“You have the right clothes for a foreman, but you’ll need new suits to be the manager of Seven.”
“Ehh? I can’t be manager of Seven!” Mozasu replied, startled. “That’s Okada-san’s job.”
“He’s gone.”
“What? Why? He was looking forward to being manager.”
“Stealing.”
“What? I don’t believe it.”
“Honto desu,” Goro said, nodding. “I caught him. I had suspected it, and it was confirmed.”
“That’s terrible.” Mozasu couldn’t fathom anyone stealing from Goro. It would be like stealing from your father. “Why did he do that?”
“Gambling. He owed some goons money. He said he was going to pay me back, but the losses got bigger. You know. Anyway, his mistress came by this morning to apologize for him. She’s pregnant. He finally gets her pregnant and then he loses his job. Moron.”
“Oh, shit.” Mozasu recalled all the times Okada had spoken of wanting a son. Even a daughter would do, he’d said. Okada was crazy about kids and pachinko. Even with all his experience, no pachinko parlor in Osaka would hire him if Goro had gotten rid of him for stealing. No one stole from Goro. “Did he say he was sorry?”
“Of course. Cried like a child. I told him to get out of Osaka. I don’t want to see his face anymore.”
“Soo nee,” Mozasu said, feeling bad for Okada, who had always been nice to him. He had a Korean mother and a Japanese father, but he always said he felt like a full Korean because he was such a passionate man. “Is his wife okay?” Mozasu knew Goro got along with both women.
“Yeah. His wife and mistress are fine,” Goro replied. “But I told the mistress that he shouldn’t show up around here. I wouldn’t be so nice next time.”
Mozasu nodded.
“Let’s go to Totoyama-san’s. I’m tired of feeling sad. Seeing Totoyama’s girls will cheer me up,” Goro said.
Mozasu followed his boss to the car. He knew enough not to ask about his new salary; Goro didn’t like to talk about money, strangely enough. The manager’s salary would be better than that of a foreman. Mozasu had been saving carefully for his mother’s confection shop, and they were pretty close to having enough to buy a small store near the train station. With Uncle Yoseb’s health worsening, Aunt Kyunghee couldn’t make candy to sell when she was home. With only his mother and grandmother working in the stall and with Noa in his third year at Waseda in Tokyo, any extra money would be good for the family, he figured. Each Saturday evening, Mozasu felt proud handing his mother his fat pay envelope; she’d tried to increase his allowance, but he had refused except for his bus fare. He didn’t need much, since he ate his meals at the employee cafeteria and Goro bought him his work clothes. Mozasu worked seven days a week and slept at home; if it was very late, he slept in one of the spare employee dorm rooms at the parlors.
The shop door shut behind them after they exited.
“Boss, I don’t know. Do you think the guys will listen to me? Like the way they do Okada?” Mozasu asked. It wasn’t that Mozasu wasn’t ambitious; it was that he enjoyed being the morning or evening foreman at the shops; he was very good at it. Being a manager was more serious; everyone looked up to the manager. He would be in charge whenever Goro wasn’t there. Okada was almost thirty-five and tall like a baseball player.
“I’m flattered and grateful, but you know, I think some of the other managers might—”
“Shut up, kid. I know what I’m doing. You’re smarter than the other managers, and you know how to solve problems by yourself. This is the most important shop. If I’m running around checking the others, I need you to be sharp.”
“But Seven is going to need almost fifty employees. How am I supposed to find fifty men?”
“Actually, you’re going to need at least sixty men and twenty pretty girls for the prize counters.”
“Really?” Mozasu was always game for Goro’s outlandish plans, but this seemed a bit much, even for him. “How will I find—”
“You will. You always do. And you can hire any kind of girl you want for the prize counters—Okinawans, burakumin, Koreans, Japanese, I don’t care. They just have to be cute and pretty, but not so slutty they’ll scare the men. The girls are always important. Ha.”
“I didn’t realize that the dorm could accommodate so many—”
“You worry a lot. That’s why you’ll be perfect.” Goro smiled widely.
Mozasu thought about that and had to agree. No one worried about the shops nearly as much as he did.