My Year of Meats by Ruth L. Ozeki Read Free Book Online Page B

open my mouth to inspect my gums and teeth. Then he let go of,my face and shook his head sadly.
    “We Japanese get weak genes through many centuries’ process of straight breeding. Like old-fashioned cows. Make weak stock. But you are good and strong and modern girl from crossbreeding. You have hybrid vigor. My wife, never mind her. We try for having baby many, many years, but she is no good. Me, I need mate like Texas Dawn to make a vigor baby.”
    He leaned back in his chair, took a long drink, then waved at another dancer, who came trotting obediently over. As I exhaled and watched him, I started counting categories:
    Hateful
Unsuitable
Depressing
Annoying
Presumptuous
Things That Give a Hot Feeling
Things That Give a Pathetic Impression
Things Without Merit
Things That Are Unpleasant to See
    When I’d put enough distance between us, it occurred to me that I was probably the only person in the history of the world who has ever recalled Shonagon in a strip joint in Texas. I liked that.
     
    People Who Look Pleased with Themselves
     
    I was at the top of that list.

AKIKO
    Three years earlier, when they moved into the danchi complex after their honeymoon, “John” had instructed Akiko that it was her duty to purchase condoms until such time as it was appropriate to cease practicing birth control and start a family. Kneeling on the futon next to her, he broached the subject as he plucked a condom from the box.
    “That’s the last one,” he said, “from the honeymoon supply.” He ripped open the foil packet. “You have to take care of buying them from now on. As a married man, it’s not appropriate for me to do it. Make sure you always have plenty on hand—this brand.”
    He dropped the torn wrapper onto her bare stomach. She smoothed the ripped foil carefully and studied the label, “Mandom SuperPlus,” then pressed it carefully between the pages of the cooking magazine she’d been studying.
    “You don’t suppose you could possibly learn to do this too?” There was an edge to his voice. He straddled her head, his penis inches from her nose. She watched, cross-eyed, as he slowly unrolled the thin rubber sheath down the shaft. She reached up and held it between the tips of her finger and her thumb and tugged obligingly.
    How does one buy condoms? During their sex that night, she had been wholly preoccupied with the problem.
    Next to the market there was a neighborhood pharmacy, but when Akiko went the following day, she saw that the condoms were behind the counter, out of reach. She deliberated for a long time over American painkillers and then bought a spare bottle of shampoo and an unnecessary box of mineral bath salts from a famous local hot spring. It was hopeless, she realized as she paid. A box of Mandom Super Plus, please, She could hear the words in her head, but she would never be able to say them out loud to the salesgirl.
    The only other option was the vending machine on the corner by the liquor store just down the block from the train station. Akiko waited until dusk.
    There were actually three machines on the corner. One sold the condoms. The one next to it sold pornographic magazines. The magazines were displayed in two vertical rows, with strips of mirrored foil discreetly shielding from view the nude parts of the girls on their covers. But in the dim yellow glow of the streetlamp you could still see the top halves, and you could still get the gist, whether it was high school girls in sailor uniforms, or tortured women bound in fetal positions with ropes that crisscrossed their breasts, or nude nuns, even.
    The third machine sold batteries.
    Akiko was in a hurry, afraid that one of her neighbors, returning home from work to the danchi, would pass by and see her. She put her coins in, pressed the button, and quickly pocketed the pack that came out. As she turned away, she caught a glimpse of her eyes reflected in the foil that shielded the girls in the magazine machine. The girls peered back