An unsettling encounter

Dad always had some lecture to give or experiment to attend to, so I was mostly on my own. Weekdays were busy enough with school which had longer hours than back home, but week-ends dragged on. I often explored the maze of old streets puzzled by the random mix of objects in the window of a pawn shop, shivered at the sight of wooden Kokeshi dolls in a dark frame.

One day I came across a minute building with the windows obstructed by pot plants. The entrance door had a stained-glass window that reminded me of home. A weathered metal garden table stood by the entrance with an old-fashioned three-globes lamp with on it. Its light beckoned to me. As I approached, I noticed a very discreet sign with faded writing. It appeared to be a shop of some sort. I peeked through a plant-free patch and saw a dark wooden counter and a couple of tables, probably a cafe. The interior looked welcoming, a warm orange glow flowing through the window. I yearned to go in and almost pushed the door, hesitated and turned away.

It took me several attempts before I summoned enough courage to push the door of the hidden cafe. Something kept me out and something called me in. I had been in the Tokyo for two months by then and the novelty had worn off. I missed Rina’s company, Mum’s cooking, Grandma’s comforting presence. I was sick of half-price bento boxes for dinner and I would have done anything for a jacket potato. I was so desperate I would have even had one of Rina’s mum weird concoctions she called curries. On second thought, maybe not.

As I stepped in, I realised the cafe was the size of Grandma’s living-room and felt very much like it. There were only two tables, one covered with an assortment of flower vases and random items including a coloured-glass parrot. At the counter there were three seats and behind it stood a tall, ageless woman in an autumn-brown kimono. She fitted so well with her surroundings that I had not immediately noticed her presence.

“So, you have finally decided to come in.”

“I wasn’t sure it was open for everyone.”

“Oh, we’re open for anyone who finds us and is willing to come in. Please take a seat.”

I sat at the counter and studied the room. On the wall behind the counter hang two white Noh masks: a female and a demon one. There was something deeply unsettling about them so I shifted position and pretended to search for the menu, but the woman had already placed a teacup and a plate in front of me. I stared in disbelief: it was a jacket potato with tune, baked beans and a heap of grated cheddar on top. I had just found heaven.

I lingered in the café for a good while after I had finished eating. The quirky atmosphere had melted into an old familiarity. It was getting late when I reluctantly said goodbye. In response, the woman returned a warm smile, her expression mirrored on the female Noh mask. The demon mask was frozen in a sardonic grin.

I took to going to the cafe every weekend to avoid the mouldy flat, which had also become unbearably cold. The owner, her name was Tama-san, charged me close to nothing. I would get in and set my books on the counter. She would serve strong black tea and comfort food and then we would spend the next hour in silence, me reading or going through my homework, she wiping the china to perfection.

I seemed to be the only customer, but one afternoon someone else came in. It was a man, perhaps in his early twenties in a long black coat with a strange cut, many zips and buckles. The coat’s hood had floppy rabbit years, but since no fashion style is surprising in Tokyo I didn’t think much of it. As soon as he saw me, he flashed a wide grin and sat next to me. He wore high Dr. Martens boots and a shoulder bag hanging low about his knees. Tama-san’s usually impenetrable features hinted annoyance.

“And who do we have here?” asked the young man. His manner seemed all too friendly yet there was a condescending touch in his tone.

“Please don’t disturb the other customers,” Tama-san handed him a cup of black coffee. How could she brew it so quickly?

“Oh, a Wanderer I see,” observed the man studying with interest my shadow on the floor.

I checked my shadow for any abnormalities, but could not see any. “I’m a high-school student,” I said although it should have been obvious from the uniform.

“Oh, isn’t that jolly good,” he replied. “Are you by any chance interested in doing a part-time job?” He drew himself to an uncomfortably close distance. A whiff of herbs and spices. His long light-coloured hair fell forward revealing a bright green leaf-shaped earring.

Tama-san stopped wiping. It must have been a trick of the light because the Noh masks on the wall seemed to have changed expression to match her frown.

“What? I’m just asking,” he replied with an innocent look. He moved back a bit, his earring quivering as if in a breeze.

“I think I am fine for now. I have to focus on study,” I touched my books as if to prove it. Tama-san resumed the wiping.

“That’s a shame then,” he said and stood up. “But let’s chat more next time,” he added heading for the door. “See ya.” He was gone. My muscles relaxed. The Noh masks seemed to have returned to their usual expressions.

“Who was that?”

“The Herbalist. Watch your drink while he’s around!”

From: Rina Lewis <[email protected]>

To: Morgan Takahashi <[email protected]>

Sent: 24 October 2003 10:30

Subject: Re: Re:

Nothing even remotely interesting happened since you left.

Don’t know what’s wrong with Mum! She doesn’t let me go anywhere, do anything. She’s watching like I’m planning a crime or something. We used to roam around as kids, remember? I don’t get it why being a teenager makes you automatically suspect.

Jeez, it’s almost half-term and I’ll be stuck home watching telly with nothing better to do.

I bet that you’re having a great time meeting cool people.