Читать книгу Post Office on the Tokaido - Greta Gorsuch - Страница 7

Chapter Four

Inside the Shindori Post Office it was warm. After a few minutes Siya could feel her fingers again. Riding a bicycle to work in late November was cold work. She would need mittens. Mr. Nakagori sat behind his desk and moved some papers around. The tiny woman with the sweet voice greeted Siya. She said, “I’m Tanaka, Yukiko. It’s nice to meet you.”

Siya answered and smiled. She wasn’t much taller than Ms. Tanaka. But as Ms. Tanaka moved quickly around the room she reminded Siya of a tiny winter bird. She moved in the blink of an eye from desk to sink to hot water kettle and back to the desk. Within minutes she held out a cup of steaming hot green tea to Siya. “This will warm your fingers,” said Ms. Tanaka. She put a cup in front of Mr. Nakagori, who didn’t look up.

“Thank you! Thank you!” said Siya. She sipped at the hot tea. It was delicious! She looked at the tea in the small cup. It was bright green.

“That tea was just picked a few months ago,” said Ms. Tanaka. “My brother has a tea farm not far from here. To the north, in the mountains.”

“Oh,” said Siya. “It’s so delicious. We have green tea in Fukuoka, of course. But it doesn’t have this color. And the taste is different.”

“Oh, you’re from Fukuoka?” said Mr. Nakagori suddenly. Siya hadn’t known he was listening.

“Yes,” said Siya. “I was born there.”

“Huh,” said Mr. Nakagori.

There was a short silence. Then Ms. Tanaka said, “Yes, Shizuoka is famous for its green tea. I’m glad you like it.”

“Thanks so much for it,” said Siya.

Ms. Tanaka showed Siya where to put her coat and bag. In the meantime, two more workers came in. One was an older woman, Ms. Goto. She was as small as Ms. Tanaka, and she had bright gray-white hair. She smiled shyly at Siya. The other worker was a man. He was quite tall. His eyes were a piercing black. His name was Mr. Shirakura. Siya couldn’t tell his age. Perhaps thirty-five? Mr. Shirakura was not a smiler. He simply said “Hello” and went to his desk.

“Everyone!” said Mr. Nakagori. “We have just a few minutes before opening time! Our customers are already waiting for us!” Sure enough, Siya could see five or six people waiting outside the post office. “So,” continued Mr. Nakagori, “I have some announcements!”

Everyone stood in front of Mr. Nakagori’s desk. “Ahem,” he said. “We have a new warning about the so-called ‘motorbike bandit.’ He struck again in Mishima last night. That’s just a few miles away. He waits for old men or old women to come out of the post office. As you know, many of our older customers do their banking here at the post office. Or they use the ATM to get cash. The motorbike bandit then drives his motorbike up behind a person. He grabs their bags and their cash.”

“Oh!” said Ms. Tanaka and Ms. Goto at the same time.

“Well,” said Mr. Nakagori, “last night he stole 100,000 yen! And he knocked the old man over to get the cash! The poor guy broke his arm.”

Everyone was silent. “So,” said Mr. Nakagori, “we will have one of you standing by the front door at all times to keep watch and notice any strange men sitting on a motorbike. And I have just the perfect person to do it! Please meet our newest worker Ms.—ahem—Fujino, Siya!” He made it sound like Shaaa. Like her name was a foreign word.