Don’t cross the matchmaker

Brendan O’Brady winked at Ms Yoshida when she handed him the envelope containing his salary slip. Usually she like to flirt with him, but today she averted her eyes and moved on quickly to Ricky, whose desk was in the corner. Brendan was surprised to see that she smiled at the American when she handed him the envelope, for that was something she rarely did. In fact, none of the office ladies smiled at the big man—they were all a little afraid of him.

Brendan smiled lewdly at Ted, sitting opposite him and said, “He must have forgotten his jock strap today.”

“Did you say something, pinhead?” retorted Ricky.

“No I was just thinking aloud,” said Brendan smirking, “and my thoughts are a little ahead of your own.”

“Yeah, one of these days you're going to open your mouth just wide enough for me to put my foot into it,” growled Ricky.

“There he goes, bragging again,” laughed Brendan. “Well, let's see how much we're worth this month.” He opened his envelope.

There were two slips of paper inside, the familiar pink salary sheet, which contained all the details of the previous month's work, and a larger document that was covered in red official-looking stamps. Curiously, he unfolded it. Most of the writing was in Japanese so he could not understand it, but the very last sentence, which seemed to have been thrown in almost as an afterthought, was in English, very bizarre English. The bold letters, which almost jumped off the page, said ‘I demand your appearance at a meeting to reprimand you for reprehensible and abnormal behaviour which contradicts the bounds of human tolerance and verges on the borders of almost perversion.’ It was signed by Takeishi Nakagawa, the owner of the school — and he spoke not a word of English. Brendan burst out laughing and threw the letter across the table to Ted.

Ted finished polishing his glasses before he picked it up. Then he squinted at the letter, his face taking on an expression of bewilderment.

“Brendan, do you understand this?” he asked. His was more serious than usual.

“OK, what's the joke?” Brendan laughed.

“This is no joke. It looks like you're in deep shit. I've been in this country for more than ten years now, and the only other time l saw anything like this was when they fired Bill Farmer, and he really asked for it.”

“Nice one, Ted. Congratulations, your Japanese is improving. But it must be a Joke. Have you read the last sentence? I've never seen such crap in my life,” he laughed･

“What do you think, Biggun?”

Ricky did not like the way Brendan addressed him. “What do I think about what?” he snarled.

“Show him the letter, Ted.”

“You know I don't read Japanese, jerk! And besides, I mind my own business.”

Ricky packed away his sandwiches and the extra can of coke he always had with him and strode out of the room.

Brendan stood up and walked across to the schedule board. “That's funny,” he said, “I'm not scheduled for any lessons today. “Thursday is usually my busiest day. And this is strange, the big man is teaching all my classes this morning. Does anyone know what's going on?”

“As I told you,” said Ted, trying to sound superior, “the last time a saw a letter like this, Bill Farmer booked his ticket back to the States･What have you been up to? It's got nothing to do with those office ladies you teach on Mondays, has it?

Brendan feigned hurt. “Common Ted, you're not suggesting that I fraternize with my students, are you?”

“It's none of my business what you do at eleven o'clock at night with a girl you've been plying with sake for a few hours.”

“Who's been telling stories?”

“Nobody needs to tell stories about you, Brendan. You’re so good at telling them yourself.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Anything you want it to,” said Ted on his way out the door.

Brendan read the letter once again, but this time he did not laugh. Obviously something was wrong, So he had to find out what it was･ Norman should be in by now, he thought, So he strode along the corridor and knocked on the door of Norman Bannister, the director of studies. Norman's secretary almost jumped out of her seat when he entered. She left immediately, ignoring him as she squeezed past him. Normally she was all smiles and come-ons.

“What have I done to her?” asked Brendan.

“You tell me.” Norman threw his pencil down and leaned back in his chair. “You seem to have been a busy lad recently. What with the drinking you do and all the women you are bedding, it’s no wonder you've grown a beard. You can hardly have time to wash your face let alone shave.”

“What the hell is going on?” Brendan's Irish brogue had lost its musical lilt. “For Christ's sake, tell me what's up.”

“Sit down, Brendan. It's time we had a straight word.” Norman's long bony face clouded over. “You are in trouble, big trouble, and you have brought it on yourself.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't interrupt. I am doing you a favour by telling you this now. There have been complaints about your behaviour, serious complaints, and Nakagawa is all for firing you. You see, you've caused him to lose face, and that's rather silly, isn't it?”

“I haven't done anything wrong,” protested Brendan.

“Well the list of complaints is longer than thing you're always bragging about; so you had better have a few good stories ready for the meeting this afternoon. And not the kind you usually tell. That's all I can say now.”

“Jesus Christ! What have I done to piss you off?” said Brendan angrily.

“Just because we're friends doesn't mean that I have to sacrifice my job to cover up your the mistakes. Go and take a walk. Clear your head and come back at one o'clock to see what they have to say.”

When he arrived back at the school, everybody standing around in the corridor suddenly disappeared. He saw Nakagawa sitting at his desk studying a memo in front of him. The door was open, so he knocked and was about to enter. Nakagawa looked up from the memo, checked his watch and shouted, “One o'clock. Not now.” Then he ran across to the door and slammed it in Brendan's face. Brendan looked at his watch. It was two minutes to one. He turned to see Norman walking up the corridor towards him.

“In here,” said Norman, gesturing with his head to one of the classrooms. The desks had been arranged to forma semi-circle, with one desk—and Brendan knew whose that was—placed in the hollow. There were papers on all of the other desks.

“It's Kafka all over again,” said Brendan.

“Look,” said Norman, peevishly, “I am going to interpret for you, so don't make it difficult for me. If you are lucky, you will just get a bollocking. “Keep your mouth shut till they’ve finished, then apologize and promise not to do it again. That's the way they do it here.”

“But I've done nothing to apologize for,” insisted Brendan.

The door opened, and in walked two secretaries followed by the sales manager, the head of the Japanese language department and, at the rear, Nakagawa, formerly a petty bureaucrat in the Ministry of Education and now owner of one of the biggest private language schools in Tokyo. Nakagawa sat down and began to study the papers in front of him, mouthing certain words and occasionally looking up at Brendan as if he were trying to psyche him out. Suddenly he started to speak in short rhythmic phrases.

It sounds as if he is chanting a sutra, thought Brendan.

Nakagawa stopped and nodded to Norman, who began to speak. “These are not my words.Ⅰam only the interpreter, bear this in mind.” He looked at Brendan as if waiting for a response.

Brendan shrugged his shoulders.

Norman began to interpret. “You are a lascivious philanderer, and you abuse your position of trust to pursue your salacious desires.”

“Where the hell did you dig up those words?” asked Brendan, almost laughing at the antique phrases he had just heard.

“Silent you! Now!” screamed Nakagawa.

“Hear me out, I’m only the messenger,” said Norman, a little piqued.

“The stage is all yours, Brabantio.” Brendan was too amused to be angry or worried about what was to come.

“You are a seducer of innocents, and a drunkard. You are incorrigible.” Norman looked at Nakagawa, who suddenly began to recite his lines again.

Brendan began to tap on the desk. Nakagawa stopped and shook his finger at him. Brendan smiled. Nakagawa exploded. The others just stared at him, showing no sign of emotion. Norman Bannister dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

Brendan stood up. “I don't have to take this shit. Tell him to go to hell,” he said to Norman.

Norman shook his head. “Sit down. He's got a right to be angry. He was up at Kodama Trading Company yesterday. In fact he spent most of the afternoon there; then he spent a fortune on the Ginza afterwards to make up for the trouble that you have caused.”

“Look, Norman, I have no idea what you are taking about.”

Norman spoke in Japanese for about five minutes. Nakagawa shook his head, the others followed suit. Norman continued speaking. At last Nakagawa said something and waved his hand in Brendan's direction.

“OK. Her are the charges,” he said. “First of all, you got three of the girls from Kodama drunk and you laid them. You often drink beer during your evening Classes when none of the office staff is around to watch over you. You are never prepared for your lessons, which shows that you are not serious. And, finally, the students can't understand your accent.”

Brendan was stunned. He looked at Norman, then he turned to Nakagawa. “I have never had sex with any employee of Kodama. And I will go even further to say that I have never had sex with any of my students. Yes, I’ve often had a few drinks with some of the female students, but I have often also been drinking with the male students. And I never pressurize anyone into drinking. You know that I always prepare for my lessons, but I have a sense of humour and often crack jokes. Is there anything wrong with that? Does that mean that I am not serious? As for my accent, have you had any complaints before?”

Norman interpreted everything. Nakagawa answered.

“He said that the complaints were made by the manager of the International Education Department at Kodama, and he has no reason to doubt him.”

“But that doesn't make any sense. I have a great relationship with Mr Kato. I was his private English teacher, and I proofread all of his letters in English. In fact I was drinking with him last Friday. I don't believe he has said anything bad about me.” Brendan looked hurt.

Nakagawa began his chant again. When he had finished, he nodded to Norman.

“He's is going to give you a chance to apologize. He wants you to sign this written statement that you acknowledge your wrongdoings and that you promise not to repeat them.”

Brendan looked at the paper Norman had handed him. “What's the point?” he asked.

“The point is, and you know it, that if you don't sign this statement, he will have your visa rescinded and you can kiss good-bye to your little cottage in Cork.” Norman was trying to keep his voice down, but he was gradually losing patience with Brendan.

“Ⅰ'll think about it,” said Brendan.

“Yes, and if you've got any sense, you'll answer within a minute. That's my advice.”

“I'm pretty pissed off about this,” said Brendan.

“So am I, so just sign and apologize. We can talk later.”

Brendan shrugged his shoulders, took out his pen and signed the ridiculous apology. He got up and handed it to Nakagawa, bowed deeply, almost mockingly, and said, with empty sincerity, “I am very sorry for the trouble I have caused you Nakagawa-san.”

Nakagawa also stood up, smiled broadly and bowed, “Mr Brendan, nice guy,” he said, and walked round the desk to shake hands with him.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed･ Everyone was smiling. Brendan was back in the fold. Norman pushed past Brendan and whispered, “Meet me in the pub in Harajuku at seven o'clock.”

Brendan was on his third beer when Norman arrived. “How many is that you’ve had?” was the first thing Norman said.

“It might be my first,” said Brendan.

“And Nakagawa might not be going to fire you,” said Norman. “The first round was a draw, but they've got it in for you. “You are going to have to watch your step.”

“You told me to sign the apology. I did, and he seemed happy. Did you not hear what he said? Why, he even shook hands with me.”

“You are naïve, aren't you? That is how they operate over here. They decide to fire you, then they go through the motions of giving you a chance.”

“Tell me, Norman, why is this happening?”

“You've obviously stepped over the mark this time, so somebody has decided to get even with you?”

“But who could it be?”

“I could name three people for a start. I can't figure you out. You go overboard with some people, and do everything possible to win them over; then you step on somebody else’s toes. And you can't keep your mouth shut.”

“What do you suggest I do?”

“If I were you, and thank god I'm not, I would start looking around for another job before they fire you?”

“Just a week ago in this very pub you were talking about making me your deputy. A week is a short time in a language school.”

“That's just it. The next day, you were spouting your mouth off in the pub near the school. Ricky and Ted were in to see me about it the next day. They have both been here longer than you, so they feel that you were worming your in through the back door.

After all, it's no secret that we're drinking buddies, is it? Ricky even collared Nakagawa about it, and Nakagawa didn't like that.”

“So it must be one of them that has been slandering me,” spat out Brendan.

“I doubt it,” said Norman. “Nakagawa doesn't like either of them, so he is not likely to listen to anything they say. No, it is more likely that Kato is behind it for some reason.”

Brendan looked distraught. “That can't be right. I get on really well with him.”

“Yes, but how well do you know him?” Norman let the question hang in the air.

“From what I've heard, you're on familiar terms with one or two of the girls in his company, particularly that cute receptionist?”

“There's nothing between us. She happens to like Irish folk music, So I invited her to a concert last month.”

“Well, there's a rumour going round that—and I don't know who started it—you two spent the weekend at a hot spa. Is that true?”

It was one of the very few times in his life that Brendan had ever blushed. “Who told you that?” Brendan was starting to feel unsure of himself. He had certainly told no one about this. Surely Hisako had not said anything. “Anyway, what has that got to do with Kato?”

“You're so bloody egoistic, Brendan. “Conversation is always one-way, isn't it?”

“What do you know about her? Come on, tell me what you know. I bet I know more about her than you do, and I've never even spoken to her except for a quick greeting on my way in to meet Kato.”

“What am I supposed to know?” Brendan was confused.

“Do you know how she got her job at Kodama? Do you know who introduced her to the company? And do you know why?”

“It's not Kato, is it?” asked Brendan.

“Yes it is Kato. Kato is her mother's cousin. Not only did he introduce her to the company, but he also introduced her to her fiancée. He is the "nakodo", and just in case you don't know what that means, I'll tell you. It means that he is the go-between or matchmaker, it is one of the most important roles in Japanese society. If her wedding is called off because of you, he will lose so much face that suicide will seem like the only way out.”

“Jesus Christ! What do you suggest I do?” asked Brendan.

“Buy a newspaper in the morning and start calling around for a job. I’ll make sure that you get good references. You can say you left because the money wasn't very good, and I’ll back you up on that.”

Brendan shrugged his shoulders, emptied his glass and called for more beers. “When do suggest I quit?” he asked.
“I would do it tomorrow. Nakagawa could tell Kato that he has fired you so we will not lose the contract. And Nakagawa would be happy to give you a good reference, just to get rid of you without any trouble.”

Brendan leant back and smiled, then, almost as if speaking to himself, said “It was a hell of a good weekend.”