Her body tensed and pressed closer to his, her breasts cushioned against his chest. He nudged her legs apart and rolled on top of her.
“Libby, I … ” His voice was ragged with emotion. “When I asked you to join me I didn’t think you would accept the invitation. And when you did, I, I didn’t know what it would be like or if … I had no idea it would be so wonderful. I assumed … ” Kojiro had had other lovers, he assumed it would be like all the other times he had made love.
“I can’t explain it,” he said. “I don’t have the words, not in English, not even in Japanese.”
Libby smiled up at him. “Perhaps it is the dosojin.”
“Hai,” he laughed. “They are very powerful gods.”
It was as good an explanation as any.
Eventually, Libby and Kojiro ventured out of the hotel to eat breakfast and to go sightseeing. Kojiro insisted that she could not possibly return to Misawa without having seen the ice sculptures. “It is why you came,” he said solemnly as they were boarding the subway train.
“It is not why I came,” Libby retorted.
“Ah, well, what I meant … Most people come to see the sculptures and I don’t want you to miss them.” Kojiro had assumed his public image once he emerged from her room. He was not as starchy looking as usual, but neither was he as relaxed and attentive as he had been when they were alone. Her ardent lover had metamorphosed into a tour guide.
“Sapporo is the largest city on the island of Hokkaido with 1.7 million people,” he said proudly. Libby could believe it. And she was sure the entire populace was crowded along the wide boulevard bisecting the downtown. The huge park, which paralleled Odori Koen, was swarming with people of all ages buying food and drinks or purchasing souvenirs at the colorful vendors stalls. Rosy-cheeked children hurtled laughing down slides made of ice.
The sculptures themselves, some of massive proportions, ranged in subject matter from the whimsical to the sublime. There was a towering statue of Godzilla, glaring menacingly at a three-tiered ice pagoda, Mickey and Minnie Mouse, hand in hand, in front of a replica of Cinderella’s castle. It reminded Libby of the love hotel with its turrets and drawbridge, which in turn, reminded her of her disastrous first date with Kojiro and the subsequent developments which had culminated in this trip to Sapporo. A shiver of excitement at the memory of their intemperate love-making stopped her dead in her tracks. Her heart started to pound and she felt herself perspiring despite the freezing temperature.
“There are also over 3,000 bars and cabarets in Sapporo and it is supposed to have the liveliest nightlife of any city north of Tokyo.”
“Kojiro?” She tugged at the sleeve of his jacket.
He smiled down at her.
“Let’s go back to the hotel.”
“Are you cold?” He asked. The wind had picked up and the temperature was noticeably cooler than when they set out.
She shook her head.
“Then why?” Libby reached up and brushed his cold cheek with her glove.
“Guess,” she whispered in a husky voice.
Kojiro’s eyes widened in surprise and pleasure at her impulsive suggestion. “But we haven’t seen all the sculptures,” he said uncertainly.
“Well, if you’d rather … ”
“I’d rather go back to the hotel,” he interrupted. It was hard to tell if his complexion was scarlet from the biting wind or from embarrassment. He glanced at his watch.
“Captain Comerford!”
Swinging around in surprise at hearing her name called out in a loud Texas drawl, Libby found herself confronted with a grinning Sergeant Vogel, one of the squadron’s airplane mechanics.
“Sergeant Vogel … ” Her voice faltered and she glanced around to see if he was alone. He wasn’t. There were several other airmen from the base standing a few feet away. From the looks of them, they had obviously been enjoying all the festivities.
“Isn’t this just something,” he said, waving a hand in the direction of Godzilla.
“Yes. Yes, the sculptures are amazing.”
“I made reservations six months ago to come to Sapporo for the Ice Festival but I didn’t think I was gonna make it what with the ORI … . When did you get here, ma’am?” He glanced at Kojiro who had managed to disengage himself from Libby’s side and wander over to a souvenir stall.
“Yesterday,” she said.
“Have you been to the Sapporo Brewery?”
“Not yet, but I bet you and your friends have,” she said.
“Twice. You don’t want to miss it, ma’am.” Sergeant Vogel kept looking over at Kojiro and then back at Libby trying to figure out, just what, if anything, was going on between the beautiful captain and the Japanese dude. They were obviously together. He had seen Captain Comerford tugging on the man’s sleeve and smiling up at him. The look in her eyes was as unmistakable as it was troubling. With her looks and personality, she could have her pick of any eligible man on base. It was common knowledge in the squadron that Captain McKay was crazy about her. Why would she go and date a foreigner?
“When did you say you got here, ma’am?” He asked again. She could have just met the guy in some bar, he thought. But that was not the impression he got when he saw them together. Anyway, he couldn’t quite picture the captain bar-hopping in the bustling Susukino district.
“I arrived yesterday,” she said, glancing over at Kojiro. Sergeant Vogel had seen them together. She couldn’t very well pretend she was alone in hopes that he wouldn’t mention having run into her when he returned to Misawa. She wasn’t anxious for news to get around that she was spending the weekend with Kojiro but she wasn’t sorry she had come and she wasn’t ashamed of him or of their relationship. Of course, Kojiro wasn’t any more anxious than she to have their friendship gossiped about and if General Sato got wind of it, the repercussions would probably be more serious for him than for her. But if they cared for one another, they would have to face the consequences of their behavior. They couldn’t continue seeing each other in secret. It made what they were doing seem shameful. And that was not the way it was.
“I flew up to meet a friend and to see the ice festival.”
“Kojiro,” Libby called. She saw him flinch when she said his name, but after finishing paying for some souvenirs, he joined her and the sergeant. “Major Yoshida, I’d like you to meet Sergeant Vogel. He’s one of our favorite crew chiefs,” she said.
“How do you do?” Kojiro’s formal reply and stiff handshake precluded further conversation and Sergeant Vogel soon bade Libby a hurried good-bye and rejoined his companions.
“That was a surprise,” Libby said, as she watched the Americans disappear down the boulevard. “I didn’t expect to run into anyone I know in this enormous city.” But Kojiro, who hadn’t bothered to hide his displeasure at meeting the sergeant, ignored her remark and taking her by the arm steered her through the crowd, toward the subway.
“It is definitely time we went back to the hotel,” he laughed as they squeezed aboard the train. The car was packed with revelers and they stood crushed together, swaying in rhythm as the train sped along the tracks.
“Crowded trains in Japan are notorious,” Kojiro said, smiling. “Unscrupulous men are known to take advantage when no one can possibly see what they are doing or identify who is doing it. The women are always complaining to the authorities … .”
Libby shook her head. It wasn’t hard to see how it could happen and yet despite their suffocating proximity, the passengers all seemed indifferent to one another. She would have sworn the man standing to her right, and whose briefcase was jabbing into her ribs, was sound asleep. Every time the train stopped he awoke with a start, but as soon as the doors closed, he nodded off.
“It would take a lot of dexterity,” she said. “Under the circumstances.”
“It would.”
Two teenage girls were staring at Libby and giggling and making comments about her height and blonde hair. Kojiro frowned at them and they giggled and looked away.
Libby managed to undo the zipper part way on her coat. “It’s so warm,” she said. “I feel like I’m on fire.” The train lurched to a stop and Kojiro was shoved so close she could hardly breathe. She could feel his legs pressed against hers, his chest crushed against her breasts. And then his hand — at least she hoped it was his hand — stealing under her sweater.
She bit her lip, and tried to assume the same impassive expression as the other passengers but with great difficulty. Every time Kojiro squeezed her breast her body shuddered with pleasure.
“I see what you mean about unscrupulous men,” she breathed. “Taking advantage of unsuspecting … ah, women.”
Kojiro’s face was flushed and beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. “It is shameful,” he said through clenched teeth.
“How much farther to the hotel?”
“One more stop.”
ALAS! the blush upon my cheek,
Conceal it as I may,
Proclaims to all that I’m in love,
Till people smile and say —
‘Where are thy thoughts to-day?’
Taira No Kanemori
Chapter Seven
Libby returned to Misawa the next afternoon. The gray, gloomy weather matched her mood as she let herself into her apartment. She turned on all the lights to try to cheer herself up but the empty rooms aggravated her loneliness.
It was only natural, she told herself, to feel let down after such an extraordinary weekend. She was emotionally drained, physically exhausted, and ravenously hungry. They had been too preoccupied to eat properly and subsisted the entire two days on junk food and snacks Kojiro had smuggled into the hotel. It was too much trouble to get dressed and go out. They didn’t have time to waste at fancy restaurants when all they wanted to do was to be together. How many times had they made love? Surely Kojiro must have set some kind of endurance record, she thought. His energy was indefatigable.
She had held her own pretty well. All her worries about making love to Kojiro had vanished the minute he took her in his arms. Not only did their looks complement one another, but so did their intimate feelings, their desires. She knew instinctively how to please him. And he in turn, his passion, his tenderness was such a transforming emotional experience, Libby doubted that she would ever be the same.
So why was she feeling so miserable, if everything had been as wonderful as she recalled? Because although Kojiro never stopped telling her how much he wanted her, he had never mentioned love, that was why. Never referred to the future. She thought it odd, even at the time, that he hadn’t commented one way or the other about meeting Sergeant Vogel. But she had dismissed her misgivings in her eagerness to get back to the hotel and assumed that they would talk about it later and decide what to do. But the subject never came up again. When he put her on the airplane, he bowed and shook her hand and told her he would be in Tokyo for several days and would call when he got back to Misawa.
An hour before, they had been locked in a passionate embrace on the floor in her hotel room. He had cried out her name when he climaxed. But no one observing them in the airport would have guessed that they were anything more than casual acquaintances. Perhaps it was just as well.
Libby sighed. Kojiro said he would call when he got back. She would have to be patient.
Work was a great distraction. Flying was an even better one. There was a welcome break in the weather and the squadron resumed its flying mission. Airplanes took off around the clock in a concerted effort to make up all the wasted hours spent on the ground watching the snow blowing across the runway. Libby was so busy she hardly had time to think about Kojiro and, as she had not had occasion to see Sergeant Vogel, had completely forgotten about running into him in Sapporo. Until Charlie happened to mention it.
She had just settled down for a mindless hour in front of the television set watching a rerun of Mad Men on the Armed Forces Network when Charlie knocked on the door.
“Libby-san?” For some reason it annoyed her when he called her that and she was tempted to say she was too busy or too tired for company, but she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Charlie lately and she missed him. He was still her best friend. The feelings she had for Kojiro had not changed that.
She got up and let him in and offered to fix him a bowl of vegetable soup but he had already had dinner at the club. He looked tired. Not his usual happy-go-lucky self. His signature smile, which he flashed when she opened the door, looked artificial.
Libby cleared her Japanese workbooks off the end of the sofa and made a place for him.
“Sit down and put your feet up. You look bushed.”
“Yeah. It’s been a grueling week. The winters are long, up here in Michinoku,” he said as he retrieved one of the workbooks off the coffee table and thumbed absently through the pages.
“You’re still taking Japanese lessons, I see.”
Libby nodded.
“So you can talk to your boyfriend I guess.”
She made a silly face to try to deflect the comment but Charlie was not about to let her off so easily.
“The one in Sapporo.”
“He speaks English,” she said evenly.
“That must make it easier then.”
“My Japanese is very rudimentary. We’d have a very difficult time communicating if he didn’t.”
“And from what I gather, the two of you don’t have any trouble on that score,” he said.
Libby glanced at the television screen. It was preferable to looking at the agonizing expression on Charlie’s face. She switched off the set with the remote control.
“Apparently Sergeant Vogel didn’t waste any time filling you in with all the gory details.”
“He thought I should know.”
“Know what? That I was taking a walk in the park with a Japanese man, admiring the ice sculptures.”
“You went up there to meet him, didn’t you, Libby? You spent the weekend with him.” Charlie didn’t wait for her answer, he was too agitated. He got up and started pacing back and forth in front of the television. “How could you, Libby? How could you go off with a … ” He was too polite to articulate the ethnic slur that came to mind. “With a, a foreigner?” It didn’t have quite the impact that he intended but Libby didn’t seem to appreciate the distinction. “What’s his name? How did you meet him, for Christ’s sake?”
“His name is Kojiro Yoshida. He’s a major in the Samurai Squadron,” she said. “I met him the day I flew with Colonel Long and General Sato.”
“But I love you, Libby,” he said, as if his declaration would make everything all right and restore the normal order of things.
“You just think you love me,” she said. “You’ve been telling yourself that for so long you believe it, Charlie. But for love to thrive and to grow, it has to be reciprocated.”
“Do you love this, this Yoshida fellow? Does he love you?”
“I don’t know,” she answered.
Charlie slumped down on the sofa and buried his head in his hands. “Did you sleep with him?” He asked. He didn’t really want to know, didn’t think he could bear the thought of the two of them making love when Libby had successfully eluded him for so long, but he couldn’t prevent himself from asking.
Libby had never lied to Charlie before and she wasn’t about to begin now, but she didn’t want to hurt him any more than she already had. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said coldly.
“Of course not.” He tried to sound like he meant it, but he failed miserably. He had his answer.
Charlie reached out, took her hand, and cradled it in his. “Well at least he’s a fighter pilot,” he said. �
�I’d have never forgiven you if you’d fallen for a ground-pounder.”
“Oh, Charlie,” she sighed.
Kojiro was tempted to call Libby while he was in Tokyo. He longed to hear her voice, to reassure himself that nothing had changed since she returned to Misawa. When he thought about the tempestuous weekend they had spent together, sometimes he couldn’t believe it had actually happened — that he had had the nerve to ask her, and that she had actually accepted, or that she had given herself to him so freely and unconditionally. He felt like he was living in some kind of dream — a surreal world, the boundaries of which were the walls of the hotel room where he and Libby had made love.
It wasn’t that Kojiro didn’t have enough to do in Tokyo to keep him busy but he found it hard to concentrate on all the details required of a general’s aide. General Sato was on the go from morning until late at night attending one meeting or reception after another. Kojiro had lost count of how many boring speeches he had had to sit through, or interminable dinner parties.
The general attributed Kojiro’s inattentiveness to anxiety over his impending marriage. “It’s only natural,” he laughed. “Once you’re married, your life will return to normal. Just think how nice it will be to go home at night to a tasty supper and have your wife draw your bath and warm your bed.” But Kojiro could not imagine his life ever returning to normal again, let alone sharing it with a woman he did not want to marry. And yet he continued to make plans for just such an eventuality. On a romantic impulse, Kojiro scribbled a poem by Hitomaro on a note card and dropped it in the post to Libby.
Long is the mountain pheasant’s tail
That curves down in its flight;
But longer still, it seems to me,
Left in my lonely plight,
Is this unending night.
But he did not call her. He rang Motoko twice, and when she suggested she could meet him in Tokyo, he agreed to see her. “I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble getting up here. I’m tied up most of the time.”
The Unquiet Heart Page 10