The Miracles of the Namiya General Store

by Keigo Higashino

  To all who requested advice from the Namiya General Store:

  On September 13, from exactly midnight until daybreak, the advice box of the Namiya General Store will be reopening for one night only. We kindly ask that anyone who has ever asked for and received advice to give us your unfiltered opinion. How did it affect your life? Did you find it useful, or was it useless? Please leave your letters in the mail slot in the shutter, just like old times. We look forward to hearing from you.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “No idea, but it says they’re doing this because September 13 is the thirty-third memorial service for the old man. Someone in his family set this up.”

  “Wait, what?” Kohei hurried over. “What happened?”

  Shota handed the phone to Kohei. “Hey, Atsuya. You know that’s today.”

  Atsuya had realized, too. On September 13, from exactly midnight until daybreak—in other words, right now. They were in the thick of it.

  “Wait, so they actually advertised that they’d be giving out advice again?” Kohei blinked repeatedly.

  “That must be why all this weird stuff is happening. It has to be. Today is a special day. The present is communicating with the past.”

  Atsuya rubbed his face. The specifics were beyond him, but he sensed Shota’s description was on point.

  He looked at the back door, which was ajar. It was still black night.

  “If the door’s open, we lose connection with the past,” said Shota. “There’s still some time left before daylight. What should we do, Atsuya?”

  “Do…?”

  “We might be screwing things up, you know? What if the door should have been shut the entire night?” Kohei got up and shut the back door tight.

  “What are you doing?! Open that.”

  Kohei turned around and shook his head. “It’s gotta be closed.”

  “Why? If it’s closed, time basically stops. You wanna be in here forever?” Atsuya had an idea. “Know what? Let’s shut the door. Only let’s shut it behind us. That solves everything. We won’t be screwing things up anymore. Right?”

  But neither of the other guys motioned to agree. They were crestfallen.

  “Come on. You got something else to add?”

  Finally, Shota spoke up. “I’m gonna stick around. You should go, Atsuya. You can wait outside or get a head start.”

  “I’m staying, too,” chimed in Kohei.

  Atsuya scratched his head. “Stay and do what?”

  “It’s not about what we’re going to do,” said Shota. “We just need to see this through. To see what else happens to this weird house.”

  “Do you understand anything about what’s going on? In an hour, the sun’s gonna come up. An hour out there is days on end in here. Are you telling me you’re gonna sit through that with nothing to eat, nothing to drink? I don’t think so.”

  Shota looked away. Maybe he knew that Atsuya was right.

  “Give it up,” said Atsuya. But Shota didn’t reply.

  Soon after, they heard the shutter rattle. Atsuya and Shota faced each other.

  Kohei jogged out into the store. “It’s just the wind again,” Atsuya yelled after him. “It’s just banging in the wind.”

  Eventually, Kohei loped his way back, empty-handed.

  “Told you. Just the wind.”

  Kohei trudged back, but when he got closer to Atsuya and Shota, he dropped his act and reached behind him.

  “Ta-daa!” He produced a white envelope. It must have been in his back pocket.

  Atsuya was getting sick of this. Things were getting downright silly.

  “This can be the last one, Atsuya,” urged Shota, gesturing at the envelope. “We’ll respond to this one and get out of here. Promise.”

  He sighed and sat down at the table. “Let’s read it first. It might be something that’s way too much for us.”

  Kohei carefully tore open the seal.

  2

  Hi, Mr. Namiya,

  I’m writing because I’d like to ask you for advice about something.

  I graduated from a vocational high school this year and started at a company in Tokyo in April. I didn’t go to college because of some stuff happening at home. Basically, I wanted to start work as soon as possible.

  But right after I started at the company, I started doubting that this was the right decision. This company only hires girls straight out of high school to do chores around the office. All I do each day is brew tea, make copies, and rewrite documents that the men at the company drafted in their crummy handwriting. Easy work. Anyone could do it. Even a middle schooler, or an elementary schooler who knew enough words. I never get that sense of satisfaction from a good day’s work. I have a Class Two Bookkeeping license, but I never get to put my skills to use.

  The company is under the impression that the only reason women take jobs is to land themselves husbands, and that once they find a suitable one, they’ll marry him and quit. Since they only let us do simple tasks, they couldn’t care less about our academic background. Let’s just say the bar for that is pretty low. They want a steady turnover of women to give the men plenty to choose from. It’s in their interest to pay the women almost nothing.

  This isn’t why I took this job. I want to be a financially independent woman. I’m not remotely interested in being some throwaway.

  I was at a loss for what to do, but one day someone approached me on the street and asked me to work at their bar. It was a club in Shinjuku. The man was a scout for the nighttime entertainment industry, and he was hunting for new hostesses to charm customers at a hostess bar.

  From what he told me, the conditions would be unbelievably good. A whole other level than my day job. Things sounded so good that I started thinking there had to be some kind of catch.

  He asked me to come by to check it out and hang. I thought why not and went. I have to say, it was a culture shock.

  I had associated the words club and hostess with a sort of shady atmosphere, but what I saw was a glamorous wonderland for adults. The girls were working the floor. Far from sitting around and looking pretty, they seemed to be strategizing, even teaming up, to please their customers to their utmost abilities. I wasn’t sure I could handle this, but I felt like it was worth a try.

  That’s when I started working days at the company and nights at the club.

  I used to just go home after work, but now I head to the club to work again. I’m actually nineteen, but I told them I’m twenty. The hours are tough on me physically, and handling the customers is harder than I thought, but it makes the day worthwhile. And financially, I’m far better off.

  But after about two months, I started having doubts. Not about working as a hostess, but about staying at the company. Since there was little hope of ever doing more than busywork, there was no good reason to kill myself to stay there. Plus, if I quit and went full-time as a hostess, I’d see a huge improvement in my savings.

  I haven’t told anyone I know that I’m in the industry. I’m also worried that if I quit the company out of nowhere, I’ll leave a mess behind me.

  But I feel like I’m finally doing the work I want to be doing. I’d be so grateful if you have any advice on how to help those closest to me to understand my position and how to quit my day job on good terms.

  Thanks for your help!

  —Dubious Doggy

  Atsuya snorted. “Oh, great. Can you believe this shit? This is the last letter we’ve got to respond to?”

  “She’s in for it,” said Shota smugly. “She’ll learn. There’s always gonna be girls who go in for that kind of work, thinking it’s going to be glamorous.”

  “I bet she’s really pretty,” deemed Kohei. “She got scouted on the street, and it only took her two months to make a solid living.”

  “Sounds like she’s got a new admirer. Snap out of it. Hey, Shota, write her back.”

  “What should I say?” He readied the pen.

  “You know, talk some sense into her
. Rough her up. Get her head out of the clouds.”

  He puckered his face. “Does it have to be rough? This girl’s only nineteen.”

  “For a dummy like her, you need to be a little harsh, or it won’t sink in.”

  “I know what you’re saying, but let’s maybe take a softer approach.”

  Atsuya clucked. “Grow a pair.”

  “If we’re too harsh on her, she’ll snap. Something I think you can personally relate to.”

  Here’s what Shota came up with:

  Dear Dubious Doggy,

  Thanks for the letter.

  I’ll be blunt. You should quit the club. That’s no life for you.

  Yeah, yeah, I can understand the appeal of making way more money than you would working at some office job, and more easily, at that.

  You’ve made it into a world of luxury, and it’s only natural that you’d want to stay.

  But it won’t always be this easy. You’re still so young. It’s been a good two months, but that isn’t long enough to comprehend how hard it’s going to be. You’ll have all kinds of men for customers, and no shortage of them will drool all over you. You think you’ll be able to brush them off? Or will you just give up and let them all do what they want? That’s no way to treat your body.

  How long do you plan to do this hostess thing full-time? Until you’re how old? You say you want to be an independent woman, but once you reach a certain age, no one’s going to want to hire you.

  What comes after that? Are you hoping to open your own club? In that case, best of luck. But don’t expect running your own business to be a breeze.

  Don’t you want to marry someone someday and start a family? If you do, then listen up and quit while you’re ahead.

  If you keep on working as a hostess, who do you suppose you’ll marry? One of your customers? Just what percent of your customers do you suppose are single?

  Let’s not forget your parents. I doubt they raised you and put you through school only for you to enter this line of work.

  What’s wrong with being a throwaway employee? You’re part of the company, you get paid without doing much of anything, and you can’t walk into a room without everybody noticing. And once you marry some guy from the company, you never have to work again.

  What’s wrong with any of that? It sounds awesome.

  In case you weren’t aware, Ms. Dubious Doggy, there are tons of guys out there who can’t find work and don’t know what to do. Those guys would gladly make tea or whatever else for half the wages that they’re paying girls right out of high school.

  I’m not writing this to bust your chops, okay? This is for your own good. Take my word for it. I’d listen to me if I were you.

  —Namiya General Store

  “Yeah, this seems like the right tone to take.” Atsuya nodded approvingly at the letter. Of course, if it were him, he would have given her an earful.

  Her folks put her through school, she finally finds a decent job, and then what? She becomes a hostess. What was she thinking?

  Shota went out to drop their answer in the milk bin. He came back in and shut the door behind him. There was a faint rattle at the shutter. “I’ll get it,” he said and ran out into the shop.

  He came back grinning. “Got it!” He flapped the envelope in the air.

  To the Namiya General Store,

  Thank you very much for your timely response. I was relieved, since I was worried I might not hear from you.

  But when I read your letter, I knew I had made a few mistakes. I think we’ve had some miscommunication between us. Perhaps I should have been more forthcoming about the particulars of my position.

  I’ll have you know that I did not decide to devote my time to working as a hostess to fuel some decadent lifestyle. What I want is financial independence. That means having the resources to live life on no one’s terms but my own. I don’t think I’d ever get there if I stayed on at that company.

  Second, I have no plans to marry. I’m sure having children and becoming a housewife offers its own kind of happiness, but that’s not the life for me.

  And I think I have a pretty good idea of how hard life in this industry can be. Looking around at my coworkers, it’s easy to imagine the hardship that awaits me in the years to come. I took this route aware of that. And yes, I’m hoping to have my own club someday.

  I believe in myself. I’ve only been at it for two months, and I already have a bunch of customers who favor me. But there’s only so much I can do for them. The main reason is that I’m still working my day job. I can’t get to the club until the early evening, which leaves no time to join them for dinner. That’s another part of why I want to quit.

  Let’s clear something up, though. This seems to be bothering you, the idea that I’m sleeping with these men. Well, I haven’t. Not even once. I’m not saying I haven’t been propositioned, but I know how to ward them off. I’m old enough to handle that.

  My legal guardians will be concerned when they find out. But in the long run, I’m doing this for them so that I can pay them back for all they’ve done

  I wonder if you still find me so naive.

  —Dubious Doggy

  PS. I was asking for advice on how to explain my work life to my friends and family. I have no plans to leave the industry. If you don’t agree with my lifestyle, please disregard this letter.

  “Let’s ignore it,” suggested Atsuya. He held up the letter. “What’s this crap about believing in herself? She better get ready for the real world.”

  Kohei was despondent as ever. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Wait, though,” Shota said. “What this girl’s saying isn’t so far off. If a woman wants financial independence, working at a club will get her there, and fast. She knows the deal. Money is everything. Without it, you’re nowhere.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that,” Atsuya spat. “You’re right, but things aren’t gonna go the way she wants them to.”

  “And why is that, exactly?” Shota asked. “How do you know things won’t work out for her?”

  “Because things don’t work out for most people,” he explained. “Sure, she’s hot shit now and could probably open up her own club, no problem, but plenty of shops close six months after opening. A business isn’t easy to get going. It’s hard building that momentum. You need money to start, but money isn’t enough. It’s easy for her to write to us and say she’s gonna do it, but words are words, and she’s just a little girl who doesn’t understand the world yet. Once she’s neck-deep in this lifestyle, she’ll give up on all of this. But when she comes to her senses, it’ll be too late to catch up. She’ll have missed her chance to marry, and she’ll have aged twice as fast from working as a hostess. By then it won’t do any good to wish she’d done things differently.”

  “Yeah, but she’s only nineteen. She doesn’t have to worry that far ahead.”

  “That’s exactly why she has to worry.” Atsuya raised his voice. “Because she’s young. Write her back and tell her to cut the shit. She’s gotta quit the club and find some eligible bachelor at the company.”

  Shota stared down for a few seconds at the stationery on the tabletop and began to shake his head. “No, I want to encourage her. This girl didn’t ask us for advice for kicks.”

  “It’s not about how serious she is. It’s about living in the real world.”

  “I think she’s being pretty realistic.”

  “Think so? Let’s make a bet. On whether she succeeds as an entrepreneur. I’ll bet that working as a hostess, she’ll get tangled up with some shitty dude and wind up as a single mom and an all-around pain in the ass.”

  Shota gulped his next words down. His head hung heavier than ever.

  A leaden silence fell over the room. Even Atsuya’s eyes were on the floor.

  “Hey,” started Kohei. “How about we ask her?”

  “Ask her what?” Atsuya replied.

  “To explain. I don’t think either of you is wrong, bas
ed on this conversation. Let’s ask her how serious she is about her plan and go from there.”

  “Of course she’s gonna say she means it. She takes herself so seriously.”

  “We could ask her for some details,” Shota offered. “Like if there’s a reason she wants to be financially independent, and how come she thinks marriage wouldn’t make her happy. Oh, and we could ask about her specific plans for starting up her business. Like Atsuya said, it isn’t easy. If we ask her and she can’t come up with decent answers, then I’ll agree that her dream is unrealistic, and we can tell her she should give up working as a hostess. Deal?”

  Atsuya sniffled and nodded. “I don’t see what good it’s gonna do, but sure, go ahead.”

  “Here I go,” said Shota, and he took up the pen.

  As Shota filled the lines with text and paused to think before starting each new sentence, Atsuya watched and meditated on the last thing he’d said: Working as a hostess, she’ll get tangled up with some shitty dude and wind up as a single mom and an all-around pain in the ass. That was what happened to his own mother. Shota and Kohei had held their tongues because they knew that things were getting personal.

  Atsuya’s mother had him when she was twenty-two. His father was a younger guy who worked at the same club as a bartender. Right before she gave birth, he left without a trace.

  Stranded with a nursing baby, Atsuya’s mother continued working as a hostess. She probably had no other prospects.

  In a few of his earlier memories, his mother had a man around. But Atsuya didn’t see him as a father. Eventually, he disappeared, and not long after, another man was staying in their apartment. His mother gave the man money, since he wasn’t employed. As time passed, he vanished, too, and another man came in. They came and went in cycles. Then came the worst of the lot.

  This one beat up Atsuya for no reason. Well, maybe he had his reasons, but none that Atsuya could comprehend. Once, Atsuya got punched in the face because the man said he didn’t like the way it looked. That was when he was in the first grade. His mother didn’t speak up. She seemed to think he deserved it for getting on her man’s nerves.