Cajun Justice(40)

“Okay.” Tanaka smiled. “You have my word.”

“Talk’s cheap, Tanaka. Let’s shake on it.”

They shook hands.

“I’m still amazed. This train is completely full. We’re like sardines in a can, yet everyone is so polite. There’s nobody talking, besides me.” Cain chuckled lightly. “And when an elderly person gets on board, a younger person gives up their seat.”

“There are over thirteen million people in Tokyo. A city this size could never exist if we weren’t polite to each other,” Tanaka reasoned.

“And so many people are reading—actually reading—a book! It’s a dying hobby in America.”

“Maybe that is because America makes the best movies,” Tanaka said, and smiled. “I wanted to visit Hollywood when I was in college, but I never made the time. I can’t wait to visit California someday.”

About an hour later, they arrived in the city. From the train window, before it went into the station, Cain noticed flickering lights and a Ferris wheel in the background.

“Before we go to your apartment,” Tanaka said, “I’d like to take you to my favorite izakaya.”

“Gesundheit.”

“What?” a confused Tanaka said.

“I thought you sneezed. What was that word you said? Isa—”

“Izakaya. It’s the Japanese word for pub. I would like to buy you a drink at my favorite izakaya.”

“Now you’re talking, Tanaka-san. I can use a drink before sleeping like the dead tonight.”

The izakaya was loud and boisterous. Through the thick fog of cigarette smoke, Cain could see that the place was packed with Japanese businessmen in suits. The men were yelling at one another to be heard over the buzz of the crowd.

“This seems like a complete contrast to the Japanese men I saw at the airport and on the train.”

“Oh, yes. Society does not allow this in public. But in here, it’s okay for salarymen to let off some steam. It’s actually expected.” Tanaka took off his tie and neatly folded it before placing it in his jacket pocket.

“Good to know,” Cain said. “What are we drinking?”

“Sake!” Tanaka shouted in order to be heard.

“That’ll work,” Cain shouted back, and showed his approval with a thumbs-up.

The waitress brought two wooden boxes filled with sake.

“This is how we traditionally drink sake,” Tanaka explained. “The sake is originally in barrels that are broken down into these smaller cups for us to drink from.”

“That’s neat,” Cain said. He raised his small wooden box. “Cheers.”

“Kanpai!” Tanaka raised his drink.

Cain and Tanaka drank several cups of sake; they lost count of how many exactly. Tanaka flagged down the server and ordered soba noodles.

“Do you want some soba noodles also?” Tanaka asked Cain.

“I’m good. The sandwich Bonnie bought me was enough.”

A few moments later, the waitress brought the noodles in a large bowl.

“That looks like a horse trough,” Cain said.

Tanaka smiled and grabbed a pair of wooden chopsticks. He started picking out the noodles and slurping the broth.

“My God,” Cain said. “That slurping sound is like someone scraping their fingernails across a chalkboard. Do all Japanese slurp their noodles, or just the ones in this bar?”

“Slurping loudly is how we tell the chef that it’s good.”

“In my country, we let the chef know the food is good by eating all of it and returning an empty plate. How can you skinny fellas eat so much?” Cain asked.

“Noodles do not count as food. We Japanese have a separate place in our stomachs just for noodles.” Tanaka laughed.

“Hey, you can make jokes, too. Let’s kanpai to that.”

“I miss American food so much,” Tanaka said. “I love American things. The food, the music, the movies, and the big pickup trucks.”

“What else?” Cain asked.

“American women.”

Cain laughed and Tanaka joined in on the laughter for a second before explaining. “American women are much more forward than Japanese women. I had a girlfriend in Florida. She had blond hair and blue eyes—very American. She introduced me to a lot of different things.”

“I bet she did,” Cain said with a loud laugh. “Kanpai!” In unison they took another swig of the warm sake. “What does your wife think about that?”

Tanaka laughed. “I’m not married. I still live with my parents.”

“Really? I left the house at eighteen.”

“Yes, I know. That’s very common in America. But in Japan, it’s very expensive. Many Japanese stay at home until they get married.”

“When’s that?”

“First, I must find the right girl. And she’s probably in America.” Tanaka smiled.

“Kanpai!” Cain said, and they gulped another shot of sake.

Tanaka, now red-faced from drinking, had lowered his inhibitions. “I would have stayed in America had it not been for my father.”

“What do you mean?”

“I miss America. It is the Wild West. Here in Japan, we have too many rules. Don’t get me wrong. Tradition is nice, but adhering to tradition got in the way of my dreams.”