"How was your flight, Ms. Okada? It must have been very late by the time you made it to bed last night," Sarah said.
"Please, call me Rikki." These Americans were so familiar with strangers, she thought, reaching out to touch the laces with her toes. In Japan, no one would dare to ask what time she had got to bed the night before. The women had introduced themselves as representatives of the underwriter, and the one called Sarah had taken a seat next Shogo, while the other woman, Maria sat down next to her. Maria had immediately produced a large file and seemed quite engrossed in it.
Sarah was a stunning blonde, tall, and wearing three inch heels which made her a half meter taller than Rikki. She felt a pang of jealousy when Shogo greeted Sarah warmly and immediately struck up a conversation with her. Although they had traveled from Japan together for more than a day and a half, Shogo hadn't seemed to notice Rikki's interest in him, or if he had, he didn't show it at all. Shogo was not an unattractive man, and it seemed so romantic, traveling in a foreign country and all. And on TV at least, America looked like all romance all the time. She put that thought aside and turned her attention to Sarah, as she pulled the tip of the shoelace toward her chair with her toe.
"Actually, the flight arrived a little after midnight, but arrangements had already been made with U.S. Customs, so we were not delayed at the airport," Rikki said. Her name was actually Reiko Okada, but her boss had recommended "Rikki" warning her that Americans have trouble with foreign sounding names. Sarah's observation about the flight was close to the mark though. By the time they had escorted the shipment to the Field Museum, there had been no time to sleep at all, but she didn't want to complain to her hosts, lest they think she was rude.
She was being very careful not to seem impolite. Shogo had spent quite a lot of time in America, but this was her first time here, and most of what she knew about Americans was from movies and TV.
She had spent considerable time worrying about what to wear today. She noticed that Sarah wore a skirt, but she was relieved to see that Maria wore a black jacket and trousers similar to her own attire. She knew that she hadn't been selected to escort the exhibit to Chicago for her fashion sense or her diplomatic skills, it was because she was the only one in the Foreign Service office with any knowledge of art history at all. She looked across the table at Shogo, who paid her little attention, as she covertly pulled on the shoelace with her toes again and felt the shoe tip onto one side.
Sarah was talking about some friends in Tokyo, and resting her hand on Shogo's arm as she spoke. He seemed to hang on her every word, and Rikki decided she didn't really like this American Sarah.
Rikki engaged Maria in polite conversation, all the while struggling to draw the empty shoe toward her chair. She slid down in her seat imperceptibly, and stretched, until finally, she got her toe under the tongue of the shoe and picked it from the floor, balancing it precariously on the tip of one toe. She breathed a huge sigh of relief and pointed her foot upward, swinging the dangling shoe from side to side, and sliding her toes precious millimeters further into it. When her toes were well inside the shoe, she straightened and sat up in her chair, sliding her stocking heel across the smooth tile floor, and dragging the shoe toward her chair. Suddenly, she felt a slight tug on the shoe, and realized the lace must have caught on something. She pulled gently using her heel against the tile floor for leverage, but it stayed put. Finally, she pulled straight up with her foot as hard as she could, but it just would not come free. Just then, a group of people entered the conference room and everyone else stood up at once. Rikki realized too late that she had no other choice, and so she also stood up, hearing her shoe hit the floor with a dull thud. Sarah glanced under the table as if she knew exactly what had happened, and exchanged a knowing look with Maria. Rikki tapped her nyloned toes on the floor nervously, anxious to sit down again, and retrieve her shoe.
Luckily, the board members were content to introduce themselves by reaching across the table and shaking hands, and she was able to sit again without revealing her predicament to anyone. Mr. Sorensen, the curator for Asian art, began to address the group as she resumed her desperate search under the table for the lost shoe. Just before he turned out the lights for a slide presentation, she discreetly pulled a makeup mirror from her purse and used it to look under the table. She saw that her shoe was next to the leg of Shogo's chair, with the laces tucked neatly inside, and just inches away from Sarah's foot. Obviously Shogo must have moved it there and was purposely trying to embarrass her in front of all these people. She glared at him harshly, wishing she could burn him with her eyes.
When the room was dark, she pushed her chair in tight to the table until she could hardly breath, stretching both legs in a desperate attempt to make any contact with the wayward shoe. In the dim light, she saw Shogo look over at her seeming puzzled, but he quickly returned his attention to the speaker. She felt her stocking clad toes brush against his leg at least once, but he did not acknowledge her. Finally, she touched the heel of the shoe with her toes, but only succeeded in nudging it a little farther out of reach. She gripped the table edge hard and pulled her chair forward, reaching out with both legs as far as she possibly could.
Nothing. She was sure the shoe had been right there a minute ago. Concern turned to panic when suddenly, she felt the heel of her remaining shoe gripped tightly by an unseen hand. Shogo never even looked at her as she felt the laces deliberately untied and and slowly loosened. She tried in vain to keep her foot in the shoe, but her heel emerged a millimeter at a time. She looked at him pleadingly, but he never turned his attention from the slide show. Her heel was almost entirely out of the shoe and suddenly, she felt a rush of cool air on her stockinged foot as the shoe disappeared. She was so shocked that she just glared at him, eyes wide and lips parted.
Why is he doing this to me? It was bad enough that he had almost ignored her for the whole trip, now he was tormenting her. Trying to embarrass her in front of these people. She hated him. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream, and she was suddenly glad for the darkness of the room as she fought back hot and angry tears. She noticed that Sarah was staring at Maria through the dimly lit space. Rikki was almost certain that Sarah had probably seen her empty shoes under the table and was dying to tell the other woman about it. Sarah opened her briefcase and produced a pager, and switched the power off, and then on again. The pager made a chirping sound and Sarah closed the briefcase, and excused herself from the room, smiling gleefully at Maria.
The meeting lasted for another twenty minutes, and Sarah never returned. Obviously, she must have been offended by Shogo's childish behavior and left for good. At the first available pause in the conversation, Shogo spoke up. "I would like to see the area where the exhibit will be set up," he said, without looking at her.
"Certainly," agreed Mr. Sorensen and added, "If your schedule allows. It's all the way on the other side of the building from here."
"I would enjoy seeing as much of your museum as possible on the way," Shogo said, smiling broadly and looking straight at Rikki.
She wondered how she could have been attracted to this bastard as she returned his gaze with a tight smile.
"Well then, we'll give you the grand tour!" Mr. Sorenson said, sounding enthusiastic.
Maria said that she had to get back to the office, and several of the museum staff excused themselves also. The group would be about sixteen people from the looks of it, mostly board members with several reporters tagging along. Rikki waited until the last person had stood up before padding around to the other side of the table. She looked under the chair where Shogo had been sitting, but the was no sign of her missing shoes. Where could he have put them?
"Are you coming Ms. Okada?" Mr. Sorenson asked.
"Go ahead," she said. "I'll be right behind you."
Maria walked down the front steps of the Field Museum and saw Sarah leaning against the handrail at the landing.
"That was certainly a quick recovery," Sarah said, staring in amazement at Maria's feet.
"What do you mean?" Maria asked, looking confused.
"Your shoes. Did you bring an extra pair or something?"
Maria eyed her suspiciously. "Don't even try it. I have to get back to the office today, and besides, you remember our last incident over in Grant Park," she said, taking a half step backward, and glancing toward Buckingham Fountain.
Sarah looked deflated as she opened her briefcase and removed the shoes. "Here then, take them," she said, holding the shoes out at arms length.
"Those aren't my shoes!" Maria said. "Where did you get those?" she examined the shoes that appeared to be about a size five.
"Oh no!" Sarah looked shocked. "I thought they were yours. I saw the empty shoe on the floor under the table and I thought it was yours, so I took it." Her face went ashen. "Oh God, I think I must have taken M.s Okada's shoes, and I took the other one right off of her foot!"
"Nice work Sarah. If you hear a knock on your door tonight, don't worry, it's just the State Department."
They raced up the steps and returned to the empty meeting room, placing the shoes under the chair where Ms. Okada had been seated.
Rikki hurried to catch up to the group, padding across the great hall in her nylons. Fortunately, there were not many people in the museum at this time of the morning, and so far, she had avoided meeting anyone in her stockinged feet. She was not so fortunate in that she wasn't quite sure where the exhibit was, and she quickly became lost in the east wing of the museum. Several older women were approaching from the other direction, so she ducked into the mineral exhibit, and was dismayed to see there was no other way out. A group of school children entered the hall following their teacher, who was barely able to keep them under control. Rikki was felt trapped, but quickly found a bench to sit on, pulling her bare feet up under her and trying to look inconspicuous. A young girl headed in her direction, and Rikki guessed she was about eight years old. She was about 1.4 meters tall, about the same as Rikki. The girl set down her backpack and sat on the bench next to Rikki.
"My name is Katie," the girl said.
"Hello Katie, my name is Rikki."
"Are you from Hong Kong? Because my friend, she's from Hong Kong, and her dad is a doctor, and she has a sharpei, and her mom, she's from Hong Kong too, and she talks really softly, and she looks like you," Katie said, stopping only because she had run out of breath.
"I'm from Japan," Rikki said, and thought about what an eight year old knows of Japan, anticipating the obvious question that would come next.
"Are you on recess?" Katie asked.
"What do you mean, recess?" Rikki was thrown off guard.
"You know, like between classes or something, because when I go out for recess at my school, Chuckie Borman, the fat kid, well my mom says I have to say he's husky, but he's the husky kid over there in the green shirt, and anyway, sometimes out at recess, he steals my shoes sometimes and he won't ever give them back or anything, and sometimes I always used to cry whenever he did it, but my mom said it's because he really likes me, but I don't like him, cuz he's gross, but he hasn't done it for a while though..." Katie paused for another infrequent breath.
"Katie, let's line up please," the teacher called out.
Katie jumped up and hoisted her backpack walking backwards and waving at Rikki. "Bye. Oh, and it was very nice to meet you," She added as an afterthought.
"Bye," Rikki said, waving back. She felt a little better as she padded out into the center hall of the building, although her heart was pounding as she walked up to the security desk and asked for directions. The guard frowned as he looked down at her nylon clad toes, but thankfully, he restricted his comments to the layout of the museum.
When she finally found her way back to the exhibit and her group, she purposefully avoided Shogo, and stayed on the opposite side of the group. Several board members engaged her in conversation, obviously noticing that she was barefoot, but apparently too polite to mention it. Eventually, Shogo worked his way over to her.
"Where are your shoes?" he asked excitedly.
"I decided not to wear any today," she said mockingly, and turned her attention away from him.
A handsome reporter introduced himself and asked a few questions about the exhibit, staring directly at her exposed toes while he jotted down notes, but making no mention of her unusual situation. By the end of her impromptu interview, the group was finally breaking up, and she was very anxious to get out of there and return to her hotel room and suitcase. She headed toward the front of the building without looking for Shogo, and walked out the front door. It was a cold December morning, and a light dusting of snow covered the park. A persistent light rain made the marble steps glisten under the overcast sky. She drew her breath in and started down the icy steps, leaving matte footprints on the otherwise shiny surface. She had made it to the landing when she heard the reporter call out to her.
"Miss Okada," he called out, jogging to catch up.
She stopped dead in her tracks, and looked at her wet stockinged feet on the white marble steps. Her heart sank, but she turned to meet his gaze, determined to be polite at least.
"Miss Okada," the reporter started again.
"Rikki. Please call me Rikki," she said, and smiled nervously.
"Rikki. May I ask you a personal question?"
Her voice caught in her throat, and he mistook her silence for permission. She shifted her weight from foot to foot on the chilly surface.
"Rikki, I don't usually ask, and I hope you, don't think I am being impolite..." He looked at her soaked stockinged feet, and quickly looked away. When he spoke again, his voice was shaky and uncertain, "I was wondering about...well, if you're not...well if you would consider...um, maybe getting a cup of coffee, or lunch or something. I understand if your not..."
"I'd love to!" she said, "but we have to go right now!" She smiled and scampered down the rest of the steps to the taxi stand, not waiting for a response.
Snowman
