear what he said. ‘Come to this bar again and I'll make sure you lose everything. You'll be so desperate you'll be spreading your legs for any diseased trash down the docks, if you haven't already.' He started to walk away and then stopped, spoke loud enough so everyone could hear. ‘You disgust me.'

He offered me his arm and, as we headed to the door, I looked back. I could see Mama-san sitting next to Kimiko, a hand on her shoulder. Outside, the captain signalled for his driver to fetch the car but I could not move. Sakamoto turned to me. ‘Amaterasu?'

‘What happened to her?'

His irritation flared up. ‘She expected too much, made too many demands. She grew tiresome. That's all.'

‘I see.' I found the courage to speak. ‘Will you grow tired of me too?'

He walked up to me, took my elbow. ‘Sweet thing, how could I tire of you?' His grip tightened but I did not move. ‘Amaterasu?' His voice was low, more a warning than a question.

‘Mika can entertain you tonight since you enjoy her company so much.'

He looked surprised and then angry. He grabbed my neck and pushed me against a wall. ‘Don't be so ungrateful. Let's go.' I rubbed my neck and a man caught my attention as he moved toward us. His face came into view under a street lamp. I thought for a moment to shake my head as a warning to keep walking but it was too late.

‘Amaterasu, what a pleasure. May I accompany you inside?'

The captain did not look round. ‘We're fine.'

Sato stood next to Sakamoto. ‘Here, the cobbles are a little slippery. Take my arm.'

I looked at both men and there in that dark corner of the city I made my decision. I squeezed past the captain, and returned to the bar with the doctor. If Sakamoto complained to Mama-san I knew I would be fired but in that moment, next to Sato, I did not care. I allowed myself to believe that he would be worth this recklessness. I went to find Mama-san but Karin said she had left with Kimiko, having taken a roll of banknotes from her money box. I turned to look at Sato, sitting in the seat the captain had just left. I felt relieved and nervous as I joined him. We sat cloaked in a silence thick with the unsaid words that bounced between us. The particles of air around our table seemed to have shifted, this atmosphere drawing us closer than the distance between our bodies suggested. He smiled, and I prayed he would not talk of the captain.

‘So, you must be famished?' I realised that yes, I was. ‘Well, let's drink up here and go for some food. We can eat and talk without –' he raised a hand and gestured at the bar – ‘all this pretence. Would you like that, Amaterasu?'

During our late supper, he asked me about my childhood and my guard almost down I hinted at the truth, testing him perhaps to see his reaction. At the end of the night he hailed a taxi and arranged to meet me the following week at the botanical gardens. This first visit to a park turned to many. I adored those days. I had never spent time with a man before nightfall. We strolled past children as they played with beanbags or tried to tickle pearl koi hiding under water-lily leaves. Sato and I had not so much as kissed but I took this coy courtship as a
sincerity of intent, a depth of attachment. All it indicated was patience. One day, while sitting on a stone bench, a picnic of bean curd and octopus laid out between us, he presented me with a box, smaller than my palm. Inside I found a brass key.

‘It opens a door to an apartment, well, more a couple of rooms, clean enough and discreet.' He looked around the park and just for a moment it seemed as if he might blush. ‘I thought it would be good to have somewhere private to go.' I picked up the key, held the lightness of it in my hand. ‘It's not far from here.'

Maybe Kimiko, Mika and Karin would have understood what the brass key meant. I chose to see it as an unspoken promise. As I slipped the box into my purse, I dared to imagine its worth was more than small grams of metal. Fate had brought him to the bar, had it not? How could he not be mine? We took a rickshaw to Chinatown past stalls selling steamed dumplings to a restaurant lined with a mural of swallows. The apartment was in the building above. A Western-style iron bed with a bare blue-and-white-striped mattress dominated the space next to a bamboo desk placed under the window with a pine chair. The kitchen was in the next room with a square table, scratched with use, and another chair. Sato watched me as I walked around. ‘It's basic, I know.'

‘The bathroom?'

‘Shared, down the hall.'

I nodded and that seemed to be all the reaction he needed. He walked up to me, put his hands on my waist where my obi was tied and laughed. ‘I have no idea how to get this off you.'

And so Sato became my new Sakamoto.

My nights at work, and Jomei's rounds during the morning, meant we could often only spend time together in the afternoon. I counted down the hours until we could be alone. Those rooms were my escape from the bar and from my mother, a place, finally, to call my own, even if we only spent a few hours there a week. I could not help myself. I filled the apartment with cream roses in crystal vases, found two framed pictures of a horse and a heron at an antique shop, bought fine white cotton bedcovers and a lamp made of stained glass. I was trying to create a home. For two months I felt as if I was succeeding. But then Sato arrived one afternoon as I was standing on a chair, trying to hang blinds in the bedroom. They were the palest blue with a print of pink blossoms covered in snow. I asked without thinking, ‘Can you help me?'

He looked at the blinds and then took in the rest of the room as if seeing it for the first time. He seemed annoyed and a chisel of worry tapped at my heart. ‘Leave it for now.'

I stepped down from the chair, walked toward him and kissed him on the cheek. He picked up a small carriage clock from the desk, a gift from Karin, and then put it down. Next to the clock, on a piece of scrap paper, I had written my name next to his surname and my heart pounded with shame. Had he seen it? He smiled absent-mindedly and seemed to remember something. ‘I forgot to say. I can't come on Friday. I have a lunch.'

‘Can't I come?' I smiled coquettishly. ‘I'll be on my best behaviour.'

He grabbed my waist and spun me around until I felt
giddy. ‘What would be the point of that? I don't want you on your best behaviour.'

He stepped backwards as he led me to the bed. I pulled free from his grasp, not out of petulance but worry. ‘Why can't I come? I know how to behave.'

He sighed. ‘The lunch is with a surgeon and his family. It's a formal invite. It will be boring.' He sat down on the bed and patted the mattress. ‘We only have two hours. Let's not spoil it.'

‘When can we go to lunch then?'

He groaned. ‘Soon. Isn't this place enough for us?'

I gestured at the room, testing him, perhaps. ‘Do you like it?'

‘Very pretty, like you.' He patted the bed again, smiled. ‘Come join me.'

I glanced at the clock, Karin's sweet gift. ‘Why don't I live here all the time?'

‘What's wrong with you today?'

‘The rent's paid after all.'

He looked around the room again. ‘I don't think it's suitable to live here.'

Perhaps I should have kept my own counsel but I suddenly, stupidly, had the need to explain why I bought those blinds, why I filled that tiny apartment, why I needed more than a brass key, why I cherished Karin's gift, and lastly, why I imagined what it would be like to be called Amaterasu Sato. ‘There's something I must tell you.'

He looked alarmed, as if he sensed what was coming. ‘Don't say it.'

‘What?'

‘There's no need. Don't you see that, Amaterasu? Just being here is what matters. Come here, let me show you how much being here matters.'

Did he know what I wanted to whisper to him? As I undressed for him, did he know the words I repeated in my head? I had practised them at home in the mirror, blushing even when alone. I clung to him, felt the hardness of his body against mine and promised myself that I would find the courage to say my secret incantation out loud to him soon.
I love you, Jomei Sato. I love you, Jomei Sato. I love you, Jomei Sato.
This is the truth I ached to tell him.