Inhabitation by Teru Miyamoto

Author:Teru Miyamoto
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781640092181
Publisher: Counterpoint
Published: 2019-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

8

Tetsuyuki placed the two bags of an elderly German couple in the entrance to their guest room. The luggage was so heavy that he wondered what could possibly be in it. He bowed and was about to leave when the wife grabbed his elbow with her soft hand.

Neither of them could speak English, but with exaggerated gestures asked him to wait a moment. He had never received a tip from a foreign guest. Foreigners who visit Japan have all been thoroughly instructed by the guidebooks that tipping is not necessary and never offer so much as a 100-yen coin.

The white-haired husband and wife were small of stature and gentle of countenance. Discussing something in German, the two of them fumbled about in their pockets, opened their wallets, and shrugged their shoulders with embarrassed looks. She took a 10,000-yen bill out of her wallet and said something in an apologetic tone. Judging from their exchanges with each other and from the expressions on their faces, Tetsuyuki realized that they wished to give him a tip but unfortunately aside from this bill did not have suitable small change between them and were at a loss what to do. Waving his hand, he smiled and used the only German he knew.

“Danke schön!”

Then he bowed again and left the room. The husband followed after him, mimicking walking unsteadily carrying two bags. He brought Tetsuyuki to a halt with a hand on his shoulder, then hurried by himself toward the elevator. It seemed he intended to break the 10,000-yen bill at the front desk. Tetsuyuki declined to accept the money, explaining in his imprecise English that the kind thought was sufficient reward, that carrying bags was his job, and that no tip was necessary. Taking the bill from the old man’s hand, Tetsuyuki folded it in two and returned it to the man’s coat pocket.

But the old man was obstinate and waited for the elevator to arrive, indicating to Tetsuyuki to remain there. His wife then came out of the room and said something to him, to which he grunted a reply and put an arm around Tetsuyuki’s shoulders, speaking to him in German. The wife smiled at Tetsuyuki. He recalled that one of the cooks down in the kitchen had spent three years working in Munich and, motioning for the elderly couple to wait in their room, got on the elevator. He opened the door to the basement kitchen and looked about for Nabeshima. Their busiest hours had ended, and the cooks were leaning against wooden crates and walls, smoking. He found Nabeshima sitting by an enormous refrigerator, leafing through a weekly magazine.

“Some German guests I showed to their room tried to detain me, but I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Could you come interpret for me?”

A good-natured man, Nabeshima sometimes secretly passed on to Tetsuyuki cake or roast beef that guests had left untouched.

“Just leave it to me.” He got up and followed Tetsuyuki. The German couple were still waiting for Tetsuyuki in the hallway.

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