Hiroko was a few minutes late the following morning. He could hear her trotting up the staircase to his room in the hotel. “Sorry,” she said, as he held the door open for her to enter. “I had trouble finding a parking place.”
“Do you have the pictures?” asked Masters.
“Yes, and they’re very good.” She handed him an envelope. Masters opened it and spread a number of photos upon the bed. He leaned over to study them. Hiroko, as usual, slipped out of her shoes and stepped on the bed to look from the opposite side.
“These are the best,” she said, pointing at two of them.
“Yes, they’re excellent. You’ve gotten some good shots.”
“I was there all afternoon before I got exactly what you wanted.”
Masters picked up the two photos she had indicated. The first was of a slim American soldier coming out of the Post Exchange. By his side was a Japanese girl carrying a paper bag. The second photo was a blow-up of the soldier’s face. Both pictures were slightly fuzzy, as if the range setting had not been properly adjusted, but they would be clear enough to someone who knew the people well. Masters studied several photos of other soldiers with Japanese girls coming out of the PX, and concluded that the ones chosen by Hiroko were the best.
“I’ll use these,” he said, placing the two pictures in his pocket. He handed the remainder to her. “Destroy them as soon as you can.” He looked at her trim figure dressed in a light, wool dress. “Where are your gloves?”
“In my purse. Want to see them?”
“No, I’ll take your word for it. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.”
They walked out of the hotel and got into Kimiko’s Datsun, then she drove him to a nearby car rental agency. In half-an-hour he came out in a small Nissan. Hiroko was waiting a block away, and led him through the city to the highway traversing the island to the west coast. They drove steadily in separate cars for a couple of hours, then slowed down and turned off the road into a woods. Hiroko took out a hamper of food and prepared a picnic among the trees.
“Are you going to stay in Japan afterwards?” she asked him.
Masters stopped chewing the chicken sandwich. “If I’m still alive, and can get a job.” He knew that he was just making conversation.
“What do you want to work for? Mother has plenty of money.”
“May have to send a daughter of mine to school to learn how to speak respectfully to her father,” he said, chuckling.
“No kidding, Keith. We know you didn’t come after mother for her money. She’s got enough for both of you. Why worry about it?”
“Just a strange American custom. Anyhow, I’d like to work again. It doesn’t have to be much, just work that is interesting.”
“What can you do?”
“Not a helluva lot. I opened an appliance shop right after the war, World War Two, that is. Went broke so fast that I think it was a record in the city. Then I peddled vacuum cleaners, door to door. Got the surprise of my life when I made more than I spent. Then Uncle Sam tapped my shoulder and told me to straighten up the Korean mess. Afterwards, I sold life insurance. Know anybody who needs a guy with all these high -class talents?”
“There’s a lot of things you could do here.”
“Name one.”
“I don’t know offhand, but I bet I could find a few as soon as I put my mind to it.” Masters grinned, he was absolutely sure she could. Hiroko could do anything she wanted to, and do it well. “Want me to put my mind to it?” she asked, seriously.
“Yes, you do that, Hiroko, you do that. Come on, let’s get going.”
They continued driving, stopping only for gas, and at mid-afternoon Masters took over the lead. He could smell the sea as he entered Takada, a few miles from a small fishing village on the coast called Naoetsu. He slowed down at a central parking area, signaled for her to stop there, then drove on a block and waited. She parked Kimiko’s car, locked it, and joined him quickly.
Masters made a U-turn and started back. “Put on your gloves right away,” he said.
She flushed. “Sorry,” and reached into her purse to take out soft driving gloves.
He handed her a handkerchief. “Here, wipe the door handle, inside and outside. I’ve told you a dozen times to listen to orders.”
“Sorry, Keith. I’ll pay more attention.”
“You’d better, or you’ll foul everything up.”
It was evening by the time they returned to Tokyo. Masters stopped the small Nissan and turned to her. “Where are you staying?”
“I have a room in a motel about ten miles from Yokohama.”
“You’ll have to take a taxi there. I don’t want to be seen with you.”
“I understand.”
“Where are the duplicate keys to the Toyo?”
“Here.” She opened her handbag and dangled them before his eyes.
“Now don’t forget, you must not touch those keys or the car without wearing gloves. Not with one little pinky, understand?”
She nodded, still smarting from the incident at Takada.
He held out his hand and a tight smile crossed his face. “You’ll do well, Hiroko, I know you will. I couldn’t have gotten to first base without you.”
She took his hand but wasn’t able to smile back at him. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips. “Can I see you again, tomorrow morning?”
He shook his head. “No. If anything goes wrong, you just follow my instructions and sit tight.”
“It won’t go wrong, Keith,” she said, with a quaver in her voice. Then she pushed open the door and jumped out. He could see she was close to tears.
He drove the Nissan to the spot he had selected a few days before, parked it on the street and left it unlocked. “Be good, you little bastard,” he murmured, with affection.
Nearby was the four-door Toyo. He got in, drove to Kimiko’s house, and again parked around the corner. It was almost 10 pm.; he had returned later than planned.
Kimiko was obviously worried, but her relief at his appearance was even more evident. “Have you eaten, my dear?” she asked.
“No. Would it be too much trouble to scrape something up?”
Immediately she was in the kitchen rattling pots and pans. He followed her inside and leaned against the doorway. “You’ve got a good looking backside,” he remarked, studying it with satisfaction.
She tried to hide the smile, but finally gave up. “I think yours is pretty good looking, too,” she replied, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on her cooking.
“Men don’t have good looking tails. Only girls do. You especially.”
“That’s what you men think. I say that yours is beautiful.”
“Why don’t we introduce them to each other?”
“Before or after you eat?”
“The hell with food.”
She turned, and he was struck once more by the amount of love he could see in her eyes. She groped behind her and turned off the stove. The weariness of the long drive fell from his shoulders as he stepped closer to her. “I’ve got something special to tell you tonight, Kimiko.”
“Yes?” she whispered, never taking her eyes from his.
“I love you more than I have ever loved before, and more than I ever thought I could love. And starting tonight, I promise that we’ll never be apart, never, so long as we live.”
She flung her arms around his neck and he picked her up, marveling again at how light she was in his arms and yet so strong and full underneath. He carried her to their bedroom and laid her gently on the mat, kneeling beside her to look long and searchingly at her, as if to etch her loveliness into every fiber of his being and to give every cell of awareness one more opportunity to record how very dear she was.
Then he stood up and began to remove his clothes.