Haruki Murakami - Dance Dance Dance

June ran her fingers across my chest. My resolve was weakening steadily. This was beginning to seem quite easy. If I could just live with the fact that Makimura had bought me a prostitute. But it was only sex. Erection, insertion, ejacula­tion, that's all folks.

«Okay,» I said, «Let's do it.»

«Thatta boy!» exclaimed June, downing her gin-and-tonic.

«But tonight I'm very tired. So no special stunts.» «I do everything. But you do two things.» «Which are?»

«Turn off light, untie ribbon.»

Done. We headed into the bedroom. June had her dress off in a flash, then set about undressing me. She may not have been Mei, but she was skilled at her job and she took pride in her skills. She was fingers and tongue all over me. She got me hard and then she made me come to the beat of Foreigner on the radio. The night had just begun. «Was that good?» «V-very,» I panted.

We treated ourselves to another round of drinks. Suddenly I had a thought. «June, last month you wouldn't have had a 'Mei' here, would you?»

«Funny man!» June burst out laughing. «I like jokes. And next month she is July, right?»

I tried to tell her that it wasn't a joke, but it didn't do any good. So I shut up. And when I did, June did another profes­sional job on me. I didn't have to do a thing, exactly like she said. I just lay there.

She was as fast and efficient as a service station attendant. You pull up and hand over the keys. She takes care of every­thing else: fill up the tank, wash and wax, check the oil, empty the ashes. Could you call it sex? Well, whatever it was, we kept at it until past two when we finally ran out of gas and conked out. It was already light out when we awoke. We'd left the radio on. June was curled up naked

next to me, her pink dress and pink shoes and pink ribbon lying on the floor.

«Hey, get up,» I said, trying to rouse her. «You've got to get out of here. There's a little girl coming over for break­fast.»

«Okay, okay,» she muttered, grabbing up her bag and walking naked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair.

When she was ready to leave, she tossed her lipstick into her bag and closed it with a snap. «So when I come next?»

«Next?»

«I get money for three nights. We fuck last night, we fuck two more nights. Maybe you want different girl? I no mind. Men like sleep with lots girls.»

«No, you're who I want, of course,» I said, at a loss for what else to say. Three nights? Did Makimura want me milked dry?

«You very nice. You no regret. I do wild next time. Okay? You count on me. Night after tomorrow, okay? I have free night. I do whole works.»

«Okay,» I told her, handing her ten dollars for carfare.

«Thank you, you very nice. Bye-bye.»

I cleaned the place up before Yuki arrived, got rid of all the telltale signs, including the pink ribbon. But the moment Yuki stepped into the room a stern expression came over her face. She knew right away. I pretended not to notice her demeanor, whistling as I prepared the coffee and toast and brought them to the table.

She didn't say a word through breakfast, refused to respond to my attempts at conversation.

Finally she placed both hands on the table and glared at me. «You had a woman here last night, didn't you?» she said.

«You really pick up on things, don't you?» I tried to make light of the situation.

«Who was she? Some girl you picked up somewhere?» «Oh c'mon. I'm not that good. She came here of her own

doing.»

«Don't lie to me! Nothing happens like that.» «I'm not lying, I promise. The woman really did come here on her own,» I said. I tried to explain: The woman sud­denly showed up and turned out to be a gift from her father. Maybe it was his idea of giving me a good time, or maybe he was worried and figured if I was sexually sated, I'd stay out of his daughter's bed.

«That's exactly the kind of garbage he'd pull,» said Yuki, resigned but angry. «Why does he always operate on the lowest level? He never understands anything, anything important. Mama's screwy, but Papa's head is on ass back­wards.»

«Yeah, he's totally off the mark.»

«So then why'd you let her in? That woman.»

«I didn't know what was coming off. I had to talk with

her.»

«But don't tell me you ...»

«It wasn't so simple, I—»

«You didn't!» Yuki flew into a huff. Then, at a loss for what to say, she blushed.

«Well, yes. It's a long story. But the truth of the matter is,

I couldn't say no.»

She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her cheeks. «I don't believe this!» Yuki screamed, her voice breaking. «I can't believe you'd do such a thing!»

«Of course, I refused at first,» I tried to defend myself. «But in the end—what can I say?—I gave in. It wasn't just the woman, though of course it was the woman. It was your father and your mother and the way they have this influence on everybody they meet. So I figured what the hell. Also, the woman didn't seem like such a bad deal.»

«I can't believe you're saying this!» Yuki cried. «You let Papa buy a woman for you? And you think nothing of it? That's so shameless, that's wrong. How could you?»

She had a point.

«You have a point,» I said.

«That's really, really shameless.»

«I admit it. It's really, really shameless.'

We repaired to the beach and surfed until noon. During which time Yuki didn't speak a single word to me. When I asked if she wanted to have lunch, she nodded. Did she want to eat back at the hotel? She shook her head. Did she want to eat out? She nodded. After a bit more nonverbal conver­sation, we settled for hot dogs, sitting out on the grass by Fort DeRussy. Three hours and still not a peep out of her.

So I said, «Next time I'll just say no.»

She removed her sunglasses and stared at me as if I were a rip in the sky. For a full thirty seconds. Then she brushed back her bangs. «Next time?!» she enunciated, incredulous. «What do you mean, next time! »

So I did my best to explain how her father had prepaid for two more nights. Yuki pounded the ground with her fist. «I don't believe this. This is really barfbag.»

«I don't mean to upset you, Yuki, but think of it this way. Your father is at least showing concern. I mean, I am a male of the species and you are a young, very pretty female.»

«Really and truly barfbag,» Yuki screamed, holding back tears. She stormed off back to the hotel and I didn't see her until evening.

Hawaii. The next few days were bliss. A respite of peace. When June showed up for my next installment, I begged a fever and turned her down politely. She was very gracious. She got a mechanical pencil from her bag and jot­ted down her number on a notepad. I could call when I felt up to it. Then she said good-bye and left, swinging her hips off into the sunset.

I took Yuki to her mother's a few more times. I took walks with Dick North on the beach, I swam in their pool. Dick could swim amazingly well. Having just one arm hardly seemed to make a difference. Yuki and her mother talked by themselves, about what I had no idea. Yuki never told me and I never asked.

On one occasion Dick recited some Robert Frost to me. My understanding of English wasn't good enough, but Dick's delivery alone conveyed the poetry, which flowed with rhythm and feeling. I also got to see some of Ame's photos, still wet from the developing. Pictures of Hawaiian faces. Ordinary portraits, but in her hands the subjects came alive with honest island vitality and grace. There was an earthiness, a chilling brutality, a sexiness. Powerful, yet

unassuming. Yes, Ame had talent. Not like me and not like you , as Dick had said.

Dick looked after Ame in much the same way I looked after Yuki. Though he, of course, was far more thorough. He cleaned house, washed clothes, cooked meals, did the shopping. He recited poetry, told jokes, put out her ciga­rettes, kept her supplied with Tampax (I once accompanied him shopping), made sure she brushed her teeth, filed her photos, prepared a typewritten catalogue of all her works. All single-handedly. I didn't know where the poor guy found the time to do his own creative work. Though who was I to talk? I was having my trip paid by Yuki's father, with a call girl thrown in on top.