Alien Rice; A Novel. (10 page)

"Besides, once the article is out everyone reads it, but nobody pays any attention to denials and refutation."

Saburo suspected that, in fact, the rival English-conversation school in Tokyo had instigated the
Weekly Mirror
to write about Alice, but he did not feel like telling her about it that evening.

Saburo was nervously waiting in the lounge of the Grand Hotel for Mr. MacDonald. The day before Saburo had gone to Haneda Airport to meet MacDonald, who was to arrive from Toronto by Canadian Pacific Airlines.

MacDonald was a representative of the orange importers' association of Canada. At the airport Saburo was forestalled by about half a dozen young men from the rival Tokyo Trading Company, one of whom was an aggressive man called Tamaki, a section chief, and incidentally Saburo's counterpart in Tokyo Trading.

Tamaki's tactic was to have one of his men penetrate into the airport landing area, disguised as an airline official. That afternoon, too, Tokyo Trading people had gotten hold of MacDonald well before he emerged from the "arrival" exit, where Saburo Tanaka, Tozai's section chief, had been patiently waiting.

When Saburo approached MacDonald with a visiting card in hand, the Canadian trader, a tall and commanding figure with a thick moustache, had already been surrounded by several Tokyo Trading boys.

"Welcome to Japan! I'm from the Tozai Trading Company. We are entirely at your disposal," Saburo managed to say to MacDonald, avoiding the hostile and angry stares of his rivals.

"That's very kind of you, but arrangements for my stay in Japan have already been made by Tokyo Trading. "

Saburo was rebuffed but persisted.

"Tozai Trading also would like to have the pleasure of welcoming you and discussing business matters! "

"If that is the case, you could come and see me at the hotel tomorrow afternoon sometime," MacDonald suggested.

So now Saburo was waiting in the main lounge. He had been told by a hotel reception clerk that MacDonald was out. Obviously MacDonald had forgotten about Saburo's coming. At any rate it was not a firm appointment. Either MacDonald had completely forgotten what he had said at the airport, Saburo speculated, or perhaps it was an excuse to drive Tozai's representative away politely.

After an hour's agonizing waiting, however, Mac-Donald did come back to the hotel, but he was surrounded by several smiling Japanese men who no doubt were Tokyo Trading people. The face of one Japanese was flushed, evidently as a result of intake of alcohol, and Saburo concluded that they had just been to a luncheon party with MacDonald. It was obvious, to Saburo as well as to anyone, that the Canadian trader was now completely in the hands of Tokyo Trading. Saburo felt a great chagrin and serious mental agony.

"Could you get hold of Mr. MacDonald yesterday, Tanaka?" Director Sasaki inquired the moment Saburo stepped into the director's office to make a report.

"Sir, I did see MacDonald yesterday at the airport and told him of our interest in the matter."

"And what was his reaction?"

"Well, he said he would consider our offer very seriously."

"And what are the arrangements for a geisha dinner party I want to throw for MacDonald?"

Saburo hesitated for a moment.

"He said he was feeling very tired after the journey and wanted to rest completely for a couple of days in the hotel." Saburo had to tell a lie.

"Why didn't you, then, offer to take him to a resort hotel in Hakone? Where is MacDonald staying?"

"The Grand Hotel, Sir."

"We are paying the bill, I presume."

Saburo was at a loss for a reply.

A week later, when it was known that Tokyo Trading had succeeded in securing a contract to export 5, 000 tons of mandarin oranges to Canada for the coming Christmas season, Sasaki, the departmental chief, was in a rage.

"What are you doing? Were you sleeping or something?"

"I did my best but had no luck," Saburo replied sadly.

"I hear your wife is a millionaire now. And you seem to be getting soft on your foreign wife's bounty."

"No, Sir," Saburo protested.

"If you couldn't do it yourself why didn't you ask your wife to win over MacDonald to our side? He was of the same kind as your wife. Instead your wife busied herself making money.... "

Sasaki was becoming personal. Saburo knew that the director had been deliberately cool to him all along and that he preferred to have Togo, a Keio graduate, as the section chief rather than Tanaka.

In the meantime that scoop story in the
Weekly Mirror
was resounding throughout the country. Every day dozens of letters, both anonymous and signed, were pouring into the Tanaka household, letters of censure and condemnation. Some even demanded the immediate expulsion of Mrs. Alice Tanaka from Japan.

The Anglo-Japanese Institute was not doing as well as it used to, because of the
Weekly Mirror
exposure, and applications were falling. What with the fire in which Toshio was all but incinerated, and with the
Mirror
story, Alice was deeply depressed. All the Japanese around her now seemed filled with hatred toward her. She was feeling ill at ease and was thoroughly disgusted with Japan.

One afternoon Mr. Enami came to see Alice, bringing with him his eighteen-year-old daughter. She acted as an interpreter for her father most of the time.

"I'm truly sorry for that
Mirror
article, Mrs. Tanaka," Mr. Enami began.

"Surely it was none of your fault, I presume," Alice countered.

"My wife had always had a great admiration for you and if she were alive she would have resented that slanderous story and would have defended you more than anybody else," the aging man assured a relieved Alice.

"Thank you, Mr. Enami," she replied. "We were very good friends, your wife and I. I was very sad when Mrs. Enami passed away. You must miss her very much, Mr. Enami. She was such a fine woman." Miss Enami, sitting beside Alice, had tears in her eyes.

"Coming back to the
Mirror
story again, Mrs. Tanaka, I must tell you that it was Tsugami English College of Tokyo which was responsible. Even in the days when my wife ran the place Tsugami people tried every means of destroying our institute. At one time there was a rumor that a Tsugami agent was about to set fire to our place. You know, competition is keen in any business in Japan but Tsugami College people have no scruples; they are mean and despicable. That was one of the reasons why I sold the institute to you. We were so fed up.

"Since you took it over I have admired the way you ran the place but at the same time have been apprehensive lest you should one day get into trouble. Tsugami people, from the biggest English-language school in Tokyo, were resentful that you took so many pupils away from them. They were jealous and wanted vengeance.

"I was told on good authority that Tsugami College men invited some of the
Mirror
staff to a sumptuous dinner in Akasaka some time ago. Also, Mrs. Tsugami spent a great deal of her time in Karuizawa last summer and must have heard of your activities. I have therefore no doubt in my mind as to the background of the recent
Mirror
article.

"My wife, who went to a college in America as a girl, always said that Western people were fair-minded and free from such petty rivalries and cutthroat competition as we see in this country. You must also feel that way, Mrs. Tanaka.

"I hope you will not think ill of us because of what has happened, and please do not think too seriously of that silly stuff in the
Weekly Mirror."

"Thank you, Mr. Enami. You are very kind. I feel much better after listening to you," Alice said as the Enamis rose to take leave.

Saburo was still out most evenings at company banquets or working late at the office. But recently he had looked haggard and was in low spirits, or so he seemed to Alice. He had definitely lost weight since his London days. One of the rare evenings when Saburo came home early, Alice asked him, "Are you really enjoying your work in the office?"

"Well, working in the Head Office is terrible, every day so busy, receiving visitors, attending meetings, keeping my director and others informed of what we are doing."

"Is there any prospect of your being assigned to an overseas office again in the near future?"

"Not for some time, I don't think. At least not for another three years."

"Do you want to stay with Tozai for many more years?"

"I've no alternative but to continue."

"Is there any chance of your doing something else, like my Anglo-Japanese Institute, for example?" Alice inquired.

"I'm afraid I've no special talent, nor the necessary funds to start a new business."

Until that time it had never dawned on Saburo that he might do something else. He had been wedded to Tozai and his lifetime was mortgaged to the company. But now that Alice had mentioned it, and as a result of his recent fiasco in the mandarin-orange affair, Saburo began to think that the possibility of doing something on his own should not have been entirely ruled out.

He did not know, however, what he was going to do, or how or when. Nor did Alice have any means of knowing it.

CHAPTER
 10

Days multiplied into months and months into years, and Toshio was now six years old. Already a big baby when he was born, Toshio had grown to be a healthy, tall and handsome boy. He did not look like either Saburo or Alice. He was a fair-haired, blue-eyed lad—more European than Japanese-in fact, it was difficult to discern his Japanese extraction. He did have a Mongolian spot,
^*
though, when he was born, and his rather flat nose somewhat bespoke his half-Japanese parentage.

Toshio had gone to a nearby primary school since the year before. He got on well with his classmates and playmates, for he behaved no differently from other pupils, his physical characteristics notwithstanding. Besides, Toshio was considerate toward others, a quality he no doubt had inherited from his mother.

One afternoon, Toshio came home unexpectedly, much earlier than the usual time, sobbing violently, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Alice was perturbed and asked Toshio what was the matter. He had calmed down a bit in his mother's arms and started to relate what had happened.

While playing on the school grounds, one boy suddenly called Toshio an
ainoko
[half-breed] and jeered at him. Then another boy came round and said that Toshio's mother was a crook and that he was not a real Japanese but a
keto
.
^*
Thereupon Toshio in his anger seized the second boy and hit him hard. Then the rest of the boys-about ten in all-joined in the melee and everybody sneered at Toshio, saying that Toshio's mother was a thief. Against the overwhelming odds, forlorn Toshio was finally overpowered by the hostile gang.

Alice tried to comfort Toshio, but she herself was crying loudly.

"Toshio, don't you cry any more. Those kids are wicked and mischievous. Beginning tomorrow you don't have to go to that school."

"But which school am I going to, mother? Maybe boys in other schools will call me
ainoko
and bully me, too," Toshio said, sobbing.

Alice discussed the matter with her husband that night, and the next day went to St. Mary's School, an international missionary school on the Bluff, to apply for Toshio's entry in its primary section.

Since that day Alice had firmly made up her mind to leave Japan at an early opportunity, no matter what the cost.

In Tozai's Head Office a sweeping personnel change was announced, affecting some three hundred staff members. Tozai had not been doing well in recent months. The rival Tokyo Trading Company had at last surpassed Tozai in its volume of business transacted, as well as in the profit realized.

President Nozaki was thoroughly aroused and had said at a recent board meeting that the complacency of the staff and the lack of coordination among different sections and departments were responsible for the company's lamentable performance. Hence this unprecedented personnel change.

As expected, Saburo Tanaka was replaced by Togo, Director Sasaki's fellow alumnus and protege; Saburo was re-assigned to another section, the grain section, in the same foodstuff department. Director Sasaki was to continue in the same position.

Saburo now made up his mind to redouble his efforts to achieve better results in his new section, for he had been section chief for the last four years and unless he could do something outstanding, if not spectacular, his chances of climbing the next step of Tozai's ladder, to a position as director of a department, would be slim.

In the cutthroat competition which characterized the activities of trading firms in Japan, the most essential ingredient for success was aggressiveness. Poultry farming in Japan was booming at the time and the demand for imported chicken feeds was almost insatiable.

It so happened that Alice got to know the Japan representative of Andrew White, an internationally known grain broker. This representative was a man by the name of Robertson, an Australian. The Andrew White brokerage company had a spare stock of maize, 12,000 tons, in Chicago, which they were ready to sell at a discount. Saburo lost no time in signing a provisional contract, for if the information leaked out to other Japanese firms, there would have been a scramble and the price would have skyrocketed. Saburo was elated at this success, so soon after assuming the grain-section post, for the deal would bring the company a fat profit of nearly fifteen million yen.

So when Director Sasaki sent for Saburo one afternoon, Saburo was expecting a pleasant meeting with him. There was no reason whatsoever for the director of the foodstuff department to be displeased with the deal Saburo Tanaka had just consummated.

"Tanaka, it is about that 12,000 tons of maize. Why didn't you get my prior approval? Managing Director Sato, who is in charge of grain, is deeply disturbed about the procedural aspect of the deal. You are a mere section chief and you overstepped your power. I consider it a serious breach of discipline. The managing director himself is taking a serious view of the matter."

Saburo was astounded. What did it matter, so long as the company got a profitable business deal?

"Sir, it was a deal which had to be closed quickly and in utmost secrecy, since Tokyo Trading was beginning to sense that something was going on. Luckily I could get this deal because I knew Robertson, the Japan representative of Andrew White."

"I'm not asking you how you got this business," Director Sasaki persisted, still being difficult. "I'm questioning your overstepping my authority. You are not supposed to do any business by bypassing me, you understand?"

Anger was welling up in Saburo's mind. He almost wanted to slap Director Sasaki's face but restrained himself.

"If that is what you say, perhaps we should part company."

"You may sign a request for relief from your duties and I'll submit it to the board of directors for approval."

The next day Saburo wrote his request for resignation and mailed it to Director Sasaki. Saburo did not report to the office again, but stayed home.

It has been said that the Japanese worker's life resembles riding an escalator. All you need do is keep still and calmly wait until you reach the top floor. If a passenger tried to hurry up the steps or did something out of the ordinary he would cause much annoyance to his fellow passengers, and the smooth locomotion of the escalator would thereby be upset.

This was exactly what had happened to Saburo Tanaka on that fateful day in September, 1964.

But there was another aspect to the matter. Within
the organization lurked keen rivalry and mutual distrust, so that all its members fought among themselves, against everyone else. The struggle for a livelihood was so intense that the Japanese man had to elbow his way through a crowd, both physically and metaphorically, almost from the cradle to the tomb. Such was the fate of the Japanese man so long as he lived in that overcrowded country.

Saburo now realized that the only way to escape from such a tragic situation was to leave the country, while the going was still good, to go wherever he could use his knowledge and experience to good account.

Alice, since that
Weekly Mirror
affair, had been winding up her activities. She had been looking quietly for someone who could take over the institute. After Toshio was abused and beaten up by his schoolmates Alice started discreetly to look for buyers for her Karuizawa holdings.

Now that Saburo had finally decided to quit Tozai, Alice asked him what he wanted to do.

"I've been in the foodstuff field now for over fifteen years and perhaps that is an area in which I can do something, though I have nothing definite in my mind."

"Robertson thinks there will be a serious shortage of meat in the years to come all over the world. Everyone wants to eat beef but there are not enough people willing to raise cows, nor enough land for them. Robertson was stationed in Argentina before coming to Tokyo and he sees a great future for cattle farming over there. He says one can still get a thousand acres of good meadowland for about a hundred thousand dollars. Since you mentioned the line of business you would like to be in, I just remembered what Robertson told me," Alice said.

"But a hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. I shall only get about three million yen from the company as severance pay."

"I can help you, dear. That's why I've been working so hard since I came here. In my heart I've been dreading all along that something unexpected might happen to you or to me. Evidently in Japan the average man has no means of his own. Every man is living hand-to-mouth, because the government and corporations squander so much money.

"When you told me in Kyoto about your impression of a Japanese business firm and compared it to a
mikoshi
procession, or portable shrine march, I was very much interested. Now I'm glad that you are no longer one of those
mikoshi
bearers. I've saved up enough for our rainy days, and the rainy days have come."

"I personally think the cattle farming in South America is a wonderful idea. I should like to hear more about Argentina from Robertson. But are you ready to go to Argentina, of all countries, with me, Alice?" Saburo inquired.

"Now that I think of it," Alice replied, "many Scots have migrated to that country. One of my schoolmates back in Glasgow now lives in Buenos Aires. Her husband is manager of a meat-packing plant there. You know, Britain and Argentina have had very close relations for the last two centuries-economically, I mean. Bovril, that famous beef-essence maker, has plants there. From what Robertson tells me, Argentina seems to be a nice country. I also think that there is a great future for Toshio there."

Saburo went to the Tozai Head Office for the last time. As he entered his office to clear out his desk, everybody looked up at him. They all watched the outgoing section chief silently, but none of them came to speak to him. Apparently his former subordinates were no longer interested in Saburo but were already speculating as to who their next boss might be. Saburo realized how fickle and self-centered human beings are.

Suddenly Shigeru Goto, his close friend and colleague from London days, came in to see Saburo.

"It's a funny thing, how much junk you can accumulate in a few years," Saburo said as he threw papers and notes into a wastepaper basket.

"I know how you feel, Tanaka," Goto began. "We junior officers resent the measure the directors meted out to you. They tell us to increase our sales; yet our initiative is completely suppressed. This is a strange organization, our Tozai Trading."

"Goto, my conscience is clear. I've no regrets. I'm a free man at last, after almost twenty years," Saburo declared.

"Alice is a wonderful woman. I'm sure you both will be able to do something big and meaningful in the years to come. I rather envy you."

Goto had been the best man at Saburo's wedding. Saburo went in to see the chief of the personnel section at the appointed time.

"Tanaka, you have worked for the company with diligence and devotion and we appreciate it. I only regret that circumstances have forced you to sever your relationship with the company somewhat prematurely. Here is a check for three million yen. It is a small sum, I am afraid, but it is a token of our appreciation."

"Thank you, Sir." Saburo bowed deeply and left.

As he walked out of the Head Office for the last time, leaving behind the five thousand members of its staff, Saburo Tanaka had no pangs of regret. He felt he was a free man at last, completely free and independent. He could use his own judgment now, act according to his own convictions, take orders from no one. No more wining and dining at somebody else's expense, no more company golf tournaments, no more shuttling to and from the airport.

Memories suddenly came back thick and fast-memories of Tozai's London office, of dropping into Alice's office for occasional chats. Had it not been for Alice, he might still have been with the company.

At least he would never have known Robertson; but for his wife, the latest incident would never have occurred.

Yes, Saburo would have had to stay with the company had he not married Alice. Who else could have given him such moral encouragement to be free and independent, let alone the wherewithal to start his life anew?

Yes, it was fate, curious as it always seemed to be, Saburo reflected.

Saburo and Alice had called on Robertson several times since Saburo left the service of Tozai. Saburo was not sure what he could do in Argentina. He was therefore encouraged by Robertson's detailed accounts of cattle breeding there. Nature was bountiful in Argentina-equable climate, abundant rainfall, green, fertile pastures on which cattle grazed all the year round, plentiful native labor, plus the traditional European market for the export of meat.

At last Saburo saw a ray of hope in the darkness. Robertson knew several owners of big ranches and kindly offered to write to them to introduce the Tanakas and assist them if necessary.

Now that the Tanakas had definitely made up their minds to start a new life in South America they continued to wind up their personal affairs in Japan. They were busy running round every day, calling on friends and acquaintances, visiting government and diplomatic offices for visas and making other necessary travel arrangements.

Saburo realized how cumbersome human relations were in Japan. No important business could be transacted without an intermediary or introduction from somebody whom he knew. And it was necessary now to recall all these contacts and to express his appreciation suitably before he left the country. To Alice, most of these farewell calls seemed perfunctory and even unnecessary. Yet she had to accompany her husband on many such visits.