Ten Journeys

by Various

  I digest this information, a hot curve of anger in my chest. The smell from her bag of tempura prawns is filling the cab and making me nauseous. I roll down the window.

  “Tell Trick to get lost. He can’t make you do anything. You’re a modern woman for Chrissake. You’re supposed to be empowered.”

  Lucy shakes her head in frustration. “Evie, you don’t get it. You need to accept that it’s different for women here. Your ideas about equality don’t apply, especially to hostesses. ‘When in Rome’, remember? What Trick wants, Trick gets. He makes the rules.”

  “Jesus, Lucy! Trick’s a pseudo hippy with a big ego and a wandering eye. I don’t know why you’re so scared of him. How much money do you owe, anyway?”

  “Trust me, darling, he’s deceptive and I should know. I owe him 15 thousand US – he makes us pay in dollars.”

  I pull out my cigarettes and offer her one. “15k! Bloody hell, Lucy. What for?”

  Lucy stares at her knees, her pale skin a smudge against the night. “This and that. A couple of bad business deals. I won’t bore you with the details.”

  I roll my eyes. Goddamn druggies. “That’s a bummer. Why don’t you sell something from your Wish List? I’m sure you can make some extra cash that way. Advertise a Sayonara Sale and once you’ve sold your things tell everyone you’ve changed your mind about leaving.”

  “I plan to but that’ll take a while. I told Trick I’d give him the money a month ago and I think my grace period is up.”

  “Don’t you have any savings? You must’ve earned bucketloads over the years.”

  “Not much. You know I’m not much good at saving. Is there any chance you could…” she trails off and picks at a hangnail.

  I look out into the black. Never lend money to a junkie. “Sorry Satellite. That’s my money for my trip and I need to keep moving. Osaka is driving me crazy.”

  “Evie, it’d only be for a couple of weeks, darling. Just to get Trick off my back. He said he’d be over tomorrow morning to talk to me about it and I know what that means. Trick only gives you so much rope before he starts having conversations with his fists.”

  I think of Lucy’s fragile frame. She’d be no match for a violent Trick, but who’s to say she’s telling the truth? You can’t really trust anyone here.

  “I’d really like to help you out Satellite but I can’t lend you $15,000. I can lend you five grand, if that’ll keep Trick off your back but you need to pay me back before I leave.”

  Lucy looks out the window at the dark shapes of houses and apartment blocks whizzing past, jiggling her leg up and down against the seat.

  “It’s not enough. He wants the lot. What if I give you some of the things from my Wish List as a bond? You can choose whatever you want. I’ve got a couple of diamond rings, which are pretty valuable but there’s heaps of other stuff too. Come on Evie, we’re on our own over here. We have to look after each other.”

  I light up another cigarette and consider Lucy’s offer. I remember Katherine Daniels’ father, all sweaty shirt and desperation. Maybe I could hold onto the rings and a couple of other things until Lucy organizes the money for me. She showed me the ropes when I first got here and protected me from Mama. Perhaps I owe her for that.

  “Please Evie-chan,” Lucy pleads.

  I groan inwardly. Never lend money to a junkie. Haven’t you learnt? “OK, OK! I’ll come over tomorrow before the dohan and choose some things and then transfer the money to your account. But you have to pay me back in two weeks, tops.”

  Lucy sighs, a long, sweet sound. “Thank you, Evie honey. You’re a lifesaver. Can you transfer it tonight online though? I want to call Trick and tell him I’ve got the money so he leaves me alone. I’m scared of what he might do if I let him down again.”

  I look at her, suspicion curling in the base of my spine. Lucy slips off a ring and hands it to me. “Here take this, sweetie. I know it’s not enough but I’m good for the rest. I promise.”

  “Hostesses’ honour?” I ask, holding out my hand and crooking my pinky finger.

  Lucy hooks her pinky onto mine. “Hostesses’ honour,” she says grinning, gap-teeth white against the dark.

  Lucy and I head into Banana House and Sandra’s slumped across the table with half a bottle of sake and some shooter glasses in front of her. I guess the rest of the party has gone to bed or gone home.

  “Hey, it’s the hostesses with the mostest. What’s up?” she slurs.

  “Not much,” I say, scanning everyone’s shelves for some food to nick. Sandra has a couple of packets of dried miso soup and I pocket one. Matt’s food patch is looking pretty bare, which is strange because he’s big on nutrition. He still has a couple of cans of tuna though so I take one and add it to my stash. I figure he’ll stock up tomorrow so he won’t miss it.

  “Matt’s locking most of his food in his room now,” says Sandra looking at me slyly. “Think he got sick of everyone taking his stuff.”

  “Really. You a thief, then?”

  “I’m not the thief around here,” Sandra mutters. “Whatever… come and have a drink. Even you, Lucy.”

  Lucy kicks off her shoes and slips on a pair of slippers from the messy pile by the door.

  “Home sweet home,” she says. “I remember it well.”

  “How is it up at the palace?” Sandra asks Lucy, pushing a shooter full of sake across the table.

  “OK, gets a bit lonely. I never thought I’d say it but I miss this place sometimes.”

  “God, this dive,” Sandra snorts. “I can’t wait to get out.”

  “Me too,” I say downing my shot and shoving some seaweed crackers into my mouth. “If I never have to wipe Matt’s shaving hair and the mould off the shower walls again, it will be too soon. Hey Sandra, you got anything else to eat?”

  “Jeez you’re a scammer. Why don’t you ever buy your own food? I guess I’ve got a Bento you can have. It’s two days old but it should be OK.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Teriyaki chicken and rice. Do you want me to nuke it in the microwave?”

  There’s nothing else to eat and I can’t be bothered going to Lawsons to buy snacks so I nod and say thanks.

  The microwave rings and I grab the lukewarm chicken, spearing some grayish flesh into my mouth. Tastes pretty old but it will fill the nagging ache in my stomach for now.

  “Guess what we have to do tomorrow?” Lucy asks Sandra.

  “Go on dohan!” she yells, pumping the air drunkenly with her fist.

  “How’d you know?”

  “I was a hostess for three months remember? Then I realised the money wasn’t worth the assault so I decided to teach Conversational English instead. That’s a different kind of hell but at least I don’t have to show my legs unless I want to. I don’t know how you girls can stand it. And look what’s happened to Katherine Daniels,” Sandra mutters. “What a waste.”

  Lucy downs her shot and starts jiggling her leg again. I wish she’d stop doing that. It’s starting to bug me. “Nobody knows what’s happened to Katherine Daniels. That’s part of the problem,” she says, voice as high and thin as a bird’s wing. “For all we know she’s taken off to Vietnam or Morocco for a holiday without telling anyone. Anyway, I’m good at hostessing and it’s better money than I could earn back home. I don’t even have a highschool diploma.”

  Sandra snorts. “For fuck’s sake, Lucy! You’re even crazier than usual if you think Katherine Daniels is holidaying in Morocco. They’ll find her in the Dotombori River or at the end of a dark alley somewhere. We all know that. As for school, you could go back and get your diploma. Evie finished… she’s halfway through a law degree.”

  They both look at me as if I’ve got chicken hanging out of my teeth. Lucy’s face is moonstone white, eyes so huge and dark you could swim in them. I spoon some greasy rice into my mouth and kick Sandra under the table.

  “Shut up, Sandra. You don’t know what’s happened to Katherine Daniels any more than the rest of us. An
yway, I’m not sure about Law. I think I might want to be a photographer. You guys know that I’m only doing this for a few months so I can earn enough money to buy a decent camera then I’m off to Thailand and Alaska to shoot the Northern Lights. I’m just passing through, remember?”

  Sandra laughs and stares at me as if she’s seen something behind my blank. “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it, huh? Well, I’m going to bed. Enjoy your dohan and keep it down in the morning will ya? I want to sleep in.”

  She stumbles into her bedroom and slams the door. I look over at Lucy. “Come on Satellite. Let’s go upstairs to my room and I’ll transfer the money to your account. I’ll be over tomorrow morning to choose whatever I want from your Wish List. Quick, before I change my mind.”

  My alarm goes off at 9.00am. I groan and switch it to snooze for ten minutes. Then I roll off my futon and walk downstairs to the shower, my mind off and running like train tracks, a sour taste in my mouth.

  Now that there’s no sake taking the edge off things, I’m not sure about this deal I’ve done with Lucy. A muscle in my temple throbs. Not much I can do about it now. A promise is a promise.

  I make an instant coffee and pull The Japan Times from the letterbox and unfold it. Katherine Daniels stares out from the front page, smiling and happy in another time. Sandra was right. She isn’t holidaying in Morocco.

  Dead hostess found in barrel!

  Police made a grisly find at the back of a warehouse in Umeda yesterday evening. The remains of British tourist, Katherine Daniels, were found in a drum behind two metal skips, filled with rubbish. Ms Daniels has been identified via dental records.

  Ms Daniels, who had been working at the popular Sakura Club in Shinsaibashi the night she disappeared, had been missing since July this year.

  Police are appealing for information and currently interviewing a number of persons of interest.

  I flick on the news. Katherine’s father is pushing through a media scrum in London. He’s lost weight, looks old and bereft. The journalists are shoving microphones and cameras at him, demanding a comment about his dead child. His hands flail across his face and he stumbles through the pack but they don’t let up. They ask how he feels about this terrible development, what he’ll do if they find the killer, if he’d like to make a public tribute to his beautiful, much-loved, only girl.

  I turn off the TV. I bow my head and whisper a prayer for Katherine, her dad and the long, rolling emptiness ahead. I don’t know why. I can’t be sure anyone hears or cares; only that this is what I know of sadness, what I understand of grief.

  The kitchen is quiet and empty, so I sit at the table for a long time until the white-noise retreats.

  Nobody is up yet, so at least I’ll get some hot water this morning. I stare at myself in the mirror. I’ve seen better days. After only a few months on the job I’ve developed hostess skin:grey and pimply with dark circles under my eyes. I cover up the worst of the damage with some makeup and blow-dry my hair.

  Lucy lives just a couple of blocks away in Yuho Mansion, a squat grey building of eight apartments joined by a communal roof garden. Except there’s no garden on the roof, just a couple of rusty clotheslines and three broken chairs.

  I walk up to Lucy’s place on the third floor. Her door is slightly ajar but I knock on it anyway. I stand there for a minute but there’s no answer so I knock louder then push it open.

  “Satellite, you here?” I call, swapping my flip-flops for house slippers and stepping into the tiny kitchen. I look around me and my temple throbs. The kitchen is bare and the fridge is flapping open.

  I stride across to Lucy’s bedroom and pull the paper door across. Her futon is stripped and rolled up neatly, the sheets and blankets folded in a pile on the floor. I push her cupboard door open and the coat hangers jangle. Alone shirt lies in a crumpled heap in the corner.

  I sit on the rolled futon and drop my head into my hands. I’m too tired to cry.

  Never lend money to a junkie.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting there when I hear a soft padding across the floor and I look up and see Trick standing above me, his dreadlocks pulled back in a bright red bandanna.

  “Hey Evie baby, what’s up? Where’s our amigo, Lucy? You helping her move apartments or something?”

  I try to focus on Trick’s eyes. He clicks his fingers a couple of times in front of my face.

  “Evie, are you cool? Have you taken something? You look pretty spaced out baby.”

  “No,” I say. I feel like I’m looking at Trick through a long, tunnel. Everything is translucent, fading away. “Lucy’s taken something though. All my money. She’s probably on a plane right now.”

  “Whooo. Evie-chan. Back up sistergirl! What do you mean on a plane? Lucy and I had a little business deal.”

  “I know all about your business deal you drug-dealing fuck. I lent Lucy the money to pay you back and she’s up and left with it. All of it.”

  Trick takes a couple of steps back and laughs softly. “Has she now. Well, well, well. Maybe it’s karma, baby.” He rocks gently back and forth on his heels.

  “Is that all you’ve got to say? That it’s karma? That was my money for my camera gear and my trip. I was set to leave in about a month. Anyway, if it’s my karma it’s your karma too and you’re out of pocket by 15 grand so I don’t know why you’re smiling.”

  Tricks looks puzzled and laughs again. “Easy baby, easy. You seem a little confused. Lucy owes me 500 bucks not 15 grand.

  I don’t let anyone run up big debts, especially skanky hostesses with drug issues. I’ll get my cash off Mama from the wages she owes Lucy for this month. I’m sitting pretty, Evie-chan. Don’t need to worry about my karma.”

  The knot in my temple unfolds and a haze comes up between me and everything else. Trick is just a blurred shape but I know he’s probably telling the truth. I light up a cigarette, draw the smoke in deep and count to five before I exhale. I do it again and the world starts to fall into focus. Trick’s leaning against the kitchen cupboards drumming his fingers against the bench.

  “Hey baby, did you hear the news about Katherine Daniels?”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “You hostesses better watch your backs. There’s some crazy karma going down. Earth-to-Evie-chan! You hearing me, baby? Understand what I’m saying?”

  I know what Trick’s saying. He’s threatening me or giving me a heads up, but all I can think about is my lost cash and if it’s somehow connected to Katherine Daniels and the story she’s become.

  That’s all Katherine is now. News. A warning. A cautionary footnote in a traveller’s tale.

  I tell Sandra what Lucy’s done and she says that maybe it’s a good thing because I might think twice about working at Amber now. I don’t know why she’s so worried about me hostessing.

  “Maybe you should set up Hostesses Anonymous,” I say, “just in case the people who want to get out need some Twelve Step support.”

  Sandra laughs but her coal eyes flash and she starts running her fingers through her hair, so I say maybe she’s right and I’d been thinking about teaching anyway.

  “Cool,” she smiles. “I’ll get you a job at UIES. They’ll hire anyone with a pulse who can string a sentence together.”

  “Thanks for the build up,” I say.

  She grins and throws me a spliff, tells me she’ll make some calls.

  UIES offers me six nine-hour shifts and Sunday off, and I pick up some privates who pay 4000 yen an hour to hear me speak. I spend a lot of time discussing the difference between run and running and the merits of shopping as a hobby, and after a while I want to throw myself off the Dotombori Bridge. I don’t have to hold anyone’s hand to stop them groping me, but teaching McEnglish for sixty hours a week is another kind of beast.

  The idea of travelling the world taking photographs lies like a promise under my skin. I tell people I’ll head to Thailand first and figure the rest out as I go. That I might even work it s
o I can finally follow the sun.

  I bump into Trick a couple of days before I leave town. I’m at the Saturday Flea Market holding a Sayonara Sale to earn extra cash for my trip. He tells me Lucy’s been in touch and she’s doing OK. She’s backpacking through South America and has picked up some Spanish. She’s getting into yoga and steering clear of the drugs.

  “I think she’s sorry about the money,” Trick says picking up a Carol King CD I’m offloading. “Maybe one day she’ll pay us both back, Evie baby, or maybe she’ll pay us back in another lifetime. Man, I dig this singer. She’s not really a babe but she’s a pretty cool chick.”

  I glare at him. “You got your money back from Mama didn’t you? So Lucy only needs to pay me back, but I’m not holding my breath. I’d say that money’s long gone. Probably up her nose, or into a vein.”

  “Whoa, Evie-chan. Don’t let bitterness cloud your heart, baby. It doesn’t suit you and no-one likes an angry chick. Let it go. Let life flow.” Trick looks me up and down and gives one of his long, low whistles. “May I say that you’re looking very righteous, baby. You’ve lost some weight. Pity you didn’t drop those pounds when you were hostessing. Could have made yourself some serious bucks.”

  I finger Trick’s Zippo, which is shoved deep in my pocket. “You want that Carol King CD?” I ask. “It’s 2000 yen.”

  Trick strokes his dreadlocks and grins. “I can get this new for 2500 yen at Rockin’ Records. That’s not much of a discount, Evie-chan.”

  “Take it or leave it. Last chance today.”

  Trick sighs and pulls two 1000 yen notes out of his pocket. “OK, you’re killing me but here’s a donation for your travel fund. You drive a hard bargain Evie-chan. You need to soften up and let go of your bitterness, baby.”

  I pocket the notes and think about asking Trick about the manga cartoons and if he and Lucy were in cahoots. I wonder if he knows if she really owed anyone 15 grand or had taken me for a sucker from day one. I guess it wouldn’t matter what he told me, though. Like I said, you can’t really trust anyone here. You never know who’s lying and who’s telling the truth.