In part 1, Mr.
Teruya, a Japanese businessman, was shocked when a lady stood up to let him take
her seat. It was the first time someone
had offered him a seat on a train due to his age.
Part 2:
The woman had
moved several yards away to stand holding a long pole near the doors. She glanced round at him and he gave her
another little bow. Sitting in the seat
she had just vacated, he smelled a sweet scent, a subdued perfume.
***
Andy could smell
the river. He had lain down on a bench
overlooking the concreted banks. And somehow
he had fallen asleep despite the night chill.
He sat up and stretched, feeling a pain behind his eyes and body aches from
lying on a cold stone bench.
He fumbled for
his cigarettes and lighter. He tried to
take stock of where he was as he lit up and wisps of smoke drifted into the
dawn sky.
His flatmate Phil
had taken the last train home. Andy had
found another bar. He had been chatting
with a group of young Japanese guys.
There had been some plan or other to go hunting for girls. But somehow the plan had petered out as everybody
got drunk, and Andy had slipped away. He
couldn’t remember if he had contributed to the bill. He felt a pocketful of coins, along with a
few small value notes. He had certainly
been paying for something.
After leaving the
bar, he had wandered, looking for somewhere to pass the hours until dawn and
the trains started up again. He had
stumbled towards lights on a number of occasions hoping for an all-night cafe,
a bar, a strip club, anything. But they
had all turned out to be convenience stores, parking lots, vending machines, and
the like.
So in the end he
had found this little bench. He was glad
it looked out over the dirty river. It
smelled like he felt.
He smoked the
cigarette three quarters of the way to the nub and then threw it on the ground,
stamping out the flame. His mouth was
incredibly dry and he looked around for a vending machine. He turned away from the river and back to
what he hoped was the direction of civilization. Even if he got his directions muddled, he
couldn’t go too far wrong. In Tokyo you
were never more than twenty feet away from a vending machine. Or was that rats?
Sure enough, he
soon found a vending machine. Here was a
chance to get rid of some of these coins weighing down his pocket. There was lemon water, peach water, fizzy
water. It might not be a bad idea to get
a drink of water sometime soon, and rehydrate, he thought. But who pays for water?
He found a hot
coffee, the ubiquitous American actor looking extremely satisfied with himself
as he drank it in a little advertising poster behind a sample can. Andy paid his 120 yen and the machine spat
out a can.
He picked up the
coffee, pulled back the ring and took a swig.
It did little to lessen his thirst and in fact it made him feel like
vomiting. He forced himself to take
another swig. Then he balanced the can
on top of the machine and fished about for his cigarettes and lighter again.
Peering ahead, he
saw a little foot traffic. A man in a business
suit disappeared down a set of stone steps.
A train station, he hoped.
***
Mr. Teruya sat
with his back straight, looking at the floor of the carriage. He could find the woman again easily from
this position and he did so at regular intervals. Normally he took the opportunity to close his
eyes and perhaps drift into sleep if he got a seat. But today he couldn’t stop thinking about
what had just happened.
He had an
overwhelming desire to confess. When it
came his time to get off the train, he would pass close to the woman. He would thank her and she would smile. He would say, “You know that today was the
first time that I have been given a seat because of my age.”
She would
probably start to apologise, maybe a blush would spread across her face. But he would stop her. “Don’t worry about it. It’s natural.
There’s a first time for everything and, to be honest, I was quite tired.” The doors would open and...
His thoughts were
interrupted as a large man came to stand in front of him. It was a tubby Caucasian, dressed in grubby
black jeans and wearing a thick woollen sweater over the paunch directly in
front of Mr. Teruya’s head. A belch came
from the man’s reddish, unshaven face and the smell of alcohol, tobacco and
sweat overwhelmed the sweet scent of the office lady’s perfume. The man swayed unsteadily on his feet as if
struggling to stay awake. His greasy,
matted hair sat in wild dark curls, like the fleece of a black sheep.
Vocabulary:
subdued – soft
and restrained
to take stock of
something – of a situation, to make an overall assessment
to peter out – to
gradually become weaker or smaller before disappearing or stopping
muddled –
confused or mixed up
ubiquitous –
appearing everywhere or found everywhere
a swig – a single
large gulp of a drink
tubby – (informal)
short and rather fat
a paunch – a
large belly which sticks out
a belch – a large
or noisy burp; wind brought up from the stomach, through the mouth
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