beer and fried fish. A geisha girl, her face white with cornstarch, came and sat with us and showed us how to order. Soon four other white-faced geishas came up to admire Eileen’s blond hair. One who could speak English placed a strand of Eileen’s against her own jet black hair and sighed, “How beautifur!”
Eileen said, “Isn’t it fascinating, the way they can’t say
l.
”
I asked the geisha, “How do you say
lovely lady
?”
She laughed and said, “You tease.”
“Please!” I begged.
She put her slim fingers under Eileen’s chin and said, “You have one ruvrey radie.”
Eileen clapped her hands and said, “Your kimono is lovely, too.” The girls talked for a while and then the radio was turned on and we danced. The geisha who could speak English said to Eileen, “May I dance with your officer? Very important we know American dancing.”Eileen said, “Sure,” and for the first time in my life I danced with a foreign girl.
It was pretty dull. The geisha had something sticky on her hair and so much cloth about her middle that I couldn’t hold onto her anywhere. She had apparently run into this problem before, for she took my hand and slipped it securely under a particularly huge bundle of cloth and in that way we danced. I asked her why geishas wore so many clothes and she said shyly, “I not real geisha. I only après-guerre geisha.” I thought she had used a Japanese phrase and asked her what it meant. “Après-guerre,” she said. “Maybe French. After-the-war geisha.” I still didn’t catch on and asked if that were some special kind. In real embarrassment she looked away and said, “In here we only make-believe geisha. (She pronounced it
onry make-berieve.
) To be real geisha need many years study. Many kimonos. We poor girls. We buy one kimono, make believe for Americans. We got to make money.”
When she led me back to the table two of the other make-believe geishas started talking in a real jabber and finally one of them ran to the back. It was amusing to see her move, for such girls walk extremely pin-toed, which gives them a peculiar sing-song motion. In a moment she appeared with a Japanese newspaper and there, about the size of an American penny, was my picture. This excited the five geishas and they made me stand up so they could inspect my uniform. One held up seven fingers and I nodded, whereupon the girls gasped and the first geisha said to Eileen, “You must be very proud.”
“I am,” Eileen said, and later that night, as we drove home she kissed me warmly and whispered, “I like courtin’ with you.”
I remember that I thought to myself: “This is it, squarehead. Either you get this woman problem settled now or quit for good.” So I took the plunge and said, “Where I come from, Podner, courtin’ means marryin’. When?”
Eileen smiled gently, as if something very right had happened, and said, “I want to get married…if…”
I had dived in and the water wasn’t as frightening as I had expected so I struck out and said something pretty polished for me, “I’ve been flying where seconds mean hours of ordinary time. I don’t want to wait a single day.”
She laughed nervously and said, “Can’t a girl be jittery over her first proposal?”
I was eager to play the determined lover—I was beginning to likethe role—and said, “You’ve known all along I could live with no wife but you.”
It was then that I first saw she actually was perplexed She was honestly in doubt. She fumbled a moment, and said, “It’s difficult for me to explain, but several times here in Japan I’ve wondered whether you would ever make a better husband than your father.”
“What do you mean?” I gasped.
“You know. Everybody knows your father lives for one thing. The Army.”
“Is that bad?”
She ignored my question and said, “I’ve had a weak and terrible feeling, Lloyd, that the day would come when you would think of me as your father thinks of your
Eileen said, “Isn’t it fascinating, the way they can’t say
l.
”
I asked the geisha, “How do you say
lovely lady
?”
She laughed and said, “You tease.”
“Please!” I begged.
She put her slim fingers under Eileen’s chin and said, “You have one ruvrey radie.”
Eileen clapped her hands and said, “Your kimono is lovely, too.” The girls talked for a while and then the radio was turned on and we danced. The geisha who could speak English said to Eileen, “May I dance with your officer? Very important we know American dancing.”Eileen said, “Sure,” and for the first time in my life I danced with a foreign girl.
It was pretty dull. The geisha had something sticky on her hair and so much cloth about her middle that I couldn’t hold onto her anywhere. She had apparently run into this problem before, for she took my hand and slipped it securely under a particularly huge bundle of cloth and in that way we danced. I asked her why geishas wore so many clothes and she said shyly, “I not real geisha. I only après-guerre geisha.” I thought she had used a Japanese phrase and asked her what it meant. “Après-guerre,” she said. “Maybe French. After-the-war geisha.” I still didn’t catch on and asked if that were some special kind. In real embarrassment she looked away and said, “In here we only make-believe geisha. (She pronounced it
onry make-berieve.
) To be real geisha need many years study. Many kimonos. We poor girls. We buy one kimono, make believe for Americans. We got to make money.”
When she led me back to the table two of the other make-believe geishas started talking in a real jabber and finally one of them ran to the back. It was amusing to see her move, for such girls walk extremely pin-toed, which gives them a peculiar sing-song motion. In a moment she appeared with a Japanese newspaper and there, about the size of an American penny, was my picture. This excited the five geishas and they made me stand up so they could inspect my uniform. One held up seven fingers and I nodded, whereupon the girls gasped and the first geisha said to Eileen, “You must be very proud.”
“I am,” Eileen said, and later that night, as we drove home she kissed me warmly and whispered, “I like courtin’ with you.”
I remember that I thought to myself: “This is it, squarehead. Either you get this woman problem settled now or quit for good.” So I took the plunge and said, “Where I come from, Podner, courtin’ means marryin’. When?”
Eileen smiled gently, as if something very right had happened, and said, “I want to get married…if…”
I had dived in and the water wasn’t as frightening as I had expected so I struck out and said something pretty polished for me, “I’ve been flying where seconds mean hours of ordinary time. I don’t want to wait a single day.”
She laughed nervously and said, “Can’t a girl be jittery over her first proposal?”
I was eager to play the determined lover—I was beginning to likethe role—and said, “You’ve known all along I could live with no wife but you.”
It was then that I first saw she actually was perplexed She was honestly in doubt. She fumbled a moment, and said, “It’s difficult for me to explain, but several times here in Japan I’ve wondered whether you would ever make a better husband than your father.”
“What do you mean?” I gasped.
“You know. Everybody knows your father lives for one thing. The Army.”
“Is that bad?”
She ignored my question and said, “I’ve had a weak and terrible feeling, Lloyd, that the day would come when you would think of me as your father thinks of your
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