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Authors: John Burnham Schwartz
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Japan. And he was aware that Boon was taking it in, not necessarily understanding all the Japanese, but knowing what was behind it, watching him.
It had been an easy dinner, Alec thought. A good dinner. And he had contributed to it, had kept the conversation flowing just the way he thought it should. Only to have Boon ruin it now with his determined silence. Alec waited, but still no one said a word. Finally he cleared his throat loudly and looked at Imamura.
“Do you follow American baseball, Imamura-san?”
Startled, Imamura mumbled, No, and glanced questioningly at Boon. Alec was about to ask him another question when he saw Boon staring at him. He closed his mouth, looked hard at the menu, and decided not to speak for the rest of the evening.In the pachinko world of his head, a jackpot had been struck. Little silver balls of pain were bouncing everywhere.
“I think this is my favorite view of Tokyo,” Boon said. “There’s always a mist, or cloud cover, or something. And with those great skyscrapers poking through. It hardly looks real.”
It was just the two of them now, and it was late. They sat sprawled in deep lounge chairs on the top floor of the Akasaka Prince Hotel. Alec took a sip of beer and followed Boon’s gaze through the huge picture window. Above its blanket of mist, the city seemed to shoot off in every direction; to snake and sprawl, to rise skyward, lifting him with it. He felt his exhaustion turn to awe at the play of shadow and light. To the left, Boon pointed out the dark outlines of the grounds of the Imperial Palace, a vast expanse of land in a city where so little was available that a golf club membership could cost a million dollars.
Boon pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Tonight was the first time Alec had seen him when he wasn’t bursting with energy. He felt closer to him because of it, as though he had been let in on a secret.
“You look kind of tired.” He said it timidly, not sure that it was the right thing to do. He waited.
Boon stopped rubbing his eyes, his glasses fell back into place. The corners of his mouth turned up a little. “Yeah, I guess I am. Sometimes it just catches up with me.”
“Please don’t stay up for my sake, Mr. Boon. I can just finish my drink and head home. It’s really no problem.”
“Not at all, Alec,” Boon said. “You’ll find you get used to being tired over here, the hours are so much longer. Also, I guess I’m getting a little older—forty’s not so young anymore. Though it doesn’t always feel like forty. There’s so much to do.” He paused. “And please, call me Joe. Japan’s so formal I almost never hear my first name anymore. I kind of miss it. Okay?”Alec nodded his head. “Good,” Boon said, then slapped his thigh. “Anyway, I didn’t bring you up here to subject you to my ramblings. I want to know what you thought of the dinner, what kinds of things you picked up from it.”
“Maybe you could tell from my behavior at the table that I wasn’t really sure what was going on,” Alec said.
“Yes, actually, I could.” Boon smiled suddenly. “But that’s okay. Just tell me what you thought.”
“Well, I thought the dinner was going fine until everyone stopped talking. Then, suddenly, it all felt very awkward. That’s when I made the mistake of asking Imamura about baseball. Then you gave me that look and I shut up for good. How’s that?”
“Fair enough,” Boon said. “I decided about halfway through that it wasn’t the time to talk business. It was clear that they were expecting some serious discussion of the proposal—Imamura is the highest man they’ve sent over so far—and I sensed that it might be in our best interest to keep them a little off balance. So, the dinner was really just another chance to feel them out, to get a better understanding of who we’re doing business with.” He took a sip of his drink. “I wanted you there for a couple of reasons,
It had been an easy dinner, Alec thought. A good dinner. And he had contributed to it, had kept the conversation flowing just the way he thought it should. Only to have Boon ruin it now with his determined silence. Alec waited, but still no one said a word. Finally he cleared his throat loudly and looked at Imamura.
“Do you follow American baseball, Imamura-san?”
Startled, Imamura mumbled, No, and glanced questioningly at Boon. Alec was about to ask him another question when he saw Boon staring at him. He closed his mouth, looked hard at the menu, and decided not to speak for the rest of the evening.In the pachinko world of his head, a jackpot had been struck. Little silver balls of pain were bouncing everywhere.
“I think this is my favorite view of Tokyo,” Boon said. “There’s always a mist, or cloud cover, or something. And with those great skyscrapers poking through. It hardly looks real.”
It was just the two of them now, and it was late. They sat sprawled in deep lounge chairs on the top floor of the Akasaka Prince Hotel. Alec took a sip of beer and followed Boon’s gaze through the huge picture window. Above its blanket of mist, the city seemed to shoot off in every direction; to snake and sprawl, to rise skyward, lifting him with it. He felt his exhaustion turn to awe at the play of shadow and light. To the left, Boon pointed out the dark outlines of the grounds of the Imperial Palace, a vast expanse of land in a city where so little was available that a golf club membership could cost a million dollars.
Boon pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Tonight was the first time Alec had seen him when he wasn’t bursting with energy. He felt closer to him because of it, as though he had been let in on a secret.
“You look kind of tired.” He said it timidly, not sure that it was the right thing to do. He waited.
Boon stopped rubbing his eyes, his glasses fell back into place. The corners of his mouth turned up a little. “Yeah, I guess I am. Sometimes it just catches up with me.”
“Please don’t stay up for my sake, Mr. Boon. I can just finish my drink and head home. It’s really no problem.”
“Not at all, Alec,” Boon said. “You’ll find you get used to being tired over here, the hours are so much longer. Also, I guess I’m getting a little older—forty’s not so young anymore. Though it doesn’t always feel like forty. There’s so much to do.” He paused. “And please, call me Joe. Japan’s so formal I almost never hear my first name anymore. I kind of miss it. Okay?”Alec nodded his head. “Good,” Boon said, then slapped his thigh. “Anyway, I didn’t bring you up here to subject you to my ramblings. I want to know what you thought of the dinner, what kinds of things you picked up from it.”
“Maybe you could tell from my behavior at the table that I wasn’t really sure what was going on,” Alec said.
“Yes, actually, I could.” Boon smiled suddenly. “But that’s okay. Just tell me what you thought.”
“Well, I thought the dinner was going fine until everyone stopped talking. Then, suddenly, it all felt very awkward. That’s when I made the mistake of asking Imamura about baseball. Then you gave me that look and I shut up for good. How’s that?”
“Fair enough,” Boon said. “I decided about halfway through that it wasn’t the time to talk business. It was clear that they were expecting some serious discussion of the proposal—Imamura is the highest man they’ve sent over so far—and I sensed that it might be in our best interest to keep them a little off balance. So, the dinner was really just another chance to feel them out, to get a better understanding of who we’re doing business with.” He took a sip of his drink. “I wanted you there for a couple of reasons,
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