Sunny by Colin O’Sullivan

Author:Colin O’Sullivan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2023-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

15

A ball hits the backboard, seems to spend an age revolving around the steel rim and finally it falls into the basket, plopping out through the netting and giving birth to a celebratory whoop of delight from a now buoyant section of the spectators.

Susie is watching all this, amazed that it matters so much to them: the roars that greet every basket, every dribbling run, every vital interception and slam dunk; the terminology is quick to become part of her vocabulary, so soon it is ready to wear. It was the same when watching sports at home in her own country as a young girl, the passion that rose when the boys of the neighbourhood either played, watched, or simply talked about a particular sport. Their eyes widened as they debated the finer points of free kicks, penalty kicks, bicycle kicks or any other kick you cared to mention. Masa was like this too, in the sports bar, his cheeks reddening from over-alcohol and over-excitement, both managing to raise his heart levels—she was surprised that he never keeled over right then and there, blood pressure skyrocketing, the heart no longer able to take the strain.

But he was getting his kicks, she supposed. Boys, and their games.

The whistle blows and Susie is thankful that the game has ended. She watches the crowd trickle out and the arena quickly becoming an empty shell.

She loiters outside the changing room, feeling awkward, hoping she will not be mistaken for some frisky fan itching to get laid by one of the languorous lanky players—how is it that they move so slowly off the court, all cumbersome and slouchy, yet on the shiny floor they zoom by at terrific speeds, all antic and agile? She never was the groupie type. She is not here to please herself. But because she is a foreigner it seems as if she is given a free pass to go wherever she likes—they might think her a wife or girlfriend of one of the Americans; it would make perfect sense to anyone passing by: all those foreigners stuck together, didn’t they?

She edges nearer to the dressing-room door and a few howls of excitement erupt inside when she is noticed. Naturally there are ribald comments in Japanese, excited over-loud invitations to enter, suggestions that there might be something she might enjoy in there, or if she’d like to meet their sons. Susie knew to translate “son” to penis. She’d heard it often enough before. In the streets she frequents when the sun goes down, it is something that is often boisterously bawled out, and something she knows now to ignore.

One of the Americans, already showered and half-dressed, comes to the door to meet her. He is shirtless, and Susie can’t help but admire the impressive physique, the long torso, ropey arm muscles and the gorgeous, shining black skin.

She immediately berates herself, not knowing her own body still housed such feelings of arousal. It feels like infidelity.

“You the girl from the paper?”

Osanai must’ve rang ahead and warned of her arrival.

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