Right Effort
8-Fold Path
Chiemi contemplated the captain’s last words to her. Should she see him outside the hospital? What would people say? Would the gossip intensify? She would have to do it, as he put it, discreetly. But to what end? He was married; she was married.
Then Fumiko said something in the hushed environment of a hospital corridor that gave her pause.
“It’s a good thing you stopped fussing over the ‘Captain’.”
“Why?”
“I’ve heard things.” Her face turned into the shadows. “He’s been with other women. Lots. Using them and then leaving them. You’ve done well being rid of him.”
She breathed relief. His easy ways, his charming presence, she grinned secretly. She thought of her husband with the too skinny body, the buckteeth, and weak chin. By contrast, he was the plain-looking and dull office clerk, whereas Capt. Inouye was dashing and so attractive. A true hero.
At home, she looked at the note he had handed her surreptitiously. It proposed that they meet in Chinatown for tea and dim sum in about a week. At 11:00 a.m., at a place called Club China House near the Hatsukaichi train station.
She thought it strange that a Chinese restaurant was still in operation during the war. She didn’t think about it too long; instead, she began to fantasize while in her bed.
When the darkness closed in on her, she felt safe and alone. In her half dream, she imagined what it would be like—a cool and quiet room of light green and flowers with an ofuton and tatami. A slight wind wrapped around her naked body. Nearby was the captain, just as naked and glowing in the dark. He approached her, kissed her, and led her down to the ofuton. She felt his hands explore her, diving into intimate places. She groaned and submitted to her revelry.
She opened her eyes and found that her hand had descended to her nether region. It was wet with the manipulation. She smiled as she rolled back her eyes. Ecstasy. A state of joy came over her.
***
It was early April, and the skies were overcast. The train ride west of the city to Hatsukaichi was long but tolerable, the cars rumbled and lurched their way across town and out from there into the countryside.
Omachi train station was clean, noisy but tolerably attractive. A cherry tree grew in the middle of one of the platforms. It was not in blossom even though it was spring. She guessed it didn’t have enough sunlight. Beyond the station, though, the street was wide and open, and the sun shone brightly.
The Club China House Restaurant, a short block away, was decorated with Chinese flourishes. Golden dragons guarded the front door. The primary colours were red and gold, of course, and ribbons and garlands festooned the walls outside and in. Many tables and chairs dotted the dining room. Waiters flew around the large room serving an endless number of customers. They held mysterious but sumptuous platters of food. The smells were heavenly, if not exotic. She had not seen anything like it. The establishment was inexplicably bustling like a grand train station.
Capt. Inouye greeted her and, with a wave of the hand, invited her to sit at one of the tables in the back.
“So nice to see you again,” the captain said. “I’m glad you came.”
“Didn’t think I would,” she said with a worried look.
“Why not? This is an innocent tea between nurse and patient.”
“I’m not a nurse.”
“Friends then.”
Chiemi blushed. She soon learned why the place had survived the war. The owners were Japanese. Endo-san, the patriarch with a large belly and jovial nature enclosed by a tight-fitting and old-fashioned tuxedo, had been born in Tokyo but raised in Shanghai. With the approach of war, his father decided to move the family back to Japan. The family then opened a Chinese restaurant since that was what they knew best.
The captain and Chiemi spent the next hour dining on dumplings of what she thought was shrimp (most likely chopped up bamboo) and conversing. She did wonder where the restaurant got the ingredients, the flour especially, for the har gow. Only for a second or two since she spent most of the time gazing at the captain’s face.
At some point, Inouye reached to touch Chiemi’s hand. “You are quite lovely.”
She blushed again, but his touch was electrifying.
***
At the end of the meal, the two sat in companionable silence in their seats. The restaurant too was quiet. Sunlight shone through the windows and bathed the room in a bright radiance. It seemed an understanding, like the light, had settled between the couple.
The captain looked to a nearby waiter, dressed in a shabby tuxedo. He as it happened was Endo-san’s maître d.’ The suit fabric, stained and wrinkled, hung loose over his slight build but stayed in place. The captain nodded as did the waiter, who motioned for them to follow him.
They walked upstairs to the second floor. Chiemi walked past several rooms. She thought she heard fragmented and hushed conversations behind several. Finally, she came to a stop at the end of the hall. The headwaiter graciously opened the door and invited her inside. The captain followed, slipping a few bills into an outstretched hand.
The room was small and dingy. A torn curtain offered a semblance of privacy over the double dirty window. There was no furniture, but there was an ofuton, thin and ragged. There was an odour that floated about the room, the smell of uncleanliness and age. The wooden floor was well scratched but sturdy.
Chiemi, disappointed, said nothing as the captain approached her. He kissed her; his lips were as soft as she had imagined. She reacted by embracing him, feeling his muscles grasping her in return. He then moved away slightly and wordlessly began undressing her. Her kimono loosened and then dropped to the floor. Her undergarments too. Her hair unravelled and draped over her bare shoulders and breasts. She trembled with the cold and anticipation, her breathing intensified. He led her to the ofuton, and she lay down. It was stained and coloured brown with misuse. She noticed but was quickly distracted. The captain disrobed in front of her, his glorious body coming into full view before her. The scar on his left leg was quite prominent, quite ugly, but somehow it excited her even more. She reached for him, and he collapsed into her arms, his mouth enveloping her mouth; probing tongue exploring her mouth and then her body.
Waves of pleasure came over her. And a smile traced across her face. She began to sweat with the manoeuvring and the friction. She moaned as she never moaned for her husband. Her legs rose in the air almost independently. She wanted to take him into herself and never let him go. And at the peak of emotion, she felt release. Soon thereafter, the captain rolled off her and lay beside her breathing deeply trying to recover.
Chiemi looked to the window and could see nothing through the grime. It didn’t help that the sun had disappeared.
***
She returned to the Club China House Restaurant a few more times with the good Captain, whenever she and he could get away from their responsibilities. She soon found out that Chinese food was not the main source of income for the establishment; Endo-san made his money from renting the rooms upstairs to military officers. The place was in the business of clandestine adultery.
She didn’t care. The temptation was too great. Too much suffering in the world anyway. The walls around Japan strengthened but threatened to collapse. She never knew where he slept at night, military headquarters she assumed, but simply did not know. Again, she didn’t care; she didn’t want to live with him. She glowed from within whenever she returned to the hospital. Her friends noticed but she never said a word.
Eiko especially had become the hospital gossip and was the first to notice Chiemi’s inner change.
“Why are you so happy?”
“I’m always happy,” Chiemi said.
“No, you’re not. Have you been seeing Captain Inouye?”
“What a ridiculous thing to say. How can you say such a thing?” Chiemi’s face contorted with anger. “I don’t even know where he is these days.”
Iku-chan stepped forward. “Do you love him?”
Chiemi barked, “Enough! I am not seeing the captain and I don’t love him!”
The conversation abruptly ended.