Matt was floating under water, face up, a stream of red trailing from his mouth.
It was the long red ribbon Mariko liked to tie to her ankle when she swam so she could see it making pretty patterns in the blue pool behind her.
In her white T-shirt with a black geometric design printed on it and a black bikini bottom, she dived into the water and pulled him to the steps. He was still playing dead.
"Strange," she said. "That they would fire you like that. It doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense," he said. "I was supposed to be an electrician. It was supposed to be a made-for-cable picture with a real budget that could get me into the union. But it was a cheap porn flick and I was working with coke freaks and low-lifes."
She walked to the white table by the pool and toweled herself off. He watched her.
"Your legs are perfection," he said. "Just seeing them naked and wet in the sunlight makes my blood flow faster. Everything else about you, too. Your long black hair. The curve of your neck. The small of your back. The pleasure I would get from watching you close your eyes and catch your breath as I caress you .... "
"Don't get started. My father will be home any minute."
"That changes nothing about the effect you have on my circulatory system. Let's go back to my place."
She looked at him.
"I'd like to come to your place. But I want to be here when my father gets back. And I'm worried about your getting fired. You shouldn't be treated that way. And I'm not sure you should call that number."
"I'm not sure I should either. But I'm worried about what happens if I don't."
"I'm worried about what happens if you do. But it's in Malibu."
"You're such a snob."
"Think for a moment. There are possibilities that come with a good address. Nice clothes. A string tie with a jewel on the collar."
He continued her train of thought for her: "A granite desk. A paper weight modeled after the rock crystal skull on display at the Museum of Mankind in London. A secretary." Then he looked at her. "Reality check: It's not for me."
"Why not? You worked in an engineering company."
"And I'd still be there if it made me happy. You know that."
A man's voice interrupted them.
"The poetry of corporate existence escaped you, my friend?"
Reinsuke Yamura, Mariko's father, had walked out to the pool in his dark blue suit and heard the last few phrases of their conversation.
"I'm more into a lyrical style," Matt responded.
"But the best corporate leaders are, too," Yamura said. "Sometimes."
"Welcome home father," Mariko said. "Nani mo kawatta koto wa nakatta wa."
"What was that?" Matt asked.
"Oh, I just told him there was nothing new on the home front." She turned to her father to begin the formalities. "Dad, this is Matt Ware. Matt, this is dad."
Yamura reached down and shook hands with Matt, who was still in the pool.
"Welcome home," Matt told him. " How was your trip? I understand the humidity's tough in the old country this time of year."
"Ah, no need to burden yourself with my difficulties. Concentrate on your own hard work. Hard work will be the key to --"
"Stop it father. You make too much money to be taken seriously as a philosopher."
"Quite true. But hard work and humility, we can discuss without philosophizing. Or is it too much of a perpetuation of the Japanese stereotype?"
"Oh, it's an American stereotype, too," Matt said.
"Yes, that's correct," Yamura said.
"Except maybe for the humble part," Matt continued. "Although a lot of people say Americans haven't built a good car since the 1965 Mustang. I guess that's humility."
"Well, on the car issue, maybe," Yamura said. "But it really doesn't mean much. Americans have done great things since 1965. Biotechnology. Software. Space exploration."
"I agree. But we're also our own harshest critics. And we have a kind of perverse nostalgia. We romanticize the past to the point where we make the present seem deficient. Have you noticed that about Americans?"
"Yes. I see what you mean."
"Nevertheless, the part about the cars, that's true," Matt said as he got out of the pool and toweled off. He followed Yamura to the table where Mariko sat as the butler wheeled out a cart with brunch on it. The cart was topped by a huge golden espresso machine. The three of them sat down and served themselves croissants.
"Tell me father," Mariko asked. "If someone put you in a position where you had to do something or risk making them angry, what would you do? Would you do this thing?"
"It depends. What is it?"
"What if it's just listening to a proposal?"
"Well I would do that, to avoid making an enemy."
"But what if by listening to the proposal you're getting in deeper than you want to get in?" Matt asked him.
"Well I would still listen to the proposal. But I would make it clear that my consideration in no way should be taken as a commitment."
"What if the other party feels you are under their power?" Mariko asked.
"Then I would make sure I put myself in the position of power so I couldn't be forced into any action."
Matt looked at Yamura. He wondered if he would be able to master the practical applications of this morning's lessons.
"How do you like America?" Matt asked him. Yamura looked back at him.
"I like America very much."
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