“What d’you mean you’re not going to buy the medicine!”
“Just who the hell do you think you’re dealing with, old woman?”
“I don’t care if you don’t sign, we’re still gonna come to your place every single day!”
The men’s voices pulled her back to that place and time, and seated on the special Silver Seat reserved for the elderly in the bus, she began to shake uncontrollably.
Yuichi finally came back home after eleven that night. As she heard the front door open, Fusae, in bed, felt relieved and called out, “I’m glad you’re back! You want to take a bath?” she went on. She hesitated to get up out of bed, which was just getting warm.
“Nah, I already took one,” she heard Yuichi say from beyond the sliding paper door.
Fusae eventually left her bedroom and followed after Yuichi into the kitchen. Her bare feet on the hallway floor were ice cold. Yuichi had taken some sausages out of the refrigerator.
“You must be hungry,” Fusae said.
“Not really,” Yuichi said, but he ripped open the plastic package with his teeth and crammed a sausage into his mouth.
“You want me to make something?”
“No. I already had dinner.”
Fusae called out to Yuichi as he was exiting the kitchen.
“What?” Yuichi said, annoyed, as he continued to gnaw on the sausage.
Fusae felt oppressed by the look on his face and she sank limply to a chair. She hadn’t planned to tell him, but the words just spurted out.
“The other day on the way back from the hospital… You remember the man who held the seminar at the community center?… The one about herbal medicine?”
This was her own house, and this was Yuichi with her, so she was safe, but still she was on edge, as if she would start shaking again at any moment. Just putting that experience into words frightened her. She had to force herself to breathe.
But just as she was going to continue, the cell phone in Yuichi’s pocket rang. Without a word to her, Yuichi answered.
“Hello?… Ah, yeah. Yeah, I just got back… Tomorrow?… I have to get up at five, but it’s okay… Yeah, me, too.”
As he turned the doorknob, Yuichi looked happy.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow… Huh?… Yeah, I know. Okay, then… What? I told you it’s okay…”
Fusae sat there eavesdropping. Just when the conversation seemed about over, it started up again. Yuichi took his hand off the doorknob, ran his fingers along the pillar, and turned over a page on the calendar that was pasted to the wall.
It had to be a girl on the other end, probably the person he spent the weekend with. Fusae had never seen Yuichi look so happy. Well, maybe he was happy at other times, but secretly, somewhere Fusae was unaware of. In the twenty years since she’d taken Yuichi in, she’d never seen him with such a look of utter bliss.
CHAPTER 4. WHO DID HE HAPPEN TO MEET?
Toward evening several groups of customers came in all at once. Mitsuyo took care of two men in their midtwenties. As they pawed through the racks of suits, their banter was like a comedy routine; from what Mitsuyo heard, she gathered that the shorter of the two had just had a successful interview for a new job and had dragged his friend along with him.
“I’ve always worn work clothes, so I’m kind of lost when it comes to choosing a suit.”
“Yeah, but usually when guys buy suits they bring their wives along.”
“Don’t be an idiot. If I bring her with me, she’s going to choose the cheapest possible outfit, from the suit to the shirts and ties.”
“So what? You’re planning to buy the top-of-the-line brand?”
“No, not really. Just something in the middle, you know?”
They went on, grabbing one suit after another from the rack and holding it up to see how it looked.
“They’re so young looking,” Mitsuyo mused, “but already married.” She kept her distance, patiently waiting for them to ask her something.
The floor manager, Kazuko, stood over by the fitting room, tape measure around her neck. She’d just finished a break and Mitsuyo had asked her if she had a little free time tonight. “Maybe we could go out for a drink,” she said.
Kazuko tilted her head at the unexpected invitation, then replied, “That shouldn’t be a problem. My husband’s going to be a little late tonight. But where should we go? How about that new kaiten sushi place next to the new bar, the Bikkuri?” Kazuko seemed unusually up for the idea.
Once they decided on a place, Mitsuyo was about to go back to her station, but Kazuko grabbed her hand. “You took last Saturday off,” she said with a grin, “so I was kind of wondering what was up… Any good news?”
“No, nothing really,” Mitsuyo said. “I just thought we hadn’t gone out for dinner in a long time.” She managed to get away, but couldn’t keep from smiling.
After leaving the love hotel on Saturday, she ended up spending the whole day with Yuichi. They’d eaten eel, and were planning to go to the lighthouse, but as they left the restaurant it started pouring so they gave up and went to another hotel.
On Sunday evening Yuichi drove her back to her apartment and they had one long last kiss in the car. That was two days ago, and Monday evening they’d talked for three hours on the phone. Tamayo had come back from work while they were still on the phone, so the last thirty minutes Mitsuyo sat on the staircase outside in the freezing wind.
Less than a day had passed since then, but she was dying to hear his voice again.
She looked up and noticed that the two-man comedy team was rummaging through the rack along the wall. The suits on this rack were three thousand yen more than the others and no extra trousers were included.
“Oh, I went to see that new movie Fishing Nut-the comedy,” one of the men said.
“By yourself?”
“No way. I took my son.”
“To that kind of movie?”
“Kids like them.”
“Are you kidding? The only kind my little one’s interested in are the anime specials.”
Though in their midtwenties, they acted more like college buddies. But here they were talking about their kids and picking out suits.
Mitsuyo watched them, amused. The men may have sensed her presence, for the shorter one turned to her and said, “Excuse me. Could I try this one on?”
His friend grabbed it away and teased him. “You gonna go with this one? Kind of looks like a host in a bar or something.”
The first guy, who seemed more easygoing, said, “You think?” and gave the suit another look.
“Why don’t you try it on?” Mitsuyo smiled. “It does have a certain shine to the fabric, but if you wear a white shirt with it it’ll look more subdued.”
Her advice seemed to give the man confidence again, and he strode over to the fitting room. His friend, like someone not really in the market for a suit, casually flipped through the price tags.
The suit was a perfect fit. Mitsuyo handed him a white shirt to see how it would look, and the combination went well, strangely enough, with his baby face.
“How do you like it?” she asked as the man turned from side to side, checking himself out in the mirror. His friend had sidled over and said, “You’re right. It really doesn’t look all that gaudy.” In the cramped changing room the man nodded in the mirror to Mitsuyo and his friend.
Mitsuyo took her well-worn tape measure from her pocket and measured the cuffs to see how much would need to be taken up.
When it rains it pours: there was one customer after another, not just browsing but actually buying, and she sold a number of suits.
The store finally closed for the day, and at the table next to the register Mitsuyo was going through the day’s sales receipts in the half-darkened floor. “This only happens on the one day we plan to go out for a drink,” she said.
Kazuko, herself with a fistful of receipts, said, “You got that right.”
Mitsuyo nodded a reply and checked th
e clock. Eight forty-five. By this time she’d normally have changed and be pedaling home on her bike.
“Is it going to take you much longer?” asked Kazuko, who had already finished sorting out her own paperwork.
“Give me another fifteen minutes,” Mitsuyo said as she flipped through the receipts.
“I’ll wait for you in the break room,” Kazuko said, and went downstairs. Mitsuyo was left alone on the half-lit, gloomy floor, her legs chilly now that the heat had been turned off.
Right then she heard the ring tone on her cell phone, which she’d left on the register stand. She reached for it, thinking it was Tamayo, but saw Yuichi’s name instead. Her thumb still stuck in the sheaf of receipts, she picked it up with her other hand.
“Hi, it’s me,” she heard Yuichi say. Looking around to make sure she was alone, Mitsuyo answered happily, “Hi! What’s up?”
“You still at work?” he asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Do you have plans today?”
“By today, do you mean right now?” Her happy voice echoed in the empty floor. “Aren’t you in Nagasaki? Did you finish work already?” she asked.
“I finished at six. I drove my own car to the construction site today, and was thinking about going to see you right after work.”
The signal was cutting in and out, as if he were driving already.
“Where are you?” Mitsuyo asked. Before she realized it she was standing, and her thumb had slipped out of the sheaf of receipts.
“I’m almost on the highway.”
“Highway? You mean the Saga Yamato?”
Mitsuyo glanced toward the window. From the Saga Yamato interchange it took only ten minutes to get here. She sat back down. “I wish you’d told me sooner you were coming,” she pouted happily.
They agreed to meet in the parking lot of the fast-food place next door, and Mitsuyo hung up. An almost painful thrill of joy shot through her as she thought of Yuichi coming to see her so unexpectedly on a weekday night.
As she quickly checked the receipts, she could picture Yuichi’s car whizzing down the streets. With each receipt she stamped, she felt his car get that much closer.
She rushed through her receipts in five minutes. She turned off the rest of the lights on the floor, and as she ran into the locker room on the first floor she found Kazuko there, already in street clothes, pouring a cup of strong-smelling dokudami herbal tea from the thermos she always carried with her.
“That was fast.”
“Uh… yeah.” For a moment Mitsuyo was at a loss for words. She hadn’t forgotten about their plan to go have a drink, but things had changed so quickly she hadn’t had time to formulate an excuse.
“What’s the matter?” Seeing Mitsuyo so flustered, Kazuko was worried.
“Well, it’s just…”
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“No, nothing. I just, ah, had a phone call…”
“Phone call? From who?”
Mitsuyo still faltered. She wanted to tell Kazuko of her change of plans, of meeting Yuichi, but somehow the words wouldn’t come.
Kazuko watched Mitsuyo carefully. “How about we go next time? Any time’s fine with me.” A meaningful smile crossed her lips.
“Sorry,” Mitsuyo said.
“Your boyfriend decided to come see you all of a sudden, is that it?” Kazuko smiled, unfazed by the abrupt change of plans. “I was pretty sure you had a boyfriend. I mean you took a day off on the weekend, and you’ve been floating around with this happy look on your face the last few days.”
“I’m really sorry,” Mitsuyo apologized again.
“Don’t worry about it… So, is he from Saga?”
“No, from Nagasaki.”
“He suddenly decided to come all the way from Nagasaki? I guess this isn’t the time to go out for a drink with me! Come on, you’d better change.” Mitsuyo was standing there like a statue and Kazuko gave her a friendly pat on the rump to get her moving.
After Kazuko had left and Mitsuyo was alone in the locker room, she hurriedly changed out of her uniform. As she was changing, her cell phone rang with a message from Yuichi. I’m here, it said.
Glad I wore the leather jacket today, Mitsuyo thought. The down jacket she usually wore had a dirty collar. That morning she’d pondered whether to wear it one more day before sending it to the cleaners, and had decided against it.
This was the same leather jacket she’d worn when she met Yuichi that past weekend. She’d bought the jacket a year ago, when she and Tamayo had gone shopping in Hakata. She’d hesitated over the price-¥110,000-but in the end had decided to go ahead and splurge.
She locked the locker room, handed the key to the night watchman, and left by the back door. The cold wind whipped at her feet and she pulled her muffler tight. The huge parking lot was a sea of white lines, and beyond the fence was the fallow field and a steel pylon.
She turned and saw the familiar white car parked next to the fast-food place. The place wasn’t crowded and Yuichi’s car, polished to perfection, was the only thing sparkling under the streetlights. Mitsuyo walked along the highway, hurrying to the parking lot next door.
As she entered the parking lot, the headlights of Yuichi’s car came on. He must have been watching her all the way over. Mitsuyo gave a small wave to the dark interior of the car. As she got closer Yuichi snapped open the passenger-side door from inside. As soon as it opened, the interior light flicked on and she could see him, still dressed in his work clothes.
“I’m freezing,” Mitsuyo said, shivering as she hurried inside and sat down. She hadn’t met his eyes as she did, and the car again was dark inside. “Did you really come straight from work?” she asked, turning toward him.
“If I’d gone home first I’d have been even later,” Yuichi said, turning up the heater.
“You should have called me sooner.”
“I was thinking of it, but figured you were still at work.”
“If I couldn’t see you today what were you gonna do?” she teased.
“If I couldn’t see you, I guess I’d just go home,” he answered solemnly.
Mitsuyo placed her hand on top of his, which was resting on the gearshift. It may have been his work clothes, but this time, the car smelled old and dirty.
The car stayed for a time in the fast-food-restaurant parking lot, and didn’t move. Meanwhile, three other groups of customers had exited the restaurant and driven off. No other cars replaced them, and as the number of cars decreased it felt as if only theirs was left, like a small boat in a vast sea.
Minutes passed and Mitsuyo’s fingers remained entwined with his. Wordlessly their fingers spoke to each other.
“You have to go to work early tomorrow?” Mitsuyo asked as she gripped his middle finger. On the highway beyond the fence a car sped up.
“I get up at five-thirty,” Yuichi said, stroking her wrist with his thumb.
“Doesn’t it take about two hours from here to Nagasaki? We don’t have much time.”
“I just wanted to see you…”
The digital clock on the dashboard showed 9:18.
“You have to go back, right?” Mitsuyo asked.
The thumb stopped stroking her. Yuichi paused. “Yeah. If I don’t go back tonight, I’ll have to get up at three,” he said, forcing a smile.
I wanted to see you so much. I just had to see you, so I drove here right from work. Yuichi didn’t put it into words, but his fingers conveyed this message clearly as he stroked her wrist.
They could go to a love hotel now and spend a couple of hours together. But then he’d have to drive back to Nagasaki. That meant he’d get home around one a.m. Even if he went to sleep right away, Yuichi would have to go to his exhausting job with only four hours of sleep.
Two hours is fine, Mitsuyo thought, as long as I can be with him. But I want him to get as much sleep as he can, too-even an extra hour.
“If only my sister weren’t at home…” Mitsuyo surprise
d herself. She’d never thought of her sister as a bother before. She’d always worried instead about when Tamayo would be back.
“You want to go to a… hotel?” Yuichi asked. He seemed hesitant, as if worried about tomorrow morning.
“But if we go to a hotel it’ll be really late when you go home.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Yuichi’s fingers on top of the gearshift tensed.
“Nagasaki and Saga are so far away,” Mitsuyo murmured. “No… that isn’t what I mean,” she quickly added, shaking her head. “It’s not that… It’s just that you came all this way and I wish we could spend more time together.”
“It’s a weekday. Nothing we can do about it,” he muttered resignedly. He sounded cool about it, and Mitsuyo couldn’t help but say, “You’re so serious, you know that?”
“I can’t take a day off. It’s my uncle’s company.”
“But it’s hard for me to get Saturday off. It’s almost impossible for me to get two days off in a row like last time.” She sounded a bit miffed and the instant she said that Yuichi’s fingers went limp.
He came to see me, Mitsuyo thought. He didn’t come all this way just to be told that we don’t have time to see each other. He drove two hours to see me, after doing his backbreaking job.
“You want to park next door?” Mitsuyo tugged at his fingers. “The store’s closed and there won’t be any other cars. We can talk for a while. If you park behind the building, nobody can see you from the road.”
Yuichi glanced over the fence toward the darkened menswear store, and quickly released the parking brake.
“Hold on a second,” Mitsuyo hastily added. “You probably haven’t had any dinner. Let me buy you something.”
“No, I had some udon at a rest area. I couldn’t wait,” Yuichi laughed.
He drove out of the fast-food-restaurant parking lot and over to the lot behind Wakaba. Behind the store it was dark, the only light an illuminated billboard for makeup in the field beyond the fence.
“Next Friday’s a holiday, so I was thinking of going to Nagasaki. Just a day trip,” Mitsuyo said. The car had come to a halt and Yuichi’s hands were resting on the steering wheel. He suddenly reached out and placed his hot hand on her, stroking her earlobe and neck. Without a word, he kissed her. For a second, Mitsuyo was taken aback, but before she knew it he was all over her. She closed her eyes and let him have his way.
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