Entry tags:
Ge-ge-ge no nyobou 6/18
a.k.a. cold winds sometimes bring colds
Fumie was washing daikon, the large long white radish that is popular in Japan. She rubbed the daikon with a rough scrubber in cold water, then tied the leaves together and hung pairs of daikon on the bamboo poles that she used for washing. Shigeru came out of the house as she sneezed. "Are you all right? Maybe you shouldn't hang daikon when it's cold like this." Fumie rubbed her nose, and said, "No, I'm fine. They say that a cold wind makes daikon sweet, so this is good for the daikon."
Later, Shigeru and Inui walked around the corner of a house, looking at the card that Uraki gave to Shigeru. Shigeru said, "This should be the place..." They both looked at the house, with boarded windows and weeds. Then they looked at each other. "This can't be the right place." They walked around the corner, looking at the card.
Minutes later, they came around the corner again. Shigeru said, "I guess this really is the place." He called out, but there was no answer. He tried the door. It was unlocked.
Shigeru and Inui walked through a dark hallway inside the house. Shigeru stepped up to a half open door, and pushed it. "Excuse me?"
A figure sat inside, bent over a worktable. The figure had a bush of hair, down to its shoulders. It wore a grey shirt. Without turning, it said in a male voice, "Come in, come in. I used to do rental manga, too."
Shigeru stepped inside. Inui followed him, holding his nose at the smell. The figure turned around. His hair was a veiled bush. He said, "I thought about how to make money." His hand rose, and tapped his head through the bushy hair. "Look, a book of manga has strip after strip of manga, splitting the money to each author." He held a draft book of manga. He swept the surface of the small table in the middle of the room clear with a crash. He flipeed the book open on the table. Dust puffed around Shigeru and Inui, who choked. The man reached up and grabbed a handful of newspapers clipped on a wire overhead. "But see, here's one strip, in this paper, and this paper, and this paper." He spread the newspapers out, pointing to a single strip repeated in each paper. "Now, that means one author gets paid many times for one strip. That's how you make money! And making money is what's important, right?"
He looked up at them through his hair. Then he jumped to his feet. His shirt was a ragged robe, and his bare legs stuck out below it. "Should I make tea?"
Inui coughed. "No, no, I think I'm done." Shigeru said, with a half-smile, "That's a very interesting idea, but I think we'll have to consider it."
The figure raised his hand and pulled the hair back. "If you keep doing rental manga, you're going to end up here." He smiled. Shigeru saw the face of the ghost of poverty flickering over the figure's face.
As they walked out, Shigeru muttered, "I should have known the ghost of poverty was here." Inui said, "What?" Shigeru shook his head. "Nothing." Inui said, "Two poor men visiting a third poor man... Uraki was wrong, anything that feels that bad is not the way to make money." Shigeru nodded. "Let's just go."
As they walked down the street, Inui said, "You know, I was thinking. What if we kept the inside the same, but gave it a pretty cover to attract readers? You know, with women fainting and a strong man?" Shigeru took two steps, then smiled. "Like putting a nice picture on a can? Yeah, we could try that. Uh... has anything sold?" Inui shook his head. "Not yet. But in a week, I think I can pay you something."
Just then, a cold breeze blew around the two men. Shigeru squinted into it, and said, "I wonder if a cold wind will make the manga sweet?"
A week later, Shigeru was drawing in the workroom. Fumie looked in. "I can go over to Inui and ask about the money, if you like?" Shigeru looked up. "That would be good. I can keep working on this, then." Fumie glanced at the sheet laying on her table. It was a cover, with two big-eyed women and a man. "That's pretty. Who did it?" Shigeru grinned. "I did. It's for the new book for Inui. A historical manga." (Jidai -- old Japan, samurai) Fumie smiled back. "Well, it just shows that you can draw anything, doesn't it?" He laughed. He didn't show her the interior pages, with the monstrous figures there.
At Inui's house, Aiko slept while Fumie sat nearby. Inui's wife tapped at a typewriter, and her daughter threw rope hoops at a pole on a stand. Inui's wife said, "I'm sorry, he's late. But he should be here soon." Fumie asked, "What are you doing?" Inui's wife said, "Oh, just typing manga dialogue. It's cheaper if I do it. And as long as all my husband knows how to do is make manga that don't sell..." She looked up. "Not Shigeru's manga, especially. Nothing Inui is doing is selling well. I don't know why."
Fumie sneezed. Inui's wife said, "Oh, I hope you're not cold. We usually don't turn the heater on until evening, to save money." Fumie smiled, "Us, too." Inui's wife smiled at Fumie. "It is so hard without money. Inui works so hard, but...nothing seems to work." Then she lifted her chin. "But he loves manga so much. He's really determined to make manga." Fumie nodded. "Shigeru, too. I don't think there's anything else that would make him that happy."
Inui's wife chuckled. "You know, we've got a pair of strange men."
Later, as Fumie fastened her heavy kimono coat over Aiko, strapped to her back, she apologized. "I'm sorry, but I need to get home." She sneezed. Inui's wife said, "I hope you didn't catch cold. Look, when Inui gets here with the money, I'll bring it right over. I promise."
Fumie walked down the street, listing bills on her fingers. "Let's see, there's the mortgage. And the water. And the electric. And..." She got her purse out and looked into it. "Maybe I better not spend the money on a train ride. I'll just walk home."
At home, Fumie stopped to look at the daikon hanging outside. She squeezed one, and said, "That feels good."
She went inside. Shigeru looked up from his drawing. "Did you get the money?" Fumie shook her head. "Not yet. Inui was still not there. But his wife promised to bring it over as soon as he got home." Shigeru started to turn back to his work.
A thud behind him made Shigeru turn. Then he jumped to his feet, and rushed over. Fumie was on her knees beside the table. "What's wrong?" Fumie mumbled, "My stomach... I don't feel too good." He put the back of his hand on her forehead for a moment. "You've got a fever!" Fumie put her head down on her hands on the table.
<to be continued>
Fumie was washing daikon, the large long white radish that is popular in Japan. She rubbed the daikon with a rough scrubber in cold water, then tied the leaves together and hung pairs of daikon on the bamboo poles that she used for washing. Shigeru came out of the house as she sneezed. "Are you all right? Maybe you shouldn't hang daikon when it's cold like this." Fumie rubbed her nose, and said, "No, I'm fine. They say that a cold wind makes daikon sweet, so this is good for the daikon."
Later, Shigeru and Inui walked around the corner of a house, looking at the card that Uraki gave to Shigeru. Shigeru said, "This should be the place..." They both looked at the house, with boarded windows and weeds. Then they looked at each other. "This can't be the right place." They walked around the corner, looking at the card.
Minutes later, they came around the corner again. Shigeru said, "I guess this really is the place." He called out, but there was no answer. He tried the door. It was unlocked.
Shigeru and Inui walked through a dark hallway inside the house. Shigeru stepped up to a half open door, and pushed it. "Excuse me?"
A figure sat inside, bent over a worktable. The figure had a bush of hair, down to its shoulders. It wore a grey shirt. Without turning, it said in a male voice, "Come in, come in. I used to do rental manga, too."
Shigeru stepped inside. Inui followed him, holding his nose at the smell. The figure turned around. His hair was a veiled bush. He said, "I thought about how to make money." His hand rose, and tapped his head through the bushy hair. "Look, a book of manga has strip after strip of manga, splitting the money to each author." He held a draft book of manga. He swept the surface of the small table in the middle of the room clear with a crash. He flipeed the book open on the table. Dust puffed around Shigeru and Inui, who choked. The man reached up and grabbed a handful of newspapers clipped on a wire overhead. "But see, here's one strip, in this paper, and this paper, and this paper." He spread the newspapers out, pointing to a single strip repeated in each paper. "Now, that means one author gets paid many times for one strip. That's how you make money! And making money is what's important, right?"
He looked up at them through his hair. Then he jumped to his feet. His shirt was a ragged robe, and his bare legs stuck out below it. "Should I make tea?"
Inui coughed. "No, no, I think I'm done." Shigeru said, with a half-smile, "That's a very interesting idea, but I think we'll have to consider it."
The figure raised his hand and pulled the hair back. "If you keep doing rental manga, you're going to end up here." He smiled. Shigeru saw the face of the ghost of poverty flickering over the figure's face.
As they walked out, Shigeru muttered, "I should have known the ghost of poverty was here." Inui said, "What?" Shigeru shook his head. "Nothing." Inui said, "Two poor men visiting a third poor man... Uraki was wrong, anything that feels that bad is not the way to make money." Shigeru nodded. "Let's just go."
As they walked down the street, Inui said, "You know, I was thinking. What if we kept the inside the same, but gave it a pretty cover to attract readers? You know, with women fainting and a strong man?" Shigeru took two steps, then smiled. "Like putting a nice picture on a can? Yeah, we could try that. Uh... has anything sold?" Inui shook his head. "Not yet. But in a week, I think I can pay you something."
Just then, a cold breeze blew around the two men. Shigeru squinted into it, and said, "I wonder if a cold wind will make the manga sweet?"
A week later, Shigeru was drawing in the workroom. Fumie looked in. "I can go over to Inui and ask about the money, if you like?" Shigeru looked up. "That would be good. I can keep working on this, then." Fumie glanced at the sheet laying on her table. It was a cover, with two big-eyed women and a man. "That's pretty. Who did it?" Shigeru grinned. "I did. It's for the new book for Inui. A historical manga." (Jidai -- old Japan, samurai) Fumie smiled back. "Well, it just shows that you can draw anything, doesn't it?" He laughed. He didn't show her the interior pages, with the monstrous figures there.
At Inui's house, Aiko slept while Fumie sat nearby. Inui's wife tapped at a typewriter, and her daughter threw rope hoops at a pole on a stand. Inui's wife said, "I'm sorry, he's late. But he should be here soon." Fumie asked, "What are you doing?" Inui's wife said, "Oh, just typing manga dialogue. It's cheaper if I do it. And as long as all my husband knows how to do is make manga that don't sell..." She looked up. "Not Shigeru's manga, especially. Nothing Inui is doing is selling well. I don't know why."
Fumie sneezed. Inui's wife said, "Oh, I hope you're not cold. We usually don't turn the heater on until evening, to save money." Fumie smiled, "Us, too." Inui's wife smiled at Fumie. "It is so hard without money. Inui works so hard, but...nothing seems to work." Then she lifted her chin. "But he loves manga so much. He's really determined to make manga." Fumie nodded. "Shigeru, too. I don't think there's anything else that would make him that happy."
Inui's wife chuckled. "You know, we've got a pair of strange men."
Later, as Fumie fastened her heavy kimono coat over Aiko, strapped to her back, she apologized. "I'm sorry, but I need to get home." She sneezed. Inui's wife said, "I hope you didn't catch cold. Look, when Inui gets here with the money, I'll bring it right over. I promise."
Fumie walked down the street, listing bills on her fingers. "Let's see, there's the mortgage. And the water. And the electric. And..." She got her purse out and looked into it. "Maybe I better not spend the money on a train ride. I'll just walk home."
At home, Fumie stopped to look at the daikon hanging outside. She squeezed one, and said, "That feels good."
She went inside. Shigeru looked up from his drawing. "Did you get the money?" Fumie shook her head. "Not yet. Inui was still not there. But his wife promised to bring it over as soon as he got home." Shigeru started to turn back to his work.
A thud behind him made Shigeru turn. Then he jumped to his feet, and rushed over. Fumie was on her knees beside the table. "What's wrong?" Fumie mumbled, "My stomach... I don't feel too good." He put the back of his hand on her forehead for a moment. "You've got a fever!" Fumie put her head down on her hands on the table.
<to be continued>