“All I’m saying is if it happens again, tell me before you take off.”
“I’m sorry. I understand.”
“You’re no kid, you know. You need to act more responsibly. You’re pushing the envelope here. Let me be frank, I have no idea how much longer we can keep you on in this office. The good days are over and none of us are indispensable anymore. Ours is a surplus department. I’ve heard that both research and planning are in for a major overhaul. So I advise you to pay attention to what you do.”
It was a bluff. I gazed at the floor in a fit of sulkiness. I was the assistant manager, for crying out loud, how could they fire me? It wasn’t right. Was it because I was a woman? Because I was a prostitute by night? A sense of superiority bubbled forth at the thought. I was awesome. A superstar able to outperform anyone else at this crummy firm. I’d earned prizes for my essays, all while serving this firm as the assistant manager of research, an assistant manager who sells her body. My chest swelled with pride.
“Thank you for your advice. I’ll be more careful.”
After being chewed out like that, I had to do something to calm myself down, so I left the office to go fix myself a cup of coffee. When I stepped into the corridor, the employees who were heading my way quickly scattered left and right to avoid me. Cut it out! I’m not some kind of freak, you know. I felt the blood rise to my head, but then I thought about my secret night life and calmed down. I ought to do something to get back at the Braid, I thought to myself. So I went down to the first-floor lobby to use the pay phone.
“Hello, you’ve reached Juicy Strawberry.”
I recognized the dispatcher’s voice. I could just imagine the excitement and anticipation now racing through the hearts of the girls stuck in the office during the day. I pressed a handkerchief to the telephone receiver in an effort to disguise my voice.
“I wanted to talk about the girl named Kana that you sent over the other night. The customer had a complaint and asked me to relay it to you.”
Kana was the Braid’s street name.
“What is it?”
“Looks like that Kana girl took money out of the customer’s wallet. She’s a thief.”
I hung up. God, that felt good. I couldn’t wait to get to the agency office tonight.
I made myself look busy for the rest of the day and then left the firm. I stopped at a convenience store and bought oden stew and a pack of rice balls. I even bought a carton of cigarettes for the dispatcher. Then I rushed along the streets to the hotel office in high spirits. I’ve got to get sent out tonight, I thought, somewhat testily. My goal of saving up a hundred million yen before I turned forty was growing more and more unlikely, but there was little I could do if they didn’t share the customers with me. I was sure it would piss the Braid off, but I wanted to get sent out ahead of her tonight. I burst through the office door.
“Good evening, ladies!”
The dispatcher looked over at me and then turned away. There were already five or six girls in the office lounging around reading trashy magazines, watching television, or wearing headphones and listening to music. The Braid ignored me.
“Here you go!” I said, as I handed the dispatcher the carton of Castor Mild cigarettes. I’d paid for them out of my own pocket, but since it was a bribe to get him to send me some work, there was little help for it.
“Are these for me?”
I couldn’t tell if the dispatcher was surprised or annoyed.
“Yes, they are. I’m hoping for a little work tonight.”
That should do it. I headed over to the table feeling confident and put down my bag of food. I slurped away at the oden broth and nibbled on my rice balls. The phone rang and everyone turned in anticipation. Send me, I implored the dispatcher with my eyes. He pointed at the Braid.
“Kana-chan, he’s asking for you.”
“All right.”
The Braid pulled reluctantly away from the television. I had scarfed down my dinner and now felt very dissatisfied. Why hadn’t the Braid gotten the ax? As soon as she left, the dispatcher called me over to his desk. There wasn’t a call waiting for me, so I couldn’t figure out what he wanted. I smiled endearingly as I approached.
“Yes?”
“Yuri-san, uh—”
I could feel a sermon coming on. I steeled myself for what was next.
“Yuri-san, we’d prefer you not to use our agency anymore. That prank phone call earlier; that was you, wasn’t it? Don’t try another trick like that again. Kana-chan’s our best girl.”
I’d been fired. I couldn’t believe it. I just stood there with my head hanging. The other girls sat there pretending not to know what was going on, but I was sure they’d heard.
“Then give me back the cigarettes,” I said to the dispatcher.
I hurried down Dogenzaka in the grips of a new plan. I needed to find a department store so I could go in one of the restrooms there and touch up my makeup. I was going to horn in on the Marlboro Hag’s business. I had no problem standing around for hours at a time. I’d wanted to have my own clientele. And since I’d been fired from the hotel escort service, now seemed like the time to get started. Moreover, there was no better time than the present to get past all the bitterness I had tasted today.
I could see the 109 Building. It stood like a veritable beacon of fashion at the crotch of a Y-shaped intersection: Dogenzaka on one side and the road leading to the Tokyu Department Store shopping arcade on the other. Throngs of people poured through the streets on both sides of the building. I pushed myself past young men scoping out the girls in their midst and clawed my way through clumps of office ladies engrossed in shopping. Finally I reached the restroom on the basement floor. The room was teeming with young women, but I staked out a place for myself in front of one of the mirrors and began coating my face with makeup. I painted my eyelids with blue eyeshadow and slathered lipstick that was even redder than usual on my lips. The pièce de resistance, of course, was the black wig that I had tucked away in my shoulder bag. My transformation was complete. Yuri-san stood before the mirror, hotel call girl par excellence, ready to take on the night. While I stared at the change in myself, I felt my heart throb with confidence. I don’t need that stinking agency. I’ll handle my own business.
I felt the same sense of accomplishment and triumph I’d felt earlier, when Yoshizaki had affirmed my value. Now I was ready to acknowledge my own worth, to set my own price. The time had come for me to take charge. No firm, no agency, no escort dispatcher. I was going to stand on my own two feet, and I was going to start by standing in front of that Jiz statue. There I would be able to be myself, to be free. I wondered why I had earlier felt sorry for the Marlboro Hag. She was a woman to be respected, a woman among women after all.
I headed back up Dogenzaka, the long hair of my wig swinging from side to side with each step I took. I passed by the row of love hotels and headed to the statue of Jiz. Benevolent bodhisattva, Jiz pledged to ease the suffering and shorten the sentences of those serving time in hell. In the pale light filtering down over the dark streets I could see the Marlboro Hag standing in front of the statue waiting for a man. She was smoking a cigarette. The Jiz statue wore a benignly sweet, gentle expression and stood on a triangular patch of land facing an old Japanese restaurant. The area in front of the statue glistened slightly from all the water that had been poured over it in supplication. That is where I would stand.
“How’s it going?” I called out to the Hag.
She glared at me suspiciously, the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. But in contrast to her demeanor, she spoke with a stilted politeness. Gone was the earlier abusiveness she had once used to drive me away.
“What do you want? I don’t do women, you know.”
“How’s business?”
The Marlboro Hag looked back at the Jiz statue. It looked as if she and the statue were in cahoots, as if she had to consult it before she answered.
“Business, you say? It’s the same as
always.”
When she turned to look behind her, the skin on her neck wrinkled like crepe fabric. As dark as it was, her wrinkles were still visible. She was wearing a flossy chestnut-colored wig. Her body was short and stocky and so decrepit it was pathetic. There was no doubt in my mind that I surpassed her with my youth and my slim physique. I felt flushed with a sense of superiority. The Marlboro Hag returned my gaze and looked me over from head to foot.
“I thought I would give it a try.”
“Humph!” The Marlboro Hag gave a short snort and laughed. Then she turned to the Jiz statue and said, “Well, only Jiz knows whether you’ll succeed or fail. Isn’t that right?”
I made up my mind to state my business straightaway. I’d tell her I’d decided that from tonight on I’d be standing here, so she could just move herself somewhere else.
“I’d like you to give this spot to me now.”
The old woman tossed her cigarette down angrily. When she spoke she sounded like a different person.
“What? You think I’m going to give you my spot?”
“Well, everyone gets replaced at some point; that’s just the way life is. Besides, you’re not really active anymore, are you?” I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s time for you to retire, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I see, and you think you’re here to give me notice? But I still have a whole host of customers who expect to find me right where I am.”
The Marlboro Hag was bluffing. The black bra wasn’t the only thing you could see through her flimsy jacket. You could also see the sagging skin on her chest. It was crystal clear that the person to whom that chest belonged had to be nearing seventy.
“Well, I don’t see any customers now,” I said, as I pointed to the empty streets. It was already close to eight o’clock and no one was around. A young man wearing a white kitchen uniform stepped out of the sushi shop across the way. He glanced over at us with disgust and looked as if he were going to say something, but when the Marlboro Hag waved at him he made a face and pursed his lips. He pulled a hose out from the side of the shop and began watering the plants out front and washing the pavement.
“You don’t know shit, you know. Customers will be by before long, you’ll see.”
I pulled the carton of Castor Milds out of my bag and handed them to her. “Look, I’ll give these cigarettes to you if you’ll leave and let me have the spot.”
The Marlboro Hag lifted her heavily mascaraed eyes and stared at the cigarettes. Then she grew angry. “Don’t fuck with me, girlie. You can’t buy me off with a lousy carton of cigarettes. I’m a hot item around here, okay? I’ve got a body men will pay to see. I’ve got something you don’t have. Do you want to look? I don’t care if you want to or not, I’m going to show you anyway.”
The Marlboro Hag yanked the zipper down on her jacket exposing her black bra and fetid flesh. In the next instant she grabbed me by the wrist, forcing my hand up to her breasts. I fought her off, but the Marlboro Hag was much stronger than I had expected. Too strong for me, anyway.
“Stop!”
“No, I won’t stop. I told you I was going to show you and that’s what I’m going to do. Here, touch me.”
The Marlboro Hag pressed my hand up under the right side of her bra. I stared into her eyes in horror. Instead of a saggy breast she had just a ball of tattered cloth. She pushed my hand over to the left side of her chest, and there I found the softness I had expected to find—warm springy flesh that squished through my fingers as if trying to escape when I squeezed down.
“Now do you understand? I’ve got no right breast. I lost it ten years ago to cancer. And I’ve been standing here ever since. In the beginning I was nervous, ashamed. I figured I wasn’t complete anymore as a woman. But among my customers I had more than a few who took a fancy to me because of what was missing. What do you think? Do you think it’s strange? Do you get it? No, I doubt you do. How could you? But that’s the way it works, this business. And so, no, I will not give you my spot. This is where men who want a one-breasted woman come. And come they do! You’re too skinny anyway. You may be younger than me, still young enough to be a woman. It’s too soon for you to be standing under the Jiz statue. Besides, you’ve still got too much stuff. If you think you can go me one better, I’d like you to show me what you don’t have.”
The Marlboro Hag spoke like she’d won that round. I pulled out my corporate ID.
“Yeah, well, take a look at this.”
“What’s that?”
“My corporate ID card.”
“I can’t read it without my glasses.” Even so, the Marlboro Hag took the card in her hand and squinted. “What’s it say?”
“It says: Kazue Sat, Assistant Manager, Research Office, G Architecture and Engineering Corporation. That’s me.”
“Well, isn’t that something? It’s a first-rate firm, isn’t it? But if you’re really one of the managers, why the hell do you want to horn in on my business? Besides, I asked you to show me something you don’t have. I’ll bet you’re proud of this.”
“I’m not proud. I just don’t know what else to show you.”
I really didn’t know. Somehow I couldn’t articulate how my school-age goals, my current pride, and the firm that should have been the source of my identity had something in common with her missing breast. But it did seem that the thing we are most proud of and the thing we are most ashamed of are but the front and back of the same coin. They torture and thrill all at once.
The Marlboro Hag lit a cigarette. A man was heading in our direction. He had on a gray suit, white shirt, and black shoes. Looked like an office worker from the sticks. Even his eyebrows were droopy.
“Let’s make a wager,” I said. “The one who can get that man to buy her gets to stand here.”
“Fine, but he’s one of my regulars.”
The Marlboro Hag smiled like she had gotten the best of me.
“Hey!” the man called out to her. No one ever came by this way, so any woman waiting there was an easy buy. It was stupid. But even so it looked like the Marlboro Hag had a surprising number of regulars. That’s why I was determined to win her spot.
“Mr. Eguchi,” the Marlboro Hag called to the man.
“How’re you doing tonight?” The man called Eguchi looked at me without smiling. Determined not to lose, I propositioned him.
“Want to fool around?”
“Who’s this?”
“A new kid. I didn’t have the heart to chase her away,” the Marlboro Hag answered, as she straightened her wig.
“Mr. Eguchi, how about it?” I went on.
Eguchi knitted his droopy eyebrows and thought it over. He looked like he was in his late fifties. The Marlboro Hag thought she had the contest sewn up. She laughed and said, “She really is pushy.”
“I’ll give you a discount,” I blurted out, without even thinking.
Eguchi responded immediately. “In that case, I’ll buy you.”
The Marlboro Hag picked up her shoulder bag and frowned.
“You’re really a cold bastard, Eguchi. She doesn’t have what I have, you know.”
“Well, a change does everybody good now and then.”
I felt triumphant. I handed the Hag the carton of cigarettes. She took it with a look of resignation, but then a smile washed over her face. This annoyed me.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. But you’ll see, sooner or later,” she mumbled to herself.
Well, you should know; it’s time for you to retire, you old bitch, I grumbled in my heart. Ha! I won!
“Feel free to stay here until I get back,” I said cavalierly, as I linked my arm in Eguchi’s. His arm was thick for his age and muscular.
“That place’ll be good. It’s cheap.”
Eguchi pointed to the hotel where I’d gone earlier with Arai. It was the cheapest love hotel in the area. It seemed Eguchi knew his way around.
“How long have you been standing on corners?”
?
??Since tonight. I’ve taken over the Marlboro Hag’s turf, so I hope to keep your patronage.”
“Well, you work fast. What’s your name?”
“Yuri.”
We continued to chat as we stepped into the tiny elevator. Eguchi’s eyes were full of curiosity as he looked at me. Eguchi, Yoshizaki, Arai—they were all the same. And now they were my regulars. I felt my mood grow buoyant, realizing I was doing pretty well in the business.
We went in the same room Arai and I had used. It had just been a few days ago, but I ran the water in the bath as if I’d never been there before and took out two glasses. Then I pulled a bottle of beer out of the minibar and opened it. Eguchi sat on the bed and watched what I was doing. He looked displeased.
“Don’t bother with that now. Help me with my clothes.”
“Yes, sir, right away.”
I looked at Eguchi in surprise. He was angry and his face had turned red. I wondered if he was going to be a difficult customer. What if he were dangerous? I tried to remember the names of the men who had been listed in the hotel agency as troublemakers.
“Hurry up!” Eguchi shouted. I helped him out of his suit jacket, still reeling in shock. I wasn’t used to doing it, and I didn’t do a very good job. The smell of his cheap pomade was sickening. I folded his threadbare shirt and trousers on a hanger and hung them up. Once he was down to his baggy undershirt and his yellowed briefs, he pointed down at his feet.
“Hey, you forgot my socks!”
“Oh, sorry.”
When I’d pulled off his socks, Eguchi stood there in his underwear with his arms crossed and his legs spread apart like he was the frigging King of Siam.
“Well, get a move on!”
When I looked up at him to see what it was he wanted, he slapped me hard on my cheek. Instinctively I tried to defend myself.
“Don’t be so violent!”
“Shut up, bitch, and get your clothes off. I want you naked and standing on the bed.”
He was a sadist. Was he into some kind of sick game? Just my luck to pick a sicko for a customer, I thought. I trembled as I took my clothes off. When I was completely naked I climbed up on the bed and stood there, terrified. When Eguchi barked his command, I thought my ears were deceiving me.