Millions of people passed through the stations of Greater Tokyo every day. In the to and fro of daily life, it wasn\u2019t surprising that things got lost. And when a person noticed they\u2019d misplaced something belonging to them, they would, logically, head to the Lost and Found Office.
\n Genichi Ogawa worked in the Lost and Found Office at Kita-Tsuruno station. Kita-Tsuruno was the end of the line. Or at least it was the end of one line. It wasn\u2019t the kind of place Genichi had imagined working back when he\u2019d first applied for a career with Japan Rail. But the stress of his previous post had made him sick and he\u2019d been lucky to get a transfer to anywhere. Kita-Tsuruno meant \u201cnorth crane field\u201d. The fields had long gone, and with them the stately white birds, but the station was in a relatively peaceful part of south-west Tokyo where trees outnumbered neon signs.
\n On his first day at the station, Genichi was tasked with bringing greater order to the stock of found goods, weeding out items that had sat unclaimed for more than six months. Genichi was amazed and slightly saddened by the amount and array of articles that had ended up in the back room of the office. So much loss, he thought. So many things abandoned.
\n In the afternoon, Genichi sat in his manager\u2019s office drinking cold barley tea while Mr Mori instructed him on how to help customers. Genichi liked that Mr Mori talked of helping and assisting. In his previous workplace, Travel Enquiries at Shinagawa Station, customers were viewed as \u201csituations\u201d to be \u201cdealt with\u201d as quickly and efficiently as possible.
\n \u201cIn my experience,\u201d Mr Mori said, \u201cmost of the time our customers can, with some gentle guidance, pinpoint when and where the loss occurred. Help them to visualise the last time they remember holding or utilizing their belongings.\u201d
\n \u201cYou mean, if they tell us which carriage they travelled in, or at least which train, we can trace the item,\u201d Genichi said, with some confidence. That sounded easy enough.
\n Mr Mori rubbed his stubby, yellowed fingers against his chin. \u201cThat is often the case. But at other times it\u2019s less … certain.\u201d
\n Then, Mr Mori had touched Genichi lightly on his arm and smiled. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, you\u2019ll get the hang of it. The most important thing is to listen to what the customer is trying to tell you.\u201d
\n Genichi knew that his hearing was almost perfect. The doctor had told him that during his last annual check-up, the same check-up in which his high blood pressure and weight loss had been remarked upon. Genichi may have been afflicted by self-doubt, but he was sure about his ability to listen.
\n On Genichi\u2019s second day at work, he arrived for the late shift precisely fifteen minutes before his start time. After checking his uniform for unsightly stray hairs and re-reading his notes on \u201ccustomer procedures\u201d, Genichi presented himself to his boss.
\n \u201cAh, Mr Ogawa, how fresh and tidy you look on such a hot day,\u201d Mr Mori said, his small, dark eyes twinkling. \u201cAre you ready to reunite lost items with their owners?\u201d
\n Genichi wasn\u2019t sure what to say. If he said he was ready, he would sound cocky; yet saying he wasn\u2019t ready would be unprofessional. \u201cI will do my best,\u201d he said finally.
\n Mr Ogawa\u2019s smile was almost as wide as he was tall.
\n \u201cGood, good.\u201d
\n At that moment the chime above the office door sounded.
\n \u201cAnd here\u2019s a customer for you,\u201d Mr Mori said.
\n Genichi felt a frisson of nervousness, but then reassured himself that he knew the process. He had memorised which forms to fill in when a lost item was re-claimed and which to complete if the article wasn\u2019t in the office store. And, more importantly, he was familiar with the stock, the umbrellas of every shape, size and type of technological wizardry, the mobile phones and the bags empty and full. He\u2019d also spent time looking at the miscellaneous items, including two pot plants (he would be responsible for watering them when Mr Mori was away), a trumpet, a single crutch and a wedding dress. Wouldn\u2019t a crutch be missed? Genichi had wondered. And how was it possible for a wedding dress to go unclaimed?
\n As the customer approached, Genichi stood tall and presented what he hoped was a welcoming smile. The man looked to be in his forties. His skin was pale, his bright eyes darting around the office as if he were searching for what he\u2019d lost.
\n \u201cGood day, sir. And how can I help you?\u201d
\n \u201cI\u2019ve lost … something.\u201d The man spoke without meeting Genichi\u2019s eyes.
\n \u201cWell, I\u2019ll do my best to assist you, sir. And what is it that you\u2019ve lost?\u201d
\n \u201cMy wife.\u201d The man finally looked at Genichi, his expression intense and pleading.
\n \u201cYour … wife.\u201d Genichi wondered if the man had lost his senses. But then he thought about what Mr Mori had told him — listen, help.
\n \u201cWhen … when did you last see your wife?\u201d
\n \u201cOh, I saw her this morning. But that wasn\u2019t my wife.\u201d
\n \u201cI … see.\u201d
\n \u201cNo, you don\u2019t. My wife is …\u201d The man checked himself. \u201cMy wife was wonderful, always smiling, always happy. I made my wife laugh. She loved me.\u201d
\n \u201cAnd …\u201d Genichi groped for the right words to guide the man gently. \u201c… this situation has changed.\u201d
\n \u201cYes, completely.\u201d The man opened his eyes wide. \u201cThe wife I have now never smiles. She\u2019s not happy. She doesn\u2019t, … she doesn\u2019t love me.\u201d
\n \u201cI see,\u201d Genichi heard himself repeat, but he didn\u2019t see at all. This was beyond his scope of experience. He\u2019d had girlfriends of course, but there\u2019d never been anyone he could imagine going home to. But this man, his customer, needed assistance.
\n \u201cPerhaps sir has changed, too?\u201d Genichi suggested.
\n The man looked at the walls and seemed to consider the question.
\n \u201cWell, I got a promotion, so I have to work harder. Longer hours, of course.\u201d
\n \u201cOf course,\u201d Genichi murmured.
\n \u201cAnd I have to work at the weekends, often.\u201d The man frowned. \u201cI don\u2019t like the work, but it\u2019s a good job. Secure. And I have to work, don\u2019t I?\u201d
\n \u201cDo you, sir?\u201d
\n The man didn\u2019t appear to have heard Genichi\u2019s question.
\n \u201cI don\u2019t like Tokyo. I don\u2019t like big cities. You can\u2019t see the stars in the city, can you?\u201d
\n \u201cWell, I …, well, I haven\u2019t–\u201c
\n \u201cMy wife liked the countryside, too. We don\u2019t have a garden now, of course. But she grows all sorts of flowers. And herbs.\u201d
\n The man looked at Genichi. Genichi felt he should be responding in some way. \u201cHerbs?\u201d
\n \u201cYes, herbs. On the balcony. I like to go out there in the evening. There\u2019s not much room, but I like to stand and breathe. You know, just breathe and look for a star.\u201d
\n Genichi could picture the small man on the small balcony breathing and searching.
\n \u201cPerhaps …, perhaps you could find your wife in the countryside?\u201d Genichi asked as softly as he could.
\n \u201cBut what about my job?\u201d the man demanded.
\n \u201cWhat about your wife?\u201d Genichi countered. Then he wondered if he\u2019d gone too far.
\n The man looked around at the magnolia walls of the office reception as if seeing it for the first time, as if he didn\u2019t know why he was there.
\n \u201cWell, uhm, thank you for your help. Perhaps I know where my wife is after all.\u201d
\n \u201cHave a good day, sir.\u201d
\n \u201cYes, uh, yes.\u201d The man left muttering.
\n Genichi felt rather than heard Mr Mori next to him.
\n \u201cI\u2019m not sure I was very helpful,\u201d Genichi said.
\n Mr Mori patted his shoulder. \u201cYou did just fine, Mr Ogawa. The customer is now aware of what he\u2019s lost and has some idea of how to look for it.\u201d
\n Genichi absorbed Mr Mori\u2019s words, yet was unsure if the man would find his wife again.
\n The door chimed. Genichi pulled himself up straight, but felt less certain about his abilities to help.
\n \u201cGood day, madam. How can I be of assistance?\u201d
\n The woman on the other side of the counter wasn\u2019t young, late twenties perhaps. Around his age.
\n \u201cI lost my umbrella on the 7.07 train from Kawagoe.\u201d
\n \u201cAnd what does it look like?\u201d Genichi asked, while preparing his mental catalogue of umbrellas.
\n \u201cThe train? Well, it was long, with a dark green stripe–\u201d
\n \u201cNo, madam, your umbrella.\u201d
\n \u201cOh, right, of course.\u201d The woman laughed at her own mistake. \u201cIt\u2019s pink, bright pink, with large, blue polka dots. It\u2019s not an expensive umbrella, but it … it was a present.\u201d
\n The woman looked at Genichi. She smiled again. She looked as if she smiled a lot. And yet he noted the dark smudges under her eyes that make-up didn\u2019t quite cover.
\n \u201cOf course, madam, I understand. I\u2019ll go and have a look.\u201d
\n Genichi went back into the storage area. There were so many lost umbrellas that they were kept in sections differing by colour. The bin of clear plastic umbrellas was the largest. The bin for black umbrellas was quite large, too. Bright pink with blue spots should be easy to find. He peered into the pink bin. Immediately his eyes were drawn to sky blue dots set against a background of shocking pink. He checked the tag on which Mr Mori, in his tiny, rather square script, had written when and where the umbrella had been found.
\n Genichi walked back into the reception area carrying the umbrella and the woman met him with a full smile.
\n \u201cYou\u2019ve got it. Oh, how wonderful. Thank you so much.\u201d
\n Genichi was about to say that it was nothing, but a feeling of pride swelled in his narrow chest, pride in the efficient working of the Lost and Found Office.
\n \u201cCan I ask you to sign this form, please? It states that you\u2019re the rightful owner of this property.\u201d
\n \u201cYes, of course.\u201d The woman barely looked at the form and scrawled a signature. She then returned the office pen to Genichi.
\n \u201cWhile I\u2019m here …\u201d she said.
\n \u201cYes?\u201d
\n \u201cWell, I\u2019ve lost something else.\u201d
\n Genichi smiled in anticipation of fulfilling his duty.
\n \u201cMy dream.\u201d
\n Genichi\u2019s smile faded slightly. \u201cYour dream?\u201d
\n \u201cYes, I came to Tokyo to be an artist, but, well, … well, that hasn\u2019t happened.\u201d Her voice trailed off.
\n For a moment Genichi doubted whether he was up to his new job. Who was he to assist others in their search for disappearing wives or derailed ambitions? But this was his job and he always aimed to do his best. Genichi took a deep breath.
\n \u201cI see. And when do you last remember having this dream?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Millions of people passed through the stations of Greater Tokyo every day. In the to and fro of daily life, it wasn\u2019t surprising that things got lost. And when a person noticed they\u2019d misplaced something belonging to them, they would, logically, head to the Lost and Found Office. Genichi Ogawa worked in the Lost and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":247,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[352,351],"tags":[355],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n