The Diaries of Ayesha

Tokyo, Japan. Home of J-Rock, anime, and Godzilla.

And also the temporary home to the Mistress and I due to her position on the board of DJM&G AKA the Bank.

This was for a meeting of the Euro-Asian Banking Association and our presence, well her presence anyway, was required by Wallace Dawes, her father and CEO of the Bank collecting the pound of flesh nearest the Mistress' heart by insisting on her presence even though the real work would be done by subordinates.

This resulted in a very bored Mistress, which can spell trouble for the nearest sub.

That would be me.

Her boredom doesn't usually manifest itself in abuse but worse yet, in whimsy.

This has varied from being ordered to stand on my head, to having to read aloud in a restaurant my abortive attempt to write a Harlequin Romance that was so cheesy I should have named the female character Brie.

Anyway, late that night in our suite I was reading a manga and she was working on her computer when I was distracted by the impact of a pillow on my head.

"Excuse me?" I said looking around.

"I'm hungry slave," she announced. "I would like some fruit."

I got up and walked towards the table that held a fruit basket provided by the management and examined it critically.

"Looks like mostly apples and oranges," I announced.

"No, I think I would like a banana," she countered.

I looked at the bowl again and shook my head, not seeing any bananas.

"We've got plenty of cherries," I suggested.

"Do you like cherries?" she asked sweetly, the sugar disguising the poison within the question.

"Yes, I like cherries," I replied carefully.

"I like bananas."

It was very obvious that the battle was lost, so I shrugged and walked towards the telephone on the desk to call room service.

"What are you doing?"

"I was going to call room service and order a banana for you Mistress."

She shook her head.

"What happened to the ingenious slave I collared so long ago? Calling room service for my needs instead of tending to them personally. I am depressed," she intoned.

"Forgive me Mistress. Are you ordering me to locate a banana and bring it into your presence to be consumed by your most exulted self?" I asked whimsically.

"Yes slave, I am."

So there I was at two in the morning in Tokyo with a map, a very limited amount of Japanese language skills and a quest for a banana.

I had been told by the concierge that most of the food in Tokyo is handled through market areas, one of the best known being Tsukiji Fish Market so I set out on foot across the Ginza District, a short two mile walk.

In a very cold rain with a very small umbrella.

In retrospect, I suppose I could have just had a cab called for me and done the trip in comfort, but I have this thing about cab fares and of course the Mistress insists on my walking whenever practical to help keep my weight down.

The cab fare thing is a holdover from my time with a newspaper. I ran afoul of the accounting department way too many times as a consequence of Weaver's Corollary: 5 reporters take a cab and pay 1 fare but expense it all five times.

In the words of WC Fields: If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damned fool about it.

And we're walking, and walking, as the Disneyland tour guide put it. Actually I always wondered if any of those tour guides really knew how to use that riding crop they carried with them.

Short red plaid skirts…

Down boy.

The directions were really very simple. Just exit the hotel, turn left and then right at the first corner and continue until I reached the market or fell in the harbor, whichever came first.

I took my time, favoring my bad leg in the cold drizzle that made rainbows of the neon lights reflected in my slowly fogging glasses. Every so often as I walked along I passed a small police box called a koban with a single uniformed officer who watched stolidly as I passed and despite the total population of the city, I didn't see more than a half a dozen people not counting the cops on the whole walk.

It was that very lack of people on the streets that made me aware I was being followed.

I first noticed her in a reflection off a shop window, a figure dressed in a black trenchcoat with hat to match about a block behind me on a parallel course, turning as I did but not closing range.

It wasn't the Mistress, as the figure was too tall but, it was female for sure judging from the tits.

I slowed my pace to see if the figure came closer, but again she fell back to maintain her distance from me.

Now I was sure I was being followed and was determined to find out who in Tokyo would have any interest in me at all.

At least someone nonhostile that is.

I turned a corner and stepped into a dark alleyway and waited for the target to pass. The alley was dimly lit and lined with trash cans, bicycles and any number of obstacles that would make it difficult for me to retreat or for my follower to pursue so I made myself quiet in the darkness and waited.

I didn't have to wait very long before my shadow came around the corner and stopped to peer down the alley before taking a few tentative steps placing her in easy striking distance.

I carefully took my lighter from my leather vest and flicked my Bic, throwing a small circle of light around me announcing my presence.

"Looking for someone?" I asked softly.

She whirled and started to karate chop at me which caused me to drop the lighter and grab her arm swinging her into the trash cans in one fluid motion with a resounding clatter.

She rolled off the cans and into a crouch, ready to pounce.

"Now look lady, I'm not by nature a violent man but you're forcing me to reconsider my position," I warned, not knowing if she spoke English or not.

"Your position should be on your knees, " she replied slowly standing up, keeping her face in shadow.

"Not with strangers in a dark alley," I replied.

"Am I a stranger to you?" she probed.

"Let's consider that last statement. I don't know anybody in Tokyo, you follow me in the dead of night and you try and take me down with a karate chop when I ask a simple question," I parried.

"If I had intended harm to you, why are we talking?"

I moved carefully to place my back closer to the wall of the alley before answering.

"Decoy for a final blow," I replied. "Or perhaps you want an autograph."

She laughed softly at that.

"Perhaps that would be an amusing gift to take back with me. It might be a nice gift for Alexi."

Alexi. Alexi!

I knelt before the shadowed figure, head down.

"My apologies Teacher," I said humbly.

"Accepted student. But here I am Leeda and you are Michael, and our other lives are that of dreams," she corrected stepping into the light and stretching out a hand

"And we make dreams reality, each in our own ways" I said rising to my feet and taking the hand and kissing it.

"Your Mistress is reality," she said." You look well."

"Thank you. How long have you been watching me?" I asked.

"I saw you and your Mistress when you arrived at the airport. I've been waiting for a chance to speak to you in private ever since."

I shook my head.

"There is nothing that you can't say in front of my Mistress. Or is this Temple business?"

"No it's personal. I wanted to tell you if you even need refuge you are welcome in my house as a friend or servant as you desire."

I didn't say anything, just looked at her in quiet contemplation wondering about her motives.

"I found you hard to forget as did Alexi and after you left others felt your absence as well," she continued. "You are loved Michael."

"How shall I find you if I need you?" I asked.

"Do you know Craig's List?"

"Yes actually, I use it when I'm looking for cheap computer parts."

"Just place a posting with the heading Student needs Temple Teacher and I shall contact you," she explained.

"Ok, but what city listing?"

"Just place the ad and it will be seen. And before I go, I have a gift for you."

She reached into her overcoat and pulled out a perfect yellow banana and handed it to me.

"As I said, I've been watching you," she said and walked away without a backwards glance.

Cats and Mistress' have that kind of walk, something a man can never master be he gay or straight.

So there I stood holding a perfect banana in a Tokyo alley at zero pitch dark thirty when the local police patrol passed by and flashed his light up the alley and saw me.

At least he didn't say "Drop the banana and come out with your hands up."

Not in English anyway.

He drew his nightstick and gestured I should step out of the alley.

I did , keeping my hands in plain sight at all times and remaining silent as he pulled the portable radio from his belt and called for backup I assume.

I finally attempted what little Japanese I remembered from the phrase books and said "amerika jin desu. eigo wa wakarimasu ka?" which roughly translated identified myself as an American and asked if he spoke English.

He tucked the radio back in his belt and replied in far better English than my Japanese that he did indeed understand me and wanted to know what I was doing in that alley late at night.

"If I told you sir, you wouldn't believe me anyway, " I said hoping I wouldn't have to use the phrase "bengoshi to sodan shitai desu."

That's the phrase for "I want to see a lawyer."

"Please explain," he instructed as he read my offered identification, drivers license and press card.

"I was taking my banana for a walk and it needed to use the bathroom, so we went into the alley," I said helpfully.

His response was to take a small electronic device out of a case on his belt and instruct me to blow into it.

His backup arrived in a car as the unit indicated I was stark staring sober, which only added to the confusion.

The two police officers conferred in Japanese for a few minutes as the drizzle turned into a hard soaking rain and then the first officer returned my documents and put me, banana and all into the rear seat of the police car.

"This officer will take you back to your hotel Mr. Forbin. And I suggest you do not play any more games with us in future," he warned.

"Domo Arigato," I said bowing respectfully.

The concierge was somewhat distressed to see me returned to the hotel in police custody and assured the police officer I did belong there then had one of the bellhops escort me back to the suite.

I crept into the dimly lit room quietly and placed the banana on the Mistress' night table and slid into my own bed to try and get some sleep before sunrise, plagued by the song in my head.

Chapter 32 Sections 1 to 6
Pass Me By
Vive la Compagnie
Bubbles in the Wine
Merry Birthday To You
Japanese Banana
I'm Not a Very Good Damsel in a Dress Am I