Waiting on a Woman
    			  a short story by Masked Maiden



	Kenji stared at his reflection in a nearby store window. His 
father disapproved of any man who allowed his hair to grow past his 
earlobe, and that was probably why Kenji kept his hair at shoulder 
length. He wasn’t violating the school’s dress code policy, so what 
was the problem? He happened to like the way he looked. Ikuko did, too. 
That was the major plus. When she ran her fingers through his russet 
tresses, he always ended up resting his head on her shoulder. Then he 
would start to stroke her hair, which was always very soft and wavy, 
and she would soon rest her head against his.

	Thinking about that really made Kenji wish his girlfriend was 
beside him right now. But Ikuko was late for their date. Again. Every
weekend they came to the shopping district for a movie or a meal at 
one of the local diners, and every weekend she was late. It didn’t 
matter if Kenji told her one o’clock, when he really meant one-thirty. 
Ikuko would somehow manage to arrive at two o’clock, flushed from 
spiriting all the way from the bus stop and genuinely apologetic. 

	Of course, Kenji was never mad at her. He couldn’t even think of 
a time when he raised his voice at Ikuko. He just felt his time could 
sometimes be better spent on other things, instead of waiting.

	“Hey, sonny, you mind if I sit right here?”

	Kenji was so enveloped in his own thoughts he almost didn’t hear 
the stranger’s question. He looked up and saw an elderly man who was 
perhaps in his early seventies. Looks could always be deceiving, but he 
had to be one of the farmers from a neighboring village. He wore a 
pair of dark denim overalls, which hid the spots of dirt that were now 
deeply embedded in the fabric. His skin was leathered and tanned, and 
wrinkled from years of working under the hot sun. It wouldn’t surprise 
Kenji if this man still rose with the sun each day to work in his 
fields of peach trees or persimmons.

	“No, I don’t mind,” Kenji replied. He moved to the side, giving 
the man enough room.

	“Thank you,” The man sat down on the bench, stretched his back 
until there was a popping noise, and then leaned against the wall of 
the movie theater. 

	Kenji glanced at his wristwatch, though his eyes soon trailed to 
what was now in the old man’s lap. It was something he held with both 
hands. Either he was making sure no one else touched it, or he was 
trying to hide the fact he was holding it. Maybe it was a little bit
of both. Not that there was anything wrong with either possibility… 
but it was bright pink and very dainty. Certainly not an item that 
belonged to him.

	Kenji just had to comment. “Nice handbag.”

	The man looked down at the bag and started laughing, rather 
loudly, as some old men do. “Oh! Well, thank you. It’s my wife’s, mind 
you. She’s still in the theater. She said she had to use the 
bathroom and there’s a line for the women’s restroom, as always. So I’m 
guessing I’m going to be waiting for a while.”

	Now there was some common ground. “I’m waiting, too,” said Kenji. 
“For my girlfriend. She was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”

	“Ah ha…” The man laughed again, now more to himself. More of a 
chuckle than anything else. “I know what you mean, sonny. I’ve been 
waiting on my wife for nearly fifty-two years. Ever since our first 
date. You know, I kind of figured that’s what you were doing. Waiting
on a woman, I mean.”

	“Really? How did you know that?” Kenji was trying to stay 
interested in the conversation. His mother and society taught him to 
respect his elders, and this old man actually reminded him of his 
grandfather, whom he was very close to, up until his death. Still, he 
kept glancing up, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ikuko.

	“Because of that right there,” the old man answered. “You keep 
looking for someone. And who else would a man be looking for? I think 
most men in this world spend a lot of their time waiting on women. It’s
just one of those facts of life.”

	“Yeah and it can get pretty annoying sometimes.”

	“Oh, I don’t know about that…” The old man stuffed his hand into 
his pocket and settled deeper into his seat. He looked out across the 
street, for no conscious reason whatsoever. Perhaps it was another 
habit old men had. But to Kenji, he momentarily saw more than the 
overalls and the thick accent. He saw a sage, one gazing out upon the 
world, sharing his wisdom to a younger generation. “If you really love 
a woman,” that man said, “then it’s always worth the wait. Whatever 
you’re waiting on her for.”

	“… Yeah…” Kenji slowly agreed. “I guess you’re right.”

	“KEN-JIII!”

	Both men looked and watched as a teenage girl hurried towards 
them, her long ponytail swaying to the rhythm of her footsteps. She 
barely came to a stop, nearly falling into her boyfriend’s lap.

	“I’m sorry!” Ikuko immediately apologized. “I had to wait until 
Mama came home because I didn’t want to leave Grandma by herself, and 
then Mama made me help her unpack the groceries. And then I missed the 
bus so I had to wait until the next came along and-“

	Kenji stood up from his seat on the bench and kissed his 
girlfriend on the cheek, a gentle gesture that quickly silenced her. 
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “We haven’t missed the movie yet.”

	“You sure?” Ikuko inquired. She wasn’t very certain if she should 
believe her boyfriend or not. 

	“Mm-hmm.” He took Ikuko’s hand and smiled, assuring her once 
more. He noticed her smile back, her shoulders relaxing, now knowing
for certain that Kenji wasn’t mad or annoyed by her tardiness. There 
were times when she could tell it got on his nerves, but even then, he 
would have a smile for her.

	The old man was now grinning, for he finally saw his wife exiting 
the theater. She resembled the handbag he was holding for her: 
delicate, a woman who surely possessed natural beauty in the days of 
her youth. Her white-silver hair was neatly pinned up in a bun, and her 
plain cotton dress was worn but clean, a pale blue that matched his 
husband’s shirt.

	“There’s my young lady,” he said.

	“Oh now, don’t lie,” his wife spoke back, in a jokingly manner. 
“You know I’m not young.”

	“Well, you’re still my lady.” 

	The wife laughed and patiently waited while the old man slowly 
rose from the bench, his joints no longer as nimble as they used to be. 
He handed his wife her handbag and then offered her his arm. She 
wrapped her arm around his and stood on her tip toes, giving him a peck 
on the cheek. They walked off together, arm in arm, almost in their own 
world. Kenji and Ikuko both watched them, thinking they were an anomaly 
of their generation. People of the younger generation were the ones who 
showed affection in public. This old couple probably didn’t care what 
society thought of them. As anyone could tell, they were still very 
much in love with each other, even after all their years together.

	“You think we’ll be like that when we’re old?” Ikuko asked.

	It was all Kenji could do to not laugh. All he could think about 
were those words the old man said to him, and how his words were proven 
to be true. “Oh yeah…” he said “I think we’ll be exactly like them.”