summer he had to be equally careful that the hothouse never became too hot, otherwise the ripened fruit would be tiny and worthless. He switched on the radio and pruned the tomatoes, which would be ready to eat in a few days. As the sweat ran over him, he felt the alcohol he had drunk the previous night seeping from every pore of his body.
The cilia of the young tomato plants reflected a silvery light, and the stem and backs of the leaves were covered with a silver film. Armed with a bed and a cylinder of propane gas, Mitsuo could very well live by himself in the hothouse. Family life was nothing but trouble.
He broke off those branches that had started to spread horizontally. This left a sappy smell under his fingernails. His mind went blank for a few minutes, hypnotized by the radio music.
Koji ran up, apologizing for being late. He wore a straw hat and rubber boots.
"What happened to your construction job?" Mitsuo asked, continuing his work.
"I overslept. My mother woke me up, but I couldn't get out of bed. Besides, I said I'd help you, didn't I?" Koji grabbed a pair of shears from their resting place on a hook attached to an overhanging iron pipe and began harvesting the tomatoes. Mitsuo watched him for a few minutes. Satisfied that Koji knew what he was doing, he returned to his own work.
From a distant part of the hothouse Koji called out, "I must have been smashed last night. I left the headlights on when I got home, and the battery was dead this morning. After we get done here, drive me back and give me a charge, OK?"
"One of these days the cops are gonna catch you, or you'll get in an accident, one of the two."
"Hate to tell you this, but that's one hell of a boring bar. That woman don't say nothin' at all, you know. Maybe she's got nothing to tell me, I don't know. She just stood there at the counter. Just as well, though, I guess, considering that voice of hers."
Mitsuo grunted. He didn't care if the bar went under. It was his father's problem, not his.
With his fingertips he wiped sap from the blades to restore their sharpness. He would have to water the plants in the afternoon, because they demanded extra moisture when the fruit bloomed. He felt he could almost hear the roots sucking up the water.
Koji bawled that he was hungry. His hangover had made him skip breakfast. Outside, the freshly paved asphalt glistened as though wet. Koji tossed a green tomato in his hand as he and Mitsuo walked along. Laundry hung from the balconies of the apartment complex. The sound of bedding being pounded free of dust echoed between the buildings. A pregnant woman sat sunning herself on a bench in the apartment's pebble-strewn park, her legs spread. Children darted about while groups of women stood chatting. A recycler of old newspapers made his rounds, a loud recorded message announcing his presence.
Mitsuo noticed the women's gaze. The only males to visit the complex during the afternoon were salesmen. One mother was teaching her child to ride a bike, which sparkled in the sunlight. Koji gnawed at the tomato, looking the women over one by one as though determining which one to choose. The complex was truly an island, an artificial one plopped in the middle of woods and paddies.
A row of shops faced the apartments. In front of a candy store a group of women and children stood licking ice cream cones. A candy wrapper crackled under Mitsuo's feet. He and Koji entered a coffee shop situated between a beauty parlor and a pharmacy. Soft music bounced around the empty booths. They seated themselves, and a woman wearing high-heeled sandals brought them water and hot towels.
"How good of you to drop in," she said to Mitsuo with spirit. It was the red-haired woman who had led the first group of tomato buyers to the hothouse. Her fingernails matched the color of her hair. She smiled and said, "What'll it be?"
Koji decided to make conversation. "Nice to meet you."
Mitsuo put an end to pleasantries by interjecting, "We're starving." He stared at the woman's face. She'd taken great care with her makeup, and she wore false eyelashes. Her blouse, partly unbuttoned, revealed much of her chest, upon which a gold necklace dangled. Mitsuo's persistent stare made her look away. "Give us a menu."
She pointed to the wall and the long, thin pieces of paper on which the menu was written.
Koji called out happily, "Curry and rice, with coffee."
Mitsuo raised two fingers. She smiled an acknowledgment, at the same time narrowing her eyes. This caused her dark blue eyeshadow to spread slightly. Mitsuo and Koji slid down in their seats, stretching their legs as they read manga while waiting for their food.
The redhead brought two deep bowls of curry and said, as she set them on the table, "We serve liquor at night, you know. Come in sometime and reserve a bottle of whiskey." The earrings hanging from her earlobes twitched each time she opened her mouth. Mitsuo shut his manga.
"So your husband's looking after the kids?"
She pretended to be angry. "How rude of you. Actually, I don't have a husband. I run this shop with a friend of mine. We exchange shifts so we can take turns with the child care."
Koji asked for seconds on the curry and shoveled it into his mouth when it arrived. Mitsuo, smoking a cigarette, continued to glance at the woman where she stood behind the counter. She encouraged them a number of times to come drinking at night, and they nodded in response.
A siren blared and they rushed out to see what was happening. Over by the apartment complex an ambulance screeched to a halt. Women with children in their arms ran to meet it. From a balcony overhead, a woman leaned over as though to jump. The hair of the women and children who milled about was made candescent by the red of the ambulance's flashing light. The paramedics tramped into one of the buildings. The women standing about seemed relieved.
"Say, it's the guy from the tomato hothouse," a voice said.
Mitsuo raised a hand and waved at nobody in particular. Koji grinned, moving his jaw back and forth as though chewing gum. A woman was brought out of the building on a stretcher, a dazzling white blanket wrapped around her head.
The red-haired woman appeared beside him. "You're not planning to run off without paying your bill, are you?"
Mitsuo placed his hand on her shoulder. "A murder?"
"More likely she's ready to give birth. Happens all the time."
Mitsuo would have been happier to hear it was a homicide. It seemed like too much fuss just for having a baby. He paid the redhead the amount she mentioned. The ambulance drove off, the siren at full blast. The onlookers scattered into smaller circles to gossip.
Across the grass field, steam rose from the hothouse and enveloped it in a rainbow. Mitsuo thought about how he would like to harvest as many of the tomatoes as possible to free up nutrients for the remainder and allow them to flourish. Suddenly he observed a shadow in the hothouse, and ran as fast as he could toward it. The figure drew toward the door, as though having heard the approaching footsteps. When he saw Mitsuo, he waved. It was his father, dressed in baggy new work clothes.
"If you came just to make a show, you can go on home right now."
His father's lips cracked a smile. "You said you needed help, so here I am." He caught sight of Koji. "Oh, long time no see! How's it going?"
"Not bad. Haven't been going at it as hard as you, though."
Mitsuo
