God, if you exist, show yourself to me! Toward the end of the New Year season I was raped by a customer. It was raining that night, and it didn’t seem likely that my husband would appear. I got ready to go, even though one customer was still left. I picked up the boy, who was sleeping in a corner of the back room, and put him on my back. “I’d like to borrow your umbrella again,” I said to the madam.

“I’ve got an umbrella. I’ll take you home,” said the last customer, getting up as if he meant it. He was a short, thin man about twenty-five, who looked like a factory worker. It was the first time he had been a customer since I was working in the restaurant.

“It’s very kind of you, but I am accustomed to walking by myself.”

“You live a long way off, I know. I come from the same neighborhood. I’ll take you back. Bill, please.” He had only had three glasses and didn’t seem particularly drunk.

We boarded the tram together and got off at my stop. Then we walked in the falling rain side by side under the same umbrella through the pitch-dark streets. The young man, who up to this point hadn’t said a word, began to talk in a lively way. “I know all about you. You see, I’m a fan of Mr. Otani’s and I also write poetry myself. I was hoping to show him some of my work before long, but he intimidates me so.”

We had reached my house. “Thank you very much,” I said, “I’ll see you again at the restaurant.”

“Goodbye,” the young man said, going off into the rain.

I was wakened in the middle of the night by the noise of the front gate being opened. I thought that it was my husband returning, drunk as usual, so I lay there without saying anything.

A man’s voice called, “Mrs. Otani, excuse me for bothering you.”

I got up, put on the light, and went to the front entrance. The young man was there, staggering so badly he could scarcely stand.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Otani. On the way back I stopped for another drink and, to tell the truth, I live at the other end of town, and when I got to the station the last tram had already left. Mrs. Otani, would you please let me spend the night here? I don’t need any blankets or anything else. I’ll be glad to sleep here in the front hall until the first tram leaves tomorrow morning. If it wasn’t raining I’d sleep outdoors somewhere in the neighborhood, but it’s hopeless with this rain. Please let me stay.”

“My husband isn’t at home, but if the front hall will do, please stay.” I got the two torn cushions and gave them to him.

“Thanks very much. Oh, I’ve had too much to drink,” he said with a groan. He lay down just as he was in the front hall, and by the time I got back to bed I could already hear his snores.