Convenience Store Woman Page 3

  Yukari had been away with her husband on a job placement, so it was the first time we’d seen her for quite some while. We all laughed as she kept looking around, saying how much she’d missed us as we nibbled at the cakes from the station mall.

  “There’s really nowhere like home. The last time we met was just after I got married, wasn’t it, Keiko?”

  “Yes! It was at that celebration barbecue, wasn’t it? There were lots of us there that time. Oh, what fun that was!” I said excitedly, mixing Mrs. Izumi and Sugawara’s speech patterns.

  “You’ve changed somehow.” She stared at me. “Didn’t you use to speak more normally? Maybe it’s just your hairstyle, but somehow there’s a different air about you.”

  “You think?” Miho asked, tilting her head questioningly. “I don’t feel she’s changed at all, although it could just be because we meet so often.”

  But Yukari was right I thought. After all, I absorb the world around me, and that’s changing all the time. Just as all the water that was in my body last time we met has now been replaced with new water, the things that make up me have changed too. When we last met a few years ago, most of the store workers were laid-back university students, so of course my way of speaking was different then.

  “I guess. Yes, I have probably changed,” I said with a smile, not elaborating.

  “Come to think of it, your fashion sense has changed too. I’m sure you never used to dress so flashily,” Satsuki said.

  “Oh! Yes, maybe you’re right,” Miho agreed. “That skirt is from a boutique in Omotesando, isn’t it? I tried on the same one in a different color. It’s really cute!”

  “Isn’t it? Lately all the clothes I wear come from that place.”

  It was the me with different clothes and speech rhythms that was smiling. Who was it that my friends were talking to? Yet Yukari was still smiling at me, repeating again how much she’d missed me.

  Miho and Satsuki wear exactly the same expression and speak the same way, perhaps because they live close to each other and often meet up. The way they eat cookies is especially similar, both breaking off tiny pieces and putting them in their mouths with hands that have perfectly manicured nails. I couldn’t help wondering whether they had always been like that, but my memory was hazy. The little habits and gestures they had last time I met them must have already been flushed out of my mind I thought to myself.

  “Next time let’s get more of us together. Especially now that Yukari’s back home. Like Shiho, for one.”

  “Mm, yes. Great idea. Let’s do that!”

  At Miho’s suggestion, we all leaned forward.

  “Everyone should bring their husbands and kids too. Let’s do another barbecue!”

  “Yay! That’s a fab idea. It’d be great if all our kids can make friends with each other.”

  “Yeah, good thinking!”

  Satsuki sounded a bit envious, so Yukari prompted her. “You are planning on having kids, aren’t you, Satsuki?”

  “Sure, I want them. I’ve been relying on nature to take its course, but I suppose I should start being a bit more proactive about conceiving.”

  “Oh yes,” Miho said. “The timing is perfect now.”

  I noticed Satsuki gazing at Miho’s sleeping baby and got the impression that both of their wombs were resonating in sync.

  Yukari had been nodding during their exchange, but now she abruptly directed her gaze to me. “Keiko, aren’t you married yet?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Really? But … you’re not still stuck in the same job, are you?”

  I thought a moment. I knew it was considered weird for someone of my age to not have either a proper job or be married because my sister had explained it to me. Even so, I balked at being evasive in front of Miho and the others, who knew the truth.

  “Yep, I’m afraid so.”

  Yukari looked flustered by my answer and so I hastily added, “I’m not very strong, so I’m better off in a casual job.”

  I’ve made it known among old friends that I have certain health issues that make it more convenient for me to have a part-time job. At my workplace, I tell them it’s because my parents are ill and I need to care for them. I have my sister to thank for thinking up these excuses for me.

  When I was in my early twenties it wasn’t unusual to be a freeter, so I didn’t really need to make excuses. But subsequently everyone started hooking up with society, either through employment or marriage, and I was the only one who hadn’t done either.

  While I always say it’s because I’m frail, deep down everyone must be thinking that if that’s so, why would I choose to do a job in which I’m on my feet for long periods every day?

  “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question? Have you ever been in love, Keiko?” Satsuki asked teasingly.

  “In love?”

  “Like, have you ever dated anyone? Come to think of it, I’ve never heard you talk about that sort of thing.”

  “Oh I see. No, I haven’t,” I answered automatically.

  Everyone fell quiet and exchanged uncomfortable glances with each other. Too late I remembered that my sister had told me in such cases I should give a vague answer like: “Well, there was someone I liked but I’m not a good judge of men.” This would give the impression that I’d at least had a lover or something that might have involved some kind of physical relationship, even if I’d never had an actual boyfriend. “You can just give a vague answer to a personal question, and they’ll come to their own conclusions,” she’d told me. Well, I messed that one up, I thought to myself.

  “You know, I’ve got quite a few gay friends,” Miho intervened, “So I kind of get it. These days you can also be asexual or whatever you like.”

  “Oh yes, I heard that’s on the increase. Like there are young people who just aren’t interested in it at all.”

  “I saw a program on TV about that. It’s apparently really hard for them to come out too.”

  I’d never experienced sex, and I’d never even had any particular awareness of my own sexuality. I was indifferent to the whole thing and had never really given it any thought. And here was everyone taking it for granted that I must be miserable when I wasn’t. Even if I had been, though, it didn’t follow that my anguish would be the obvious type of anguish they were all talking about. But they didn’t want to think it through that far. I had the feeling I was being told they wanted to settle the matter this way because that was the easiest option for them.

  It was the same as when I’d hit that boy with a shovel at school. All the adults had jumped to the unfounded conclusion that I must be an abused child and blamed my family. That way they could understand why I’d done such a terrible thing and therefore have peace of mind. So they’d all pressed me to admit my family situation was to blame for what I’d done.

  What a pain I thought, wondering why everyone felt such a need for reassurance. But out loud I just parroted the excuse my sister had told me to use whenever I was in a fix: “No, no. It’s just because I’m not strong. That’s all!”

  “Oh yes, it’s true, you’ve got a chronic condition, haven’t you? It must be really tough on you.”

  “You’ve been like that for ages now. Are you okay?”

  I wished I was back in the convenience store where I was valued as a working member of staff and things weren’t as complicated as this. Once we donned our uniforms, we were all equals regardless of gender, age, or nationality—all simply store workers.

  I looked at the clock—3:00 p.m.—so they’d have finished settling the cash register account and changing money at the bank and would be starting to put the latest truckload of bread and lunch boxes out on display.

  Even when I’m far away, the convenience store and I are connected. In my mind’s eye I picture the brightly lit and bustling store, and I silently stroke my right hand, its nails neatly trimmed in order to better work the buttons on the cash register.

  * * *

  Whenever I wake up early,
I make a point of getting off the train one station before my stop and walking the rest of the way to the store. As I walk, the surrounding apartments and restaurants gradually give way to office blocks.

  The sensation that the world is slowly dying feels good. The view is unchanged since that day I first happened on the store. Early in the morning there are no living creatures in sight other than the occasional suit-clad salaryman rushing past.

  There are only offices here, but still some of the customers who come into the convenience store look like ordinary residents, and I always wonder where on earth they live. I absently imagine them asleep somewhere within this cast-off-cicada-shell world.

  When night falls, the brightly lit office windows transform the area into a geometrically aligned landscape. Unlike the lively area in which my cheap apartment is located, the light is cold and lifeless, all one uniform color.

  For a convenience store worker, walking through the area around the store is a way to glean valuable information. If a nearby restaurant starts selling lunch boxes it will impact our sales, and road works starting up will mean more customers. It was really tough when a rival closed down four years after our store opened and we were inundated with their customers. We all had to work overtime since the lunchtime peak had gone on and on, and when we ran out of lunch boxes the manager was reprimanded by head office for not doing enough research. That’s when I decided to walk around the area keeping my eye on things to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

  Today there wasn’t any major change, other than it looked like a new building was nearing completion, which would probably mean more customers when it opened. I made a mental note of this, then made my way to the store. There I bought a sandwich and some tea and went into the back room to find the store manager, who had been on the night shift again, his sweaty body huddled over the store computer inputting figures.

  “Good morning!”

  “Oh, morning Miss Furukura. Early again today, I see!”

  The store manager is thirty years old and always businesslike. He’s manager #8. He has a sharp tongue but works hard.

  Manager #2 was always slacking off, while #4 was dependable and liked cleaning, and #6, who was rather eccentric and generally disliked, had caused a scandal when the entire night shift walked out on him en masse. Manager #8 is comparatively popular with part-timers and is the type who engages in physical tasks, so I like watching him at work. Manager #7 was a wimp and wasn’t strict enough with the night shift, so the store ended up a mess. While #8 might be a bit brusque, I thought looking at him, in this respect he was easier to work with.

  For eighteen years, there has always been a manager, even if his appearance keeps changing. Although each is different, taken all together I sometimes have the feeling they are but one single creature.

  Manager #8 has a loud voice, and it booms around the back room.

  “Oh, today you’ll be on with that new guy, Shiraha,” he told me. “He did his training at night, so it’ll be his first time on the day shift. Look after him, will you?”

  “Yes, I will!” I answered energetically, and the manager nodded several times as he continued to input figures without pause.

  “You know, Miss Furukura, I can always rest easy when you’re here. Iwaki has gone for good now, so it’ll just be you, Mrs. Izumi, Sugawara, and now Shiraha on the frontline day shift. It looks like I’m going to have to stay on the night shift for the time being, so I’m relying on you.”

  The manager has a way of drawing out the ends of his words just like Mrs. Izumi does, although their tones of voice are completely different. He came after Mrs. Izumi, so it was probably she who infected him, while she in turn probably absorbed his way of talking and ended up lengthening her drawl.

  Thinking about this I nodded and, imitating Sugawara’s speech, said, “Sure, no problem! The sooner we get someone new the better!”

  “Yeah, I’ve put up help wanted ads, and I’ve also asked the guys on the night shift if they have any friends looking for a job. Your being able to come in five days a week on the day shift is a big help, Miss Furukura.”

  In a short-staffed convenience store, a store worker can sometimes be highly appreciated just by existing, by virtue of not rocking the boat. I’m not particularly brilliant compared to Mrs. Izumi and Sugawara, but I’m second to none in terms of never being late or taking days off. I just come in every day without fail, and because of that I’m accepted as a well-functioning part of the store.

  Just then a thin voice came from the other side of the door.

  “Um …”

  “Oh, Shiraha, it’s you. Come in, come in!” the manager said. “Didn’t I tell you to arrive thirty minutes early? You’re late!”

  The door opened quietly, and a tall man, almost six feet and lanky like a wire coat hanger, came in, his head drooping.

  He looked as though he were made of wire, and his glasses were like silver twined around his face. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers as dictated by the store rules, but he was too skinny and the shirt didn’t fit him, so that while his wrists were exposed, the fabric was unnaturally puckered around his stomach.

  I covered my shock at his skin-and-bone appearance by quickly lowering my head in greeting.

  “Pleased to meet you! I’m Furukura, from the day shift. Looking forward to working with you!”

  The way I said this was probably close to the store manager’s speech. Shiraha flinched at my loud voice and answered noncommittally: “Um, ah …”

  “Come on, Shiraha! Where are your manners?” the manager admonished him. “It’s essential to get off to a good start, so make your greetings properly.”

  “Um, ah … good morning,” Shiraha mumbled, barely audible.

  “As from today you’ve finished your training and are now a fully fledged member of the day shift, you know. You’ve been taught how to work the cash register and do the cleaning and how to make basic counter foods, but there’s still a lot to learn. This is Miss Furukura, who’s been working here ever since the store opened, can you believe? Ask her if there’s anything you need to know.”

  “Um, ah …”

  “She’s been here eighteen years, you know. Eighteen years! I bet that surprised you, didn’t it, Shiraha? You have to look up to her, you know.”

  “What?” Shiraha said, a dubious expression on his face. His sunken eyes seemed to retreat even farther into his head.

  I was just wondering how I could dispel the awkward atmosphere when the door flew open and Sugawara appeared.

  “Mornin’ all!” she called out cheerfully as she came in, a bass guitar case slung across her back. Noticing Shiraha, she added, “Oh, a newcomer! Nice to meet you. So glad you’re here.”

  It seemed to me that Sugawara’s voice had gotten even louder since manager #8 took over. I was just thinking how that was a bit creepy when I noticed that Sugawara and Shiraha were ready to start.

  “Well then, I’ll lead the morning session today, shall I?” the manager said. “First, today’s particulars. Shiraha here has completed his training and will be working nine to five starting today. Make sure your voice is loud enough when you greet customers, won’t you, Shiraha? Anything you don’t know you can ask from these two here. They’re both veterans. And if possible, take over the till during the lunchtime rush, will you?”

  “Oh, er, okay,” Shiraha nodded.

  “Next, frankfurters are on promotion today, so make sure you prepare enough of them. We’re aiming to sell a hundred! Last time we sold eighty-three, so we can do it. We really can! Keep them coming, all right? I’m depending on you, Miss Furukura.”

  “Hai!” I answered brightly at the top of my lungs.

  “The weather is important to the store too, you know. It’s warmed up quite a lot, so cold things will sell well today. Be sure to check the drink stocks in the refrigerators and restock them when necessary. Also, the shout-out to customers today is the frankfurters promotion and the new mango
custard dessert.”

  “Okay!” Sugawara responded at once.

  “Well, those are the main points for today. Now let’s go over our pledge and the six most important phrases for dealing with customers. Repeat after me!”

  Following the manager’s cue, we repeated the phrases at the top of our lungs.

  “We pledge to provide our customers with the best service and to aim to make our store the beloved store of choice in the area.”

  “We pledge to provide our customers with the best service and to aim to make our store the beloved store of choice in the area.”

  “Irasshaimasé!”

  “Irasshaimasé!”

  “Yes, madam. Right away, madam.”

  “Yes, madam. Right away, madam.”

  “Thank you very much!”

  “Thank you very much!”

  The three of us raised our voices in unison following the prompts. I was just thinking how much brisker the morning session was when the manager led it, when Shiraha muttered under his breath: “Ugh, it’s just like a religion!”

  Of course it is, I thought.

  From now on, we existed only in the service of the convenience store. It appeared Shiraha had not yet come to terms with this, for he only moved his mouth mechanically, hardly making his voice audible.

  “That’s the end of the morning session. Let’s all do our best again today!”

  “We will!” Sugawara and I responded.

  “Well then, if there’s anything you don’t understand, don’t hesitate to ask,” I said to Shiraha. “I’m depending on you!”

  Shiraha snickered. “Huh. Anything I don’t understand? About a part-time job in a convenience store?”

  He gave a loud snort of laughter, and I watched as a bubble of snot formed in his nostril. So there’s enough moisture behind Shiraha’s papery dry skin for mucus to form, I thought, distracted by the sight of it bursting.