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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