yourself at Mount Fuji.’ He gulped his gin. ‘Tell me what kind of work you did for Mikoto.’
‘He would contact me with a task and I would do it.’
‘Hired muscle? Did you hurt people? Did you get blood on your hands? Is that why you had a gun barrel parked in your mouth?’
‘He set me up. I was out of choices. But I’m not sure I would have pulled the trigger.’
‘Well, don’t feel bad about it. Smokers put deadly little things in their mouths every day. Anyway, it’s remarkable that I should meet someone like you in the forest. I must admit I am aware of your friend Tokin’s existence and if he ever becomes a target, I’ll give him to you. That in itself is a good reason to keep away from the cliffs, don’t you think?’
‘Yes,’ said Taro.
Nobunaga detected his doubt. ‘Tokin talked just as tough, right? Well, I’ll stop talking then. Tomorrow I’ll show you something. Namie will be coming too.’
‘The girl in first class?’
‘Yes. Namie is her name. Pulling her out of the forest felt like a fatherly action. I sense you two will be a good influence on each other. I could even picture you together. Why not? Two people with the curse of wanting to die might just not have met each other yet.’
Taro didn’t say anything but despite the pain, he felt good inside. He wondered if he really would have pulled the trigger in that forest. He simply couldn’t be sure. He had just been going through the motions until that point, heading towards what seemed an inevitable conclusion. But wasn’t it at the end of the world that you found a sunrise? Wasn’t it a poet that said that? Of course, probably many. Because that was what poetry was all about. And Taro was certain he would never go back to that forest again. Something had changed. He was becoming something different now.
He held up a hand and it was the flight attendant with the bunned hair that came. He ordered a beer, gazing into the glassy blackness of her eyes.
Nobunaga noticed his reaction and admired her form as she walked away. ‘Apologies, but it’s the other flight attendant I’ve arranged for you to have dinner with tonight. I didn’t want you being left in Naha entirely to your own devices. And it may be too soon to attempt sipping cocktails with Namie. Her last encounter with you was pumping pills from your stomach while you were kicking and squirming. Let’s give that moment an opportunity to fade before we consider formal introductions.’ He slipped an envelope into Taro’s seat pocket. ‘This will get you through the evening. Don’t go saving your affections for a bank account. That’s not how we live in Okinawa. There’s an address and a business card in there as well. Is this the kind of thing you were doing with Tokin Mikoto?’
‘Pretty much,’ said Taro. ‘Without the business cards.’
‘I believe in business cards. It gives people a purpose. To see their name on a quality piece of paper with a title to go along with it.’
‘Can I show it to her?’
‘To whom?’
‘The flight attendant. At dinner.’
‘You can but she already knows your position: you’re with me.’ Nobunaga smirked. ‘And do not ask me whether or not she would consider that a good thing. What I have learned about astute women is that no matter how much you tell them, they will still know more than you.’ He idly gazed out the window across the beautiful topaz waters of Okinawa.
48
Taro was enjoying his quiet moment alone in the bar: it was a final opportunity to wonder why he was still alive before the flight attendant arrived. He was feeling fresh. At the airport he had changed the grey shirt under his black suit for another grey shirt, and he had brushed his hair. A dried leaf had come away onto the comb’s bristles - it must have been from Aokigahara Woods. Taro still had it with him at the bar, and he twirled it in his fingers over and over. He would never need another souvenir in his life.
The flight attendant with the short hair sat down in the next barstool to his. She was dressed young in a black miniskirt and immaculately ironed white t-shirt. She wore heavy black eye shadow and glossy pink lipstick. Taro was starting to suspect she was in disguise; nonetheless, her smile was disarming.
‘Did I keep you waiting?’ she said. ‘A girl wants to look her best when she drives a corvette.’
‘A corvette?’
She dangled the keys. ‘Nobunaga’s car. He likes American. Are you going to be offended if I tell you that’s why I’m here? I’ll show you the island if you like. It’ll be the first class flight you missed out on in coming to the island. And this time you’ll know your flight attendant’s name.’
‘What is it?’
‘Mia.’
‘I’m Ichiro.’ It was the first time Taro had used the name and he realised it would take a lot of getting used to.
‘Nice to meet you, Ichiro.’
‘Would you like a drink before we start?’
‘That’s kind of you. You could be a flight attendant yourself. But no, thank you. And I don’t want the peanuts either.’ She touched Taro on the arm. ‘Are you ready?’
The bar was in a downtown side street. The elegantly contoured blue corvette was parked out front. Taro figured driving it on Naha’s busy roads would be akin to trundling a greyhound in a one bedroom apartment. The intense look on Mia’s face, however, prompted him to put his seatbelt on. In the next moment they were flying. Weaving a hair-raising path through Naha’s traffic, the corvette aggressively muscled its way onto the first stretches of open road; it hugged the south coast before tearing westward. Mia’s touch on the steering wheel was light and precise and her gear changes effortless.
Taro was comfortable and relaxed. If there was any kind of life that was truly carefree, it surely belonged to survivors.
‘You’re not worried about the cops chasing us?’ he queried, letting the tone of voice assure her that he was merely making conversation.
‘The cops wouldn’t bother chasing a car like this,’ Mia replied invigorated, ‘because they know they can’t catch it. And besides, there’s only one blue corvette on the island and they know who it belongs to. The tough new laws have pushed the yakuza further underground, which means the police rely more than ever on them policing themselves. The police keep the law. And Nobunaga keeps the order. Everyone seems happy enough with the arrangement.’
Taro let the conversation die. He left Mia to the road. She used it to lap the island, hugging the coastal roads wherever she could, but otherwise tearing along any road that presented itself. The lights of houses came in clumps and were separated by long stretches of dark, shadowy landscape. The sky above was clear with the stars and moon beautifully aglow. Somewhere amidst the hills of volcanic rock at the northern tip of the island, Miha looked contentedly at Taro. ‘The village I’m to drop you off at is a few kilometres back down the road. We can u-turn or wait for the next road that goes that way.’
‘I’m in no hurry,’ said Taro with a shrug.
49
‘Counting the clicks on the tachometer I’d say you really did get to see the island,’ said Nobunaga. ‘Every square inch of it. I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece.’ He swivelled the fine china coffee cup in its saucer. ‘With those kilometres and our speed limits, you should technically still be driving.’
‘I wish I still was,’ said Taro.
Nobunaga nodded in understanding. ‘But roads alone don’t take you anywhere.’ He waved a hand at the superb view out the coffee house window: the pier lined with fishing boats, the placidly rolling waves of the harbour, the white sand glaring under a hot sun. ‘Like the fishing boats and yachts you have found shelter here. This is our village. If you choose to stay, you will be given a new identity and a place to sleep. Not an old inn like last night but a real home.’
‘Last night I slept very well. Ryokans have a charm to them.’
Nobunaga shrugged. ‘When you are old, you will be welcome to retire here. If you need a rest, you will be able to work on board one of the fishing boats. Such a simple life will keep your head straight.
If you work for us and do a job well, you will be helping this village as well as yourself. We work together, just the way life used to be in the old feudal days. That’s okay, isn’t it? This is not an ugly city like Tokyo. People die in Tokyo but they do not die for Tokyo. Here is different. We get sun and we get storms and there are poisonous snakes in the grass.’
‘And there are no trains?’
Nobunaga gave Taro a curious glance. ‘There’s a monorail, my young friend. It’s not much to speak of.’ He sipped his black coffee.
Taro looked at him speculatively. ‘Were you born in this village?’
‘Or was I once rescued from a forest, too?’ Nobunaga returned his cup to the saucer and spun it some more. ‘It is hard to be young. To be valueless, unwanted. When I saw you in the forest, I saw something of how I used to be. There is a feeling within me that I will never reconcile with. When I was young my spirit was a blazing fire, but now it just smoulders down deep.’ He smiled and slapped Taro on the arm. ‘But in that forest the fire was ablaze again. You were quite a handful. Did you enjoy my great kicks?’
‘Not really,’ said Taro, rubbing the lump on his head.
‘You were contemplating worse.’ Nobunaga jumped up to the window, gesturing at the harbour view with a flourish. ‘I have this to offer you, Ichiro. So, it was my obligation to hit you as hard as I could.’
‘If I am to be this Ichiro you keep calling
Weeds in the Jungle Page 25
