Moshi-Moshi by Banana Yoshimoto

Author:Banana Yoshimoto
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619028661
Publisher: Counterpoint
Published: 2016-10-19T04:00:00+00:00

THE WOMAN TURNED UP at Les Liens just before the end of lunch service one day.

She came through the door behind a swarthy man with dark features, who said, “We just want a cup of tea.” She stood and stared at me from behind him.

“We close at three, is that all right?” I said.

“Yes, please,” said the man. I couldn’t place it, but he had a trace of a regional accent.

The woman, who I assumed was his wife, had pretty, round eyes, and a slightly melancholy expression. She had quite a strong build, and she gave the impression of a hard worker used to being on her feet. She had a guidebook to Tokyo, so I thought they were tourists.

The two of them ordered coffee, chatted quietly for a while, and then asked for a slice of apple pie to share.

After serving them the pie, I went to sweep the sidewalk outside, and then got back into the kitchen to prep for dinner, and wasn’t keeping a very close eye on the couple. I heard a chair scrape and went back to the dining room, expecting them to want to pay. The woman counted out exact change and handed it to me. I thanked her, and I thought that would be the end of it.

Then she said, “My name is Nakanishi. I’ve come from Ibaraki.”

Ugh, not Ibaraki, I thought.

“We’re in Tokyo to attend a memorial for a relative, but there’s something I wanted to talk to you about . . . about your father,” she said. “Could you give me five minutes? My husband’s waiting outside, as you can see, so I won’t take any more of your time. I came here hoping to speak to you.”

“I understand,” I said, and nodded, feeling nervous, and went to get permission from Michiyo-san, who took one look at my expression and immediately said yes.

The woman started talking, still standing by the cash register.

“The man waiting outside is my second husband. My previous husband was nearly killed . . . by that woman,” she said.

My vision went dark. In an instant, I saw what it meant to meet someone—it meant connecting with them, for good or for bad.

“In my case, their suicide pact failed, so it only destroyed our marriage. But that woman had been looking for a man to drag down with her for a long time. She was known for it locally. She worked at a hostess bar, and tried to get her clients to die with her. It wasn’t just her looks—there was something about her that well-bred men with a weakness found irresistible, and got sucked into. They were wrong to let themselves be, of course, but that woman bewitched them. My former husband lived with her for a while after we separated, but he fell ill and died a long time ago. I imagine she sucked the life out of him. There are people who will do that.”

“I see . . .” I felt strangely touched to know that there was someone else who had gone through what Dad had.

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