«Fine, but I can buy my own ticket.» «Details, details, always fussing. This is in my line of work. I know how to get the best seats for the cheapest price. Let me do this. Each to his own abilities. Don't say anything. I don't want to hear your-system-this your-system-that. I'll take care of the hotel too. Two rooms. What do you think—you want something with a kitchenette?»
«Well, I like to be able to cook my own sometimes, but it's—»
«I know just the place. I stayed there once myself. Near the beach, quiet, clean.» «But I—»
«Just leave it all to me, okay? I'll get the word to Ame. You just go to Honolulu with Yuki, lie on the beach and have a good time. Her mother's going to be busy anyway. When she's working, daughter or whoever doesn't exist. So don't worry. Just make sure Yuki eats well. And, oh yes, you got a visa?» «Yes, but—»
«Good. Day after tomorrow, son. Don't forget your passport. Whatever you need, get it there. You're not going to Siberia. Siberia was rough, let me tell you. Horrible place. Afghanistan wasn't much better either. Compared to them, Hawaii's like Disneyland. And you're there in no time. Fall asleep with your mouth open and you're there. By the way, son, you speak English?»
«In normal conversation I—»
«Good,» he said. «Perfect in fact. There's nothing more to say. Nakamura will meet you with the tickets tomorrow. He'll also bring the money I owe you for Yuki's flight down from Hokkaido.»
«Who's Nakamura?»
«My assistant. The young man who lives with me.»
Boy Friday.
«Any other questions?» asked Makimura. «You know, I like you, son. Hawaii. Wonderful place. Wonderful smells. A playground. Relax. No snow to shovel over there. I'll see you whenever you get back.»
Then he hung up.
The famous writer.
When I reported to Yuki that all systems were go, she squealed again.
«Can you get ready by yourself? Pack your swimsuit and whatever you need?»
«It's only Hawaii,» she said patronizingly. «It's like going to the beach at Oiso. We're not going to Kathmandu, you know.»
The next day I ran errands: to the bank for cash, to the bookstore for a few paperbacks, to the cleaners for my shirts. At three o'clock, I met Boy Friday at a coffee shop in Shibuya, where he handed me a thick envelope of cash, two first-class open tickets to Hawaii, two packets of American Express travelers cheques, and a map to the hotel in Honolulu.
«It's all been arranged. Just give them your name when you get there,» Nakamura said. «The reservation's for two weeks, but it can be changed for shorter or longer. Don't forget to sign the travelers cheques when you get home. Use them as you please. It's all on expense account. That's the word from Mr. Makimura.»
«Everything's on expense account?» I couldn't believe it.
«Maybe not everything, but as long as you get receipts, it should be fine. That's my job. Please get receipts for whatever you spend,» he laughed good-naturedly.
I promised I would.
«Take care of yourselves and have a good trip,» he said.
«Thanks,» I said.
At nightfall I rummaged through the refrigerator and made dinner.
Then I quickly threw together some things for the trip. Was I forgetting anything?
Nothing I could think of.
Going to Hawaii's no big deal. You need to take a lot more stuff going to Hokkaido.
I parked my travel bag on the floor and laid out what I'd wear the next day. Nothing more to do, I took a bath, then drank a beer while watching the news. No news to speak of, except for a not-too-promising weather forecast. Great, we'll be in Hawaii. I lay in bed and had another beer. And I thought of Mei. Extremely, irrevocably dead Mei. She was in a very cold place now. Unidentified. Without customers. Without Dire Straits or Bob Dylan. Tomorrow Yuki and I were going to Hawaii, on someone else's expense account. Was this any way to run a world?
I tried to shake Mei's image from my head.
I tried to think about my receptionist friend at the Dolphin Hotel. The one with the glasses, the one whose name I didn't know. For some reason the last couple of days I'd been wishing I could talk to her. I'd even dreamed about her. But how could I even ring her up? What was I supposed to say—»Hello, I'd like to talk to the receptionist with glasses at the front desk»? They'd probably think I was some joker. A hotel is serious business.
There had to be a way. Where there's a will, et cetera.
I rang up Yuki and set a time to meet the next day. Then asked if by chance she knew the name of the receptionist in Sapporo, the one who'd entrusted her to me, the very one with the glasses.
«I think so,» she said, «because it was an odd name. I'm sure I wrote it in my diary. I don't remember it, but I could check.»
«Would you, right now?» I asked.
«I'm watching TV.»
«Forgive me, but it's urgent. Very urgent.»
She grumbled, but fetched her diary. «It's Miss Yumiyoshi,» she said.
«Yumiyoshi?» I repeated.
«I told you it was an odd name. Sounds Okinawan, doesn't it?»
«No, they don't have names like that in Okinawa.»
«Well, anyway, that's her name. Yu-mi-yo-shi,» Yuki pronounced. «Okay? Can I watch TV now?»
«What are you watching?»
She hung up without responding.
Next I rang up the Dolphin Hotel and asked to speak to my receptionist friend by name. I didn't know how far this would go, but the operator connected us and Miss Yumiyoshi even remembered me. I hadn't been written off entirely.
«I'm working,» she spoke in a low voice, cool and clean. «I'll call you later.»
«Fine then, later,» I said.
While waiting for her call back, I rang up Gotanda and was just leaving a message that I was going to Hawaii when he came on the line.
«Sounds great. I'm envious,» he said. «Wish I could go too.»
«Why not? What's stopping you?» I asked.
«Not as easy as you think. It looks like I'm loaded, but I'm so deep in debt you wouldn't believe.»
«Oh?»
«The divorce, the loans. You think I do all these ridiculous commercials for fun? I can write off expenses, but I can't pay off my debts. Tell me you don't think that's odd.» «You owe that much?»
«I owe a lot,» he said. «I'm not even sure how much. Not as smart as I look, am I? Money gives me the creeps. The way I was brought up. Vulgar to think about it, you know. Didn't your mother ever tell you that? All I had to do was work hard, live modestly, look at the big picture. Good advice—for then maybe. Whoever heard of living modestly these days? Whoever heard of the big picture? What my mother never told me was where the tax accountant fit in. Maybe my mother never heard about debts and deductions. Well, I got plenty of both. Which means I gotta work and I can't go to Hawaii with you. Sorry, once you get me going I can't stop.» «That's okay, I don't mind,» I said.
«Anyway, it's my problem, not yours. We'll go together the next time, okay? I'm going to miss you. Take care of
yourself.»
«It's just Hawaii,» I laughed. «I'll be back in a week.»
«Still. Give me a call when you get back, will you?»
«Sure thing,» I said.
«And while you're lying on the beach at Waikiki, think of me. Playing dentist to pay my debts.»
Miss Yumiyoshi called a little before ten. She was back at her apartment. Ah yes—simple building, simple stairs, simple door. Her nervous smile. It all came back so poignantly. I closed my eyes, and the snowflakes danced
