We went to the next station and once again a few people got off but even more people got on. I braced myself and resisted all efforts from the boarding crowd to push me away from the door. I guess this is against Tokyo train packing etiquette because I had several people scowl at me as they pushed past me to get into the car. As we took off, I stole a glance at the two men and realized that the rush had moved them further into the car.
At the next station, I waited until the debarking and boarding passengers did their thing. Once again, it was hard to stand my ground and stay near the entrance to the car, but I managed to. From riding the Yamanote line, I knew the sequence when a train departed from the station. First they rang a bell and a voice came across the public address system. Then the doors rapidly closed as the train took off. The bell went off and I pushed my way past a young woman and a teenager who were standing between me and the door. The closing door nipped at my heels as I burst out of the car and onto the platform. A blue-uniformed platform attendant came toward me saying something in Japanese, no doubt scolding me for waiting until the last second to get off the car. I didn’t pay any attention. Instead I was staring through the windows of the departing car, looking at the two men who were stuck in the crowd like flies in amber. They abandoned all pretense of not being interested in me and stared at me with blank expressions. I wondered if I was mistaken about the men following me, but they pivoted their heads to watch me as the car went past. I couldn’t resist waving good-bye to them, a big grin on my face.
I left the platform and immediately bought another ticket for a train going back to the station where I originally got on. This train was as packed as the other, but somehow I could breathe a lot better. When I got off, I flagged down a cab to take me to the hotel. Through a mechanical contraption, the driver was able to open the back door of the cab for me without getting out. “Teikoku Hotel,” I said, mixing the Japanese word for Imperial with the English word hotel. The driver understood my linguistic amalgam and took off. I sat back into the plastic-covered seat of the cab and reflected that I liked walking in Tokyo, but I didn’t like being stalked.
9
I woke up around 3 A.M. and couldn’t get back to sleep. It was midmorning California time and I was wide awake. I called Mariko at the Kawashiri Boutique, and got Mrs. Kawashiri, the owner.
“Ken-san! I’m so glad to hear your voice. Are you calling from Tokyo?”
“Yes, I am. It’s the middle of the night here, but I can’t sleep. I slept fine the first night, but I guess I was just exhausted by the trip. I’m sorry to bother Mariko at work.”
“Don’t be silly. You can always call Mariko here, you know that. I’ll go get her. She’ll be thrilled.”
When Mariko got on the line she did seem thrilled. I realized how much I missed her.
“Ken,” she said, “it must be the middle of the night there. Has something happened?”
“No, it’s just hard to sleep. It will take a few days to get adjusted to the time shift. I’ll be adjusted just when it’s time to come home. Oh, something almost did happen. I almost got mugged in what’s supposed to be one of the safest cities in the world.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Two guys just followed me. I managed to lose them on a train. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I wish you wouldn’t tell me about things like this. Now I’ll be worried sick until you get home.”
“Now I’m sorry I told you.”
“Are you seeing anything neat?”
“Yesterday I rode around Tokyo on a train, then I explored the Ginza. I saw the old Kabuki theater and wandered through department stores.”
“Did you see a Kabuki play?”
“No, I just looked at the theater. Maybe later this week I’ll have the time. Everything is so expensive here. It’s unbelievable. Even with the TV show picking up my room and meals, I have to budget pretty carefully. What do you have planned?”
“Mary Maloney and I are going to dinner.”
Mary was helpful when I was trying to unravel the real murder I got involved in. She, Mariko, and I had become closer through that experience, but she wasn’t someone I expected Mariko to pal around with.
“That’s a surprise.”
“She called me and suggested it. She knew you were in Japan and said I must be lonely. I am. I’ve been meaning to get together with her for some time now and I was happy she called.”
Mary lived in a small house in South Pasadena that was stuffed with artwork. She said it wasn’t too expensive when her father bought most of it many years ago. That might have been true years ago, but it wasn’t true now. I estimated that there was literally millions of dollars worth of art in Mary’s unassuming house.
“I like Mary, too, although I really don’t know much about her. I hope you two have fun.”
“What’s on your agenda?”
“I plan to go to Ueno Park and the museums there. I have to check into the studio every afternoon to help on the segment they’re doing on me. After that I’ll have dinner with Buzz Sugimoto.”
“What’s he like?”
“Well, he’s a bit odd. He’s in his thirties and he dresses like James Dean. You know, jeans, cowboy boots, and white T-shirt. He even wears his hair in a 1950s jellyroll. His English is good, so I’m looking forward to talking to him.”
“Well, have fun.”
“Oh!”
“What is it?”
“I almost forgot the most exciting news of all.”
“More exciting than potential muggings?”
“Yes, because this news means money.”
“Some producer has seen your TV piece and wants you to star in a Japanese soap opera.”
“Get serious. The researcher on the News Pop show says the sword I bought may be rare and could be worth a lot of money.”
“Like millions?”
“Probably thousands, but certainly a lot more than I paid for it.”
“That is exciting!”
We said the usual lovey-dovey things you say and I hung up. I watched some TV to kill time. They run English language movies late at night in the hotel, probably because difficulty adjusting to the time shift is a common occurrence. There was a button on the TV where you could hear the original English soundtrack or a dubbed Japanese version. We have the same thing in Los Angeles, where you can hear many programs in English or Spanish.
They were playing the original Alien with Sigourney Weaver, one of my favorite science fiction films. I also like Them, starring Jim Arness and giant ants, and a whole host of old Japanese movies like Rodan (it inspired me to learn how to spell pterodactyl long before dinosaurs became popular), Gammera (who could not like a giant, spinning, jet-propelled turtle?), and Godzilla (the original English-language version, not the 1985 remake). In other words, I’m a film buff. I watched Sigourney dodge the creepy alien until I got sleepy again, and nodded off before she was finally able to blast the creature into outer space.
The next morning, the rigors of foreign travel didn’t look too stressful in the face of the really foreign travel of science fiction films. I ate another expensive breakfast and spent the day in Ueno Park looking at museums. In the late afternoon, I went to the studio and met with Junko. She said she was still waiting to hear back from the professor, but that she wanted to incorporate some information about the sword during the interview.
Buzz Sugimoto met me at Junko’s desk. He was dressed just as I saw him at the airport, looking like an Asian, and aging, James Dean. As promised, he said he would take me to a real family-style Tokyo restaurant and we took the Yamanote line to Meguro station. From there, it was just a minute’s walk to the restaurant.