“Yeah, you’d think they’d want to fatten me up so they can eat me for Christmas dinner.” I stuck out my stomach for emphasis. “Don’t get me started about my darn uniform.”
Setsuko stopped and tied a perfect bow on her black patent leather shoes. “Such the comedian. You really should think about doing stand up.”
“Gee, all my friends tell me that. Maybe I can start my career in Japan and become the blonde American comedian.”
Yet, maybe Setsuko was on to something. I could be the next Amy Schumer making the rounds at the New York comedy clubs. Enough fantasy. My curiosity about Setsuko’s commute was killing me. Maybe for once everything wasn’t going her way.
“So, how long did it take you to get to school?”
Setsuko beamed. “No time at all. My dreamy host brother dropped me off in his cute little blue sports car.”
“I just want to remind you it’s against the law to have your brother as a boyfriend—probably even in Japan.”
“You’re hilarious. See, you should start an act.”
“And deprive my friends of my best material?”
Setsuko gave me a shove. “You’re right.”
There might be hope for Setsuko after all. She had a wicked sense of humor. I picked up the pace, not wanting to be late again. “What class are you going to?”
“Advanced Japanese.”
“I guess you’ll actually be saying sentences then.”
Setsuko looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“In my beginning Japanese class, we’re still learning to pronounce the vowel chart.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember you joking about that. I sure hope we’re way beyond that point.”
I laughed. “Maybe you’ll actually be saying big sentences like, ‘How much is that sushi in the window?’”
Setsuko started up the stairs to the language building and then turned. “Saturday Night Live, here you come.”
The Japanese Literature class was held in one of the regular academy buildings, not on the International section of campus. Climbing the stairs to the classroom, I noticed there wasn’t another blonde in sight.
Once in the classroom, I glanced around to see where I wanted to sit and settled for my preferred last row seating. A linebacker-type guy headed straight towards the back of the classroom. I recognized the rippled chest—Adam. He waved, then came over and sat next to me. His legs stuck into the aisle. He reminded me of Chris Helmsworth when he starred in the movie Thor: Ragnarok.
“Hey, Adam, how was your date with Gina?”
He looked at his desk and played with his pen. Could a big guy like him actually be shy?
“I wouldn’t call it a date. We just had dinner.”
Guys were so funny about what they called things. “Okay, how was dinner?”
Before Adam could answer my question, the teacher came through the door. He quickly wrote his name on the blackboard, Mr. Higashi, and then turned and stood behind his desk. A chuckle rose from the classroom. The desk hit him at waist level. He had a permanent curious expression on his face. Mr. Higashi looked like he knew a really good joke, which he was probably never going to tell. I liked him immediately.
Now if only he gave us some decent books to read, he’d instantly be my favorite teacher. He handed our book list and my pulse rose. There were over fifteen books. How many other students needed life support after they saw the list?
I had to admit some of the titles did sound interesting. The first book on the sheet was “Confessions of a Mask.” Farther down was another title that caught my eye, “The Box Man.” Could it be about the men I saw living in boxes in the subway?
Mr. Higashi explained we’d read and critique several chapters each class. Adam stared off into space, obviously bored silly. He probably would much rather be playing football than reading some strange Japanese novel. I wondered what made him come all the way to Japan in the first place.
Mr. Higashi began to give a monotone course overview and my hopes for an interesting class faded. Instead of listening to the monotone voice, I daydreamed of my first major art exhibit. A huge crowd gathered in the gallery and everyone clamored to buy my work. Just as I was about to have my picture taken by a New York Times photographer, people were leaving the classroom. Adam and I were left in the back of the room. Giving him a nudge, I gathered up my books and headed for the stairs.
I made a beeline for the student lounge, the girls’ rendezvous spot. Maybe we could finally have lunch together. I couldn’t wait to hear all their stories, although my laundry tale would probably be the winner. I scanned the lounge and couldn’t find Gina or Setsuko, but standing in the corner, Kenzo held court with an even larger group of girls than yesterday. They looked like adoring band groupies.
I stood listening to Kenzo’s conversation. “The field trip to Ueno Park tomorrow is going to be so exciting. I’ll be on hand to answer any of your questions and give you something much nicer to look at than a musty old temple.”
The girls all laughed at his joke. Even though Kenzo sounded a bit full of himself, I couldn’t help admitting he had a certain charm. His flawless English somehow made him seem even sexier. Maybe he could help teach me enough Japanese so that I could talk to Tori’s relatives. After all, number eight on the list had just become my top priority. I gave in to Kenzo’s magnetic power just as Gina came up behind me and pulled my hair.
“I see you’ve joined the worshipers of Kenzo. Can you tear yourself away long enough to have lunch with me?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Will you be as charming of a conversationalist?”
“Hands down the best. Wait until I tell you what my host parents did last night.” Then she looked me up and down. “What’s up with the outfit?”
“Oh, it’s a long story. Let’s get out of here before a school advisor sees me.” Once safely outside I said, “So did your parents try to give you a bath and a grooming?”
“How did you know? Who blabbed?”
“Hey, I’m starved. Can we finish the conversation at your favorite spot?” Gina seemed a bit traumatized and I thought a Joyful Meal might calm her down. Worked every time with Tori. Wait a sec. Why did I suggest Heavenly Burger? Goosebumps formed on my arms at the thought of another ghost close encounter. I’d only been in Japan a few days and the spiritual experiences were adding up quickly.
We walked the few blocks to the golden halo, not having to ask one schoolgirl the way. What a difference a few days made. I tentatively walked through the door. Thankfully, this time I felt no cold spot. I held out hope that my first experience was because the air-conditioning was cranked. I had enough on my plate with being in a new country and Tori’s list. I didn’t need to add dodging ghosts to my to-do list.
Gina ordered a Joyful Meal and a Heavenly Supreme. When our food came, we decided to sit downstairs where the decibel level hadn’t reached 747-A proportions. “Okay, tell me what new and outrageous thing your host parents did.”
Gina munched down her fries and took a gulp from her soda. “Last night I was doing my favorite pastime, painting my toe nails, when my host mother knocked on the door and asked me to come out to the living room. Well, it sounded like a pretty innocent request, so I joined her.”
Gina stared in horror at someone standing just behind me.
“Ms. Van Horn?” Mr. Shinji glared down at my skirt.
My nerves got the better of me. “Oh, hi! So, you had a craving for American food, too.”
Mr. Shinji wasn’t amused. “I see that you have chosen to violate yet another school rule.”
I stared down at my decidedly un-schoolgirl black embroidered skirt and white T. “I have a perfect explanation.”
“I’m certain you do. I’m sure the Headmaster would love to hear it first thing tomorrow morning.” With his message delivered, he turned on his heels and went back to his table.
We wolfed down the rest of our burgers, and Gina grabbed what was left of the fries. She practically pulled me out of the re
staurant. “Wow, that was scary. I hate to be you tomorrow morning. Oh, I wanted to give you a heads-up that Setsuko is in your next class. I know she’s not been your biggest fan, but I’m sure you can win her over.”
Gina waved good-bye and took off across the street and headed toward campus. She probably didn’t want to take any more chances being seen with an obvious troublemaker.
I speed walked to the other side of campus, ran up the stairs to my class, and peeked in the door. Setsuko sat right up front. I grabbed an empty chair in my favorite location and quickly sat down, hoping the teacher wouldn’t notice my improvised uniform. He continued to read the roll and check off student’s names. For once a teacher who didn’t care if his students were late.
His layered haircut set off his handsome features. He looked to be in his late thirties. A nice change from the over hill instructors. Maybe his age would make him more interesting.
Wrong. After what seemed like hours, Mr. Fukazawa finished the first chapter review and dismissed the class.
Setsuko stood waiting for me. She looked half asleep. “I’m surprised such a cute teacher can be so totally boring.”
Well, at least it wasn’t just me. “My mind glazed over after the first sentence.”
Setsuko beamed. “I actually love these kind of classes because I can memorize the material and ace the class.”
Spoken like a true academic. Seemed Setsuko might come in handy for more than Japanese lessons. “Maybe we can study together sometime.”
“I don’t need a study buddy. Thank you very much.”
Tearing down Setsuko’s walls wasn’t going to be as easy as I hoped.
She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to head out. I’m going clothes shopping with my host brother.”
I waved good-bye, thinking maybe I needed to put O-B-N to work on Setsuko. I was tempted to follow her and check out her host brother. I was a bit curious about a guy who’d volunteer to go shopping. From my life experience her brother was a rare breed.
Now that I was a navigational pro, I had no problems switching trains on the way home. Once on the main line, I listened to the sounds of the train and let the rhythm lull me to sleep. I didn’t wake up until two stops before the end of the line. I couldn’t believe I’d mastered the salarymen’s art already. The mile hike home was another story. It could be an Olympic event with all the hills and worn-down concrete I traversed.
I got home and headed straight upstairs. What a day! I stretched out on my bed, and in minutes I dozed off to sleep.
Aki’s knocking on my door woke me. “Erin, dinner.”
Just like old times, the five of us sat down together. Hiroshi was almost unrecognizable with his hair slicked back, dressed in black trousers and a white button-down shirt. Did he have a job interview? Okasan smiled and motioned for me to take the lid off the rice bowl. Were we making progress? According to the handbook the head of the house usually had the honor.
Picking up the lid of the rice bowl, I stared in horror at my pink bikini underwear. A chorus of laughter filled the room as I threw down the lid and fled for the safety of my bedroom.
Who ever said revenge is sweet never had to be on the other end. I knew Okasan was mad, but why did she have to humiliate me in front of Hiroshi and Otosan? How I longed for the comfortable familiarity of my studio back home.
Safely back in my room, I sat down at the desk. Now was a good time to start writing in my journal. Maybe it was the one way I could stay sane in Japan. I scribbled down my thoughts and couldn’t help but wish Tori sat next to me. She’d know just how to cheer me up. Back home, we’d eat an entire quart of Chunky Monkey and all would be right with the world. I looked up from the desk. Tori’s to-do list was missing, and Okasan’s schedule of my household duties was in its place. The nerve of that woman!
I tore Okasan’s schedule into little pieces. They floated to the floor while the phone rang and rang, raising my blood pressure even higher.
Aki peeked through the doorway. Before I could show her Okasan had been messing with my stuff, she said, “You have a phone call.”
Probably Tori. She must have read my mind. Sometimes I thought we had a psychic link like identical twins. More likely, she called about her father’s wake. I felt terrible I couldn’t be with her. The fact I was in her father’s homeland made the pain of his loss impossible to escape. I picked up the phone, surprised to hear a male voice.
“Hi, just wanted to check in and see if you’ve started a twelve-step program for that chocolate habit of yours.” Kenzo. His charm oozed through the receiver.
“Are you the chocolate police?”
His hearty laugh echoed in my ear. “How did you guess? I’m undercover.”
“Hey, how did you get my number? If you got it from Gina, I’m going to kick her ass!”
He stuffed back another laugh. “I found your number scratched on the door of the men’s bathroom at the academy. It said, call Erin for a night you won’t forget. I’m surprised your phone hasn’t been ringing off the hook.”
“Very funny. Tell Gina she better head back to the States if she knows what’s good for her.”
“Don’t be too hard on her. I can be quite persuasive.”
No kidding. The sound of his velvety smooth voice made me hug the receiver for more. “I know. I’ve seen your charm in action. The lunch groupies are mesmerized by your every word.”
His pride came through the phone. “Actually, that’s why I called. Do you want to become an official member? I promise you’ll get killer benefits.
Chapter 8
A Walk in the Park
September 7-5:00 AM
Instead of being excited about heading off to the Ueno Park field trip, I stared at Okasan’s torn up schedule I’d left scattered all over the floor. So much for O-B-N. I picked up the pieces and instead of throwing them away, I carefully stuck them, one by one upside down on the board. The next time Okasan snuck into my room, she’d see what I thought of her little stunt.
Tearing a sheet from my journal, I tried to copy down Tori’s quirky requests from memory.
Erin’s Japan to-do list
1. Get a fantastic rock star boyfriend. (This is in the bag. I received a personal invitation to join the Kenzo fan club. Now all I have to do is take out my main competition, the harem. Oh, and help him become famous.)
2. Oh crap…What was number two?
3. Study under a famous artist. (Need to call Kawanasan yesterday. Oops, got to get Fudo’s number first.)
4.Wait a second, think number three is number four. So, what’s number three? (Tori will kill me for forgetting.)
5. Eat something adventurous. (Still the one and only thing checked off the list. Better get my butt in gear.)
6. Buy the latest Hello Kitty must-have item. (Can’t bring myself to enter a Sanrio showroom. Maybe I can sneak something out of Aki’s room. She’ll never miss it.)
7. Japan is a spiritual place. (I’ll say. The Mori’s house might be haunted.)
8. Visit Tori’s relatives and search for anything interesting hidden in the family’s closet. (Need to move this to number one.)
Nothing like forgetting the list to remind me I better take it more seriously. Moving eight up to number one sure had me worried. There was no way I could even imagine speaking with Tori’s family. We were just beginning the see-Spot-run section of our Japanese 101 textbook. A long way from having enough vocabulary to extract family secrets.
Folding up the list, I stuffed it in my skinny jeans pocket and checked to make sure I felt the outlines of the paper. Knowing I had almost forgotten the list made it even more precious. I was hoping my newfound commitment would give me the strength to persevere through the strange goings on at the Mori household.
I had a bigger problem right now—Mr. Shinji. I chewed on my nails the whole way to Seda. Would I be kicked out of the academy? Did they have a two-strikes-you’re-out rule? I took my time walking to school, thinking up all kinds of schemes to avoid the
counselor. When I finally waltzed through the iron gates I’d come up with a plan. I’d act like everything was normal and Mr. Shinji would forget about marching me into the Headmaster’s office. Lame, but I was desperate.
I snuck up next to Mr. Shinji while he directed the buses around the crowd of students. Setsuko and Gina hung out by bus number three, but I couldn’t decide if I wanted to join them. They had already taken every opportunity to tease me about skipping school. Another reminder being a third wheel definitely had its down side. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop me from going on the field trip. I took a deep breath and casually walked towards bus number three, hoping Mr. Shinji wouldn’t notice me.
I stayed a few students behind Setsuko’s bright red Mary Jane flats. The girls were so busy in their conversation about their prospective boyfriends they didn’t see me slip in line. But someone else did.
“Well, Ms. Van Horn. Aren’t you lucky I’m in a good mood today? You should be sitting in the Headmaster’s office right now. You are fortunate it is Saturday.”
I hung my head afraid to meet Mr. Shinji’s eyes. “I know. Thank you, sir.”
“You are officially on probation. One more bad decision and it’s a one-way ticket back to Idaho.”
While the other students looked at me and talked in whispers, Gina came up and gave me a hug. “Come sit with us.”
The bus started up and a large puff of smoke drifted past my window. We were off. The girls gossiped away but I just wanted to disappear. Instead, I glued my nose to the window. Riding up high gave the streets of Tokyo a whole new look. Somehow, the mass of dull gray concrete took on an almost sculptural quality that wasn’t nearly so offensive.
Setsuko complained to Gina. “I can’t figure out how Erin always worms her way out of getting in trouble.”
Further proof only bad girls got away with murder and I didn’t deserve to be her friend. Keeping my mouth shut seemed the best option. I waited to see if Gina would come to my defense.
First Contact Page 8
