Tokio Whip (43 page)

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Oh yes, see a bit of country style living in the big capital.

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I really do not want to see you in quilts.

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Isn't quilting some sort of thing here, with the over-thirties?

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I think you're right.
Little House on the Prairie
.

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Little thatched roof on the Tokkaido.

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Is she related to the Anne of the
Green Gables
?

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I don't really know. But in Japan I suppose she is.

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Why
do
they wear those sailor uniforms?

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Or why aren't there more eye operations? I've always thought it had to do with the Meiji reforms, you know, the Germans taught them about the military, the English about schools, that stuff.

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Was it the English? Do the English wear sailor suits?

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I have no idea.

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I think those graduation dresses are cute.

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Kind of butch. But aren't they rather heavy? I can't imagine school kids wearing those everyday.

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No, I suppose not. I've got it! We switch the boys and girls uniforms!

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Cross-dressing?

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Yes! These girls can be pretty dykey when they want to, you know. God, they'd look so good, so severe. Cut the uniforms just right, really make them femmy. And the boys – all those little sailors. We get rid of the skirts, keep the tops, with adjustments …

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We get rid of the skirts. You still have them in their underwear.

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What's wrong with that? No, you're right. What kind of pants? Let's see. Why not the same as the girls, their old pants, waists hitched up high. Would that match the tops? Aren't there school uniform shops?

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I know one in Waseda.

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Maybe we can go there and try out different combinations. Get some boys and girls to help us. Then they'd really think we foreigners are nuts. Can you imagine?

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Wasn't there a film recently –

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Yes! Where all the boy parts were played by girls, and most people couldn't see the difference. Yes, it was alright.

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And the boys grow their hair longer, and the girls shorter, like in manga.

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Hiroko.

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Hiroko?

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No not our Hiroko, Hiroko Yakushimaru.

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Whatever happened to her, by the way?

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I think she got married. Maybe to some pop star, and then she sort of faded away. Like most idols. She was near the heights for a while, but just couldn't sustain it.

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So what about her?

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Did you ever see her first film? Some gangster thing, and she was in high-school. Maybe her father was a yakuza or something, but anyway, she joined in the gang, in the mayhem.

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That's another example – that yakuza series where the gang is ruled by the old
oyabun
's wife.

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Yes, with that great actress, you know, the sister of Tora-san's sister. Anyway, the poster for the Hiroko Yakushimaru movie was of her in sailor suit, holding up a machine gun, and a trickle of blood flowing down one round baby cheek. Very sexy. I have a copy somewhere around here, I'll dig it out for you later.

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This is better than talk TV. High-school will never be the same again. And it's so appropriate too, don't you think? This country has to wake up to its sexual selves, it's been in denial for too long.

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?

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Well, maybe not.

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Time to have fun! Puberty's sure going to be even a lot more fun.

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Puberty, fun?

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Oh yes. I had a great time.

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Mine was awful, I had no idea what was happening to me, no control.

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Yes, I've heard that can happen. It doesn't have to, though. But, we're going to redress the nation! Now what about the salary-men and office ladies?

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Ugh, what a challenge. No cross-dressing there.

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Right, let's deal with them later. I do like sushi chef's uniforms.

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Me too, they stay the same.

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I know: elevator girls.

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Yuck, those awful hats, Matsuya, Takashimaya, each department store trying to out-awful the next. The gloves, the gestures.

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I see them in lingerie.

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I'd like to, too, but … let's see … why uniforms at all? Why not just dress as they like, except for something that identifies their job – like a belt, or a scarf, or even a hat? But something really striking, let them maintain a shred of self-respect.

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You have a gift, Arlene.

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I may have a calling. Who's next?

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Uhm … taxi-drivers!

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Oh, those blue suits. Doesn't that material prevent the circulation, or kill brain cells, or something?

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It must, they never know where they're going. How they qualify for their jobs, I'll never understand.

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I think it's because they keep the city clean, they've been mistakenly classified, you know, those long feather dusters they're always wiping their cars with.

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And gloves again!

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And doilies!

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That country groveling again, too.

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So what do we do with them?

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You mean after they come out of the getting-to-know-the-city class? Well, hell, again, why uniforms at all? The cab itself is uniform enough, and that little ID that's always on the dash board.

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But why uniforms at all?

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What do you mean?

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Only that maybe there is a reason for all those uniforms after all.

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Think so?

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Sure, after all, the whole country agrees on them, no one complains about it. Have you ever stepped into an elevator and seen an elevator girl complain about her uniform, her hat and gloves, her very role?

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No, but then I've never seen an elevator girl with anything that resembles a human emotion.

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But maybe that's it?

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What?

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Well, that it is just a role, and the uniform, no matter how awful, is your costume for that day's performance. Let's say you're an elevator girl for two or three years, or selling towels or doilies in Mitsukoshi, well, those two or three years are how long your show runs. You have the same costume and you say the same lines, that's a play. And you know as well as I that those same elevator girls without human emotions as you say, or those salesladies or office ladies or salary-men all have lives outside the … well, when they come off stage.

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Hmm … Maybe. Then my calling is all in vain?

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No, not necessarily.

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Why not?

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Well, the elevator girls and taxi-drivers and all the others are all adults. They've chosen their roles. High-schoolers have not, and they're at an age where their roles, sexual and otherwise, haven't yet jelled –

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You mean solidifed, concretized.

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Right. So, anyway, they're at an age where they're still open to, well, open to every possibility. Society demands them in uniform. We just change uniform, change the look; the kids'll take care of the rest.

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Sounds good.

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Sounds promising.

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Got a sketchbook?

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Yes.

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Boy or girl first?

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Boy-girl, girl-boy.

***

Oh, city, oh you – you have become home – for now – perhaps for me and Lang – could he ever accept – but in the meantime – the balance of it, one roof – ah, what you've given me – this unexpected unsuspected rediscovery – for the moment then – this city oh city you!

***

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And from Akihabara you get to Kanda, and from Kanda –

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Oh, from Kanda you can get to Tokyo, sure, but from anywhere you can also get to anywhere else, that's the beauty of it –

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Part of it – of the beauty.

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And that the Yamanote doesn't contain the city; it's just a convenience to stay inside or outside the loop –

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The lasso –

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The great wheel –

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Sounds like a game show –

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It is!

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After all, more of the city is outside than in.

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Ok, so what's on the other side of Ueno station?

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Asakusa, for one.

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Four or five wards.

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Two more rivers, one frontier after another.

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That's it, isn't it? Frontiers on either side –

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No, frontiers all over, what is it to walk even here in Ueno but adventure –

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The unknown!

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No man's land!

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Everyone's!

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Almost literally – Saigo as the Statue of Liberty welcoming the huddled masses.

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Pretty huddled for sure.

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Pretty unpublicized.

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Our drunk, our homeless, our own accursed.

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Driven from Ueno –

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Driven from Harajuku –

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Driven from Shinjuku –

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And back to Ueno –

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And driven again.

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Something's gotta give.

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Here.

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Here.

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Look there – do you see what I see?

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Uhm –

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Too late. Gone.

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Kazuko, are you alright? Shall we take a rest?

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No, no, I'm fine. I was just thinking about home, about Kyoto, about – no, let's keep walking.

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Sure?

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Yes.

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Straight on?

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Is that possible?

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Or shall we take a detour, see the river, reminisce?

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Which river? Reminisce about what?

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I don't know, I thought that's what rivers are for.

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Amongst other things.

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And then what, head back, back to Chuo Dori, on to Akihabara and past –

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Kanda –

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Full circle.

***

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If I stay?

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Go then.

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And if I go?

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I stay, regardless.

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And if I go?

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You'll return.

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And if I stay.

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I'll be here, Lang.

***

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Hey, doesn't anybody want to dance? Why's this party so dead? Hey, does anybody hear me?

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Hiromi, it's 3AM, comeon. Let's go home.

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So early? I wanna dance som'more.

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If we go home, I promise I'll fuck your brains out.

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You did that this afternoon.

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And this morning. I didn't hear you complaining. In fact I heard you asking for more. I also heard –

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That was then, this is now. And besides, I dance even better than I fuck.

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True.

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?

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…

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I mean I like dancing even better than fucking.

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Oh?

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Well, proper things at their proper places.

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Proper?

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Oh, you know what I mean.

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Ok, one more, and then we go home.

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Oh, you sweetie.

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But what if I'm too tired when we get home? What if you exhaust me on the dance floor?

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Don't worry about that. Hey, where did everybody go?

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You mean working people who have to get up early in the morning?

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Ok, ok. I'm ready to go.

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But I gotta finish this last beer.

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I thought you wanted to fuck?

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I also want to finish this beer I just paid for.

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You're so mercenary.

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And cute – you told me so.

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Did I say that?

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Yes, you did. Gimme a kiss.

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Not here, not in public.

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What? You talk – you shout out loud in a disco about fucking, and then you can't even kiss me?

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They're two different things.

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Are they?

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Yes.