it, Patty," Alice said sternly. "It's not funny; it's disgusting!"
Ginger bit her lip. Joe shivered, and then groaned as he saw what was in the road ahead.
They drew abreast of a wagon loaded with wooden buckets, drawn by an ox and led by a bent Japanese. Alice gagged as she caught a whiff of its odorous load.
"What's that?" she gasped.
"Honey wagon," Joe explained, hoping no elaboration would be necessary. Dick and Alice continued to stare blankly at the wagon.
"It doesn't smell like honey," Pete said. "It smells like . . ."
"Peter!" Alice commanded sharply.
Joe cleared his throat. "It's not really honey, of course. He empties cesspools—uses a big dipper and collects it in his honey buckets."
A moment of awful silence. Then Patty asked, "What does he do with the . . . the honey?"
"He sells it for fertilizer," Joe confessed. "They call it 'night soil'."
"The Japanese are very thrifty," Ginger added.
"Maybe you call it thrift," Alice said with a shudder. "I call it filthy pagan ignorance."
Joe decided he'd better not point out any more wonders of the Orient today, and held his tongue the rest of the way into Tokyo while Dick and Alice muttered complaints about the traffic, the filthy benjo ditches alongside the road, and the unpainted houses. The hotel, at least, the Pointers found acceptable—a "Little America" in the heart of Tokyo. Joe and Ginger saw them to their suite, and promised to pick them up in the morning to show them some houses.
"Whew," Joe said, back in the car again. "I feel like I just caught and caged a couple of tigers."
"I'm afraid I didn't make a very big hit with your new boss's wife," Ginger apologized.
"Don't feel like the Lone Ranger," Joe said, squeezing her thigh. "They didn't like anything else they saw or heard either."
"The kids, at least, seem rational. Especially Patty."
"Somehow we're going to have to sell Dick and Alice on Japan, Gin. Show 'em it's not all bad. If we don't, I'm afraid it's going to be pure hell working under Dick."
Ginger wrinkled her nose.
"Don't you think so?" Joe persisted.
"I think it's going to be pure hell trying to sell them on Japan!"
"Well, we've got to try," Joe said. "And we can practice our salesmanship tomorrow, with the house."
"I wish now you hadn't paid in advance. You know they won't like it. It's too Japanese."
"Maybe they will if I show them the other two places first, and let them see how bad western-style private rentals can be," Joe said hopefully.
A night's sleep seemed to have improved the Pointers' dispositions, Joe noted when he met them the next morning. Dick even offered coffee.
"Thanks," Joe said, accepting. "It's pretty chilly out this morning."
"Oh?" Alice said. "The kids didn't say."
"Pete and Patty stuck their noses out awhile ago to sniff around," Dick went on. "We haven't been out yet."
Alice stepped to the window and stared out at the street two floors below. "Frankly," she said, "I haven't been out of this hotel because I'm scared to death. I look out, and I'm petrified. Maybe I saw too many Charlie Chan movies, or think too much about what they did to Dick's dad. Last night I thought I might step out for some air. Then I looked out this window, and saw all the neon signs flashing in alien hieroglyphics. And the horns honking, and brakes squealing, and sirens wailing. Little headlights and big headlights screaming down the streets, like all sorts of stampeding animals. I had nightmares," she said, facing about.
"Ma's very emotional," Pete drawled.
Alice looked at him spitefully, but for once didn't scold him. "Then this morning I looked out again," she continued, "hoping it had just been my imagination. The night animals were gone, but in the daylight I could see the true, stark ugliness. The gray concrete, the never-painted buildings—the mass of squinty Japs, all in black and white—the ugly trucks, like salvage from a junk yard, and the midget taxis racing everywhere, skidding and dodging as if they were determined to kill themselves and everyone else as well." She shuddered and stepped away from the window. "I guess I've got to face it sometime, though. I can't hide in this room the whole five years."
When Joe turned the station wagon into the left lane out of the parking lot, he could sense Alice flinching again.
"I'll never get used to driving on the wrong side," she sighed.
"Maybe Ma should get a rick-a-shay to chauffeur her around," Pete suggested.
"Maybe you should get you a Geisha girl to laugh at your jokes," Patty said, snorting. "I'm sure they'd go for a witty boy like you."
"What's a person do for excitement around here," Pete asked of Joe. "Go down to the station and watch the trains come in?"
"I'm afraid Tokyo doesn't cater much to the American juvenile set," Joe answered with just the faintest trace of irritation at Pete's constant impertinence. "Lots of fun when you get on base, though. Ball games, sock hops at the Teen Club, hobby centers, Youth Activities . . ."
"Corn," Pete said.
"How about big folks?" Dick asked. "What do we get—USO shows?"
"Not entirely," Joe smiled. "We get some big names at the Officers Club now and then. Good movies, nice pool . . . help me out, Ginger."
"Lovely golf course, if you're one of those," Ginger said.
"I am," Dick said, and Ginger shrank slightly.
"Stag nite every Wednesday and Beer Call every Tuesday," Joe ticked off on his fingers. "Off base, there's horse racing, pro baseball, Sumo wrestling, fabulous stage shows downtown . . ."
"And for famiry fun," Ginger quoted in her best Japan Travel Agent voice, "visit one of many faburous resorts surrounding Tokyo—Atami, Nikko, Kamakura, Hakone, and Fuji-san."
"Seriously, you should," Joe said, "if you want to see Japan at its best. Gin and I are always taking off and going some place."
"We'd love to show you around some of these places," Ginger offered.
"Would you?" Patty bubbled.
Dick rubbed his chin. "Well, I don't know. I expect Alice and I are going to like American Village best of any place in this country. Asia for the Asians, as the saying goes."
"They can have it," Alice agreed.
Joe turned the car into a narrow alley and stopped in the midst of what would appear, at first glance, to be slums. "This is about as American a village as you'll find," he said. "One of the few purely American private rental areas on this side of Tokyo—all Air Force."
They climbed out, and Alice and Dick looked first left
