The Key to Midnight

he'll learn the error of his ways. The Japanese are infinitely patient.'
        Mariko inclined her head. 'Thank you for not saying "stubborn," Joanna-san.'
        'One more thing, Mariko-san… Is it true what Alex says about you and Wayne? That a certain attraction exists?'
        Mariko blushed fiercely. 'He's in the hospital. I've only sat at his bedside a few times to keep him company.'
        'And?'
        Lowering her eyes, Mariko said, 'He is an interesting man.'
        'But?'
        'These things don't happen, Joanna-san. You know how it is.'
        'Wayne is different, and there will be many people you love who will be unhappy with you. You don't want them to feel that you've dishonored them. Yes, I know how it is. But life is short. A chance for great happiness doesn't come along all that often.'
        Mariko said nothing.
        'When the bright-winged bird sees a fallen cherry on the ground beneath a tree,' Joanna said, 'it seizes the fruit and flies, full of joy, and deals with the pit later.'
        Amused, Mariko met her eyes. 'I didn't hear the Zen warning siren.'
        Hugging her friend again, Joanna whispered: 'Whoop-whoop-whoop.'
        'Too late,' said Mariko. 'I think I might already have been enlightened.'
        The front door opened, and Alex leaned inside. 'We're going to miss that train if we don't hurry.'
        As they drove away in the black-and-red taxi, Joanna looked back at the Moonglow Lounge and at Mariko in the open door. 'It can all evaporate like a dream.'
        'What can?' Alex asked.
        'Happiness. Places. People. Everything.'
        He took her hand.
        The taxi turned a corner.
        The Moonglow Lounge was gone. Mariko too.
        

    * * *
        
        The superexpress to Tokyo was a luxurious train with a buffet car, plush seats, and, considering the great speed it attained, surprisingly little rail noise and lateral motion. She wanted Alex to sit by the window for the four-hour trip, but he insisted that she have that privilege, and the porter was amused by their argument.
        At the Western-style hotel in Tokyo, a two-bedroom suite was reserved for them. The employees at the front desk were unable to conceal their amazement at this brassy behavior. A man and woman with different last names, using the same suite and making no effort to conceal their association, were considered decadent, regardless of the number of bedrooms at their disposal. Alex didn't notice the raised eyebrows, but Joanna nudged him until he realized everyone was watching them surreptitiously. She was amused, and her unrepressed smile, interpreted as an expression of lascivious anticipation, only made matters worse. The registration clerk wouldn't look at her directly. But they were not turned away. That would have been unthinkably impolite. Besides, in any hotel catering to Westerners, the employees knew that almost any boldness could be expected of Americans.
        Two shy young bellmen escorted her and Alex to the top floor, efficiently distributed their luggage between the bedrooms, adjusted the thermostat in the drawing room, opened the heavy drapes, and then refused tips until Alex assured them that he offered the gratuities only out of respect for their fine service and impeccable manners. Tipping had not yet taken hold in most of Japan, but Alex was so long accustomed to American expectations that he felt guilty if he didn't provide anything.
        The accommodations looked pretty much like any good two-bedroom suite in Los Angeles or Dallas or Chicago or Boston. Only the view from the windows firmly established the Japanese setting.
        When they were alone, she moved into his arms. They stood by the window, all of Tokyo below them, and just held each other for a while.
        He kissed her once. Then again. They were lovely kisses, but the moment was not right for more than that. As he had said, their first time together must be special, because it was a commitment that would change both their lives forever.
        'What about sushi for dinner?' she asked.
        'Sounds good.'
        'At the Ozasa?'
        'You know Tokyo better than I do. Wherever you say.'
        Beyond the window, in the rapidly deepening twilight, the great city began to put on dazzling ornamental kimonos of neon.
        

    * * *
        
        The restaurant, Ozasa, was in the Ginza district, around the corner from the Central