Tokio Whip (42 page)

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Really, what was it? He has so many fingers in so many pies.

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I'm not sure, it may have been two jobs in one, something about script doctoring, and helping someone with an architecture book. Something like that, in that direction. But it paid well, and will allow him some leeway here.

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Good, super.

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So, Roberta seemed alright with his going, remember? I mean she seemed to maintain, but who could tell? After all that time, from when she first came here, neither of them knowing what was up, what would happen, other than that it seemed most likely that they were finished, what with Lang completely out of touch for such a long time, and Roberta just lingering, so slow then, remember?

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S-l-o-w is hardly the word for it.
Nosferatu.

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And neither of us able to do a thing for the poor woman. And then the break with van Zandt. Doom city, Robie. Oops, I forgot, we can't call her that anymore, can we?

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Where did that ever come from, anyway?

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Her Cary Grant phase, she wanted to be a cat burglar.

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?

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Don't let it bother you. Back to –

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Doom city.

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And then he was here. Remember when Lang arrived; there's a letter one day, and him on the doorstep the next?

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“Hello stranger, how long has it been?”

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And then the party, and then him moving out, Kichijoji, and then him gradually beginning to actually like being here, and their going back and forth –

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Back and forthing.

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To and froing.

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Hither and thithering.

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Hither and yoning.

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East and westing.

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High and lowing.

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Yamanate-o-ing.

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Ok, ok. So, it seemed they were doing well, and then he had to leave. But she seemed ok. In the air perhaps, but different from when she knew absolutely nothing about where she or she and he were at or what would become of them.

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Cut already!

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Stop?

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No, to the chase!

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Oh. Sure. So, while he was gone, it seems they spoke a lot, he called her, regularly. He even had flowers delivered to her on her birthday – from Europe! Or at least the order was placed in Europe. And then, of all things, she visited him, in Vienna.

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Like Joan in
Letter
, “revisiting the scenes of our youth.”

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Yes, exactly! But he didn't go away saying he'd be back in two weeks, and she pregnant. By the way – just give me this little digression – have you read that take on Max, in, where's it from? Oh, I can't remember. But it's about the “Collected Letters from an Unknown Woman.” I'll dig it out for you later. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, so there they are in Vienna. She even went hiking with him. And of course lots of movies. She never minded that, of course, But she can also live with just two or three a month. If I were such a film freak, I guess that's what I'd call love: Lang coming to Tokyo and going without. Ah, what a sacrifice! What a man!

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Are you serious?

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No, silly. Well, maybe a little. I mean he has given it up you know, has had to, given Tokyo's lack of any real film culture. Anyway, apparently, this time round, Roberta liked Vienna, reconciled herself with their past there. Obviously, she doesn't ever want to live there again, but she has made peace with the place. I wonder if they're country bumpkins too.

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Yes, some of them. The rest, worse: bourgeois.

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Ok, ok. So, where was I? Yes, of course: she liked Vienna alright – and then they came back! Just a few days ago.

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And, what now?

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Well, get this; like I said, these jobs he had made him some extra money; enough to take care of his place in Kichijoji, and to help her out too. They'll maintain their separate places –

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There really is no better way to live together, you know.

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I wouldn't know.

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Arlene, do we really want to be on TV?

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I don't know. Don't you?

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Only if I can get laid.

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Marianne!

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Ok, ok. Speaking of which – any news?

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News, what kind of news?

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Oh, tinker, tailor, girls in sailor suits. The rice lady, Hiromi, Hiroko.

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Oh, that kind of news. Not really, I'm working on it. I'm thinking.

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Thinking about it is working on it? What do you do, send out thought waves? How can sitting at home thinking about the direction of your love and sex life be working on it? Do you actually send a vibe out to Hiroko and she feels the warm moist coming on, down there, and responds with a phonecall?

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Marianne!

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What?

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Well.

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Well what?

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Well, I'm not telepathic. Are you?

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Yes.

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Ok. No, that is not what happens, obviously, and yes thinking about it is doing something about it. Getting laid, as you put it, for once speaking like my countrymen, and women, may be a part of it, but so are a lot of other things. Like knowing what one wants, and accepting it, and preparing oneself.

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You're showing your midwestern roots again, Arlene.

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So?

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Ok. So, you're taking your time. Seriously, it is good, and I admire it.

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Seriously?

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Yes, yes. But Hiroko is cute …

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I know, I know.

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And contrary to received opinion, there aren't many more like her where she comes from.

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Do you see that too?

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You mean you do too? See what?

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Oh, that for all the silliness and shrillness and the following after Hiromi all the time and all the allness of it all, all that stuff that they buy and talk about … that behind it all, or before it all, or above it all –

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Ok, ok, steady your compass.

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Ok, well, for all of it, or despite all – the girl's got something.

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Well said. “The girl‘s got something.” Care to be specific?

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Oh, she has potential, she has a brain and eyes that apparently she wants to learn how to use; maybe she's a late bloomer, but she seems serious about it. You know how with siblings the younger seems to follow the older around a lot, and then suddenly one day the younger just shoots up and it's like you're looking at a new person where before you'd only seen an obnoxious copycat, that's what it seems like.

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Some people call it growing up.

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Well, that's not entirely right. After all, the two of them are grown up in terms of having the minimum that this society is ever going to require of them. But I'm speaking of something more, something more than just “growing up” or even “maturing” in a mundane sense. Something more …

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Maybe that is it: the something she has is something more.

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Maybe.

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Let's hope so. Oh, Arlene, I agree entirely. They're a curious pair. You know, my first impulse would be to split them up, tell Hiroko, “Hey, come over to our side, you've got a lot more going for you than your silly pal,” but –

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But, I agree. That would be an entirely false move, wrong.

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Hiromi's her own pal, is that it?

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More or less.

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She'll grow up – and more?

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But she has. She's alright.

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Alright?

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Alright by me. Why expect so much of people? We do what we can do.

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You're not talking just about Hiromi? Are you?

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Hiromi. Just?

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Not justice, but only.

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No, no, I'm not. Leave people alone. And no, I wouldn't dare to say to, say, Hiroko, “come over to our side.” That too is silly.

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Yes, I suppose you're right.

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She'll come of her own accord. If she wants to. Maybe she won't.

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Stay cute.

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And why the hell not? It gets most people through.

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But the loss!

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Loss of what?

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Loss of –

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Marianne: we're born dumb, we're born cute.

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Yes?

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Do we need to change?

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But I thought –

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Thought what? Something Lang or VZ said once? That I or Roberta may have? Those things don't matter. You know to leave well enough alone.

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Yes, yes, you're right. So what comes next?

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Comes?

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Yes, you for instance.

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Comes. I may.

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Or may not.

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Isn't it up to me?

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The coming? I hope it's with a partner.

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Me too! And it will be.

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Oh, the summerflies, the winter skies …

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Ok, so I'm not as dynamic as you – but still you'd find no better co-host.

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Oh, Arlene, I do love you.

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Likewise, Baby. Butterflies and all. Of course, I'm shy, and a midwesterner. Sorry, I kinda like “American coffee,” but I have come to prefer green tea.

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And girls with swimmers legs.

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Amateurs.

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Lovers. That's what the word means.

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If you like. I do.

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So, Hiromi and Hiroko forever.

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Japan.

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City and country.

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Why not.

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Alright. Bluebells.

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And you?

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Me?

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Bluebells? What's to come for you, Marianne?

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Oh, I'm doing alright. Like all of us, I tend to exaggerate.

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Do you now?

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Of course. I come – now and then. I meet a boy, a man. We play.

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Play?

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It's fair.

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For both?

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Yes, yes.

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I envy you.

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No, I envy you.

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Why?

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Insects, flowers, your style, tastes ...

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Tastes, style? Sort of maybe. Yes, I suppose. Maybe I have a kind of openness.

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It's a gift, really it is.

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I'm not always so sure, but.

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I don't have it.

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But you obviously do now. Midwest or no, look at you. School marm type comes to Japan, seeks nothing in particular, well maybe some new experience to look back on in old age, falls into a bunch of bohemian types, does not get laid but wonders what it's all about and then finds out she's –

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She's what? She's got a lack of imagination, is a bit too academic, and is not really attracted to men. What would my parents say?

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Well, what would they?

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Oh, they'd probably come around after a while, thrashing it all out on a few talk shows.

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Vive l'Amerique!

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Oh, comeon now.

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And would you appear? Could I come with you?

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Marianne, the only talk show I would be on would be ours, and it would have to originate in Japan.

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“Originate” – so you think we'd be distributed internationally?

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Yes, of course, and because I always want to be sure of our audience.

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And sure of our friends. I don't think the film crew would appreciate our being on TV.

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Not unless they were regular guests. But no, we'd better drop this idea right now.

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What idea? You don't think I really …?

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I guess not. Maybe we could make a film about ourselves as talk show hosts.

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No, maybe we can drop it altogether – I do not want to be forever hostessing.

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Hadn't thought of that. So, you think I should sort of take Hiroko under my wing, so to speak?

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Sure, why not? Give it a try. And no, it does not have to blossom into a sex thing. Not necessarily. Two wings, by the way. God, those crows can be loud here. Sure, why not? Just start being her friend, see how she responds. Take it from there. Spend time, talk. I'm sure she could teach you a thing or two too.

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I'm sure she could too. What?

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Oh, well, she is from
shitamachi
, you know. And her family sounds delightful. That sort of setting can be quite comforting – for a while.