“Em . . . But . . .”
“I’d really like to travel with you, but I’m afraid I can’t. I’m just too slow a runner—I’d never be able to make it to catch the 8:02. But don’t worry. I’ll be coming on the 8:22 bus. And I’ll be getting either the train immediately after yours or the one after that. You’ll be all right. I’ll be following you—I’ll be there almost immediately. I think it’s better if we go separately—this way no one will notice us. Oh yes, and if you get hungry, there’s some loose change in the purse as well, so feel free to use that to buy yourself a bento in the station. Now, is there anything else . . . Oh, I didn’t tell you the name of the station you should get off at, did I? It’s a limited express, so it’ll be only three stops. Get off at the third stop, at Santokuji Station. Third stop, Santokuji Station. Easy to remember. When you come out of the station, you should see a business hotel, the Takagi Hotel, right in front of you. It’s not great, really, for a business hotel, since you have to share a bathroom. Do you mind staying there for the night? Check in, and then just go up to the room and relax. Oh, I nearly forgot. Silly me. I was about to leave you without giving you this. Here, here you are. This is the key for the coin locker. Make sure you lock it properly, won’t you? Now I wonder where you should leave the key for me? I know, how about near a pay phone? Right next to the rows of coin lockers, you’ll see a single green pay phone. On the shelf underneath it, there’s a directory. Hide the key in there, somewhere in the middle.”
“But . . . I’d just . . .”
“I know you might feel anxious staying the night in a place that’s unfamiliar, but you should try to get a good night’s sleep and recuperate. Tomorrow we’ll have to start job hunting immediately. We’ll try everything there is, together, systematically, looking for anywhere that will employ us, and that will let us live together on the premises. Oh, now don’t make that face. Even if we don’t find anything right away, don’t worry, we’ll be all right. I’ve put everything we could possibly need in that Boston bag. Provisions, changes of clothes, money—all you could need. Not in huge quantities, obviously . . . but enough to last us for a good long while.”
“Well, I didn’t actually . . . Um, what I was really wondering was . . .”
“Mm?”
“Why, Supervisor Gondo, are you being so . . . ?”
I suddenly realized the Woman in the Purple Skirt had stopped crying. I found myself being observed by two small round eyes. She was looking straight at me.
I shook my head a little. I’m not Supervisor Gondo, I told her. I’m the Woman in the Yellow Cardigan.
“So, it’s you? You’re the Woman in the Yellow Cardigan?” I was sure I heard her say.
In fact, all she did was keep staring at me, without saying anything.
I reached out gently and tweaked her nose. It was just a few inches away from me.
“Quickly now,” I said. “Time to go. Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you.”
“But . . .”
“Come on, there’s no time to lose! Only three minutes until the bus arrives!”
I pointed to her watch. The Woman in the Purple Skirt glanced down at it and finally gathered herself together and stood up. She still looked downcast. “Two minutes left!” I shouted, and she suddenly looked up. No sooner had she started to make a dash for the bus stop than she came running straight back.
“What now? What’s the matter? Just go!”
“But . . . I don’t have any money.”
“What?”
“I should get some money from my place. If I can’t pay, I won’t be able to get on the bus.”
“Oh . . . I don’t know—take this!”
“What is it?”
“Can’t you see? It’s my commuter pass! Now get going! You have one minute left!”
The Woman in the Purple Skirt sprinted off.
Very shortly, I heard the whine of a police siren. I decided it was time for me too to leave.
But I hadn’t finished yet. And now it was going to get really hard.
Since I’d given her my commuter pass, I had to make a quick stop back at my apartment, to see if I could find something that might be of financial value.
When I got to my front door, completely out of breath, it was secured with a huge padlock. There was no option but to grab a flowerpot I found lying nearby to break a window, and get in that way.
I was relieved to see that the state of my apartment was no different from how it had been when I left. My futon and TV were near the window, with a few plastic bags scattered in the middle of the otherwise empty room. The electricity appeared to have been cut off: a pull on the cord of the fluorescent light in the middle of the ceiling produced just a little tinny sound. The previous Thursday, a “Notice to Tenant to Vacate the Premises” had been delivered from the court, and I had taken refuge in a manga café near the train station. I had grabbed as much
