“Oh, Miss Yoneko, what are you saying! There is no way that a man as considerate as Shinzaburō would forget about you! He shall be buying three lanterns, for sure! Three, at the very least.”
So this is their sales strategy, thought Shinzaburō, utterly aghast. After watching them prattle on at each other for a while, he felt he’d had enough of being neglected.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t want any of your lanterns. Contrary to what you seem to think, if I go around buying such stuff while I’m without an income, the only thanks I’ll get from my wife will be a good telling-off.”
There was a second’s pause and then a sickly, snake-like voice came slithering out of Tsuyuko’s mouth.
“Then we shall resent you, Shinzaburō.”
“W-what?”
“We will resent you,” she repeated, fixing him with a withering look.
“Now, now, Tsuyuko,” said Yoneko. “It will not do to rush Mr. Hagiwara into a decision. We mustn’t pressure him. Let’s allow him first to experience our much-vaunted lanterns. I have no doubt he’ll be delighted by them. Mr. Hagiwara, would you mind advising me where your light switch is?”
Shinzaburō looked toward the switch and, as if in silent understanding, the lights in the room immediately dimmed. Before Shinzaburō had time to register his surprise, the lantern on the table swelled with light, illuminating the darkened room.
On the other side floated the green-white faces of the two women. Shinzaburō remembered playing this kind of game with his friends at school—everyone shining flashlights under their faces to try to scare one another. Finally acclimatizing to the evening’s unrelenting stream of reason-defying events, Shinzaburō was sufficiently relaxed to reminiscence about his boyhood. Filtering through the peonies, the soft lantern light spilled into the room. It was as if another world had materialized, right there in his living room. With their legs concealed under the table, the women looked as if they consisted of their upper bodies alone, free-floating in the air.
“You two look just like gho—I mean, you seem somehow not of this world.”
Immediately regretting his choice of words, Shinzaburō grimaced.
“You mean us?” asked Yoneko with a wry smile. She seemed not at all displeased by the remark.
“And what would you do if we were . . . not of this world?” asked Tsuyuko, looking up at him through her eyelashes, lips iridescent with gloss, or spit, or something else entirely. Then, without waiting for his answer, the two women dissolved into a fit of giggles.
The lights in the room blinked on.
“So you see, that’s how it works. It’s a rather good product, wouldn’t you say?” Yoneko and Tsuyuko smiled in unison.
“Indeed, but I really don’t need it,” said Shinzaburō.
The two women shared a glance and nodded gravely. When they turned to look at Shinzaburō again, their faces bore entirely different expressions.
“If you don’t buy our lanterns, Shinzaburō, I will perish,” said Tsuyuko.
“Now, Mr. Hagiwara, did you hear that? Miss Tsuyuko says she’s going to perish,” said Yoneko.
“Do what you like to me, I’m not going to leave here until Shinzaburō buys some!” said Tsuyuko, breaking into a screechy voice like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Oh, listen to that!” Yoneko went on persistently in a low murmur. “If your wife comes home and sees Tsuyuko here, she’ll be terribly jealous, won’t she, Mr. Hagiwara? If only you would buy a lantern, we’d leave immediately.” While Yoneko was speaking, she and Tsuyuko snuck glances at Shinzaburō.
“I said I wasn’t going to buy one,” said Shinzaburō firmly. The more excitable the two women grew, the more he found himself regaining his composure.
“Did you hear that, Miss Tsuyuko? You’d be better off giving up on a rotten-hearted man like this one.”
“No, Miss Yoneko. I trust him. I trust dear Shinzaburō.”
“Now, Mr. Hagiwara. Did you hear what Miss Tsuyuko just said? How awfully touching.”
Observing the farce being played out before his eyes, Shinzaburō found himself unexpectedly marveling at their teamwork. Yoneko was stunning in her supporting role. There was no way Tsuyuko alone would have garnered such impact. Their methods certainly ran against the grain of traditional sales techniques, but it had to be said there was something formidable about them. It must be down to desperation, Shinzaburō thought—desperation at their lack of success. He even began to consider just buying one of the damned things out of pity, but when he pictured his wife’s expression upon seeing the new acquisition, the temptation fizzled away. For two or three years now, his wife had only had eyes for Scandinavian homeware, not this traditional Japanese decor.
Tsuyuko and Yoneko were keeping up their noisy masquerade. With sudden clarity he saw that whether he chose to buy a lantern or not, hell awaited him regardless.
The next thing he knew, Shinzaburō was laughing out loud. It felt like a long time since he’d laughed properly like this. If push came to shove, he thought as he chuckled, you could carry on life like these goofballs did, and you’d still be fine. Well, depending on your definition of fine, of course—but at any rate, nothing terrible would happen to you if you broke the rules. With that thought, Shinzaburō felt a hot surge behind his eyes, and quickly clenched his teeth.
Apparently unnerved by this alteration in him, Yoneko and Tsuyuko spoke.
“Have you had a change of heart, Mr. Hagiwara?”
“Have you decided to accommodate my request, Shinzaburō?”
“No, I’m not going to buy a lantern. But still, thank you, nonetheless.” His voice sounded dignified, somehow, and free. When he next looked, Tsuyuko and Yoneko appeared to be suspended in midair. The next moment, the lights in the room went off again, as if someone had blown out all the candles.
Shinzaburō woke to the sound of sparrows cheeping outside the window. He lifted his head from the living room floor and saw four lanterns strewn about him. Tsuyuko and Yoneko were nowhere to be seen.
At the sound of keys in the door, Shinzaburō quickly sat up and prepared himself for the next onslaught. But the person who came rushing into the room with a loud “Hi! I’m home!” carrying her suitcase so the wheels didn’t leave marks on the floor, was his wife. Taking in the messy room, with Shinzaburō stretched out sloppily on the floor, she frowned and said in a tone of utter disbelief, “Oh, for heaven’s sake!”
Shinzaburō couldn’t help but notice that her gestures and her expressions weren’t unlike those of Tsuyuko and Yoneko. Why did all women pull the same face when they looked at him?
“What have you been doing in here? I thought you were supposed to be looking for a job while I was gone! And what on earth are these? Some kind of failed DIY experiment?”
Listening to his wife’s protestations as she picked up the lanterns littering the room, Shinzaburō thought of his wallet, which would probably be a few notes lighter, and a pang of dread spread through him. Of course, for a salesperson to take money without permission went against every rule in the book, but he wouldn’t have put it past those two. It was basically theft! How much were they charging for those blasted lanterns, anyway? Ah, there was nothing for it—now he really would have to find a job as soon as possible. Shinzaburō gingerly pulled himself up from the floor, where a pool of light filtering through the curtain gently flickered.