'You can't park here!' he shouted.
Shut up, asshole, she thought to herself, yet even the unspoken swearword sounded lame this morning. Shuffling back to her damp, forlorn Golf, she started the engine and pulled back into the stream of traffic. She had no idea where she was headed and no clue where to find a pay phone. Still, it hardly mattered since the traffic was nearly at a standstill.
What to do? She sighed, peering out through the fogged-up windshield. The broken defroster bothered her, but not nearly as much as her lack of a plan.
-
When she'd come home this morning from the factory, there had been no sign of Tetsuya who should have been asleep in the bedroom. Obviously, he was still mad after the fight they'd had last night and had decided to stay somewhere else. Well, what did she care? She'd be better off if a bum like that never came home. She had gone straight to bed and was just dozing off when the phone rang. It was still barely 7.00 a.m. and she sounded a bit grumpy when she answered.
'I'm very sorry to disturb you so early,' the voice on the other end said with exaggerated politeness, 'but is that Kuniko Jonouchi?'
'What do you want?' Kuniko muttered.
'I'm calling from the Million Consumers Centre,' the man said. Kuniko was suddenly wide awake. How could she have forgotten something so important? The man continued his well-rehearsed patter. 'I thought it might have slipped your mind, so I'm calling to remind you that your payment was due yesterday. I believe we still haven't received your deposit. I'm sure you're aware of the payment schedule: your fourth payment of ¥55,200 was due on the twentieth. If we do not receive payment today, you will incur a penalty fee and we will be sending around a collection agent. We would appreciate your immediate attention to this matter.'
The call was from a local loan shark. Kuniko had been hounded by creditors for several years, having run up large car loans and credit-card bills. Sometime last year she had realised that she wasn't even thinking of paying back the principal any longer but was just trying to keep up with the interest. Then even that began to prove difficult, and she started going to loan sharks to borrow against her pay-cheque. And now the loan sharks were after her and she had nowhere else to turn. Her debts had doubled in almost no time, and both the regular creditors and the loan sharks were threatening to blacklist her.
Things had got worse when she'd been stupid enough to believe the advertisements from a local 'credit agency'. 'Monthly payments got you down? Need cash in a hurry?' they had asked, and she had answered with an emphatic 'Yes' - the first step toward the current mess. A pleasant enough older woman had come to see her and, with nothing more than her driver's licence and the name of her husband's company, had handed over ¥300,000, a sum that had allowed her make the interest payments on her credit cards and pay-cheque loans. Kuniko had been too focused on just getting by for the moment to realise that this new debt carried a forty-per-cent interest rate. So when she'd scrounged the money from Tetsuya to repay it, the woman told her that the amount had already swollen to ¥500,000.
This meant she had to dig up some cash today. The can where they kept the money for household expenses had nothing in it but small change - when had that been spent? Beginning to feel a bit shaky, she took her fake Gucci wallet from her bag, but with pay day still a few days off, she only had a few thousand yen left. Her only hope was to try to find Tetsuya and get the money from him again. 'Where could he have gone?' she said aloud, flipping through her address book for his office number. She dialled the number, but no one answered - still too early. Even if she did get through, though, he probably wouldn't take the call. She was getting rattled now. If she didn't make the payment today, someone, a yakuza-type most likely, would pay her a visit. Despite her brassy looks, Kuniko was really quite timid, and the thing that scared her most at the moment was the thought of this man.
She shuffled into the bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of the dresser, looking for an old nest egg that just might still be hiding among the underwear and socks; but though she pawed through the bras and nylons, she came up empty-handed. Then, seized by a nasty suspicion, she began opening other drawers, only to discover that all of Tetsuya's clothing was gone. After last night's fight, he must have pocketed every last yen in the house and left home.
With sleep now out of the question, Kuniko jumped in her car and drove to the cash machine by the station. When she checked the balance on their joint account, it came up zero. More of his handiwork. At this rate, she wouldn't even be able to make the rent. She was almost pulling her hair out in fury as she headed back to the car.
Finally escaping the traffic, she turned left at a light and came to a row of older, one-storey municipal housing units. A brand-new telephone booth stood out against the dingy background. Pulling over, she jumped out of the car without bothering to take her umbrella and ran to the booth.
'Hello, is that Max Pharmaceuticals? I'd like to speak to Jonouchi in the sales department.'
The reply came as a shock. 'Jonouchi quit last month,' said the voice on the other end of the line. Kuniko had always thought of Tetsuya as a fool, an incompetent, but he had put one over on her. In a rage, she threw down the tattered telephone book and began stamping on it with her damp shoes, sending shreds of paper swirling around. Still not appeased, she slammed down the receiver with all her might. Shit! Shit! What should I do? They're coming today, and I've got nowhere to hide. She would have to ask Masako, she decided. Hadn't Yoshie just this morning been saying she was going to borrow money from her? So why couldn't she ask, too? If Masako refused, it would just prove what a cold fish she was. Since she was completely self-centred, Kuniko thought it natural that Masako would be willing to lend to her if she were willing to lend to anyone.
She slid her phone card back into the slot and tried dialling Masako's number, but the phone seemed to be broken now. No matter how many times she inserted the card, it came sliding back out. Clucking with annoyance, she gave up on it and decided to pay Masako a visit. Her house wasn't far away. Kuniko had been there once and thought she could manage to find it again. Climbing back into her car, she unfolded a large map and held it up with one hand as she pulled back on to the main road.
-
Masako's house was small, but it was in a neighbourhood of newer, made-to-order homes, which in itself made Kuniko jealous. Still, she thought, remembering how careless Masako was about her clothes, it couldn't be all that fancy. She took some comfort in this analysis, despite the fact that she was here to borrow money. Across the street, land that had recently been a field was being readied for construction. Kuniko parked in front of a mound of clay and walked toward Masako's house. A familiar bike was parked out front - the Skipper's. Immediately assuming that Yoshie had beaten her there for the loan, Kuniko was worried. Maybe Yoshie didn't have a payment due today, though, so she wouldn't mind letting her go first. That's how she'd put it.
She rang the bell on the intercom, but there was no answer. She rang again, but the house was quiet. Perhaps they've gone out somewhere, she thought, but Masako's Corolla was parked in front, and so was Yoshie's bike. Strange. Maybe they're both sleeping - the thought occurred naturally to Kuniko, who was herself short of sleep. But then she remembered that Yoshie was taking care of her invalid mother-in-law, and she would never allow herself to fall asleep at someone else's house.
Suddenly suspicious, she walked around to the back of the house, umbrella still in hand. Once she'd reached the garden, she could peek through the lace curtains into what appeared to be the living room, but it was dark and silent. There was a light on, however, at the far end of the corridor. Perhaps they couldn't hear the intercom that far back in the house.
Heading back toward the front, she circled the house again, this time in the opposite direction, and came to a window that seemed to be the bathroom. The light was on, and she could hear Masako and Yoshie talking quietly. What could they be doing back here? She reached through the metal bars and tapped on the window.
&
nbsp; 'Hey, it's Kuniko,' she called. The voices inside fell silent. 'I'm sorry, but I stopped by because I've got a favour to ask. Is the Skipper in there, too?' There was another short silence, before the window shot open and Masako peered out with an angry look on her face.
'What do you want?' she said.
'I want to ask a favour,' said Kuniko in her sweetest tone of voice, intent on winning over a hostile Masako and getting at least ¥55,200 out of her, plus a little extra to live on, hopefully.
'What sort of favour?'
'I'd rather not say right here,' said Kuniko, looking back over her shoulder at the neighbour's house just a few steps away. She was standing right in front of a small, half-open window that was probably also a bathroom.
'I'm a bit busy at the moment,' said Masako, not bothering to hide her irritation. 'Just spit it out.'
'Well,' she began, but then stopped, suddenly curious about what Masako and Yoshie could be doing in the bathroom. Catching a whiff of something faintly putrid, she sniffed noisily. As Masako slammed the window shut, she cried out 'Wait,' pressing desperately on the window frame, determined to make her case. 'I'm in trouble,' she called.
'Okay,' Masako said quietly, perhaps afraid of causing a scene in the neighbourhood. 'Go round to the front. I'll be right there.'
Kuniko was relieved that Masako had given in, but her interest had been piqued by something rather strange she'd seen in the instant before the window had been closed: it was almost certainly a piece of meat - and the thought made her heart jump. Whatever it was, it was huge; but if they were cutting up a side of beef or pork, why were they doing it in the bathroom? Masako's behaviour had been odd, and though Kuniko was sure she was in there, Yoshie hadn't shown her face.
She waited at the front door, but Masako didn't come for several minutes. Growing impatient, she walked back to the bathroom. Now she could hear the sound of running water; they seemed to be washing something, and they were talking again in low voices. By now, Kuniko was determined to find out what they were up to, all the more so because she thought it smelt of money.
She could hear Masako leaving the bathroom, so she hurried back to the front door and waited with an innocent look on her face. The door opened at last, though only a crack, and Masako peered out, dressed in a polo shirt and shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bundle, and she seemed somehow even more intimidating than at the factory earlier. Kuniko felt cowed by her.
'So what's up?' Masako said.
'Could I come in for a moment?'
'What do you want?' she snapped.
'I'd prefer not to say out here,' Kuniko said, as sweetly as she could.
When Masako reluctantly agreed to let her in, Kuniko stepped inside and looked around. The entrance hall was small but neat. As might have been expected with Masako, there wasn't a single flower or picture or decoration of any kind to be seen. 'So what is it?' she demanded, planting herself directly in front of Kuniko so that she could go no further nor see into the house. Kuniko had always hated the way Masako behaved with her, so high and mighty, and was thinking right then that maybe she hated Masako herself just a bit.
'Well, I don't know how to say this but I need to borrow some money. I forgot about a payment that was due yesterday and I'm flat broke.'
'What about your husband?'
'He took all the money we had in the house and left me.'
'Left you?' Masako echoed. As Kuniko caught sight of the way that her expression relaxed just slightly at this news, she was sure she hated her. Still, she couldn't afford to let her feelings show at the moment, so she looked meekly at the floor.
'Yes,' she murmured, 'and I have no idea where he's gone. I don't know what to do.'
'I see,' said Masako. 'So how much do you need?'
'Fifty thousand - but I could make do with forty.'
'I don't have that kind of money here. I'd have to go to the bank'
'Would you mind?' said Kuniko. 'I'd really appreciate it.'.
'I can't right now.'
'But you did it for the Skipper, didn't you?' she pressed, which made Masako frown uncomfortably.
'I need to know one thing - is there any chance you'll be able to pay me back?'
'Yes,' Kuniko insisted. 'I promise.' Masako fell silent for a moment, weighing the request, her hand wandering to her chin as she thought it over. Kuniko gave a start: there was something that looked like blood under her fingernails.
'At any rate, I can't do it today,' Masako said. 'I can probably help you out if you can wait till tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow's too late. If I don't make the payment today, they'll send their thugs to get it.'
'I'm afraid that's your problem.' Kuniko said nothing. She knew Masako was right, but she was always so cold-blooded about it.
Just then, Yoshie spoke up from behind them. 'I know it's none of my business, but I think you should give it to her,' she said. 'She's part of the group, isn't she?' Masako spun around to look at her, not bothering to hide her anger; but it didn't seem to be what Yoshie had said that upset her as much as the fact that she had shown herself at all. Yoshie was dressed just as she had been when they'd left the factory, but there were dark circles under her eyes and she looked even more exhausted. Certain now that the two of them were doing something they didn't want her to know about, Kuniko saw her chance to retaliate.
'What are you two up to, anyway?' she asked. Masako said nothing, but Yoshie looked away guiltily. 'What are you doing in the bathroom?'
'What do you think we're doing?' Masako said with a thin laugh. The look she gave her made Kuniko's skin crawl.
'I don't know...,' she murmured.
'Did you see something?' Masako asked.
'Well, I thought I did - a piece of meat maybe.'
'I'll show you what it is,' said Masako abruptly. 'Come on.' Yoshie said something that sounded like an objection, but Masako grabbed Kuniko by the wrist. As the firm grip closed around her arm, a part of Kuniko - the timid part - was seized by an urge to run away as fast as she could. But another part of her wanted more than anything to see what was in the bathroom, especially if it might involve money; and it was this part that was gaining the upper hand.
'What are you doing?' Yoshie said, pulling on Masako's arm. 'Do you think this is a good idea?'
'Don't worry. She can help us.'
'I'm not so sure!' Her voice was at first hesitant, then shrill.
'Help with what, Skipper?' Kuniko asked, starting to panic, but Yoshie didn't answer and just stared at the floor, arms folded, as Masako began dragging Kuniko down the passage toward the bathroom. When they reached the door, Kuniko caught sight of what appeared to be a human arm lying on the floor under the bright light, and she nearly fainted. 'What's that?' she gasped.
'Yayoi's husband,' Masako said, releasing her arm and lighting a cigarette. Remembering the dried blood under Masako's finger-nails and the foul smell coming from the window, Kuniko clutched her hand to her mouth, fighting back the urge to vomit.
'Why? Why?' she muttered. Maybe what she was seeing wasn't real. Maybe they'd set up the whole thing to scare her, like a haunted house.
'Yayoi killed him,' Yoshie said, sighing.
'But what are you doing to him?' Kuniko asked.
'We're cutting him up. Getting on with the job,' Masako said, as if explaining something obvious to a child.
'That's not a job!'
'It certainly is!' Masako said flatly. 'And if you want money as badly as you seem to, you can help us.' At the mention of money, Kuniko's mind shifted gears.
'Help you how?'
'When we get him cut up and put in bags, you can help us get rid of them,' said Masako.
'Just get rid of them?'
'Yes.'
'And how much would I get?'
'How much do you want? I'll talk to Yayoi. But it means you'd be in on the whole thing, and you can't tell anyone.'
'I understand.' As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Kuniko realised with bla
nk amazement that she'd been caught in the trap that Masako had laid to ensure her silence.
3
Yayoi Yamamoto opened her old red umbrella as she left the factory and got on her bicycle. As she pedalled away, she noticed that the light shining through the umbrella turned the bare skin of her arms a brilliant rose pink. It occurred to her that her cheeks probably had the same girlish glow. But in contrast to the rosetinted world that followed along with her at the leisurely pace of her bicycle, the rest of the world was a grimmer shade - the wet asphalt of the street, the trees on either side in their newish foliage, the tightly shuttered houses. Though the umbrella created a pink cocoon, her surroundings became more sinister and depressing. Somehow, this seemed like a symbol of her own life now that she had killed Kenji.
Yayoi could recall almost every detail of the murder; after all, she had done it with her own hands. Yet at the same time, the fantasy that Kenji had simply disappeared somewhere was beginning to take root, without her recognising how self-serving this version of things might be. It had been so long since Kenji had been a real presence in the house that it was easier for her to embrace a fantasy in place of the reality that she had murdered him.
The nylon umbrella was heavy now, having absorbed a good deal of rain, and she lowered her arm for a moment. As she did so, she watched the rose-coloured world vanish and the rows of familiar little houses revert to their usual aspect. The rain fell gently, soaking her face and hair. Yayoi was overcome with the sensation that she had somehow been reborn, and she could feel a certain courage beginning to stir inside her.
As she approached the cinderblock wall that lined the road at the entrance to her alley, she remembered how she had waited there for Masako the night before. She would never forget how her friend had simply accepted what she'd done and agreed to help her. She would do anything now for Masako - all the more so since Masako had also taken on the grim task of disposing of the body.
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