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The sky had been heavy since morning.
Thunderheads were piling up beyond the sea, far away.
A damp wind stirred the trees in Yamashita Park.
My T-shirt clung to my skin.
Still, I decided to go out.
I sat on a bench in Yamashita Park.
I looked out at the harbor. The Hikawa Maru floated there, quiet as ever.
Tourists took photos, and children ran around by the fountain.
Cicadas were singing in some tree.
Far off, a ship’s whistle sounded.
The sea breeze touched the back of my neck.
It was damp, and hot.
But that was summer.
I climbed the slope to Yamate.
Ivy covered the stone walls of the Foreign General Cemetery.
The lanes lined with Western-style houses were a little cooler in the shade of the trees.
Yamate 111.
Green spreading beyond the windows, and walls of stone.
It felt as if only this place belonged to another age.
I live in Yokohama, and still, whenever I come here, I feel a little as if I am abroad.
At Harbor View Park, I stopped.
The thunderheads had grown bigger than before.
Beyond the Bay Bridge, the sky was beginning to darken.
Next to me, a couple looked out at the sea without a word.
I found myself following their gaze.
Just as I came down into Motomachi, the rain arrived.
At first, a few drops.
The next moment, it had turned into a drumming on the arcade roof.
A summer shower.
People on the street ran in under the eaves.
The wet paving stones shone.
A café door opened, and the smell of coffee drifted out.
I decided to go in.
I sat by the window and ordered an iced coffee.
Outside, it was still raining.
People sheltering from the rain looked up at the sky.
Ice clinked against the glass.
When the rain stopped, I headed for Noge.
The dusk was reflected in the wet asphalt.
Through the steaming heat came the smoke of yakitori from somewhere.
I turned into a narrow lane of the Miyakobashi shopping arcade.
At the first place, I ordered a draft beer.
The glass was cold, and my palm came away wet.
This is how a Yokohama night begins.
As I walked toward Kannai, the sky began to look threatening again.
I thought I saw lightning far away.
At the end of the lane, I saw a light.
I slid the door open, and cool air wrapped around me.
Green cloth spread out before me.
As if the humidity outside were a lie, the room was dry and cool.
It was as though summer alone had been left behind outside the pool hall.
Handed a cue, I didn’t know how to hold it.
Someone on the staff showed me, simply.
I got down and took a shot.
The ball didn’t roll where I meant it to.
But the sound felt good.
Outside, it seemed to have started raining again.
I could faintly hear it tapping at the window.
But in here, it was cool and quiet.
I took one more shot.
A Yokohama summer is made of days like this.
Thunderheads and summer showers, and a beer in Noge.
And, at the end, a cue in your hands in the cool air.
Maybe I’ll come back next week.
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