Peter Wodarz writes

The Sun Set, And Then, in the Morning, It Rose, Book I, Chapter 1: The Bitch, the Bastard, and the Housewife

Section 2

Makoto arrived at the Chez Banane forty-five minutes late. He was hoping that Yumiko would have left, but when he slipped in behind a young couple, he saw her sitting at the bar. She was wearing the brown hat, an old French beret she felt made her unique. On their second date, she told him that she had bought it from an old, nearly toothless woman in a secondhand clothes shop in Paris when she was there on holiday three years previously. She had been in France six days; it was her only trip abroad. She often wore the hat when they met; he didn`t have the heart to tell her that the hat made her look homely.

The bar was almost full, so it was easy for Makoto to slip in behind the couple and find a table in the back. A waiter came and took his order. When the waiter brought the whisky, Makoto took a swig, leaned back, and watched Yumiko. Obviously bored, she sat leaning forward, twirling her straw in her nearly finished drink. She looked at her watch. She twirled some more. She bent over the glass and took the straw into her mouth.

Makoto felt exhausted, and he could sense he was coming down with a cold. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief; he took off his glasses and wiped his face. He couldn`t believe that it was still snowing.

When he replaced his glasses, he looked back at the bar; Yumiko had noticed him and was looking his way. She gathered her coat from her chair and walked over slowly. He stood when she approached and feigned surprise and concern. “Yumiko, how long have you been sitting there?"

 “What time were we supposed to meet?”

 “At eight.” 

“I`ve been sitting there since eight.” 

“What time is it now?” 

“It`s nearly nine.” 

“But I got here just after eight. This is my second drink.” 

“How could you miss me?” 

“Are you sure you arrived at eight? Perhaps you were late.” 

“I told you I would be at the bar. I wasn`t late.” 

“Did you? I must have forgotten.” 

“Didn`t you recognize me?” 

“I didn`t recognize the hat.” 

“What do you mean? I always wear this beret, especially when I see you.” 

“Really? I guess I hadn`t noticed.” 

The two stood looking at each other. He could see that she was angry, so he smiled. “Aren`t you going to sit down? Let`s forget about this unfortunate misunderstanding. What do you want to drink?” He motioned to the waiter, who quickly approached and took her order. The two sat across from each other.

"I'm not well.”

“What do you mean?”

 

“I`m coming down with a cold.”

She reached across the table and indifferently felt his forehead and then his cheek. “You don`t feel hot.”

“I can sense a cold coming on.”

 “Maybe you should tell Mary. I am sure she would take very good care of you.”

 Makoto frowned. “Don`t call her Mary.”

 “Why not? You seem to think Mary is a nice name.”

 

“It is a nice name.”

“Do you want me to call her and tell her how nice it is?”

“She already knows.”

“I`ll call her and tell her.”

“What will you tell her?”

“I will tell her about us. I bet she doesn`t know.”

“Do you have my number?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don`t you call? She`s home preparing dinner.” 

“I will.”

 

“Go ahead. I insist.”

Their eyes met; his were warm and animated while hers were cold and calculating.

“Do you need some coins?”

 

She didn`t respond.

“Want to use my phone card?” He pulled out his wallet from his inside breast pocket and withdrew a telephone card from it. “Here. I saw a telephone just outside the front door by the elevator.” She took it from him and stood up. As she walked toward the bar`s front door, he called after her, “It`s a new card, so please bring it back.” Then he leaned back and sipped his whisky.

When she returned five minutes later, he stood up, politely helped her into her chair, and sat down after she did. 

“So how is Mariko?” 

“Mary is fine.”

“What was she doing?” 

“You were right. She`s cooking dinner.” 

He leaned forward and pretended to be engaged. “Really? What is she making?” 

"I didn`t ask.”   

“I suppose the two of you didn`t talk about cooking.” 

“No, we didn`t.” 

“Did you talk about my leaving her for you? You told her that that is what I desperately want, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“And how did she take the news? I hope she wasn`t too upset.” He leaned back and smiled broadly. 

“I wasn`t there. I mean I didn`t see her reaction.”

 

“But what did the tone of her voice convey?”

“She told me it didn`t matter.” After a pause, she added, “She has a lover.”

Makoto beamed; he called over the waiter and ordered himself another whisky.

After the waiter returned, Makoto took a generous sip and said sarcastically, “You don`t know how good I feel! I mean I`m glad it`s all out in the open.” Then his smile disappeared, and he continued in a menacing undertone. “Now I won`t have to listen to the phone ring in the middle of the night knowing it`s you. Mariko does wonder. And we won`t have to meet here anymore at this dump that you call a café. I`ll just move into your place! Won`t that be fun! And you won`t have to call the office three or four times a day pretending to be a client. Why, you ask? Because I won`t have a job to go to. Why won`t I have a job? Well, can you imagine the scandal when the president finds out his son-in-law has left his only daughter? That ought to be a good laugh. They won`t let me even clean the toilets! And I keep reminding myself this is what you want. Every time we meet you ask when. I keep telling you it`s not going to happen, that it can`t happen, but you keep right on asking. No, not asking. Demanding." 

Yumiko sat with her head bowed. Makoto stirred his whisky and ice with his index finger. Then he took another greedy gulp. 

“Look at me.” 

She didn`t respond. 

“I said look at me.” 

She slowly raised her head; their eyes met. He addressed her in English: “Don`t be a bitch to me, and I won`t be a bastard to you.” 

“What?” 

He translated his last sentence into Japanese. 

“I am not a bitch,” she snapped. “A bitch would have called her and told her!” 

“I met you a month after my wedding. What did you say then? You drop your purse, I pick it up, and the next thing I know we`re having a couple of drinks. What did you say next? Huh? Didn`t you say you knew a place that had a nice view of the bridge? Didn`t you say that, or was that a different girl?” 

She sat there mute. 

“You know what they say in America? `Did the cat get your tongue?` Yumiko, did the cat get your tongue?” He reached across the small table and roughly grabbed one of her wrists. “What did you say to me then?” 

“I said I knew a place that had a nice view of the Aomori Bay Bridge.” 

“And then where did you take me?” 

“I took you to a hotel.” 

“And now you want me to leave my wife.” He released his grip and leaned back. She sat before him subdued. Makoto finished his whisky. 

“I am going now.” He stood up and began to put on his overcoat. “I won`t be seeing you anymore.” 

He pulled out his wallet and set a 10,000 yen note on the table. 

“I`m going to call. This time I will.” 

“It`s over. It never began.” 

“I will.” 

“I thought you said you aren`t a bitch.” 

“I`m not.” 

He sighed. “All this talk is growing tiresome. Why don`t we just go to the hotel then?” 

“What hotel?” 

“The one we always go to.” 

“I may not feel like going.” 

“Then I am going home.” 

“I didn`t say I didn`t want to.” 

“Mariko, what do you want from me?” 

“My name is not Mariko!” she hissed. 

He had made a genuine error. He sighed again, took off his glasses with his right hand, and rubbed his temple with his left. “You see, I really am ill. How could I call you Mariko? You and she have nothing in common whatsoever. She`s not a bitch.”

She stood up abruptly. “Let`s go!” 

Down on the busy street, it was still snowing heavily. Makoto hailed a cab. When the driver asked the destination, Makoto remained silent. Yumiko said, “Ikebana-dori.” The driver nodded and nudged the cab out into traffic. It was slow going on account of the snow and the evening congestion. 

“Is there a specific address, ma`am?” 

“I`ll tell you when to stop,” Yumiko replied. 

Ikebana-dori was a district famous for its bars and love hotels. The Endless Pink, the hotel Yumiko and Makoto frequented, was located there. 

Up in the room, Makoto opened the heavy drapes and looked out at the bridge. “You know, the view is impressive. Even in this snow. I have to thank you for showing it to me.” 

“Would you like something to drink?” 

He turned and faced her. “That`s the first nice thing you said to me all evening.” 

She didn`t respond. He left the window and sat down in a chair near the bed. “Please. I`ll have a beer.” 

She removed a can of Kirin from the small refrigerator and handed it to him without looking at him. She turned away from him, took off her coat, and sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. 

He opened the can and drank half of it; he was examining the outside of it as he spoke. “I thought you didn`t want to come.”

  
She opened her purse. She found a small pocket mirror and a tube of lipstick. As she looked into the mirror, she began reapplying the red to her lips. “You think it`s funny,” she said.

He laughed. “I didn`t mean to. It just came out. Mariko… Yumiko… you have to admit, they`re similar.”

“They`re not.”

“Well, I apologize.” He looked at the can some more; then he finished it.

She continued looking in the mirror. She removed the beret and touched up her hair.

“So how do you look?”

“I look fine.”

“Not beautiful?”

“I`m not an overly attractive woman.”

“Really?” He laughed again. “What are your charms then?”

When she didn`t respond, he said, “Well, how do I look? You haven`t looked at me in a long time.”

She didn`t turn toward him.“Do you want me to take off my clothes?”

She said nothing. She was still looking into her mirror and playing with her hair.

“Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“No.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“We came here to talk.”

He chuckled. “I didn`t know there was something to talk about.” He stood up and took off his overcoat and threw it on the chair behind him. Then he removed his suit jacket. He moved over to where she sat on the bed. He stood her up, moved behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Come on. Off with the dress.”

“Are we going to take a bath first?”

“Not tonight.”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “It`s been a nice summer, hasn`t it?”

“I don`t understand what you are saying.”

“You blossomed like a flower.” He was speaking again in English.

“You spend a year in America. You work there. You speak English. You think you`re so smart.”

“But all flowers fade.” He began massaging her shoulders and neck.

“Shut up.”

“Even the most beautiful ones fade.”

“I`m not listening.”

“The seasons change and the flower dies.” He moved his hands down and massaged her breasts. “Take off your clothes.” He whispered this last sentence in Japanese.

She reached behind her and unzipped her dress; it fell to the floor. She turned to embrace him, but he held her in place. He walked them over a few feet to the left so they stood in front of a wide floor-to-ceiling mirror. As he stood behind her, he ran his hands over her slim body. Then he pulled down her stockings so she wore only her bra and panties. She leaned back into him.

“Like a rabbit.” Again, he spoke in English.

“I don`t know what you`re saying.”

“Of course you don`t.”

He pulled down her panties, and she stepped out of them; he undid her bra. He massaged and kissed her back and shoulders and neck and breasts before he led her over to the bed. He positioned her so she lay in the middle. He found her purse, which she had left at the foot of the bed. With his shoes still on, he crawled onto the bed and straddled her stomach. He shook out the contents of the purse next to her. He brushed through the various items until he found the lipstick. He took off the cap and threw it on the floor. He twisted it so the red tip stuck out. He smiled down at her; she returned the smile. He grabbed her right breast. Over the small, erect nipple, he wrote the letter “B.” He followed it with an “i.” Their eyes met. She smiled again. On the space between her breasts he drew a “t.” Then he grabbed her left breast and followed the “B-i-t” with a “c” and an “h.” When he was finished with his artwork, he sailed the lipstick across the room. Looking down at the word on her chest, she asked, “What does it mean?”

“Quiet.” He slid off her and slowly brought her right hand down between her legs. She was already very wet. 

“I want you to masturbate.” He moved her hand for her until she did it on her own. He bent down and whispered in her ear, “Don`t stop.” He got off the bed and stood looking down at her. 

“I`m going to go outside and come back in again. Pretend you don`t know me. I`m just some guy who came to the wrong room. I`m an overworked, exhausted stockbroker. It`s been a long day. I want to sleep. I need to sleep. But instead I find you, the most beautiful woman in the world.” Yumiko`s smile grew; her dark eyes twinkled. 

“Are you wet?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

She closed her eyes and nodded quickly; she breathed faster. 

“I didn`t mean to be rude to you earlier. Please forgive me.” 

“I forgive you." 

“Do you want me inside you?" 

“Yes.” 

“Don`t stop.” 

He glanced around the room; he saw what he wanted. He went over to the bedside lamp and switched off the light. In the darkness, he gathered the few items and walked to the door. Before he opened it, he called to her, “Yumiko, please don`t stop. Do it for me.” Outside, he took the elevator down to the street and caught a cab to his apartment.