South of the Border, West of the Sun Page 0,20

Christmas carols booming out of the speakers, I couldn’t make out what she was saying. She talked for a long time. Her coffee, untouched, grew cold. When she passed by me, I could see her face from the front, but still I couldn’t be absolutely sure if she was Shimamoto. She had on thick makeup, and half her face was hidden by those sunglasses. Her eyebrows were distinctly penciled on, and her brightly outlined thin lips were drawn tightly together. Her face did remind me of Shimamoto as a young girl, but if someone had said this wasn’t her, I could buy that as well. After all, the last time I’d seen Shimamoto, we were both twelve, and more than fifteen years had passed. All I could say for sure was that this was an attractive young woman in her twenties who had on an expensive outfit. And she had a bad leg.

Sweat rolled down me. My undershirt was soaked. I took off my coat and ordered another cup of coffee. Just what do you think you’re doing? I asked myself. I’d lost a pair of gloves and gone out to Shibuya to buy a replacement. But as soon as I caught sight of this woman, I was after her like someone possessed. Most people would have gone right up to her and said, “Excuse me, aren’t you Miss Shimamoto?” But I didn’t I didn’t say a thing and followed her. And had finally come to the point where there was no turning back.

Finished with her call, the woman went straight to her seat. Just as before, she sat with her back to me, gazing at the scene outside. The waitress came up to her and asked if she could take the cold coffee away. I couldn’t really hear her, but I think that’s what she must have asked. The woman turned around and nodded. And, it appeared, ordered another cup of coffee. When it came, though, again she didn’t touch it I continued to give the paper a once-over. Again and again she brought her wrist up to check the time on her silver watch, as if she was impatiently waiting for someone. This might be my last chance, I told myself. If that other person shows up, I’ll never be able to talk with her. But I remained rooted to my chair. It’s still okay, I explained to myself. It’s still okay, no need to rush.

Nothing happened for fifteen or twenty minutes. She kept gazing at the street scene outside. Suddenly, without warning, she stood up quietly, held her handbag to her side, and picked up the department store shopping bag in one hand. She’d given up waiting, apparently. Or maybe she wasn’t waiting for anyone, after all. I watched as she paid her bill at the register and left the coffee shop, then I quickly stood, paid my own bill, and took off after her. I could catch her red overcoat making its way through the crowds. I followed her, weaving my way through the throng.

She had her hand up, trying to flag down a cab. Finally a cab switched on its turn signal and pulled up to the curb. I have to call out to her, I thought. If she gets in the cab, it’s all over. Just as I stepped forward, though, someone grabbed my elbow. The powerful grip took my breath away. It didn’t hurt, but the strength of that grip made me choke. I turned around, to find myself face-to-face with a middle-aged man, staring straight at me.

The man was a couple of inches shorter than me but powerfully built. In his mid-forties, I guessed. He had on a dark-gray overcoat and a cashmere muffler, both of which looked awfully expensive. His hair was neatly parted, and he wore a pair of expensive tortoiseshell glasses. Seemingly into sports, he was nicely tanned. Skiing? I wondered. Or maybe tennis? I remembered how Izumi’s father, who loved tennis, had the same sort of tan. This man looked very much the executive of a prosperous firm, or maybe more like a high official in the government. His eyes told you that. The eyes of a man who was used to giving orders.

“Would you care for some coffee?” he asked quietly.

I followed the woman with my eyes. Bending down to get into the cab, she glanced through her sunglasses in our direction. At least it seemed to me she looked our way. The cab door closed, and