The Flower Master (Rei Shimura #3) (11 page)

She nodded.

"Good," he said. "Mrs. Koda, could you bring me some roses?"

Mrs. Koda hobbled to the back of the gallery, disappearing behind an unbleached linen curtain. She came back holding a bundle of white roses.

"Just what we need." Mr. Kayama took the flowers from her. Natsumi handed him a pair of ikebana scissors and he snipped off the stems. My aunt had taught me to cut flowers under water, but obviously the headmaster had rules of his own. Masanobu Kayama slid the roses into the mouth of one of the urns. The vine-draped urns had seemed serene and unpretentious before. Now there was a bizarre contrast, the showy white roses outlined starkly against the dull pot. And the broken shards in front looked to me as if they needed sweeping up.

"What does Mrs. Braithwaite, head of our international students, think of the arrangement now?" Mr. Kayama said in English, surprising me—and Lila, too, as I gathered from the way she stiffened.

"Oh!" Lila paused, her eyes darting from the flowers to Maris bowed head and then to the iemoto. "I am struck by the contrast between black and white? Between clarity and illusion?"

"I agree." The headmaster looked at Lila for a long moment. "Well, let's move on."

Mari Kumamori appeared so dejected that I wanted to stay back and squeeze her shoulder, but Mr. Kayama was already standing in front of Aunt Norie's and my bamboo fence. I had to be there to take whatever he hammered out.

"Well!" Masanobu Kayama laughed heartily. Natsumi joined in with a few giggles, but from her face I could tell she didn't know what was going on.

"At our country house we have a bamboo fence," the iemoto explained. "When my children were young, they once decorated it with some flowers from the garden."

"They were very naughty, completely beheading the iris garden on the day some people from the French embassy were visiting," Mrs. Koda said, smiling as she spoke. "I remember it clearly. Sakura sent you to bed early."

"She always sent us to bed early," Natsumi said, startling me.

There was an awkward silence until the iemoto said, "This arrangement certainly is enjoyable. You're playing with the concept of heaven and earth, placing the iris up so high. I like that."

He moved on to the next arrangement, but I didn't really hear anything. I was too busy trying to decode what had been said. Did the headmaster really like the arrangement, or was he telling me that it was as clumsy as a child's work? Natsumi had looked at our arrangement when it was finished the day before. She hadn't said anything then about it reminding her of her childhood. But maybe that was what had upset her enough to argue with my aunt.

In the time since Masanobu Kayama had begun the critiques, a few more visitors not affiliated with the school had entered the show. One of them had brought a camera and was starting to photograph the arrangements.

"We are getting some people at last!" Mrs. Koda said. She had surprised me by coming up after the headmaster had passed on to critique the next arrangement. "Shall we have a cup of tea? I don't think the iemoto needs me."

"I would like that," I said, walking slowly with Mrs. Koda toward the beverage service. There were only two tables with chairs, and I wanted to be sure to find one for Mrs. Koda.

"Did you know that our school has its very own boxed tea and cookie sets imported from France? The black tea is perfumed with cherry, and the madeleines are flavored with almond. I know because I ordered the refreshments myself. Let me show you."

"Please just sit down and relax," I urged her, picking up a tray for both of us.

I made Mrs. Koda sit down and set off for the tea service. A cast-iron teapot, the kind that imbues tea with a lovely flavor, was waiting, along with a tray of Wedgwood teacups and dessert plates. The madeleines lay on a tray with silver tongs next to it. I picked up a few cookies and poured two cups of tea.

Miss Okada appeared from behind the linen curtain. "Ah, Shimura-san! You are the first to try our refreshment center. I'm afraid there is a fee—the cookies are two hundred yen and tea is five hundred."

"Please keep the change." I said, giving her fifteen hundred yen. Once again the Kayama School was forcing its students and teachers to tithe. I realized part of my irritation was due to the fact that she seemed to think I'd intended to steal the tea and cookies. There had been no sign telling about the fees.

"The iemoto liked your arrangement. You should tell your aunt," Miss Okada said.

"I'll try. She'd probably be more likely to believe the comment if it came from you," I said while lightly sugaring my tea. Japanese people didn't usually add sugar or milk to tea, so I left Mrs. Koda's cup plain.

"Certainly. But she hasn't been to the school since the accident."

"Yes, it's been hard. The ladies aren't speaking much to her." Beyond Miss Okada, I saw the back of a woman wearing a fancy kimono and carrying a hot-water heater. As I spoke, the woman stopped in her tracks and then scurried off in the same direction from where she had come. The woman was probably one of the Kayama School members who had been ostracizing my aunt. It was a shame that I didn't get a look at her face. I could only imagine that she was blushing.

"I've been here all morning, and can you believe you are the first person to buy a cup of tea? Thank goodness! If only more people would come!" Miss Okada was refusing to stay on the uncomfortable topic I'd broached.

Feeling resigned, I said, "There are plenty of people in the department store, but apparently they aren't interested in ikebana. Natsumi Kayama told us she thinks the younger generation doesn't care about flowers."

"It is true, Shimura-san. That is why we need you to become part of our circle. You will be a wonderful ikebana artist. I can tell by your sense of commitment." Miss Okada smiled with what looked like phony approval as I picked up the tray of tea and cookies and brought it to Mrs. Koda.

"Ah, how delicious-looking. Itadakimasu." Mrs. Koda offered the brief Japanese grace meaning 'I shall receive,' and we both took sips of our tea.

"So how was it for you to undergo your first critique by the headmaster?" Mrs. Koda asked.

"It was Aunt Norie's work, not mine."

"How Japanese of you to give your senior credit. That is polite, Rei-san, but I have not kept my eyes closed. I watched you handle the irises yesterday and today. You are growing in confidence. You cut each flower to the right length without hesitation."

I had been working fast because I wanted to get out of the department store and back to my antiques work. I couldn't reveal that, so I said, "I'm unskilled. Mari Kumamori is much better."

"Mrs. Kumamori did an arrangement without flowers, just vines that are considered by the headmaster to be weeds," Mrs. Koda said.

"But she was doing freestyle!" I protested. "Doesn't freestyle mean free choice?"

"It lacked emotion," Mrs. Koda said. "Your work was exuberant. Hers was too quiet."

"I always believed quietness was considered a Japanese virtue," I said, draining my cup. Despite the amount I'd drunk, my mouth felt dry. Still, I wasn't going to shell out five hundred more yen for a second cup. I turned to look at Mari, who was on her knees, touching the broken shards of pottery. She had remained beside her arrangement, even though the headmaster and his flock had moved closer toward the refreshments area.

"I liked Mari Kumamori's arrangement before the headmaster broke it," I told Mrs. Koda.

"Shhh," she cautioned, inclining her head toward Eriko, who had taken it upon herself to guard the tea and cookies. "You don't want rumors spreading that you are undisciplined."

I decided Mrs. Koda wasn't as sweet as my aunt had told me. In fact, I felt sick listening to her. I put a cookie in my mouth. If I could finish the snack, I'd have a good excuse to get away from her.

"It was interesting that your bamboo and iris arrangement brought to mind the prank the Kayama children played so long ago," Mrs. Koda said. "With a memory as sharp as his, the iemoto will probably run the school for twenty more years!"

"Really? You think that Takeo won't be able to take over until he's"—I quickly calculated—"almost fifty?"

"Of course. Usually the takeover does not come until the death of the headmaster. That was the way it was for Masanobu-sensei. His father practiced until seventy, and then he took over. It was just twenty years ago."

"A few years after his wife was killed," I said, fighting the queasiness inside me. Maybe I was coming down with change-of-season influenza. If so, I should really consider buying a little white half mask for my subway ride home. Mitsutan probably sold them in their toiletries department. Surely one of the ladies had one in her purse. The thought of shopping seemed impossible.

"Not killed," Mrs. Koda corrected. "Mrs. Kayama died because of an accidental fall."

"Takeo told me," I said, putting my hand over my mouth as I felt myself start to gag. Yes, I definitely was sick.

"You must say Takeo-san or Takeo-sensei," Mrs. Koda corrected me. "I know that he is your age, but you must still show respect."

The nausea was overpowering me. I stumbled to my feet, preparing to run to the ladies' room. Headmaster Kayama and the knot of women stood between the gallery exit and me.

"Rei-san? Is something wrong?" Mrs. Koda asked.

"Chotto shitsurei shimasu!" I bleated the traditional words of departure. They translated as "I'm going to be a bit rude," and now I feared it would literally be true.

I was too dizzy to move in a straight line. I tripped over Mrs. Koda's cane and glanced off the side of the cafe table. I heard the porcelain teacup smash just before I vomited. A bizarre hallucination flashed through my brain, a vision of myself as some kind of grotesque watering can. I had never been so embarrassed in my life. Then I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes, I focused on cherry blossoms so big and dazzling that they looked fake. I blinked and moved my head slightly. More flowers. Daffodils, azaleas, lilies... Was I lying in the middle of a huge flower arrangement? No. Beyond the flowers was a wall of familiar wood-block prints. I was at home, albeit with an extremely sore throat and a dull ache in my buttocks, thighs, and shoulders.

"Rei-chan! You are awake!" My Aunt Norie spoke, brushing her hand across my forehead. "Tsutomu, come and look at her."

I adjusted my head until I was looking straight up into my cousin Tom's face. When he began shining a flashlight into my eyes, I threw an arm over my face for protection. "That's obnoxious," I muttered.

My cousin smiled. "Good verbal skills. Apparently there's no brain damage."

"I wanted you to wake up at home surrounded by beauty," Aunt Norie said.

"I couldn't possibly arrange all these flowers. Why not potted plants? They live forever," I said, feeling strangely weak.

"A potted plant is bad luck for a sick person. It suggests that you will grow roots and never get out of bed. Now, how would you like that?" Aunt Norie tucked a thermometer under my arm.

"The flowers are get-well wishes from your friends and colleagues," Tom added. "Everyone was so worried after you collapsed at Mitsutan."

"I got sick there, didn't I?" I suddenly remembered my image of the watering can.

"That's putting it mildly," Tom said. "You vomited and fainted on Saturday afternoon. Its now Tuesday. You were at St. Luke's until yesterday afternoon, when you insisted on signing out. I promised to coordinate your follow-up care, and you would ordinarily be at our house in Yokohama, but my mother decided it would be better for you to be away from the media."

I did have a dim memory of being in a bed fitted with starched white sheets. Another memory of an overflowing bedpan, and a taxi ride with a lot of people around me. What else had I missed?

"I telephoned your parents to tell them about the crisis. They also agreed that it would be best for me to nurse you," Aunt Norie said. "I'm here for as long as you need me."

Now that my eyes could focus past the flowers, I saw unfamiliar quilts, two suitcases, and an extra- large rice cooker. Aunt Norie appeared to have moved in for a while."This is rather a lot of fuss," I said. "What do I have, a bad case of the flu? My throat still hurts."

Tom shook his head. "Your throat is sore because we had to put a tube down in order to do the stomach pumping. And you received a series of intramuscular shots over the last forty-eight hours. You've been through quite a bit, Rei."

"Stomach pumping? Are you saying I overdosed on something?"

"You were poisoned, and we are still trying to determine the poison. I have my own suspicions, because grocers and home cooks do not always store food hygienically. I have seen patients who became seriously I'll ill after eating grilled fish left out overnight on the kitchen table, or even mixed rice dishes left in the rice cooker too long."

"To refrigerate would ruin texture!" Aunt Norie chided, pulling the thermometer from under my arm. She handed it to Tom to read.

"Normal temperature," Tom said. "Did you eat some very old leftovers, Rei? Or perhaps you accidentally bought tainted food at a shop or restaurant?"

I'd had my usual breakfast of toast and tea. I'd skipped lunch but had eaten a few rice cakes that I'd bought from Mr. Waka. "There were some sakura mochi cakes I ate with my client. They came from Family Mart."

"The police found the mochi package in your trash and took it for testing. That seemed to be all right."

"The police went through my garbage?" Even though I imagined it was in my interest, I felt violated.

"Yes, and I promised to call Lieutenant Hata to allow him to question you once you awakened," Tom said.

"I've been telling you all morning that Rei's too weak. Just because she opened her eyes doesn't mean she's ready to speak," my aunt defended.

"If we don't find out where she bought the poisonous food, more people in the city could become I'll or even die," Tom lectured. "It is her citizen's duty to share information."

I agreed with him, although I wasn't a Japanese citizen, and I didn't particularly feel like seeing Lieutenant Hata. All I really wanted was a hot bath. Standing up, I was still so unsteady that I had to have Aunt Norie help me to my bathroom.