Wrong. It was some of the hardest work of my life. A single room could take two hours or more to do, on top of all the other daily cleaning. It was a full six-hour shift of hard work that sometimes went late. I got used to stumbling into the house near dawn, my eyes red and blurred from the odors of the chemicals I had to use to clean the tile floors.
Still, it was a paycheck, and Harry was happy with my work. Of all the odd jobs I'd done in my time since graduating high school and trying to make it as a musician, it was in the upper half of them. I hadn't been sexually harassed and I wasn't working like a slave for minimum wage. I was even able to have time to practice my guitar playing.
I had just finished my training for being a guide when a new exhibit came in. Harry, who up until then had been a very laid back, hands-off type of boss, suddenly made himself much more noticeable around the museum. I didn't know why until he called everyone into the main exhibit room on a Monday morning. I had done an audition the day before, but had finished up in time to get some decent sleep, so I wasn't quite wiping the last of the night crusties out of my eyes when he got up on top of a box to look over the group.
He cleared his voice and quieted down the group. "Hi everyone, I'm glad you could make it in, even those of you on the night shift. A few questions have been cropping up, namely why I've been running around the museum so much instead of just sitting behind my desk. Sorry about that, I didn't want to irritate anyone or to freak you all out, but we've had some amazing news come in the last week, and I had to make sure things were ready.
"As most of you know, our new seasonal exhibit is on the samurai. While the JANM has its own collection of weapons, armor, documents and other artifacts, we always try to borrow more exclusive items from some of our partner museums whenever we can. A week ago last Friday, I got a call from the Japanese consulate in Los Angeles. They've agreed, as part of the Prime Minister's program of encouraging interest in Japan's cultural heritage, to lend us two dozen of the Kokuho."
The museum curators, who were all fluent in Japanese, gasped, one of them covering her mouth in total shock. A lot of the rest of the staff looked surprised as well, so I felt like a total idiot raising my hand. Harry caught sight of my hand and pointed towards me. "Yes, Jordan? Question in the back?"
"Uh, Harry, sorry I don't know, but what's a Kokuho?"
There were a few smirks from some of the staff, but Harry's smile was more genuine. "Thanks for asking Jordan, since I know there are a few others out there who didn't know but didn't have the guts to ask. The Kokuho are national treasures of Japan, considered priceless by the government. They are by Japanese law not allowed to be sold or exported from Japan in any way, shape, or form. There are thousands in total, ranging from actual castles to scrolls and pieces of ancient literature, but for this exhibition, the most noted will be seven katana, along with three full sets of authentic samurai armor. It’s the largest collection of these artifacts to be allowed into the United States in three decades. The last time was at the Smithsonian in Washington, just to let you get a grasp on what we're talking about."
Harry continued on, describing some of the security features and procedures being put in place for the arrival of the artifacts. Most of it didn't involve me, except I noted there was a special cleaning procedure the janitorial staff would have to use if we were to clean the exhibit room. Security had the biggest role, with two armed officers to be on duty at all times while the exhibit was in place. Thankfully, the Japanese government was paying some of the cost for the security.
After the speech, I got on a JANM computer, checking on the total impact of what Harry had told me. The numbers I got shocked me. The Kokuho were literally priceless, a class of artifacts so rare and expensive that no insurance company in the world, even Lloyd's of London, were willing to put out a policy on them.
Especially valuable were the katana, the Japanese swords that had gained such a reputation that they'd transcended into the realm of almost the religious, even among non-Japanese.
The centerpiece of the Kokuho exhibit was the twin so-called "spirit blades," one by the legendary swordsmith Masamune, the other by what some considered his spiritual opposite, Muramasa. Both, in addition to being Kokuho, were registered as Juyobunkazai, or important relics to Japan's cultural heritage.
I shut down the computer and left the office, finding Harry overseeing the installation of the display cases in the special exhibit room. "Quite an accomplishment," I said, watching as the first case was carefully jockeyed into place. The case looked heavier than most of the ones the museum used, and I assumed that it was specially made to stronger standards. "You happy about this?"
"Yes and no," he said, grinning sheepishly. "Remember when I interviewed you and told you about the otaku?"