Toshikazu Kawaguchi: Before the Coffee Gets Cold

Fumiko was beginning to feel quite stubborn.

If it’s all a lie, then so be it. But I’m not going to be fooled by this lie.

Fumiko addressed the woman in the dress politely. ‘Look, it will only be for a short while. Please would you kindly allow me to sit there.’

But it was as if her words hadn’t reached the woman’s ears. She continued reading without the slightest reaction.

Being totally ignored like this darkened Fumiko’s mood. She grabbed the woman’s upper arm.

‘Stop! You mustn’t do that!’ warned Kazu loudly.

‘Hey! Just stop it! Stop just ignoring me!’

Fumiko tried to forcefully drag the woman in the dress from her seat.

And then it happened… The woman in the dress’s eyes widened and she glared at her fiercely.

She felt as if the weight of her body had increased many times over. It felt as if dozens of heavy blankets had fallen over her. The light in the cafe dimmed to the brightness of candlelight. An unworldly wailing began to reverberate through the cafe.

She was paralysed. Unable to move a muscle, she dropped to her knees and then fell to a crawling position.

‘Ugh! What’s happening? What’s happening?’

She had absolutely no idea what was happening. Kazu, in a smug, told-you-so kind of way, simply said, ‘She cursed you.’

When Fumiko heard curse , she didn’t understand at first.

‘Huh?’ she asked with a groan.

Unable to withstand this invisible force that seemed to be getting stronger, Fumiko was now lying face down on the floor.

‘What? What is this? What’s going on?’

‘It’s a curse. You went ahead and did what you did, and she cursed you,’ said Kazu as she slipped back into the kitchen, leaving Fumiko sprawled on the floor.

Lying face down, Fumiko didn’t see Kazu go, but with one ear firmly against the floor, she clearly heard Kazu leave by the sound of her fading footsteps. Her fear was so intense, Fumiko shivered as if icy water had been poured over her entire body.

‘You’ve got to be kidding. Look at me! What can I do?’

There was no response. Fumiko started shuddering.

The woman in the dress was still glaring at Fumiko with a terrifying expression. She seemed a completely different person to the woman who had been calmly reading her book just moments earlier.

‘Help me! Please help me!’ Fumiko yelled out to the kitchen.

Kazu calmly returned. Fumiko could not see this, but Kazu was holding a glass carafe of coffee in her hand. Fumiko heard her footsteps coming towards her, but she had no idea what was happening – first the rules, then the ghost, and now the curse. It was all utterly bewildering.

Kazu hadn’t even given her any indication whether she meant to help her or not. Fumiko was on the verge of yelling Help! at the top of her lungs.

But right at that moment…

‘Would you care for some more coffee?’ Fumiko heard Kazu asking nonchalantly.

Fumiko was incensed. Ignoring her in her moment of need, Kazu was not only not helping, she was offering the woman in the dress some more coffee. Fumiko was dumbfounded. I was clearly told that she was a ghost, and it was wrong of me not to believe it. It was also wrong of me to grab on to the woman’s arm and try to forcefully remove her from her chair. But even though I’ve been yelling ‘Help me!’ the girl has just been ignoring me and now she is breezily asking that woman if she wants more coffee! Why would a ghost be wanting another coffee!

‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ was all that Fumiko was able to vocalize, however.

But without hesitation, ‘Yes, please,’ an eerily ethereal voice replied.

It was the woman in the dress who had spoken. Suddenly, Fumiko’s body felt lighter.

‘Aah…’

The curse had been lifted. Fumiko, unencumbered and panting, stood upright on her knees and glared at Kazu.

Kazu returned her gaze, as if to ask, You have something to say? and shrugged with indifference. The woman in the dress took a sip from her freshly poured coffee and then returned quietly to her book.

Acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Kazu disappeared back to the kitchen to return the carafe. Fumiko once more reached her hand out to touch the shoulder of that terrifying woman in the dress. Her fingers could feel her. The woman is here. She exists.

Unable to understand such weird events, Fumiko was completely confused. She had experienced the whole thing – she couldn’t dispute that. Her body had been pushed down by an invisible force. Though she could not make sense of things in her head, her heart had already fathomed the situation well enough to be pumping gallons of blood through her body.

She stood up and walked towards the counter, feeling quite dizzy. By the time she had made her way there, Kazu had returned from the kitchen.

‘Is she really a ghost?’ Fumiko asked Kazu.

‘Yes,’ was Kazu’s only reply. She had started topping up the sugar pot with sugar.

So, this totally impossible thing happened… Fumiko once more began to hypothesize. If the ghost… and the curse… really happened, then what they say about going back in time might also really be true!

Experiencing the curse had convinced Fumiko that you can go back . But there was a problem.

It was that rule – in order to go back to the past, you have to sit in one particular seat. Sitting in that one particular seat, however, is a ghost. Anything I say doesn’t get through to her. And when I tried to sit there forcefully, she cursed me. What am I meant to do?

‘You just have to wait,’ Kazu said, as if she could hear Fumiko’s thoughts.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Every day, there is just one moment when she goes to the toilet.’

‘A ghost needs to go to the toilet?’

‘While she’s gone, you can sit there.’

Fumiko stared hard into Kazu’s eyes. She gave a small nod. That seemed to be the only solution. As to Fumiko’s question of whether ghosts go to the toilet, Kazu was unsure of whether it was genuine curiosity or meant for comedic effect and decided to ignore it with a deadpan expression.

Fumiko drew a deep breath. A moment ago she had been grasping at straws. Now she had a piece of straw in her hand, and she wasn’t going to let it go. She once had read a story about a man who traded his way up from one piece of straw to become a millionaire. If she was to become a straw millionaire, she mustn’t waste that straw.

‘OK… I’ll wait. I’ll wait!’

‘Fine, but you should know that she doesn’t differentiate between day and night.’

‘Yes. OK, I’ll wait,’ Fumiko said, desperately clutching her straw. ‘What time do you close?’

‘Regular opening hours are until eight p.m. But if you decide you want to wait, you can wait for as long as it takes.’

‘Thank you!’

Fumiko sat down at the middle of the three tables. She sat with her chair facing the woman in the dress. She folded her arms and breathed hard through her nose.

‘I’m going to get that seat!’ she announced, glaring at the woman in the dress. The woman in the dress was reading her book, as always.

Kazu gave a little sigh.

‘Hello. Good evening!’ said Kazu, delivering her standard greeting. ‘Kohtake!’

Standing in the open doorway was a woman. She looked like she might be a little over forty.

Kohtake was wearing a navy blue cardigan over a nurse’s uniform and carrying a plain shoulder bag. Breathing a little heavily as if she had been running, she held her hand on her chest as if to steady her breath.

‘Thanks for calling,’ she said. She spoke quickly.