hours together, but this association was dissipating since my body of friendsWestern and Oriental-was increasing. He frowned upon Japanese youths. He weighed carefully each cigarette that passed out of his surveillance and control. I noticed that some young men looked about the area furtively before entering the cottage. I vaguely suspected that Shuji had something to do with it.
Shuji was growing, so was I, so was the village. I bought a red jeep in Sapporo for $400. Sapporo was the big city about fifty-five miles from the village. I had taken several lessons in driving a jeep recently but was not considered ready to take over. However, I was desperately eager to explore deeper than the scooter permitted. I got into the vehicle alone and drove it through the crowded city with its broken streets and tramway tracks into the dirt roads that led through the hills and to the village. It was a hair-raising experience. The gas pedal kept falling off and there were no lights inside the vehicle. I was almost a casualty and the jeep was at one point inches from going off a cliff, but when I arrived home I was an accomplished driver. As I drove through the street of the village, I saw Shuji walking with a girl in imitation of the American servicemen who were moving into the camp near by in truckloads. He was dressed in one of the suits I gave him and he was wearing a pair of glasses. I never saw him wear them before he didn't need them. He was trying to look like me. He was embarrassed about it when we met later. We never spoke of it, and I never saw him do this again.
That evening I entered the cottage to find a futon spread out with Shuji and his girl friend-rather chubby-within the two parts of the sleeping bag, a lovely pink pastel bed on the mats. Since he gave no notice of company, I found the incident an outrage. I should have been more patient in my anger though I said nothing. He said his "cousin" had nowhere to stay. He tried to color the relationship with innocence since a Westerner would need that type of explanation. Actually, a Japanese boy could ordinarily be trusted by a girl when they were alone. She might have the task of seduction.
What happened was a defense mechanism against the village we would soon no longer recognize. Houses were going up all about us. Stores, tea houses, and homes were erected overnight. Electric lights glared as the carpenters and laborers constructed flimsy edifices. Brothels proliferated. Our cottage was surrounded by newly built bordels. I was hardly aware of them until one evening as I studied my Japanese grammar on the tatami, I heard a knock. I opened the door to a crying Japanese girl. In a mixture of two languages I understood that one of her patrons had stolen money from her purse. Since it was an American serviceman, she wanted me to negotiate with him for its return. I walked out with her toward several pleasant soldiers who stood outside the house. I recognized the one she accused. He explained that he merely retrieved what had been stolen from his wallet the previous night. Since I found him convincing and understood his problem, I let the girl down and went back to my quarters. Several days later as I opened the door of the silly-looking red jeep, which was parked in front of the brothel in which the theft incident occurred, I heard a raucous feminine laugh unmistakably derisive. I turned toward the window from which it emanated: there was a beautiful girl with her features contorted by the forced laughter. She was angry with me apparently because I did not support her colleague, but there was more, I discovered. She had taken Shuji to task about the rich American. Since he had no woman, he should take one from among the populous, indigenous females. Japan had an oversupply six years
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