After three days one would have thought the jet lag had worn off. However, they remained once again inert on top of the mattress, unable to muster the effort to shake the covers off. It was a dry yet warm August day, and Fumiko's eyes blinked rhythmically in order to ward off the sleep. Her bed was a circular mattress with lavender colors and they were covered in a velvety purple blanket.
"Baby, we eat now?" she asked in her gentle tone to the figure lying prone to her right. The shock of jet black hair moved and Fumiko once again viewed the delicate dark features of Sonya, pencil thin eyebrows, a small nose, lips curved upward in a sleepy smirk, and those pools of dark irises. The two ladies finally rose and Fumiko walked over to the window to open the blinds, oblivious to the fact that she was standing stark naked, her thin wiry frame clearly visible against the now well-lit beige walls.
She and Sonya pulled on their underwear and bras and threw on kimonos. They walked down the hallway of the Shinjiros' one-level house, one following after the other, and entered the kitchen. There stood Fumiko's mother, Ai, a shorter woman in her mid-fifties with short hair in a ponytail wearing a button down shirt and suit pants. The older woman was standing over a pan making a fish fry for breakfast.
Fumiko and Sonya had decided to use their spring break period to visit Okinawa Island. Already firmly cemented together in Oklahoma, they were now eagerly exploring the full aspects of eachother's dimensions. Fumiko had been queasy on the plane thinking about the type of reception she would receive from her family. But those doubts had been dispelled upon Sonya's charming first encounter with her parents. Although her father had by now become mostly indifferent to Fumiko's whims, Ai gladly took to her daughter's companion, amused at how unfamiliar yet curious she was toward Japanese etiquette. She quipped once on the first day that it was like raising a whole new daughter.
"What are you thinking of doing today?" Ai asked her daughter.
"I think that Sonya isn't adjusted yet to our complete way of life. We might go to the base district and try to enjoy some of their entertainment." Fumiko was referring to the area of town closest to where Americans were stationed, a recreational district full of soldiers and the Okinawans and Japanese who catered to their off-duty needs.
Ai glanced up. "You want to go there? That seems a bit rowdy. She isn't at all curious about the north beach?"
Fumiko frowned. Her mother, like many locals, was wary of the excesses of the off-duty Americans, who were known to get hammered in town. Also, even daylight hours weren't always safer, as servicemen tended to receive round the clock hours for their days of leave. Military cops commonly walked the beat there so as to mop up any sailor, airman, or soldier who was making a fool out of himself and wearing out the welcome among the locals. Nevertheless, every year or so there would be some scandal wherein a service person was arrested by Japanese police for some indiscretion.
"No, mother, I think we'll be all right. Besides, we're only going to the Kempei Lounge," she said reassuringly. This particular bar was less risky than others, because it was favored by higher-end civilian clients as well as commissioned officers and career servicemen. After breakfast, Fumiko and Sonya gathered a backpack that included mp3 players and some magazines they'd both picked for the ride over.
The bus, as usual in this country, arrived at the exact time listed, 11:20 AM, and the girls ascended stairs and sat with their backs to the front. Along the way Fumiko mentioned to Sonya whenever they passed a place of interest. The places they passed included a public park, a luxury hotel, and eventually an industrial district, but finally they alighted in a district with flashing digital signs advertising many tourist products.
Fumiko and Sonya walked hand in hand over to a rather unfurnished building with an extinguished sign that showed a martini glass with an olive placed in a V shape adjacent to a highball glass. In script letters the caption "Kempei Lounge" appeared under the image.
Upon entering they were greeted by a rather subdued scene, although even at this daylight hour the bar was rather well packed with patrons. At one pool table played two airmen dressed in work overalls, probably members of a ground crew, and six of their buddies observed.
Other tables were occupied by diverse groups of Japanese and American personnel. One table even had a group of full-blown Japanese motorcycle punks, "bosozoku" as they are known, whose wheels were parked outside and displayed rising sun flags on their tails.
The booths in the bar were elevated blue velour lounge seats. In an isolated booth sat a black woman, probably also American, in a blue blazer with skirt to match. Sonya's glance lingered on this lone customer. Her presence seemed completely out of place, yet she could have been waiting for someone. Nevertheless, although she had caught Sonya's eye, she could have been a regular based on the lack of interest from other patrons. Fumiko led Sonya by hand away from that end of the bar once she recognized a couple of familiar faces of people she'd contacted.
The two who greeted them were a couple, Yoshiro, an islander, and Keiko, the daughter of mainlanders. Fumiko explained to Sonya that they'd grown up and spent many days on the sunny beaches together.
"Oh, so y'all are a bunch of beach bums, huh?" commented Sonya.
Fumiko widened her eyes at the unfamiliar expression, and Sonya had to explain to her what it meant, which also was repeated to Keiko and Yoshiro.
The three Japanese spoke in excited tones for a while, reviewing old times and catching up on lost ones. Sonya found herself growing bored and feeling left out. It was naturally refreshing to be able to order alcohol in a bar, whereas in Oklahoma she would've had to wait another fifteen months. Even though she felt it would appear pretentious, she amused herself by asking the cocktail waitress to bring her certain mixed drinks she'd heard about but never had a chance to try, such as a Pimm's Cup.
The alcohol helped her space out and ignore the incessant Japanese chatter going on around her. At one point however, she began to notice that the bosozoku gang had moved a few tables over and was now playing pool at a much nearer table, while others were amuzing themselves on a pachinko machine.
