***
His flesh was cold to touch, the contrast heightening her awareness of the temperature of the first warm, salty tear. It travelled down her cheek, slowly at first and then rolled over her quivering lips. Drawn between them by surface tension, the taste of the salty tear spread evenly along them. She was numb, nothing more than a cold and objective realization that he was not alive occupying her thoughts, suppressing for the moment the outpouring of barely controllable emotion that she was temporarily able to contain. She touched his hair and entertained the idea that his spirit was lingering and watching her. She glanced at his body. He was leant forward in a kneeling position, upright with his arms slumped to the side, a wire wrapped around his neck. The wire supported his weight and was stretched out from the top of the weights bar of his exercise table, suspending him in an upright position. His head was cocked to one side, expressionless, motionless—neck broken. She focused on his eyes, glazed and still. Suddenly she snapped into an abrupt sense of reality, the gravity of which began to grow in her mind, larger and louder. A typhoon of emotion overwhelmed her as Mark walked into the room. She burst into tears, gasping for breath as she sobbed erratically.
He looked around the room. It was spotless. Jon's laptop was on and displaying a message. Dazed, he walked over and noticed that it was from Alison to Jon's 'in-box'. It read:
"Jon, I can't be with you. You've changed too much and I know you will never get out of Japan. I don't love you any more, please forget me."
Mark didn't read any more, nor did he browse through Jon's account. It was sacred, now, as the events could not be erased. It belonged to Jon. A keitai denwa was placed in a full glass of water on a desk in Jon's room. The room itself seemed cold and there was a disturbing sense of some kind of presence. He walked over and placed his hand on Kimberly's shoulder as she sobbed, face down on the tatami mat floor. She gradually rose as Mark embraced her then hugged her as hard as he could. A salty tear rolled down his cheek and fell back to earth.
Finally releasing each other, Mark took out his keitai and made a call to Kenichi.
Epilogue
Mark stayed that night at Mike's apartment. Kenichi had taken over the organization of Jon's affairs out of a sense of obligation, as the death occurred at the house that he owned. Still, he wasn't exactly communicative and he made it clear that Mark's business association with him was over. Kimberly stayed with Marley that night. She managed to deal with Alison, who was pretty much in shock, but after that Mark and Mike didn’t hear from Kimberly or Alison again—they just sort of disappeared.
Mark and Mike drank beer that night and speculated into the early hours of the morning as to whether it was murder or suicide. Mark did manage to contact Kenichi a couple of days later and found that the official police version of events was suicide. They didn't keep in contact. The investigation was conducted by local police, probably the young policeman at the koban at the end of the shotengai. According to Mike, not much was made of the death in local foreigner circles. He heard that people were nervous talking about it. With no job and no reputation, Mark drifted for a week or so, using Mike's apartment as a base before deciding to leave Japan for good. Mike was happy to get a text from him a couple of months later. He was in Papua New Guinea, working for an aid organization and he was happy. He found the job through one of Mike's contacts in Australia. Kaori was glad to hear that he was doing OK.
***
I dedicate this ebook to my old friend
JON GOOD, ESQ.
Oppressor of Champions
Soldier of Fortune
World Traveller
Bon Vivant
All Round Good Guy
International Lover
Casual Hero
Philosopher
A legend in his own time
Wars Fought
Bears Wrestled
Equations Solved
Tigers Castrated
Orgies Organized
Bars Quaffed Dry
Governments Run
Test Rockets Flown
Gene Pools Enriched
User Friendly
Trends Set
Cigars Savored
A man for all seasons
Charlatans Unmasked
Part-Time Oracle
Vaccines Proven
Rest in peace my friend.
Memoirs of a Vending Machine Page 10