“Much easier than school. The boss is really great—a Japanese guy, but he went to college and business school in California.”
“California? Your mother would’ve liked that,” Mozasu said quietly. The boy resembled her so much, especially around the brow and nose.
“Where’s Etsuko?” Solomon stared at the blue background of the news screen. The newscasters were talking about a flood in Bangkok. “Is it Hana? She okay?”
Mozasu sighed. “Etsuko will fill you in. Give her a call.”
Solomon wanted to know more, but his father didn’t know about what had happened between the two of them. Mozasu never liked to talk about Hana, because she upset Etsuko so much.
“Your grandmother and great-aunt like Phoebe. They want you to get married.”
“Yes, I heard that. Five minutes ago.”
Mozasu faced his son. “Does Phoebe want to live in Japan?”
“Not sure. She hates that she doesn’t know Japanese.”
“She can learn.”
Solomon looked doubtful. “She wants to work. It’s not easy to get your career going straight out of college in Japan. And she doesn’t have the language skills. Staying home is not good for Phoebe.”
Mozasu nodded. Solomon’s mother had been the same way.
“You okay with money?”
“Yes, Dad,” he replied, almost amused by his father’s concern, “I have a good job now. Hey, Dad, do you know an older lady named Sonoko Matsuda? She owns an old textile factory in Yokohama. Not far from Goro-san’s place.”
“No.” Mozasu shook his head. “Why?”
“Kazu, my boss, is trying to finalize this real estate transaction, and the lady, Matsuda-san, won’t sell her property. It’s holding up the deal. I thought maybe you might know someone. You know a lot of people in Yokohama, I mean.”
“I don’t know her, but sure, I can find out. That’s not hard,” he said. “Your boss wants the lady to sell?”
“Yeah. Her lot is the last important piece for the golf course development.”
“Huh, okay. That sort of thing does happen. I’ll ask Goro-san or Haruki. One of them will know. Goro just sold his last pachinko parlor. Now he’s only doing demolition, construction, and real estate. He wants me to go in with him, but I’m too busy. It’s too late for me to start something new. I don’t understand his business as well as pachinko.”
“Why don’t you sell the shops, too, Dad? Retire maybe. You’re set, right? Pachinko is a lot of work.”
“What? Quit the business? Pachinko put food on the table and sent you to school. I’m too young to retire!”
He shrugged.
“And what would happen if I sell my stores? They might fire my workers. And where would my older workers go? And we give work to the people who make the machines. Pachinko’s a bigger business in Japan than car manufacturing.”
Mozasu stopped talking and raised the volume on the news. The newscasters were now talking about the value of the yen.
Solomon nodded and stared at the screen, trying to pay attention to the currency news. His father didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by what he did for a living.
Mozasu caught a glimpse of his son’s darkened expression.
“I’ll call Goro tonight and ask about the lady. Your boss wants her to sell, right?”
“That would be great. Thanks, Dad.”
On Monday afternoon, Mozasu called Solomon at the office. He had spoken to Goro-san. The old lady was Korean—an old-school Chongryon type whose children had returned to Pyongyang and died there; Matsuda was her tsumei. She didn’t want to sell the property to the Japanese. Goro-san thought the old lady was being stubborn; he said he could buy the property from the lady, because she said he’d sell it to her. Then he’d sell it to Kazu’s client for the same price.
After Solomon got off the phone, he rushed to Kazu’s office to tell him the good news.
Kazu listened carefully, then folded his hands together and smiled.
“Excellent work, Jedi. I can always spot a winner.”
19
Tokyo, 1989
Even in her condition, Hana could not keep from flirting.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “I look ugly. I wanted to be beautiful when you saw me again.”
“I wanted to see you,” Solomon replied. “And you are lovely, Hana. That will never change.” He smiled, suppressing his shock at her altered appearance. Etsuko had warned him, but still, it was difficult to recognize her original features beneath the reddish scabs and sparse hair. The skeleton of her body made a distinct impression through the thin blue hospital sheet.
“Mama said you brought the girlfriend-o all the way to Tokyo,” Hana said. Only her voice had not changed. It was difficult to know if she was teasing or not. “And I thought you were coming back to me. You will marry her, nee? Of course, I will try to forgive you because I know you loved me first.”
With the curtain drawn, the ceiling lamp off, and only the light coming from the low-wattage electric bulb by her bedside, the room at the clinic was dark like night even though it was sunny outside.