For K, with appreciation.
Driver 7
Outside the Café, I kissed her deeply and put her in a taxi, with an invitation to meet here again for the night. It was a little after noon, and she was free to return to her life. I did not know if she would come back tonight, I had not instructed her to come, just invited her.
Tuesday afternoon was a magic time for me, with a full night without work ahead of me and a head full of ideas to work through. In some ways I was hoping she would not return, so I could think more calmly. I was feeling a bit jaded with the bizarre life I was leading, she was bringing up feelings that I had buried.
When she was with me I was distracted by her. The temptation to take what she offered and indulge myself was usually strongly upon me. What I had learned was of great interest, but I needed to sift through it to find the gaps, what she had not told me.
There was no way of knowing if bringing her to the House would create an issue with the management. Sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness afterward rather than permission beforehand. Wednesday's words about Colette had other applications, too.
I climbed the stone steps, noticing the tool marks that roughened the granite. Were they from slave workers during the war? This would have been a tough job, forced to work in the heat and dust from dawn til dusk on near starvation rations. Allowed a few hours exhausted sleep on a stone floor before it began again.
Was there much real difference between the Japanese guards then and my position now? Was I forcing anyone against their will? Was a whip much different if it was applied to a willing back?
Thinking of the slave workers made me run my mind through the storage room. I might have to get to that soon, as the opportunity to ferret through the dusty relics was tempting. History was my interest, whetted by a youth spent reading war stories, so the chance to see the original evidence from whichever decade, either wartime or later was powerful.
The day was hot and I was glad to plunge into the cool pool water. Ten lengths later I pulled myself out and dried in the sun on the terracotta tiles. They were nearly too hot to lie on comfortably, but I stood it, then rolled over to dry my front in the direct sun.
I gathered some flowers from the borders as I went back to the garage and climbed to my door. Once they were in vases their rich smells mixed and spread through the tiny flat. I tidied away the books and papers that scattered my table and spare chairs. The kitchen took me about twenty minutes to square away, then I changed the bedding and took my washing down to the machine at the back of the garage. It was good to have a reason to make the place look good. I was pleased to be busy, keeping the body moving allowed the mind to work in peace.
I hung the washing to dry in the slight breeze and spent an hour on the weights. Fred came in as I was finishing and reached for the 20kg discs. I stayed to speak with him, to get some perspective on the movie prospect and the woman he shared a house with. He was not very forthcoming to my questions, so I suggested we go for a beer by the Shelter later.
My curiosity took me down to the lower floor where I looked into the storage room. The electric lights were a very old style, yet worked well to cast a yellow glow. Clearly it would take a much longer time than I had now, to deal with it properly. I began to move the remaining boxes- cardboard gave way to older wood- some very heavy. I put them near the door for transfer to the garage tomorrow. These boxes were older, with mostly English and old vertical-form Chinese writing on them.
As I neared the far wall of the store, I found a small stack of five boxes with the rising sun flag stamped on each. They were of various sizes, from shoebox to washing machine-sized. The wood was stained with age and some were very heavy. Beyond was the raw stone of the wall. I managed to move the smaller ones to the middle of the room, but to go further needed serious muscle- maybe all the men of the House together (mostly Fred).
My shoulders were sore, I was sneezing from dust and about to go and see if Fred was ready for beer yet, when I looked behind the biggest box. There was an opening in the wall, cut roughly into the stone.
I had to follow this. I went to the garage to find a crowbar and used it to lever the big box away from the opening. This was old stuff-unmoved for a long time. There were mummified rats in the space behind the box. Eventually I was able to force the box clear of the wall- hard work on that coarse floor.
