The day the Emperor officially died, she wouldn't see me. "I can't. The Emperor died today," she said over the telephone.
The following day was her birthday. I had made reservations at one of the best restaurants in Tokyo as a surprise. "What difference does it make? It's your birthday."
"We can't celebrate. Today and tomorrow are official days of mourning."
I had been the first person in the house to hear the news that morning. The manager of the English conversation school where I taught had called and woke me up at eight thirty in the morning to tell me there was a good chance that a few classes would be cancelled on Monday. Throughout the morning, as the others in the gaijin house staggered into the kitchen from the bedroom upstairs or returned from their all night vigils at the disco, I sat on the only chair at the kitchen table, drinking instant coffee and reading the newspaper that my roommate subscribed to. "He's dead." I said to each person as they took a dirty glass from the sink, rinsed it, then poured their coffee. There was no need to say more, though some people asked to see the newspaper headlines.
No one was surprised. He was old and had been dying for months. The only question had been whether he would die before the New Year's holiday, thus spoiling the most prosperous season for merchants big and small. Everyday, the newspaper had listed his condition on the front page.
"Okay, we won't celebrate. Can't I just see you?"
"No. I have to stay home. If your grandfather died last night, would you go out on a date today?"
I considered for a moment. "Probably. Besides, you said you didn't care if Japan had an Emperor or not."
"I don't. But we do have an Emperor and he died today, so I have to be in mourning."
Out of frustration, I changed tactics. "You don't really believe that he died this morning, do you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think it's a coincidence that he's been in a coma for weeks, survives until just after the end of the holiday season, then conveniently dies on a Friday night so that the two days of mourning fall on the weekend? He's been dead for a few weeks already."
A buzzing sound came over the line, indicating the pay phone was running out of money. "Hold on," I said to her. "Does anyone have any ten yens?" I yelled into the television room. A few of the copper coins flew at me. I plunked them into the slot before the line was cut off.
"That's irrelevant." She spoke softly and I could barely hear her voice over the noise erupting from the television room. Every channel was showing a retrospective on the Emperor's life. The foreigners in the house who could understand the Japanese commentary were complaining that the programs were completely skipping the World War II years except for the poems that he wrote concerning the horror of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
"I thought you said you considered yourself more Western than Japanese?" I knew I should give up. I was torturing both her and me. But nothing made sense that day, not to a Western eye. I hated to see her birthday ruined by an event that she couldn't care less about. I hated to see my surprise ruined.
"Some days I have to be more Japanese than other days. I'm sorry, I have to go. My mother wants me to take her condolence card to the post office. Call me next week, okay?"
I hung up, signed, then walked into the television room. The volume was on high and everyone was yelling over the television. "Why don't you turn down the volume?" I asked, but nobody heard me. Both sofas were full. I sat down on the dusty rug that smelled of ten years of spilled bears and tobacco smoke.
They were all watching the television. I couldn't understand a word that was being said. The same thing was on every channel. We finally decided to go to the movie rental shop. The shop was full of customers, but empty of movies. I noticed that every porno movie was rented. We settled for three movies that none of us had ever heard of, bought cans of soda and five packs of Jiffy pop-corn at the 7-Eleven and a bottle of whiskey from the vending machine, and went back to the house.
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