“My grandfather was killed by the Americans during the war. My father was not born yet. My grandmother was pregnant with my father during the war. So my father blames the Americans for his growing up without a father. He would be so mad if he knew I was having dinner with you.”
Cain sighed. “The war was a long time ago, but I know some people who have a hard time letting go of the past.”
“You would certainly be the first American I introduced to my parents.”
“Would you ever do that?”
Umiko turned her glance elsewhere. “I’m the only child. It’s my duty to take care of my parents. My father would never approve. My mother? Maybe. But it would break her heart if I married an American. She’d be afraid I’d move away from Japan.”
“Well, it’s just our first date. So, no reason for anyone to get their heart broken. I’m just glad you came out with me tonight. I always enjoy spending time with you.”
Umiko smiled. “Me, too.” Cain saw her glance at the gold band he still wore on his ring finger. “You wear a wedding ring, but Tanaka-san told me you are not married.”
“You were asking about me?” Cain’s stomach fluttered for a second.
“Maybe,” she replied, concealing her true feelings.
“I’m not married, Umi. Not anymore.” Cain changed the subject. “Look right there. That’s the navy base. There’s the sailboat my friend and I rented a while back. It’s bobbing up against the dock.”
The sailboat was illuminated beyond the navy’s chain-link fence. “It looks very small,” Umiko said. “I’d be scared to take that into Tokyo Bay.”
“Ah, it was just fine for the chief and me.” He pointed to a small island in the distance. “We sailed right past that island with all the monkeys.”
Umiko laughed and laughed until her eyes watered. “No monkeys live there.”
“What? My friend told me it was called Monkey Island.”
Umiko continued laughing. “There are no monkeys there. Its nickname is Monkey Island, but its real name is Sarushima.”
Cain changed the subject again. “Since you are my unofficial Japanese cultural expert,” he joked, “what can you tell me about kyabakura?”
“Kyabakura?” Umiko repeated. “Hostess bar?”
“Yeah.”
“Did Tanaka-san take you to one?”
“Maybe.”
“Did you like it?”
“It was okay. Had a drink, a cigar, sang a little karaoke, and mingled with the locals.”
“They are very popular with Japanese men. Girlfriends and wives accept the fact that their men will most likely go to kyabakura.”
“Wives don’t care?” Cain asked.
“They probably care about their men wasting money on it, but it’s understood that Japanese men will visit kyabakura.”
“Is it a brothel?”
Umiko shook her head. “No. Prostitution is illegal in Japan. A hostess bar is like a modern-day geisha who laughs at your jokes, lights your cigarette, and refills your glass. It’s like a fake relationship.”
“That sounds like typical Japanese duality,” Cain said, and winked. “The expense of a relationship without the rewards. In America, we would call it friends without benefits.”
Chapter 53
Cain wasn’t sure what to expect on the Zen retreat. He had never been to anything like it before, but he figured if Umiko was going to be there, then he’d also want to be there. Umiko had an innocence and cautious optimism about her. She was rooted in Japan’s centuries-old traditions, but she was curious and open to the outside world.
All the kendo students met at the dojo in Yokohama at 5:00 a.m. It was still dark outside. Everyone arrived on time, if not early. All the students were cheerful, smiled a lot, and bowed to one another as their customary greeting.
“Umi,” Cain said, “I’m always in awe at how polite the Japanese are.”
“Arigato gozaimasu,” she said with a bow.
“We Americans have to have our coffee first, and even then, it would be fifty-fifty.”
Umiko nodded as she listened. “I’m excited about today. Are you?”
“I am,” Cain replied. “A little nervous, though. Not sure what to expect.”
“Mushin,” Umiko said. “Go with an empty cup, so sensei can fill it with Zen.”
The students loaded their kendo gear and luggage into the tour bus’s baggage compartment. They climbed on the bus in an orderly fashion, and the uniformed bus driver, wearing white gloves and a chauffeur’s hat, drove them the several hours it took to reach the foot of Mount Fuji. Cain sat next to Umiko, but like most of the other Japanese on the bus, she slept during the road trip. Instead, Cain enjoyed sightseeing. He snapped a few pictures through the window, but the early-morning sunrays created a glare and