Grotesque
I hadn’t had a customer in so long, I didn’t want him to get away. I was desperate. The man relented and pulled several thousand-yen bills out of his wallet. Then he hung his head.
“I’m sorry. This is all I’ve got on me. But I won’t ask any more of you. I’ll leave now.”
“Hey, I’m a professional in a major firm. Don’t you want to know why I turn to prostitution at night?”
I turned over on my side on the bed and tried to look alluring. The man snapped his wallet closed and pulled on his coat. I hurried to collect my things as well. I didn’t want to get stuck with the room bill. The man left the room and marched up to the registration desk to haggle over the fee. He had clearly lost his earlier buzz.
“We didn’t mess the room up or anything, so why don’t you just charge me half price. We weren’t even there for ten minutes.”
The receptionist glanced quickly at me. He was a middle-aged man very obviously wearing a toupee.
“All right, I’ll let you off for fifteen hundred yen.”
The man handed over two thousand-yen bills with obvious relief. When the attendant handed him a five-hundred yen coin in return, the man told him to keep it for his troubles.
“It’s not much. But I appreciate your understanding.”
When I heard the man say this, I immediately stuck out my hand. “Hey, wait a minute. I think that belongs to me. After all, I was the one who had to endure your kisses for a lousy three thousand yen!”
Both the man and the receptionist stared at me in amazement. But I didn’t bat an eye, and in the end the receptionist gave me the coin.
It was nearing time for the last train of the evening. I bought another can of beer and drained it. I walked down the stone stairs again and headed back to Shinsen Station. My earnings for the night amounted to ¥3,000–¥3,500 if you add the tip I wormed out of the hotel receptionist. But with the cost of the beer and squid, I was in the red. As I walked down the street to the station, I could see the apartment building where Zhang lived. I turned to look up at the fourth-floor windows. A light was on in his unit.
“Well, we meet again. You’re looking well.”
I heard a voice behind me. It was Zhang. I tossed the empty beer can to the side of the street, where it bounced with a clatter. Zhang was wearing his leather jacket and jeans, just as he had the other night. The expression on his face was serious. I glanced at my watch.
“I still have a little time. Do you think the fellows in your apartment would want to fool around again?”
“I’m really sorry,” Zhang said, somewhat apologetically, “but you didn’t make a big hit with them. Both Dragon and Chen-yi thought you were too skinny. They like a woman with a bit more meat.”
“Well, what about you?”
Zhang rolled his big eyes. His brows were thick and his lips full and other than the fact that he was balding, he was really my type. For some reason I wanted to be with him.
“I don’t care. Any woman will do for me.” Zhang laughed. “Any woman other than my sister.”
“If that’s the case, will you hold me?”
I threw myself against Zhang’s body. The Shibuya-bound train on the Inokashira Line had just pulled into the station and passengers were crowding the platform. They stared at us, but I didn’t care. Zhang did. With an embarrassed look, he wrapped his arms around me, trying to keep me at bay, but I continued to squirm, trying to force my way deeper into his embrace. I felt suddenly beset with sorrow.
“Will you be good to me?” I asked Zhang, in a cloying tone.
“Do you want me to be good to you? Or do you want me to have sex with you?”
“Both.”
Zhang pushed me aside roughly so he could look into my face. Then he said coolly, “Unn-uh, you have to choose. Which one?”
“Be good to me.”
As soon as I murmured my response, I knew I meant it. I hadn’t been after the money. So why the hell had I been standing there on the corner night after night? Did I just want someone to be nice to me? Surely not. I was confused. Maybe I was drunk. I pushed my hand against my forehead.
“If you want me to be good to you, will you pay me?” he asked.
I looked up at Zhang in surprise. Leering in the darkness, he looked sinister.
“Why do I have to pay? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“But what you’re asking for is skewed. You don’t like anyone, do you? Not another person, not even yourself. You’ve been duped.”
“Duped?” I cocked my head to the side, clueless as to what he meant. I didn’t try to pull my cute-girl pose; I didn’t have the energy for it.
Zhang continued cheerfully. “That’s right, duped. I just learned this expression. Technically speaking, it means someone who gets screwed or conned. You’ve let yourself be duped by everyone you meet—in your office, on the street. In the past you were duped by your father and your school.”
The last train would be leaving Shibuya Station by now. As I listened to Zhang prattle on, I looked toward the tracks. I had no choice but to go home. Just like I had no choice but to go to work the next morning. I couldn’t help it. So was I being duped by society? I remembered what the Bible lady had said to me: “It pains me to see how foolish you are.”
• 8 •
JUNE 5
During the rainy season, business all but dried up. And with the constant rainfall I didn’t feel like standing outside all night getting drenched. To top it off, the low-pressure fronts made my eyes puffy, and I felt sleepy all day long. It was harder and harder to get out of bed in the morning. All I wanted was to take the day off, and the internal battle I had to wage to get myself out the door became exhausting. Why is it that even though the spirit may be willing, the body falters? Today I got up even later than usual and sat at the table listening to the rain. My mother had already fixed my sister’s breakfast and seen her off to work. She’d retreated to her own bedroom and the house was perfectly still. I poured some water from the electric kettle and made myself a cup of instant coffee. Then, instead of eating breakfast, I crunched on a gymnema tablet. The waist-band of my navy-blue skirt was now so loose, the skirt spun around on my hips. I was trimmer now than ever. The lighter I grew, the happier I felt. At this rate I was just going to melt away into thin air. I was ecstatic. The weather might be oppressive, but I was in a jubilant mood.
The rain had begun to come down in torrents. The flowers in the garden that Mother was so proud of had been flattened: hydrangea, azaleas, roses, little flowering grasses. They were all bent down. I turned to the garden and cursed the stupid plants. As soon as the rains let up they’d bounce right back, perkier than ever from all the moisture. The little bastards! I despised my mother’s precious garden.
I looked out at the sky. No doubt business would be hopeless tonight as well. I’d only been able to work one week during the whole month of June and barely managed to pull in ¥48,000. I’d had four customers, including Yoshizaki and some drunk. I squeezed ¥30,000 out of Yoshi-zaki and the drunk gave me ¥10,000. Then I had two homeless guys. The first was the man I’d done before in the empty lot, but the other was a newcomer. I did them both outside under a rain-laced sky. It had gotten to the point where men would pay me to watch me pee out in the lot. Nothing fazed me anymore. But as a consequence I was finding it harder and harder to concentrate at work; I was always so tired. I just sat at my desk and clipped newspaper articles, and I didn’t even care which articles I clipped. Sometimes I amused myself by clipping out sections of the television listings. My boss would glare at me out of the side of his eyes, but he never said a word. The other people in the office looked at me and huddled together in whispers, but I didn’t care. Let them talk. I was strong.
I opened the morning edition of the newspaper, and after I scanned the weather report I thumbed through the society page. My eyes were caught by the crumbs of toast my sister had left behind in the paper—she’d gotten to it before me. She must have stopped to read this
page. The headline read: woman’s body discovered in apartment. The victim’s name was Yuriko Hirata. Yuriko! It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen her recently. So you’ve gone and gotten yourself killed. It was just as you predicted, wasn’t it? Congratulations. As I spoke these words in my heart, I heard the sound of laughter. Who was it? I wondered, as I looked around.
Yuriko’s spirit was hovering between the grimy ceiling and the cluttered dining table; she was looking at me. Only the upper half of her body was visible in the blue-white glow of the fluorescent light. Her face was no longer the fat, ugly face that I had seen recently. She’d returned to the luminous beauty of her youth. I spoke to her.
“It happened just the way you wanted it to, didn’t it?”
Yuriko smiled, flashing her brilliantly white teeth. “Thanks. I’ve gone ahead and died before you. What will you do now, Kazue?”
“Business as usual. I still have money to make.”
“Quit while you can.” Yuriko laughed. “You’ll never make enough to be satisfied. Besides, sooner or later the man who killed me will kill you too.”
“Who?”
“Zhang.”
Yuriko’s answer was unmistakable. But how’d she come to know Zhang? I began to work it out in my mind. Yuriko must have drawn him to her; Yuriko’s a monster; Zhang likes monsters; one thing led to another. But if that’s the way it went, was Zhang really going to kill me too?
The other day when I threw myself at him, he held me, didn’t he? I wanted Zhang to be good to me. I wanted him to hold me. Yuriko raised a slender index finger in front of her face and waved it back and forth vigorously.
“No, no, no, Kazue. Mustn’t entertain any desires of your own. No one’s going to be good to you. They don’t even want to have to pay you. Old whores like us, you know, all we’re good for is making men face the truth. That’s why they hate us.”
“Face the truth?” Before I was even aware of what I was doing I had brought my hand to my chin and tilted my head to the side.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Kazue, are you still trying to pull that cute-girl stunt? Give up already. It’s hopeless. You just don’t get it, do you?”
“I do too. I do get it. I get the fact that I’m thinner and prettier than ever.”
“Who was it gave you that bad advice?”
What was she talking about? Then I remembered that it came from someone. Was it back in high school? Yuriko’s older sister?
“It was your older sister.”
“And you believe something someone told you so long ago?” Yuriko sighed. “Kazue, you really are gullible! You’ve got to be the most credulous person I know.”
“Whatever. Yuriko, look. Tell me what you meant about facing the truth.”
“That it’s all empty. A big fat nothing.”
“Am I a big fat nothing?”
As soon as I asked I caught myself wrapping my arms around myself. I’m nothing! Empty. When did I disappear? All that was left of me was just a suit of clothes—the clothes that belonged to a graduate of Q University, an employee of G Architecture and Engineering. There was nothing inside. Then again, what is it that’s inside, anyway?
When I came to my senses I had spilled coffee all over the open page of the paper. I quickly dabbed at the table with a cloth. The paper had turned completely brown.
“Kazue, what’s wrong?”
I looked back to see my mother standing in the door to the living room. Her tiny makeup-free face was twisted in fear.
“You were talking just now. I heard your voice and I thought you were talking to someone.”
“I was talking to someone. I was talking to this person here.”
I pointed to the newspaper. But the article had become so stained with coffee, it was difficult to read it anymore. Mother didn’t say anything, just pressed her hand to her mouth in an effort to suppress a shriek. I didn’t pay her any attention but yanked my shoulder bag off the chair.
“I’ve got to make a phone call!” I shouted.
As I pulled my date book out of my bag, a snot-encrusted wad of tissue flew out, along with a dirty handkerchief. They both landed beside me on the floor. Mother stared at them angrily, but I just shooed her away.
“What’re you looking at? Get out of here.”
“You’re going to be late for work.”
“It’s no big deal if I’m just a little late. The office manager was a whole hour late the other day. And the day before that, one of the secretaries was late. Everyone does it, so why shouldn’t I? Why do I always have to be the one who’s so serious about my job? I’ve been slaving away all this time to keep you in this house. You’re damn right I’m tired of it!”
“Kazue, dear, are you doing what you do because of me? Is that it?”
My mother was mumbling. Lines of worry creased her face as she peered at me.
“It’s got nothing to do with you! I work because I’m a dutiful daughter.”
“Yes, you are.” My mother’s stammer was nearly inaudible. She didn’t seem to want to leave, but she finally went back to her room with a sour face. I flipped through my date book, looking for the address section. Yuriko’s older sister. It had been over ten years since I’d had any contact with her, but suddenly I felt I couldn’t settle down until I heard her voice. As I slowly dialed her number, I tried to figure out what it was I needed so desperately to confirm. I was absolutely baffled.
“Hello. Hello? Who is it?”
The voice on the other end of the line was sickeningly gloomy, cautious. I stated my business directly without bothering with any small talk.
“It’s me. Kazue Sat. Hey, I read Yuriko-chan’s been murdered.”
“That’s right.”
Her voice gave a hint of depression, but at the same time reverberated with a kind of calm.
Yuriko’s older sister started to make some weird sound on the other end of the phone. It was low and constant like the idling of a motorcycle. She was laughing. Hers was the laughter of one relishing a sense of relief, a laughter that revealed the joy she felt over finally being free of Yuriko. I felt the same way. To me she’d been my senior in the night trade, and she’d come out of nowhere to encroach on my turf: the former high school beauty. So I suppose we both felt that we’d somehow been set free. And then, at the same time, there was something that bound us to her.
“What’s so funny?” Yuriko’s sister demanded.
“Nothing.”
I wasn’t even laughing. Why’d she ask something like that? Yuriko’s sister was crazy. So I returned the question.
“Well, I suppose you’re sad, aren’t you?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, that’s right, you and Yuriko-chan weren’t particularly close, as I recall. It was as if you two weren’t even related. Others might not have realized you were sisters, but I picked up on it right away.”
Yuriko’s sister interrupted me. “Enough about that. What are you doing these days?”
“Guess.” I threw my shoulders back defiantly.
“I heard you’d gotten a job with an engineering firm.”
“Would you be surprised if I told you Yuriko-chan and I were in the same line of work?”
It was silent at the other end. Yuriko’s older sister must have been thinking it over. I knew she was jealous of me. She was a woman who longed to be like Yuriko but couldn’t imitate her if her life depended on it. But I was different.
“Well, I intend to be careful!”
That shut her up! I hung up hastily. But really, what had Yuriko’s older sister and I been freed from? From living? Maybe I wanted to be killed the same way Yuriko did. Because I was also a monster. And I was tired of living.
By evening the rains still had not relented. I opened my folding umbrella, dashed out into the downpour, and Station, hoping to run into Zhang. I stood in front of his apartment building and looked up at his unit, but it was pitch-black. No one had returned yet. Just when I thought I’d give up and go home, I caught s
ight of Chen-yi walking in my direction. He was wearing a thin white running shirt and shorts with beach sandals, even though the rain had cooled things off. I drew up alongside him.
“Good evening.”
When Chen-yi noticed me he stopped walking. The eyes behind his glasses darted wildly, as if he were being forced to behold something distasteful.
“I need to see Zhang, and I was wondering if he was home.”
“Zhang is probably not in. He changed jobs so he’s gone both day and night. I don’t know when he’ll come back.”
“May I wait for him in his room?”
“No. You can’t do that.” Chen-yi shook his head aggressively. “We have others staying here. It won’t do.”
He acted as if he was ashamed of having had sex with me in front of everyone else.
“Well, can I see for myself?”
I started to head up the stairs, but Chen-yi grabbed me roughly and made me stop.
“I’ll go see if he’s in or not. You wait here.”
“If he’s in, tell him that I’ll be waiting for him on the roof.”
Chen-yi regarded me with suspicion as I headed toward the stairs, but I didn’t care. The trash that littered the staircase between the fourth floor and the roof had multiplied, as if it were some kind of living organism. The entire staircase was now carpeted with garbage: wastepaper, scraps of English-language newspapers, plastic soda bottles, CD covers, torn sheets, and condoms. I kicked the junk aside with the toes of my wet shoes and made my way up the stairs. I passed the door to Zhang’s apartment and headed on up to the roof. The rain-soaked mattress was stretched across the stairs and stuck out onto the roof like a corpse—the mattress the language teacher had left behind. The mattress where Zhang now sat, his head hanging. Dingy T-shirt, blue jeans. His hair over his ears. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. Zhang was no different from the multiplying garbage. I was suddenly reminded of the plants in Mother’s garden, wrecked by the rain. Once the rains stopped, those plants would spring back up.