Read Online Zen Attitude by Sujata Massey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sujata Massey
Ads: Link
about it. Trying to sound nicer, I said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get into the airport. How did you get into the city so fast?”
“I rang my bro when you didn’t show up. He told me to take a taxi to his office. When I got there, he said we had to haul you out. Now he’s off to pick up some lawyer. A hell of lot of running around, and all I want to do is crash.” Angus settled down on the other side of me, bringing into my line of vision a filthy sneaker and a grimy ankle tattooed with a snake.
If Hugh had called in Mr. Ota, the Tokyo lawyer who had gotten him out of a nasty jam once before, he obviously thought my problems were serious. When Hugh finally came in unsmiling, I felt sure of it.
“I’m sorry,” I said as he bent to kiss me. Jun Kuroi gaped. Obviously he had no idea about all the foreigners in my life.
“Don’t say anything to them until you’ve had a few minutes in private with Mr. Ota,” Hugh murmured into my hair.
“It was only an accidental death—I mean, it’s terrible, but Jun and I are here voluntarily. You really didn’t need to come.”
“We’ll talk about it later. Anyway, my brother arrived safely and we’re going to have a wonderful time.”
“There is no need to worry,” Mr. Ota chimed in, standing just behind Hugh. He was bearing a massive box of sweets, as if he’d come to make a social call. When he presented it to the constable in charge of us, I understood. He was softening people up, making them beholden.
“Shug, if you want to get her out, you need to give the pigs a payoff. That’s what I did in India,” Angus said.
I didn’t get the chance to ask why he’d been in an Indian police station, because Mr. Ota was gesturing for me to accompany him into a small office that had been vacated for our conversation. Hugh had already narrated for him the story of how I’d met Mr. Sakai while buying the tansu , so all I needed to fill in were the afternoon’s events.
“Don’t you want to talk to Jun?” I asked when he was finished.
“Not at this time,” Mr. Ota told me. “I’m going to meet the police chief now. He doesn’t know it, but our fathers play gate-ball in the same senior citizens’ league.”
The importance of this became clear when, fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the chief’s office with the declaration that I was ready to go home.
“What about Jun?” I didn’t want to leave him behind.
“Go ahead. My father’s driving here, they told me,” Jun said.
Since his car had been impounded, he would definitely need a ride back to Hita. I said a regretful good-bye, betting this was the last time Jun Kuroi ever did a favor for a foreign woman.
The journey home took forever, since we had to stop in the Ebisu neighborhood to drop off Mr. Ota. Hugh went into his office with him for a few minutes, then came back out and got into the driver’s seat. He looked tired, so I offered to drive. He shook his head.
“I’ll drop you and Angus off at the lobby with the luggage, then go to the garage and park. Okay?”
“Sure,” I answered, although I wasn’t relishing the opportunity to be alone with his brother. When I unlocked the apartment door, Angus scrambled ahead, dropping the luggage in front of me.
“I didn’t know my brother was doing so well. This place is fab!”
“The apartment is paid for by Sendai, the Japanese company that employs him,” I explained.
“Ah so,” he said in a parody of Japanese speech. He inclined his head in the direction of a group of wood-block prints by Hiroshige. “Those look expensive. They must have come with the place?”
“Actually, those are mine. I’m a dealer.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have thought he went for that.”
“I’m teaching him,” I said, picking up Angus’s heavy duffel bag. He took the other end, relieving me of half its weight.
“You’re teaching him? Shite!”
The Scottish pronunciation of the profanity didn’t make it any sweeter to my ears. Through
“I rang my bro when you didn’t show up. He told me to take a taxi to his office. When I got there, he said we had to haul you out. Now he’s off to pick up some lawyer. A hell of lot of running around, and all I want to do is crash.” Angus settled down on the other side of me, bringing into my line of vision a filthy sneaker and a grimy ankle tattooed with a snake.
If Hugh had called in Mr. Ota, the Tokyo lawyer who had gotten him out of a nasty jam once before, he obviously thought my problems were serious. When Hugh finally came in unsmiling, I felt sure of it.
“I’m sorry,” I said as he bent to kiss me. Jun Kuroi gaped. Obviously he had no idea about all the foreigners in my life.
“Don’t say anything to them until you’ve had a few minutes in private with Mr. Ota,” Hugh murmured into my hair.
“It was only an accidental death—I mean, it’s terrible, but Jun and I are here voluntarily. You really didn’t need to come.”
“We’ll talk about it later. Anyway, my brother arrived safely and we’re going to have a wonderful time.”
“There is no need to worry,” Mr. Ota chimed in, standing just behind Hugh. He was bearing a massive box of sweets, as if he’d come to make a social call. When he presented it to the constable in charge of us, I understood. He was softening people up, making them beholden.
“Shug, if you want to get her out, you need to give the pigs a payoff. That’s what I did in India,” Angus said.
I didn’t get the chance to ask why he’d been in an Indian police station, because Mr. Ota was gesturing for me to accompany him into a small office that had been vacated for our conversation. Hugh had already narrated for him the story of how I’d met Mr. Sakai while buying the tansu , so all I needed to fill in were the afternoon’s events.
“Don’t you want to talk to Jun?” I asked when he was finished.
“Not at this time,” Mr. Ota told me. “I’m going to meet the police chief now. He doesn’t know it, but our fathers play gate-ball in the same senior citizens’ league.”
The importance of this became clear when, fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the chief’s office with the declaration that I was ready to go home.
“What about Jun?” I didn’t want to leave him behind.
“Go ahead. My father’s driving here, they told me,” Jun said.
Since his car had been impounded, he would definitely need a ride back to Hita. I said a regretful good-bye, betting this was the last time Jun Kuroi ever did a favor for a foreign woman.
The journey home took forever, since we had to stop in the Ebisu neighborhood to drop off Mr. Ota. Hugh went into his office with him for a few minutes, then came back out and got into the driver’s seat. He looked tired, so I offered to drive. He shook his head.
“I’ll drop you and Angus off at the lobby with the luggage, then go to the garage and park. Okay?”
“Sure,” I answered, although I wasn’t relishing the opportunity to be alone with his brother. When I unlocked the apartment door, Angus scrambled ahead, dropping the luggage in front of me.
“I didn’t know my brother was doing so well. This place is fab!”
“The apartment is paid for by Sendai, the Japanese company that employs him,” I explained.
“Ah so,” he said in a parody of Japanese speech. He inclined his head in the direction of a group of wood-block prints by Hiroshige. “Those look expensive. They must have come with the place?”
“Actually, those are mine. I’m a dealer.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have thought he went for that.”
“I’m teaching him,” I said, picking up Angus’s heavy duffel bag. He took the other end, relieving me of half its weight.
“You’re teaching him? Shite!”
The Scottish pronunciation of the profanity didn’t make it any sweeter to my ears. Through
Similar Books
