Johnny looked away into some private place of his own choosing.
"Johnny? How do they get so many girls to work the bars? Is the money that good?"
"Not really, Brad. Most of the girls are in hock up to their cute little boobs to the bar."
"The stories the girls tell us and what we hear from other GIs is right, Brad." Dan interjected. "Yumi and I had to pay off takusan to get her out of the bar."
Brad watched his friend as he spoke. It was the first time that Dan had mentioned the fact that Yumi had worked in a bar, or that he had paid off her bar debt. The strain on him was obvious in his clenched fists and tight jaw muscles.
"It's a long story, Brad. And complicated to understand." Johnny Stump went on after a brief pause when Dan had stopped talking.
Brad had listened to what most of the GIs that cared enough accepted as the truth. The bar owners and bar mama-sans were involved in a virtual slavery ring. That female Oriental children, even now, in the 1960's, were not worth much and were still considered to be a burden on the family. Now he was with two men who were his friends and whom he respected, and they each had first hand knowledge of what was a reality.
"A lot of Okinawan families, especially farm families, are walking a tightrope between barely subsisting and not making it." Johnny started. "A way for the families to raise some cash in hard times is to borrow money from the bar owners or the bar mama-sans. The collateral for these loans is the services of their daughters. The fathers of the girls make the best deal they can. Which means they borrow as much money as they can."
Brad leaned closer to hear. John was speaking softly, though no one was close to the three friend's table.
"The prettier and more personable the daughter is, the more she's worth as collateral."
"So who is responsible for paying the loan, Johnny?" Brad impatiently interrupted. "Who has to pay it back?"
"The daughter, that's who, Brad."
The more Brad heard, and the more he thought about the Okinawan people, the men, the women and the girls in the bars he had became friends with, the sadder the tale became.
"It isn't a simple loan like buying a car." Johnny went on. "Or even a personal debt on which a set amount is paid each month so that in a given period of time the debt is resolved. The girls are paid a cut on the drinks their customers drink or buy the girls. And of course a cut of whatever the girls get from selling their bodies is given to the bar. If a GI takes a girl out of the bar for the night, to take her to a movie or to dinner the GI or his girl has to pay the bar for her time. All of these things were income for the girls and a percentage of these earnings were kept by mama-san as payment against the loan. Unfortunately it doesn't stop there. Many of the girls have never had any extras or niceties such as their own bed, a pretty dress, or even a simple pair of earrings. Consequently, they borrow more money from the bar mama-san so they can buy the niceties or even the bare essentials that a working girl needs. A good double bed is a necessity. How can they entertain a man overnight without a comfortable place to make love and sleep? Of course mama-san is quite happy to increase the girl’s depth of indebtedness."
"The working girls in the bars also make extra money by taking their boy friends to one of the local hotels where they get a cut of the room rent." Dan added.
"You guys ready to go? I want to show you a very nice bar which also belongs to my wife. She bought it after she left me. It's the Brown Derby."
I know Johnny is divorced, but he always refers to his ex as "his wife", in the present. Brad thought as he watched Johnny who had again retreated into that place of his where he never seemed to invite anybody else to go.
TEN
After the bright, mid-afternoon sun, Brad’s eyes were having trouble adjusting to the dim interior of the Brown Derby Bar. He could barely make out the features of her face when he turned to face her, but it was obvious even in the dimness of the bar that she was more than very pretty.
"May I sit down, please?" She asked. Her voice sounded as if she was coaxing a tiny kitten to her hand. Soft and very gentle. Her eyes were a direct match to her voice, soft and gentle and the color of antique mahogany. They held a barely perceptible hint of sadness which disappeared as a small warm smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and jerked at Brad’s heart.
"My name is Yoko." He could scarcely hear her above Dean Martin belting out You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Loves You on the juke box. She had perched on the edge of the booth's seat at least two feet from where Brad sat alone on the inside of the upholstered, high back booth. She was making no move to slide closer or even sit herself fully down. Just one shapely side of her butt was on the cushion.
This is nice for a change. Brad thought as a slow smile crossed his lips. She’s considerably different from the usual bar girl who would already be in my lap and maybe even reaching for my southern parts.
As his eyes became more accustom to the bar's dim interior, it turned out that the distance between them was just right for Brad to feast his eyes upon the most beautiful Okinawan woman he had ever had the privilege of meeting. Brad let his eyes slide up from her knees, which she was holding primly together, linger a second or two on her flat stomach and full hips before hesitating on her full breasts which she had modestly concealed with a very pretty floral print dress. They still caught his attention. His eyes stopped roving when their eyes met and locked together with no conscious effort from either of them.
"Would you like a drink?" Brad asked her realizing that she was very young. I'll bet she's barely 20.
"Please. Can I get you a drink?" That soft gentle voice again and their eyes continued to hold each other.
"Yes, please. Dozo.
“Johnny, Dan, what are you guys drinking?”
"I’ll stick to beer. Asahi." Dan answered. And a questioning look came across his face as he saw how Brad was looking at the girl.
“Asahi's okay, dozo.” Stump spoke up.
"I'll be right back." She spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper.
Brad watched and appreciated her very feminine walk as she made her way through the heavy after-work-crowd of Air Force Zoomies from Kadena AFB. Not even 5' tall and maybe 90 pounds, she made her way through the crowd of men effortlessly with just a soft touch on a GI's shoulder or a quiet word and they moved out of her way with what seemed to be a deference reserved for only the most respected woman of their own race. He watched the several lingering looks of appreciation she received and he felt a strange queasy feeling in his gut and a constant flutter in his chest.
"Do you know her, Johnny?" Brad asked.
"You mean the nesan who's getting our drinks?"
"Yeh."
"No, but if you want I can fix it up for you with the mama-san."
"Oh, no!" Brad almost panicked at the thought of dealing with a mama-san for this delightful girl's body. "No thanks, Johnny. I was just wondering if you knew anything about her."
"Pretty lady isn't she?" Dan threw in and Brad watched his eyes following her as she came back to their table. "You got the hots for her, Brad?" Dan added with a typical mischievous Buckner smile.
"Dan, I do believe Brad has fallen in love." Johnny added with a warm grin.
"Go to hell you guys. It's just that she's a good looking nesan with a great body." He tried to defend himself against their friendly joshing though he knew it was useless. He had already said too much and knew that he was in for at least a week of kidding.
Their eyes met again when she came back to the table and both smiled. He lost what little control he had left as he was again drawn into her soft doe eyes. He wanted to say something but couldn't manage to get his tongue around even the English words much less any of the few Japanese words he knew. He could hardly get out a quiet, "domo."
What do they call . . . . Is it correct, for your name? It is what do they call you?"
Yes, that's right. They call me B
rad. My name is Brad Burgess. Really Bradford, but everybody calls me Brad."
"Brad? Yes, I can say that." The beautiful girl said with just a hint of hesitating. "I'm trying to make my English better. I had it in school, but that was a while of time ago."
"I think that you meant to say a while ago."
She laughed softly. A little embarrassed when she nodded a thanks to him.
"You are Marines, neh?" Yoko asked looking at Brad and Dan’s heads. "You're not from Kadena Air Base."
“Why do you think that?" Brad asked her.
"You and your tomodachi have short hair. Like Marines. But I don’t know about Papa-san. He’s too old.”
"Johnny, Yoko thinks that you’re too old to be a Marine. Actually she called you Papa-san.” Dan exclaimed after overhearing Yoko's comments to Brad.
"Not Kadena. Naha. The Navy at Naha. Not Marines, we’re Seabees." Brad told her.
"Yes, I know Naha. I'm from Itoman and I went to school in Naha."
Brad didn’t have a clue of what he and Yoko talked about for the next few hours. He only knew that they had both nursed their drinks slowly. Then they were standing face to face at the back door a long time after bar closing time while Brad tried to work up the courage to ask her to stay with him. She finally pushed him out the door and he turned down the alley to meet Dan and John who were waiting patiently at the alley's mouth. He was still walking on his own when Johnny led them to an Okinawan hotel belonging to another friend where they stayed the night.
At about 0800 on Saturday morning the three friends spread out in the Kadena streets to find Johnny's car which they knew was parked somewhere in the bar district.
“Good thing it’s Saturday, Johnny. My head hurts too bad to run a Cat. Besides, Yumiko's going to be pissed at me for staying out all night.” Dan spoke quietly. Much like a man whose head did hurt badly.
Brad’s head hurt, also. His vision was blurry and he was not feeling particularly graceful as he stumbled on the cobble stones every time he lifted his eyes from their ground viewing mode. He glanced up an alley with false hope that the car was there, but instead, through his hangover induced fog, saw a pattern of colors from a familiar dress. She was bent over a small sink washing her face under the cold water which was gushing from a single faucet mounted on a piece of galvanized iron pipe above the sink. Even in his foggy condition Brad was able to enjoy the view of Yoko’s nicely round buttocks under the tightly stretched fabric and the back of her knees. He stood and watched with his heart thumping against his ribs and could hardly catch his breath. She turned towards him but luckily still had the towel against her face giving Brad time to hurriedly stepped back away from the alley.
Brad heard Dan's deep voice holler from around the nearest corner.
"Here it is, Johnny, Brad! The car is right in front of the Brown Derby."
Brad didn't say a word when he climbed into the back seat. He had walked right by the car and had never realized it was there. He knew why. He had been thinking about Yoko and hoping she would still be there.
Johnny drove slowly along the narrow street giving Brad another chance to look down the alley leading to the backdoor of the Brown Derby. He smiled and almost laughed out loud when he looked into those now familiar brown eyes and even at the distance of the alley could see their life and feel the pull of them. Yoko smiled back and sent him on his way with a tiny wave of her small hand.
After eating some breakfast in the chow hall, Brad crashed in the barracks for a while before showering and shaving. Dan had asked him if he was coming over to drink some beer with he and Yumi since it was Saturday and was also Yumiko’s day off. Brad had known even then that he would be heading back to Kadena Circle and the Brown Derby that night.
It was about 1900 when Brad hopped onto the Navy shuttle bus at the barracks. He kidded Uehara, the Okinawan bus driver, about working Saturday night instead of going out to chase nesans knowing full well that Uehara was married and had three or four akachans at home. Brad jumped off the still rolling bus at the main gate feeling great and grabbed the first pink sukoshi cab in line. He heard one of the other sukoshi cab drivers curse him in Japanese for bypassing him to take an independent, but Brad ignored him. Usually when one of the drivers got too vocal towards the GIs, the Americans would throw him the bird or verbally curse him in Japanese much to the entertainment of the independents.
Not all of the sukoshi cab drivers are thieves, communists, or GI haters. Brad thought. Only some are, but they're all paying the price for the crimes of a few.
He was feeling good in anticipation of another evening with his new found girl friend.
"Kadena Circle, Papa-san."
ELEVEN
"You're going back to Naha now, neh? Yoko asked him. There was disappointment in her voice, but Brad never heard it. They were sitting quietly in a far back corner booth watching mama-san locking the front door and the bartenders getting things behind the bar ready to close. Brad's right hand was on her shoulder and he gently pulled her closer against him. The warmth of her body stirred him and he kissed her cheek and nuzzled her soft warm cheek. Yoko turned slightly towards him allowing him to nuzzle her ear before she shifted further so his left hand gently touched the bottoms of her full breasts. She looked into his round hazel eyes with undisguised disappointment.
"Yes. I've got the duty tomorrow and have to be at work by 0800."
"Your tomodachi Dan, he work with you?"
"Yeah. We always have the duty together."
"He has a girl friend in Naha? He lives with her, neh?"
"Yeah. In Oroku. Behind Gate Three."
"I'm not going to work tomorrow night if you aren't coming. You come see me Monday night?"
"Why don't you work tomorrow night and I'll take you to Naha, to the Seaman's Club for dinner on Monday night. You know the Seaman's Club?"
"By Naha Port, neh? I've never been there, but I know it."
"Do you want to go?" Brad felt the dampness in his hands and a nervous tightening in his gut.
She's going to turn me down. I still can't believe that she isn't living with a GI already.
"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" She asked it so quietly that Brad wasn't sure what she had said.
"We can stay in my house." She added a bit clearer so it removed any doubts from his mind about what she had asked.
He was afraid that Yoko would notice how sweaty his hands were as she held his right hand tightly in both of hers.
I don't want to stay with her like a prostitute. She's better than that, but she's driving me crazy. I'm in love with her and want her so bad.
"Not tonight. I have to get back to Naha."
How do I tell her and make her understand that I'm in love with her and want her as woman who loves me, not as a prostitute for money.
Disappointed, not understanding Brad, but still wanting to be with him, Yoko ran the tip of her tongue across her dry lips before speaking. "I'll meet you at the Kadena Restaurant on the corner. Maybe at 7 Monday night. I would like to go to dinner with you."
Holding hands they went to the back door, stepped outside. Yoko stepped into his arms as soon as the door swung shut behind them.
She watched him walk away in the dim, yellow light of the alley's single light bulb. A hint of her doubt and confused feelings showed on her face as tears started to well up in her sad eyes, and even white teeth nibbled at her bottom lip in an effort to hold the tears back.
Toshiko Tamaki had been barely 18 years old when she was sold into virtual slavery by her father. She loved her father dearly and understood how it was to be the only daughter of a farmer who was now a low ranking worker in a small Okinawan manufacturing plant. He could barely feed his family on his wages.
Less than a year later now known as Yoko by the other nesans in the Brown Derby Bar and the numerous young American GIs who frequented the bar seeking her co
mpany and services, Yoko knew that the money the bar mama-san had 'loaned' her family, had paid for the used and beat-up Toyota sedan her father drove each day from Itoman to his job on the outskirts of Naha city. It also paid for her older brother's school clothes and books so that he could attend the new University of the Ryukyu Islands in Naha. He was the pride of the Tamaki family and would soon be helping rebuild an island still struggling to recover from the devastating and almost total destruction of WWII.
What happened to Yoko was similar to the conflict and confused feelings of the majority of the girls working in the bars and teahouses of Okinawa. The contradiction of their upbringing, what they saw while rubbing shoulders with the Americans every day and their deep personal feelings for the GIs continued to mess with the women's psyche. Their families send the girls to the bars and teahouses far from their home villages to maintain a distance between where they worked and where they had grown up and her family still lived. It wouldn't do for their friends or relatives to know that they worked in a bar and slept with Americans for money.
Brad let his mind drift on the taxi ride back to Naha. We spent so many nights together talking about the future, what it meant to each and what we want to do with the future. I have to admit that I've done most of the talking and possibly most of the dreaming. Yoko said little except to ask a question now and then about what I had said, I'm not very sure what she was actually thinking and dreaming.
The big dream that I shared with her was the possibility of a life together on Okinawa. The dream of a nice house on small acreage with room for a horse or two and a small garden of flowers and vegetables for her to plant and take care off. I know she wanted to do this. Wasn't it when I talked about staying on Okinawa and having this dream life that Yoko asked the most questions and made the most input such as having a horse or two? I'm not even sure that she would want to go to the states. So shy and quiet.
I'm sure I can find a job either with the Army or an American contractor such as the DeMarios. Stump will help me get a civilian job with the Army.