No I am not your English Teacher

Jason Cope cursed his rotten luck. Just as he raised his glass of hot sake, or Japanese rice wine, in a toast to Katrina, he caught sight of one of his students sitting in a drunken group of salarimen at the other side of the room.

Jesus Christ, he thought, I have to get out of here before Sato sees me. Fortunately, Sato was sitting sideways to Jason, which meant that he had a little time to manoeuver Katrina out of the tavern without being exposed.

Putting up his left hand to shield his eyes, he leant across the table and strained his voice, “It’s a bit noisy in here, why don’t we move to somewhere quieter.”

Katrina looked at him incredulously. “But we’ve been five minutes only. This our first drink, and now we order food. You say me this place good, serve best barbecued chicken in Tokyo. Noise? Who care about noise? Not me. It make, how you say it, atmosphere?”

Her Slav accent, which in the afternoon had been so exotic, suddenly sounded a little discordant. And her broken English and the constant searching for the correct word was distracting.

She raised her glass and laughed. “What is it they say in Japanese?”

“Kampai!” he said weakly, realizing that it was not going to be easy to get her out of the place before Sato finally spotted them.

Stealing a glance across at Sato’s table did not make Jason feel any better. Sato was obviously drunk, as were his three friends, and they showed no signs of leaving. In fact, Sato seemed so glued to his seat that it looked as if he would never be able to stand up. Suddenly something amused Sato. His crimson face contorted and his whole body began to shake as he chortled uncontrollably like a baby.

If only he stays like that, thought Jason, I’m safe for a while. But sooner or later, he’s going to have to go to the toilet, and it’ll be sooner rather than later if he keeps on drinking at that rate. He’s going to have to walk past me and, even drunk as he is, he’s bound to see me. Then I’m cooked.

It was hard to believe that in less than ten minutes he had crashed from the peak of euphoria to the depths of despair. As he had entered the tavern with Katrina holding his arm, he had felt like a millionaire. Three waiters had rushed across to guide the beautiful blonde and her host to a table.

The first to arrive smirked at the other two and signalled with his hand for them to get out of his way. Then he bowed respectfully to Jason and Katrina. His eyes dilated as he noticed that Katrina was not wearing a brassiere under her transparent blouse, and for a second it seemed as if he had been turned to stone. Then he glanced quickly at Jason with a look that was a mixture of envy and respect. Jason winked at him and pointed to an empty table.

Since lunchtime, his day had been like a dream. Dropping into Kinokuniya, the bookstore with the biggest selection of Foreign language books in Japan, to buy a textbook, he had spotted Katrina. She had been having difficulty communicating with a salesclerk, so he had seized the opportunity to help. Five minutes later they had left the shop together and spent an hour in a coffee shop before he had to rush off to teach an English class.

As soon as he got out of his lesson, he raced home, bathed and changed. Katrina was waiting for him in front of the bookstore at seven o’clock. From the other side of the road he had watched her for almost ten minutes. As she looked at her watch for the third time, he rushed across the road and apologized, telling her the video shooting had taken longer than he had expected. And, as he was working to a tight schedule, he couldn’t get away until they had finished an important scene.

That had been less than an hour ago. Things had changed for the worse since then. He was about to be cruelly exposed, unless he managed to get out of the tavern quickly. He no longer felt so good. In fact, he felt pretty rotten.

“Jason, you not OK?”

He snapped out of his daydream at the sound of her voice. But he had no idea what she had said. “Pardon?”

“I ask you not feel OK.”

“No, I have a headache,” he said. “Perhaps I just need some fresh air. It’s hot and noisy in here.”

She leant across the table and felt his forehead. As she did so, her nipples seemed to rest upon the table. Jason almost gasped.

“Oh, you poor boy,” she said, mistaking his reaction for an indication of pain. “I must take you to the home.”

He suddenly felt better. He was going to escape, and the best part of it was that it was now her idea. Jason relaxed and leaned forward, taking her hand and smiling. For moment, at least, Sato was forgotten. He wanted to kiss her.

Then, even above the din of the pub, Jason heard someone angrily hollering for more drinks. He looked across the room and saw Sato on his feet gesticulating at a waiter. He looked furious. The waiter was bowing and apologizing, which seemed to take the sting out of Sato’s anger. He sat down again and smiled at his colleagues, looking satisfied with himself for putting the tardy waiter in his place.

The waiter scurried away from Sato’s table towards the counter. Just as he was passing Jason’s table, Sato turned round to check on his progress and suddenly made eye contact with Jason. His jaw dropped. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He squinted through his thick lenses. Jason quickly covered his face with his hands, but it was too late.

Sato elbowed the man sitting next to him and pointed across to Jason’s table, then he got up. He stood swaying at his table waving his arm in the air shouting Jason’s name. Everybody in the place was looking at them, eyes moving left and right like spectators at a tennis match. Sato started staggering towards Jason’s table.

Before Jason could think of a way out, Sato was there, leaning across the table and smiling alcohol all over them. He held his hand out to Jason, who kept his head down and tried to ignore him.

“Mr Cope,” he bellowed so that everyone in the place could hear him, “I am belly grad to see you here.” He grabbed Jason’s hand from his face and shook it vigorously. “How are you?”

Katrina looked questioningly at Jason, who decided to chance it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but there must be some mistake. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Sato frowned, then burst out laughing. “Mr Cope is always telling jokes. Recherous man, Mr Cope,” he shouted, wagging his forefinger in mock reprimand, as he leered at Katrina’s breasts. Then he turned to the people at the next table, pointed at Jason and said, “Mr Cope, my teacher, well hung,” and he laughed lewdly.

Christ, thought Jason, trust him to remember words like that. He prayed that Katrina would not understand.

Katrina pointed to the drunk, who was by now the centre of attraction. “Do you know him?” she asked.

“No, no, I’ve never seen him before,” lied Jason.

Sato sat down at their table. “Mr Cope is the belly besuto Ingurishu teachaa,” he practically screeched. The tavern had fallen silent as everyone focused on the live entertainment. “Mr Cope is from Ingurando,” he continued. “Mr Cope is an Ingurishu genitalman.”

Jason cringed. Sato was giggling hysterically.

“No, no,” he squealed. “I misutaku. I mean Mr Cope is Ingurishu gentleman, not genitalman.” He poked himself on the nose with his forefinger and continued. “I genitalman. I laiku…” he cupped his hands in front of his chest then pointed at Katrina’s breasts.

Whether on not the other patrons understood what he was saying made no difference. The all understood his gestures and were laughing hysterically.

“No, you’re wrong,” shouted Jason, trying to make himself heard above the racket. “I’m not your English teacher. I’m nobody’s English teacher. I’m a video director. You’ve made a mistake. I don’t know you.”

Sato looked confused. “You are Mr Cope?”

“No, I’m not,” said Jason.

Katrina looked sharply across at him.

“Well, yes,” he said. “My name is Cope. But I’m not the Mr Cope who is your English teacher. I’m the Mr Cope who is a video director; so why don’t you go back and join your friends over there?”

“But you my Ingurishu teachaa, Mr Cope.” Sato looked at Katrina and smiled. “Mr Cope joking. He always joking. Mr Cope is belly guudo Ingurishu teachaa. Mr Cope besuto teachaa at Smoothu Ingurishu School.” Then he slapped Jason on the shoulder as if congratulating him for some feat he had achieved.

Jason was becoming very frustrated. Sato was oblivious to the embarrassment he was causing, and Jason just wanted him to go away, but Sato continued. “But if you not my Ingurishu teachaa how do I know your name?”

“Perhaps you met me somewhere else and you are confused,” said Jason, looking for a way out. “Now you’ve caused enough trouble. Why don’t you go back to your table and leave me alone? I never want to see you again.”

“But, Mr Cope, what about my ressun tomorrow?”

“I don’t care about your lesson tomorrow, or on any other day. Get lost!”

“Rosto? No, I not rosto, I know this place.”

“Bugger off, you idiot!” screamed Jason.

Sato jumped. He looked as if he could hardly believe his ears. “Mr Cope, I sorry.” He stood up and staggered backwards, bowing and apologizing as he left. “See you tomorrow, Mr Cope.”

Katrina looked shocked. “Jason, you tell me you video director.”

“I am,” he insisted. That man is mistaken. I have never seen him before. I am not his English teacher. And, if I were, I would not teach him words like those he was using. The man’s an imbecile.”

He looked across at Sato. The man appeared to be incredibly sad, and it looked as if his friends were trying to console him. He realized that the next day was going to be tricky, but there was nothing he could do about that. The most important thing was trying to convince Katrina that he had been the victim of a horrible misunderstanding.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. Everybody is looking at us and I feel like a fool.”

“But what about that man, now he want to cry? You sure you not know him?

“Yes, absolutely,” replied Jason. “You saw him, he’s completely drunk. Besides, he’s obviously a trouble maker. Even if he did know me, he shouldn’t have interrupted my private evening, should he?”

At the station, Katrina offered her hand and said, “Thank you, Jason. Very interesting evening….. very educational.”

“Well what about a nightcap?” She shook her head.

“It’s still early,” he said, almost pleading. “Just one more drink won’t do any harm.”

She smiled and said, “You have headache and I little tired. I have busy day.”

“How about tomorrow?” he sounded desperate.

“No, don’t think so. You see, after you leave coffee shop this afternoon, I meet other man. He English teacher, and he help me make good my English. After now, I see him a lot, so I too busy to see you again. Then she walked through the ticket gate. Turning, she said, “Oh, I almost forget. Good luck with video!”