Grotesque (63 page)

Scaffolding had been set up and building materials lay in piles. It was as good a spot as any. I took off my trench coat in the shadow of the scaffolding.

The homeless man set his bags off to the side and whispered in my ear.

“Let me do it from the back.”

“Fine.”

I handed the man a condom, turned around, placed my hands on the scaffolding, and tilted my hips up. “It’s cold, so be quick about it.”

The man slipped inside me. What kind of man was he? Where was he from? So long as I got paid, I didn’t care one way or the other. My feelings were now that simple, that strong. It made me happy when I realized it. The man thrust himself into me insistently before finally 3 9 7

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finishing. I took the packet of tissues I’d gotten at Shibuya Station—

compliments of the Takefuji Loan Company—and used them to clean myself. The man pulled up his pants and said, “Thanks. You’re really nice. I appreciate that. I’ll find you again when I have some money.”

Then he pressed a wad of dirty bills in my hand. I smoothed the wrinkles out of the bills as I counted them; sure enough, there were eight of them. I watched the homeless man walk away from the empty lot and put the bills in my wallet. The used condom that he had thrown down in the trampled, withered grass was one I’d picked up in the hotel room I’d visited earlier with Yoshizaki. That’s right, I’ll trash the place, I’ll run havoc through the streets; I’ll do as I please! I looked up at the night sky—the cold, cold sky. The tree branches trembled but I felt exhilarated.

I had never been so free or so happy. I could satisfy any demand a man might make of me. I was a good woman.

When I returned to the Jizo statue later that night I saw a woman standing on the turf I had rightfully inherited from the Marlboro Hag. To make matters worse, she was a foreigner. I was furious. But as soon as I got closer, I saw it was Yuriko. For her part, however, Yuriko had no idea who I was. She stared at me blankly, just as dim-witted as she had been in high school. I scrutinized her. How proud she had once been of her voluptuous breasts. Now her ample chest just looked shapeless, even matronly. The wrinkles at the edges of her eyes were deep and caked with foundation. To add insult to injury, the former beauty had a double chin. But there she was in a red leather coat, wearing a flashy silver ultraminiskirt.

I wanted to burst out laughing but somehow managed to control myself.

“Yuriko!”

Yuriko stared at me in amazement. She still hadn’t figured out who I was. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you remember?”

I’ve become such a spectacular woman, Yuriko doesn’t recognize me.

On the other hand, Yuriko looks hideous. It made me feel good. I had to laugh. A cold north wind was blowing. Yuriko looked chilled and clutched her skimpy leather coat to her chest. I wasn’t fazed by cold winds or anything of the sort. After all, I’d just come back from taking 3 9 8

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care of business in an open field. I doubt you could do anything like that, you former beauty. Slut! Hell, you may have been born a whore, and you may still be turning tricks for all I know, but my God you’re ugly now.

“Might we have met at a club somewhere?” Yuriko asked, in a prissy voice.

“Guess again. My, you’ve grown old. Look at the lines on your face!

And all that flab! I hardly recognized you at first!”

Yuriko frowned and craned her neck to get a better look at me. The way she moved was still exactly the same. She was so used to being the center of attention that she had a regal way about her most mundane movements. She’d been so beautiful, so celebrated, that people naturally wanted to pick on her.

“When we were young we were like night and day, you and me. But just look at us now. We’re not that different. I suppose you could say we’re the same—or maybe it would be more accurate to put you a peg or two lower. What I’d give to show you to your friends now!”

Yuriko stared at me. Yes, in her eyes I could see the hatred she bore me. Eyes that understood every little thing around her, no matter how she tried to feign ignorance. I remembered Yuriko s older sister. Did she know how ugly Yuriko had grown? I wanted to call her up right away. She had a complex about Yuriko that she could never kick, so I imagined she was off now living a miserable life.

“You’re Kazue Sato, aren’t you?”

Yuriko finally saw through my disguise. She sounded like she was speaking down to me. Unable to check my anger, I gave her a sharp push. My hand sank immediately into her soft flesh.

“You got it! I’m Kazue. It took you long enough. This is my turf, you know. You can’t be picking up Johns here.”

“Turf?”

What an idiot. She still hadn’t figured out what I was doing there. I couldn’t believe anyone could actually be that dense. Was it so hard to believe that I would be into prostitution?

“I’m a hooker.”

“Why you, of all people?”

“Well, why you?”

My response seemed to startle Yuriko. She looked as if she were going to stumble, but I asked again.

“So, why do you do it?”

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It was a moot question. Ever since she was in junior high school, Yuriko had made her way in the world by toying with men. A bimbo like Yuriko would not have been able to survive without men. I, on the other hand, was a clever girl who could have survived just fine without a man.

And yet, here we both were—prostitutes—running into each other in front of the same Jizo statue. Two streams flowing in the same direction.

I figured it had to be fate, and that made me happy.

Yuriko started to beg. “Do you think you could let me use this spot on the nights you’re not here?”

Naturally it would be difficult for me to mind the shop here three hundred and sixty-five days a year. No matter how tenuous my existence at the firm was to become, it was not likely that I would ever actually quit. I needed the salary I earned there to support my mother. Besides, far better for Yuriko to borrow my turf occasionally than to have some woman I didn’t know at all poaching it in my absence. And then there was always the question of the yakuzas. I was afraid they would keep hounding me to put up protection money. As I stared at Yuriko s corpulent body, I began to hatch a plan.

“You want me to let you use my corner?”

“Do you mind?”

“Well, under one condition.” I grabbed Yurikos arm. “I don’t mind if you use the corner when I’m not here, but you have to dress like me, see?”

On the nights I couldn’t come, Yuriko would stand in for me—as me.

I thought it was brilliant.

• 6 •

DECEMBER 3

SHIBUYA: SOME FOREIGNERS (?), ¥10,000

The day after I met Yuriko, we had a spell of balmy springlike weather. It’s hard to pick up a customer while battling the freezing December winds; 4 0 0

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frigid weather tends to chill romantic notions. It’s much easier when the nights are warm and the customer is in high spirits. Seeing the good weather, I figured I’d have a good night. One of the interesting aspects of standing on the corner is seeing how the weather and the mood affect business. Every day it’s different. When I worked for the hotel escort agency, I never had an opportunity to make observations like these.

I headed toward the Jizo statue in a good mood, humming a song.

Once I got there I waited for Yuriko. I only half believed she’d show up.

What on earth could she be thinking? I couldn’t even imagine. When we were in high school she stood out from all the rest. She was so beautiful it was difficult even to approach her. And because she was always gazing off into space, clearly focused on nothing, she seemed even more inaccessible.

I was always too intimidated to speak to her. It wasn’t that she was absentminded; she was a master of measuring the subtle differences between herself and others. If someone asked her a question, she’d answer. Otherwise, she kept her mouth clamped shut. That was Yuriko. And I despised the sober self-aware look in her eye. But our cool Yuriko grew ugly as she grew older. Fate chased her down and devoured her. Time has a way of leveling the playing field. As I grew older, I gained a sense of self-worth and superiority. Compared to the lonely impoverished Yuriko, I now had a great job at a great firm. I suppose the fact that I had once been a properly raised lady in a decent family had a lot to do with it. As I stood there thinking that, I wanted to burst out laughing.

Decent family! What a joke. It was falling apart.

“Saint Jizo, I’m an entirely different person now. And I’m insanely happy!”

My face wreathed in smiles, I looked up at the Jizo, who was smiling quietly, as if to match my excitement. I fished through my purse for the shiniest ten-yen coin I could find, placed it in front of the statue, and brought my hands together in prayer.

“Saint Jizo, please give me four customers tonight. That’s the goal I’m setting for myself. My mission is to meet my goal. Please do what you can to help me out.”

Before I could even finish my prayer, two student types started walking toward me from Shinsen Station, speaking to each other in subdued tones. I turned back to Jizo. “Hey, quick work! Thanks a million.”

The students noticed me standing there in the dark and looked over at me as if they’d seen a ghost. I called out to them, “Hey, fellas, would one 4 o i

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of you like to party?” They looked bewildered and poked each other with their elbows.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Let’s party.”

The students were young. They looked at me in disgust, turned away, and ran. I recalled how people at work tried to avoid eye contact with me, as if they’d seen something disgusting. Even my mother, my younger sister, all they had to do was look at me and they’d cringe. It seemed that whoever looked at me could not help but recoil.

Was I completely out of bounds? I had no idea how I looked to others.

I headed off in the direction the two boys had taken.

“Let’s party our brains out. Come on. I’ll do you both. We can go to a hotel and I’ll do you both for fifteen thousand yen. What do you say?”

The two were speechless. They practically started running when they saw me behind them. But I can’t let my prey get away! And then, at that instant, I heard someone call out, “Try me. I’ll do you each, one by one.”

I couldn’t believe it. The woman on the street ahead of me, with her arms stretched out wide, was done up exactly like me. She tried to block the boys from going past her. The boys, completely taken aback, came to a halt.

“I’ll give you a better deal—five thousand yen each.”

Her black wig fell to her waist. She had a Burberry trench coat like mine, black high heels, and a brown shoulder bag. She’d painted her lids with thick blue eye shadow, and her lips were bright red. It was Yuriko.

The boys, now completely panicked, ran past her. She looked back after them and then turned around and shrugged.

“They got away.”

“Well, of course, you terrified them.”

I was angry, but Yuriko didn’t seem to care. “Don’t sweat it. The night is young. What do you think, Kazue? Do I look like you?”

Yuriko opened her trench coat. Underneath she was wearing a cheap blue suit. It resembled the one I wore. I stared at the thick layer of white foundation Yuriko wore. She looked like a clown. It was hideous. Is that what I look like? I was furious.

“Do you think I look like that?”

“You do, Kazue. You look like a monster.”

“Well, whatever happened to the beautiful half you used to be? You’re fat and ugly now.”

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Yuriko smiled scornfully, her lips curling up the way foreigners’

mouths do.

“Laugh all you want but you’re no better.”

“What do you mean, I’m no better?” I asked. “Don’t I look like a businesswoman?”

Yuriko turned an unfocused gaze on me and snorted. “No. I don’t see it. You don’t look like a businesswoman or even a young woman. In fact, you don’t even look like a middleaged woman. All you look like is a monster. M-o-n-s-t-e-r.”

I stared at Yuriko, my mirror image. Both of us were monsters.

“Well, if I’m a monster, you’re one too, Yuriko.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. A pair of whores standing around in the same outfits must be terrifying. But you know, there are men in this world who like monsters. It’s weird when you think about it. On the other hand, I suppose you could say it’s men who made us into monsters. Kazue, when is it okay for me to stand here? If it’s going to be a problem I’ll go over and stand in front of Shinsen Station.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, in no uncertain terms. “Shinsen Station’s included in my turf. I inherited the area from the Marlboro Hag, and if you don’t follow my instructions I won’t share any of it with you.”

“The Marlboro Hag?” Yuriko asked, looking up at the Jizo statue, clearly with little interest in the question.

“That’s the old woman who used to work this area. She died right after she retired.”

Yuriko smirked. Her teeth were stained yellow from cigarettes.

“What a shitty way to go. I suspect I’ll be killed by a John. Probably you too, Kazue. That’s the way it goes when you’re on the prowl. The minute a man turns up who likes monsters, you can be sure he’ll be the one who’ll do us in, you and me.”

“Why the hell do you think that? You’ve got to have a more positive attitude!”

“I don’t think my attitude is negative.” Yuriko shook her head in denial. “After whoring for twenty years, I’ve come to know men for what they really are. Or wait. Perhaps I should say I know who we really are.

At heart, a man truly hates a woman who sells her body. And any woman who sells her body hates the men who pay her for it. You get two people together with all that hate, somebody’s going to kill someone before too 4 0 3

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long. I’m just waiting for my day to come. When it does, I don’t plan to fight. I’m just going to let myself be killed.”

I wondered if Yoshizaki and Arai hated me. What about the sadist Eguchi? I couldn’t understand Yuriko’s perspective. Had she seen into the future? Had she looked at the hell that lay ahead of her? It was different for me, wasn’t it? I frequently enjoyed selling my body, though it was true that there were times when it was little more than a miserable moneymaking scheme.