So, how will you fulfill this dream of yours?
Two things: study and save.
For the next five years, learn everything you can about economics and finance. In particular, focus on securities and real estate. To do this justice, you’ll need to quit your day job. In the meantime, you may as well keep working as a hostess.
You’re going to save up to purchase property. The closer to Tokyo, the better. Land, apartments, houses, anything is fair game. It’s okay if it’s on the smaller side or old and dingy. Just make sure you’ve purchased something by 1985. This isn’t for you to live in.
In 1986, Japan is going to enter a period of unprecedented economic growth. Real estate will skyrocket across the board. Sell what you’ve bought and use the profit to buy something more expensive. This, too, will increase in value. Do this over and over and invest the money in stocks. Here’s where your education in securities comes in. Between 1986 and 1989, you can’t go wrong with any of the major brands.
Equity memberships for golf courses are another promising investment. The sooner you buy in, the better.
There’s just one catch: You will only see good returns from these investments until 1988 or 1989. Things are going to change dramatically in 1990. Even if it looks like prices are still rising, you must liquidate everything. It’s like the card game Old Maid. Timing makes all the difference between success and failure. Just believe me and do it.
After that, the Japanese economy is going to tank. Whatever you do, get out of investing. Nothing good with come of it. Use the money you’ve made to start some kind of business.
By now, you must be pretty skeptical. How can I be so certain about what’s going to happen in the years ahead? Does this guy think he can predict the course of the Japanese economy?
Yes. Unfortunately, I can’t explain why. You probably wouldn’t believe me even if I did. Think of me as a very good fortune-teller. Whatever floats your boat.
With that, allow me to predict some things a little further down the line.
I mentioned the Japanese economy will fall apart, but that doesn’t mean there’ll be no room for hopes and dreams. The 1990s will offer you a chance to make it big on a different kind of business.
All over the world, computers are going to become a necessity of life. Pretty soon, every household, then every person, is going to have one. These computers will be connected over a huge network, and people all over the planet will be able to share information instantly. Everyone will have portable telephones, and before long, all these phones will be connected to this network of computers.
You must get involved as soon as possible in an industry that capitalizes on this network. This will be essential to your success. You could use the network to advertise for companies or stores, or to sell products directly. The possibilities are endless.
It’s your choice whether to believe me. But don’t forget what I said in the beginning. I don’t have a single thing to gain from tricking you. I sat down and thought seriously about how I could help you live the life you want to live. This is the best I could come up with.
I wish there was more I could do. But we’re already out of time. This will be our last correspondence. I won’t be able to receive another letter.
It’s up to you whether to believe me. But I want you to believe. I’m praying from the bottom of my heart that you’ll believe me.
—Namiya General Store
Harumi was dumbstruck. The letter was more than she had bargained for.
This was a prophesy. And it was brimming with certainty.
From where she stood in 1980, the Japanese economy was nowhere near an upswing. The damage from the oil shock had yet to run its course, and even college graduates were struggling to find work.
But according to this letter, the country was due for unprecedented economic growth in just a matter of years.
She simply couldn’t believe it. He had to be pulling her leg.
But there was truth to what he had written before. There was no way lying about all of this could benefit Mr. Namiya.
This letter didn’t stop at prognosticating the economy. It made all sorts of suppositions about the future of technology. No, supposition made it sound as if these were theories. The letter read like a list of cold, hard facts.
Computer networks and portable telephones—this was not the world she knew. True, they were only twenty years shy of the twenty-first century. She would probably see all kinds of technologies become an everyday reality, even innovations she’d previously only dreamed of. But the letter sounded like something from an anime or a sci-fi novel.
Harumi fretted the whole day. By night, she had fretted herself out and sat down at her desk. She pulled out some stationery and wrote another letter. It went without saying that she was writing to the Namiya General Store. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be able to reach him, but it was still September 13. As long as she got there before midnight, maybe she would have a chance.
The letter said she wanted to know what he was basing his predictions on. Even if it was going to be hard to believe, she wanted to know. Once she did, she could decide what to do next.
A little before eleven, she tiptoed out of the house and pedaled through the night to the store.
When she arrived out front, she checked her watch. It was only five minutes past eleven. She was safe.
But she was barely a few steps off her bike when she got a good look at the building and stopped dead.
She knew, right then and there, that it was all over.
The otherworldly aura that previously enveloped the store had dissolved into the night. Before her was nothing more than a general store, out of business and unremarkable. Harumi couldn’t explain why she was so certain. But her confidence was unshakable.
This letter was not going in the mail slot. She climbed onto her bike and rode home.
About four months later, she confirmed that she had made the right decision. Home for New Year’s, Harumi had gone with Shizuko to a neighborhood shrine for her first visit of the year. Shizuko had found a job, starting in the spring at the corporate headquarters of a big-name supermarket. Which meant fencing would not be among her responsibilities. She said she was done competing.
“But you worked so hard,” Harumi lamented. Shizuko shook her head and smiled.
“I took fencing as far as it would go for me. When I was training for Moscow, I gave it everything I could. I think that up in heaven, he understands that.” Shizuko looked up at the sky. “It’s time for me to start thinking about the future. I want to make a good impression at the company, but once I’m settled in, I’ll find myself a good man.”
“A man?”
“Yep. I’m ready to get married and have a healthy baby.” Shizuko laughed mischievously and made that signature wrinkle above her nose. Her smile showed no trace of the sadness of losing a lover in the past year.
What a strong woman. Harumi was impressed.
On their way home from the shrine, Shizuko exclaimed “Oh yeah,” as if she’d just remembered something. “Do you remember last summer how I said there was this funny little store that gave out free advice?”
“Sure,” Harumi responded nervously. “Namiya, right?” She hadn’t mentioned their exchange to anyone, not even Shizuko.
“Yeah. Well, they closed for good. Its elderly owner passed away. I saw a guy taking pictures out front and asked what happened. He said he was the old man’s son.”
“Wow. When was that?”
“October. He said his dad had died the month before.”
Harumi gulped. “So, September?”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“What day?”
“He didn’t say. Why?”
“Oh. Just asking.”
“The store itself closed down when he got sick, but he kept on giving out advice. What’s crazy is I think I must’ve been the last one. The thought of it makes me get kind of emotional.”
No, it was me; I was th
e last one. As much as Harumi wanted to say it aloud, she held back. It occurred to her the old man had probably died the night of September 13. He must have said that was the last day he could communicate with her because he knew that would be the last day of his life.
If this was true, and the old man had predicted his own death, it meant his powers of clairvoyance were not to be discounted.
But that would mean…
She felt her imagination dilate and expand.
What if the last letter was all true?
6
December 1988.
Harumi was sitting in a room decked out with oil paintings, ready to sign a bill of sale for a certain property. The past few years, she’d been through this rigmarole countless times. Six-figure purchases barely fazed her anymore. This particular property wasn’t even that expensive. Nevertheless, she felt a nervousness she was not prepared for. She’d never been so emotionally invested in purchasing a piece of real estate before.
Wearing a two-piece suit from Dunhill that would have been a steal at two hundred thousand yen, the agent turned to face Harumi. His skin was the color of whole wheat; she figured he must frequent tanning salons.
“As long as there are no objections, please sign here and stamp your seal on this line.”
They had borrowed a room at the Shinjuku branch of a major bank, one that her company used to take out its loans. Apart from the man in Dunhill, who served as mediator, she was joined by Hideo Tamura and Kimiko Kozuka, the sellers of the property, along with Kimiko’s husband, Shigekazu. Kimiko had turned fifty the year before. Her hair was showing streaks of white.
Harumi looked at each of the sellers. Both Hideo and Kimiko hung their heads. Shigekazu, disconsolate, refused to look at anyone. What a sorry excuse for a man, thought Harumi. If you have a problem, at least have the balls to glare at me.
She took a pen from her bag. “No objections.” She signed and stamped the form.
“Thank you very much for your time,” said the Dunhill man. “That just about wraps things up. Congratulations.” He gathered up the documents, looking quite satisfied with himself. And why shouldn’t he be? It was a quick job, but it earned him a tall fee.
Both sides took their copies of the forms. Shigekazu scooted back his chair and stood. Kimiko was staring down at the table. Harumi extended her hand. Kimiko was taken aback.
“We’re finished. Let’s shake on it.”
“Oh, okay.” Kimiko squeezed her hand. “Uh, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” laughed Harumi. “There’s no need to apologize. Everyone benefits from this.”
“I guess. I mean, that’s true, but…” Kimiko wouldn’t look her in the eye, either.
“Hey,” barked Shigekazu, “come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“All right.” Kimiko nodded and turned to her mother. Her eyes were lost.
“Don’t worry about Auntie,” Harumi said. Even though Hideo was her great-aunt, she’d always called her that. “I’ll take her home.”
“Really? I might just take you up on that. Is that okay with you?”
“I don’t mind either way,” said Hideo quietly.
“Okay, then. Take care, Harumi.”
Before she could say “You too,” Shigekazu was out the door. Kimiko, a little penitent, nodded once and followed after him.
Outside the bank, Harumi walked Hideo to her BMW, parked in a nearby lot, and drove her home. But strictly speaking, the house was no longer Hideo’s. The Tamura family residence was now Harumi’s property. The contract they just signed made it official.
Her great-uncle had died of old age that spring, leaving this world on a futon soaked with urine. Hideo’s extended tenure as his caregiver was finally over.
The question had been on Harumi’s mind since she first heard that he hadn’t had much time to live. What would happen to the house?
The Tamuras had once possessed a number of assets, but the house was the only one they had left.
Real estate prices had been rising in Japan for three years straight. Located two hours from Tokyo, the Tamura house was a bit out of the way, but the property was plenty valuable. Which meant Kimiko and especially Shigekazu had their eyes on it. Those two had fallen back into some shady dealings, but it didn’t look like things were going well.
It was the day after they participated in another Buddhist service for her great-uncle, forty-nine days after his death. Kimiko called her mother, as if on cue. She was hoping to discuss the inheritance.
Kimiko proposed that since the house had been her father’s only asset, they could split it down the middle. Since they couldn’t cut a building in half, they’d transfer the deed to Kimiko, who would have an expert appraise the property and pay Hideo for her half. Hideo could, of course, continue living there, but she would need to pay rent. To make things easy, Kimiko could deduct the rent from what she owed Hideo. Everything would even out.
The deal was legally sound and at first glance even sounded fair, but when Harumi heard Hideo explain it, she smelled something fishy. The end result would be Kimiko seizing total control of the property without paying a thing to Hideo. And Kimiko could sell it out from under her anytime. This wasn’t some random tenant. It was her own mother. There were plenty of ways to get her out of the house. If she took that route, she would be obligated to pay Hideo for her portion of the property, but she must have known that her mother wouldn’t take her to court if she tried to pay it off piecemeal.
Harumi didn’t want to think that this wicked plan had been hatched by Hideo’s own daughter. Shigekazu must have been behind it.
Harumi proposed Hideo and Kimiko become co-owners of the property, which she would buy from both of them. They would split the money down the middle, and Harumi would let Hideo go on living in the house as usual.
When Harumi explained her plan to Kimiko, Shigekazu remonstrated, as expected. “What’s wrong with what we proposed?” he asked.
But Hideo had this to say: “I think it’s best for everyone if Harumi buys the house. I hope you can excuse me for being so selfish.”
Shigekazu had no rebuttal. He hadn’t had any right to speak in the first place.
Once Harumi had driven Hideo back to their house, she opted to spend the night. She would need to head out early in the morning. Her company was closed on Saturdays, but she had to focus on executing a big project. She was presiding over a party cruise around Tokyo Bay. Some holiday revelry for Christmas Eve. The two hundred tickets for it had sold out almost instantly.
Lying on her futon, Harumi gazed up at the familiar markings on her ceiling and lost herself in reverie. She still couldn’t believe that this house was hers now. It was a different feeling from what she felt when she purchased her apartment.
This purchase was not intended as a real estate investment. When Hideo passed away, she would hold on to it in one form or another. Maybe she’d use it as her second home.
Everything was going splendidly. So much so that it was frightening. It almost felt as if someone was protecting her.
Well, it had all started with that letter.
She closed her eyes, and those unique words appeared before her. That last mysterious letter from the Namiya General Store.
The letter was too much to handle all at once, but after much deliberation, Harumi had resolved to follow its advice. No other plan of action came to mind. She had realized she couldn’t bet her livelihood one the likes of Tomioka, and no harm could come from studying economics.
She quit her day job and started taking classes at a technical college. During any extra time she had, she studied stocks and real estate and obtained a handful of certifications.
At night, she worked harder than ever as a hostess, but she resolved to be out of the industry in seven years. By giving herself a self-imposed expiration date, she became more focused than ever. There was an almost comically proportionate return on how much effort she put in at the club. In no time, she had more regulars than any of the ot
her girls and registered an all-time high in sales. Tomioka stopped coming after she rejected him, but she easily accounted for the loss. Later, she found that his claim to have had a hand in setting up a number of businesses was hyperbole at best. A few people had asked for his opinion, and that was the extent of his contributions.
In July 1985, Harumi threw her hat into the ring. Over the course of a few years, she’d amassed over thirty million yen in savings and finally coughed up the cash to purchase an apartment. It was an old building in Yotsuya. There was no way it was going to go for any cheaper, and she made the purchase knowing she’d face no major financial losses.
A few months later, economies the world over suffered seismic upheaval. Because of the Plaza Accord, the yen appreciated, and the dollar took a nosedive. Harumi had goosebumps. The Japanese economy depended on its export industries. If the yen continued to skyrocket, the country could plummet into a depression.
By now, Harumi was dabbling in stocks. She knew if the market slumped, the value of her stocks would fall. How could this be happening? It was the complete opposite of what the Namiya General Store had predicted.
But things did not take a turn for the worse. Facing a slump, the Japanese government issued an easy money policy and pledged to increase its investment in public enterprises.
Then in the summer of 1986, she got a call. It was the real estate office who had brokered her first apartment. “It appears you haven’t moved in yet,” they noted, “but we’re just calling to see if you have any plans to do so anytime soon.”
Harumi responded vaguely. The agent said that if she was interested in selling, they would like to buy it back.
It was happening. The real estate market was on the rise.
She said she wasn’t interested and hung up. Instead, she went straight to the bank. She wanted to see how much she could borrow with her apartment as collateral. Later that week, when they called her in to talk about the numbers, she was flabbergasted. The property was worth 50 percent more than what she paid for it.
The Miracles of the Namiya General Store Page 25