“She actually looks as if she might have some wits about her!”
This reaction relieved me of my first worry. At least now she wouldn’t be persecuted for not even being able to properly recite the various obligatory salutations and exhortations. More than a few of the older cleaning staff, and managers like Supervisor Tsukada and Supervisor Hamamoto, made it a policy to refuse to deal with new recruits who couldn’t handle this most basic of requirements. I didn’t know how many new employees I’d seen quit before finding out even the first thing about the job.
But the Woman in the Purple Skirt had mastered this part. Her induction started that very afternoon, in a room in the hotel’s utility corridor.
Supervisor Tsukada began with a demonstration of the various pieces of housekeeping equipment, and then handed the Woman in the Purple Skirt a form, telling her to fill in the blanks with the names of the items.
But, oh dear, the Woman in the Purple Skirt didn’t have a pen.
“You mean you forgot?” asked Supervisor Tsukada in stern surprise. “The least you can do is bring a pen with you to work.”
“I’m sorry.” The Woman in the Purple Skirt hung her head.
“Well, what about a notebook?”
The Woman in the Purple Skirt shook her head. Supervisor Tsukada took out an unused notebook from the tote bag she carried around with her.
“I’ll give you this one.”
“Is it all right? It’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Of course. I’ve got lots more. I bought five in a special deal.”
“Thank you! I appreciate your kindness!” More evidence of the efficacy of the director’s vocal coaching.
“Now. The one thing you have to understand about this job,” Supervisor Tsukada said as she handed her a pen, “is that it’s rather mindless. Basically, you’re doing the same thing over and over again. Anyone can do it, once they get used to it. It’s actually quite simple.”
“Yes.” The Woman in the Purple Skirt opened the notebook she’d been given, and wrote: “Involves doing the same thing over and over again.”
“Good grief!” Supervisor Tsukada exclaimed, taking a quick peek at her notes. “I hope you’re not going to write down everything I say!” And she laughed boisterously, giving the Woman in the Purple Skirt a whack on the shoulder.
The Woman in the Purple Skirt was now assigned to the training floor, which was, as the name implied, the floor specifically for trainees. Here, she would be joined by Supervisor Tsukada, whose specific job was to train the trainees, as well as three other supervisors who would come in one by one to observe, and ten or so fledgling members of the staff, all of whom had joined within the last year. She would have her cleaning procedures strictly monitored, until such time as Supervisor Tsukada stamped her official seal on a document that would signify she had completed her training.
The director also dropped in to see how his protégée was doing. The Woman in the Purple Skirt happened to be out of earshot, having been pulled aside by one of the supervisors to learn how to replenish the cleaning fluid in the housekeeping cart.
“The new girl looks like she’ll be all right,” Supervisor Tsukada told the director.
“Is she able to communicate?” the director asked.
“Uh-huh. Her responses are just as they should be.”
“Ah. Good.” The director nodded, looking pleased. “My voice lessons must have done the trick.”
“She is quiet and reserved, so at first I doubted whether she would be up to the job. But so far she’s been doing everything exactly as I tell her to. She’s very conscientious. And she’s quick and nimble, despite her dopey manner.”
“Really!”
“I asked her if she had ever played any sports. Apparently, she used to be on the athletics squad. For six years, all the way up through junior high and high school.”
“I see!”
“Yes, apparently she excelled at short-distance running. It just shows you, doesn’t it? You should never judge someone by the way they look. Well, thank goodness for that. We’ve finally managed to get someone capable!”
So it turns out the Woman in the Purple Skirt really is speedy and agile and fit after all. I found that hard to believe. On the athletics squad? And for six years?
And what was all this about her being “conscientious” and “capable”? That set me on edge. Did it mean she had failed over and over in all those job interviews just because of her physical appearance? I would never have described her as “spruce,” not by any standard, but how very odd that all it took was for her to put on a uniform like everyone else, and tie her hair back in a ponytail, to all of a sudden start being thought of as “capable.” Truth be told, since the morning, every time the Woman in the Purple Skirt passed in front of me, I was quite certain I had caught a whiff of that “fresh floral” fragrance. She must have used one of the shampoo samples I had hung on her doorknob. They do say that certain fragrances can have a positive effect on mood and emotion. I was sure that what had really won over the management was the smell of my shampoo.
At the end of the first day, Supervisor Tsukada gave the Woman in the Purple Skirt an apple. It was a big red one.
“This is a hokuto apple. Very expensive.” Supervisor Tsukada put a finger to her lips and said, “Shh!”
The Woman in the Purple Skirt took the apple with both hands. “Really? Is it okay if I take it?”
“Of course.”
“But doesn’t it belong to . . . ?”
“Oh, it’s fine. Come on. Everybody does it. Even me. Look.”
Supervisor Tsukada pointed at each of her breasts. They stuck out unnaturally, perfectly round and much bigger than usual. If you looked carefully, the shape of each was slightly different. The right breast was an apple, and the left breast, slightly smaller, was an orange. Supervisor Tsukada then plunged her hand
