Haruki Murakami - Dance Dance Dance

There are times when I need to chat myself up like that.

After I'd watched her enough, I took the elevator back to my room and read a book. The sky outside was heavy with clouds, making me feel like I was living in a poorly lit stage set. I didn't know when my ex-partner would call back, so I didn't want to go out, which left me little else to do but read. I soon finished the Jack London and started in on the Spanish Civil War.

It was a day like a slow-motion video of twilight. Uneventful, to put it mildly. The lead gray of the sky mixed ever so slowly with black, finally blending into night. Just another quality of melancholy. As if there were only two col­ors in the world, gray and black, shifting back and forth at regular intervals.

I dialed room service and had them send up a sandwich, which I ate a bite at a time between sips of a beer. When there's nothing to do, you do nothing slowly and intently. At seven-thirty, my ex-partner rang.

«I got ahold of the guy,» he said.

«A lot of trouble?»

«Mmm, some,» he said after a slight pause, making it obvious that it had been extremely difficult. «Let me run through everything with you. I suppose you could say the lid was shut pretty tight on this one. And not just shut, it was bolted down and locked away in a vault. No one had access to it. Case closed. No dirt to be dug up anymore. Seems there might have been some small irregularities in govern­ment or city hall. Nothing important, just fine tuning, as they say. Nobody knows any more than that. The Attorney's Office snooped around, but couldn't come up with anything incriminating. Lots of lines running through this one. Hot stuff. It was hard to get anything out of anyone.»

«This concern of mine is personal. It won't make trouble for anyone.»

«That's exactly what I told the guy.»

Still holding the receiver, I reached over to the refrigerator to get another beer, and poured it into a glass.

«At the risk of sounding like your mother, a word to the wise: If you're going to pry, you're going to get hurt,» my ex-partner said. «This one, it seems, is big, real big. I don't know what you've got going there, but I wouldn't get in too deep if I were you. Think of your age and standing, you ought to live out your life more peaceably. Not that I'm the best example, mind you.»

«Gotcha,» I said.

He coughed. I took another sip of beer.

«About the old Dolphin owner, seems the guy didn't give in until the very last, which brought him a lot of grief. Should've walked right out of there, but he just wouldn't leave. Couldn't read the big picture.»

«He was that type,» I said. «Very untrendy.»

«He got the bad end of the business. A bunch of yakuza moved into the hotel and had a field day. Nothing so bad as to bother the law. They set up court in the lobby, and stared down anyone who walked into the place. You get the idea, no? Still, the guy held out for the count.»

«I can see it,» I said. The owner of the Dolphin Hotel was well acquainted with misery in its various forms. No small measure of misfortune was going to faze him.

«In the end, the Dolphin came out with the strangest counteroffer. Your guy told them he'd pack up shop on one condition. And you know what that was?»

«Haven't a clue,» I said.

«Take a guess. Think, man, just a bit. It's the answer to one of your other questions.»

«On the condition that they kept the Dolphin Hotel name. Is that it?»

«Bingo,» he said. «Those were the terms, and that's what the buyers agreed to.»

«But c'mon, why?»

«It's not such a bad name. 'Dolphin Hotel' sounds fair enough, as names go.»

«Well, I guess,» I said.

«What's more, this hotel was supposed to be the flagship for a whole new chain of hotels that A enterprises was planning. Luxury hotels, not their usual top-of-the-middle class. And they didn't have a name for it yet.»

«Voila! The Dolphin Hotel Chain.»

«Right. A chain to rival the Hiltons and Hyatts of the world.»

«The Dolphin Hotel Chain,» I tried it out one more time. A heritage passed on, a dream unfurled. «So then what hap­pened to the old Dolphin owner?»

«Who knows?»

I took another sip of my beer and scratched my ear with the tip of my pen.

«When he left they gave him a good chunk of money, so he could be doing almost anything. But there's no way to trace him. He was a bit player, just passing through.»

«I suppose.»

«And that's about it,» said my ex-partner. «That's all I could find out. Nothing more. Will that do you?»

«Thanks. You've been loads of help,» I said.

He cleared his throat.

«You out some dough?» I asked.

«Nah,» he said. «I'll buy the guy dinner, then take him to a club in Ginza, pay his carfare home. That's not a lot, so forget about it. I can write it off as expenses anyway. Every­thing's deductible. Hell, my accountant tells me all the time to spend more. So don't worry about it. If you ever feel like going to a Ginza club, let me know. It'll be on me. Seeing as you've never been to any of those places.»

«And what's the attraction of a Ginza club?»

«Booze, girls,» he said. «Kind words from my tax accountant.»

«Why don't you go with him?»

«I did, not so long ago,» he said, sounding absolutely bored.

We said our good-byes and hung up.

I started to think about my ex-partner. He was the same age as me, and already he was getting a paunch. All kinds of prescription drugs in his desk. Actually concerned about who won elections. Worried about his kids' education. He was always fighting with his wife, but basically he was a real family man. He had his weaknesses to be sure, he was known to drink too much, but he was a hardworking, straightforward kind of guy. In every sense of the word.

We'd teamed up right after college and gotten on pretty well. It was a small translation business, and it gradually expanded in scale. We weren't exactly the closest of friends, but we made a fine enough partnership. We saw each other every day like that, but we never fought once. He was quiet and well-mannered, and I myself wasn't the arguing type. We had our differences, but managed to keep working together out of mutual respect. But when something unfore­seen came up, we split up, perhaps at the best time too. He got started again, kept up both ends of the business, maybe better than when we were together, honestly. That is, if his client list is anything to go on. The company got bigger, he got a whole new crew. Even psychologically, he seemed a lot more secure.

More likely I was the one with problems. And I probably exerted a not-so-healthy influence over him. Which helps to explain why he was able to find his way after I left. Fawning and flattering to get the best out of his people, cracking stupid jokes with the woman who keeps the books, dutifully taking clients out to Ginza clubs no matter how dull he found it. He might have been too nervous to do that if I were still around. He was always aware of how I saw him, worried about what I would think. That was the kind of guy he was. Though, to tell the truth, I didn't pay a lot of attention to what he was doing next to me.

Good he's his own man now. In every way.

That is, by my leaving, he wasn't afraid to act his age, and he came into his own.

So where did that leave me?

At nine o'clock the phone rang. I wasn't expecting a call —nobody besides my ex-partner knew I was here—so at first the sound of the phone ringing didn't register. After four rings I picked up the receiver.

«You were watching me in the lobby today, weren't you?» It was my receptionist friend. She didn't seem angry, but then she wasn't exactly happy either. Her voice was without equivocation.

«Yes, I was,» I admitted.