Free Tuvalu by Andrew O'Connor Page A

Harry.

    To my surprise Harry attached himself to me. I became his letter of introduction to far more than just the hostel. Three days after meeting him I watched him pull a saucer from the conveyor belt, position both chopsticks in his left hand with his right and, like a man arranging a puppet, try to find a hold on a portion of tuna.
    â€˜We’ve kind of become good friends, haven’t we?’ he said.
    I nodded, thinking how little I knew him.
    â€˜Then I want to make you an offer.’ His voice was businesslike. ‘The fact is, I need a small loan and I’m in a position to offer an excellent rate of return. Normally I’d go through a financial institution. This is not how I operate. But I’m eating with chopsticks and nothing is normal.’
    We were in a small sushi restaurant. The tall wooden stool upon which I sat, feet off the ground, was rickety. I felt as if it might collapse at any moment. The boy preparing rice behind the U-shaped conveyor belt—moulding it into rectangles with practiced, wet hands—threw me frequent, nervous glances.
    â€˜This loan would be short term,’ Harry continued. ‘Three days tops.’ He sipped at his steaming green tea and his eyes hardened.
    â€˜How much do you need?’ It was my intention to plead poverty after hearing a figure—any figure.
    â€˜No more than 20,000 yen. This morning I learnt the transfer from America will take three days. I should have brought more cash. I’ll repay you 25,000 for the favour of a three-day loan.’
    â€˜That wouldn’t be necessary,’ I said cautiously.
    â€˜I insist. I don’t want to hassle with a foreign bank, and even if I do they’ll ask for something like that. Why not give it to you?’
    I nodded, unconvinced, and tried to think of a way to let him down.
    â€˜Then we have an agreement?’ he asked.
    â€˜Well …’
    â€˜Only if you’re comfortable with it.’
    I ran some rudimentary figures in my head. I had saved almost 350,000 yen living in Nakamura’s. What Harry wanted was only a small portion of this total, but instinct told me to decline. The problem was I felt somewhat awkward turning him down over lunch. I would be trapped with him afterwards and it seemed easier to buy a speedy end to the matter.
    â€˜It’d be a pleasure,’ I said at last. ‘I’ll give you the money tonight.’
    â€˜Thanks. I appreciate that. I can’t believe the banking over here. I have a card, but I can’t get it to work in a single Japanese ATM. How about that.’
    â€˜I’ve had the same problems moving money,’ I said. It’s common when you first arrive. Like I said, I’m happy to help.’
    I was not at all happy to help, but could see no way out of it. Harry nodded. He seemed to be planning what he would say next—selecting his words in advance and running them through his head silently.
    â€˜I’m moving a smaller portion first—to live on—then a larger portion later in the month. The latter will take a hell of a lot of organising, but it’s a better rate. It is worth the fuss since I’m bringing over my life savings.’
    To this I said nothing. Harry struggled to get a slab of tuna to his mouth. Having raised it halfway he dropped it, and a portion of rice fell to the floor, breaking into pieces as it went, like a tiny snowball. Neither of us moved to clean it up. I focused on a pile of empty, stacked plates, counting and recounting them. The sum total seemed to be different each time.
    Now that my gesture was made I felt I had been cheated. I looked around as if for witnesses. There were only three other customers in the restaurant: a salaryman, his ugly middle-aged wife and their thin but voracious teenage son. All three were seated on the opposite side of the conveyor belt. They shovelled sushi into their mouths and chewed like cattle, eyes inert, jaws moving in