The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (15 page)

‘Proprietor Chiba was not my master. The Echizen governor was.’

‘Was?’

‘I belong to Madam Hitomi now. You and I were both sold.’

‘Why you?’ He was samurai. He could not be sold. Could he?

‘I spoke rashly to Proprietor Chiba and taught you. He dismissed me so I came here.’ One shoulder twitched. ‘It was because of you,’ he continued. ‘Proprietor Chiba had brought yet another young girl to the
sh
ō
en
.’

‘You had to move away from your family because of me?’ Not only had I dishonoured myself, I had hurt Akio. My cheeks warmed. Tears came to my eyes at the disgrace.

‘No. No shame,’ he continued. ‘I am glad to be here. My family is already here.’

‘You are not? They are?’ My stance changed, like a bush in a drought after the first rain.

‘Especially my girls. They are quite young and I was afraid for them.’ His eyebrows pinched together.

‘I understand, Akio,’ I said, but I did not understand.

‘Proprietor Chiba brought yet another young girl to the
sh
ō
en
, to Lesser House. I could not stand silent any longer.’

‘I regret your outspokenness has brought you to such a place.’

‘I do not, Kozaishō. This Village is safer for my daughters.’

‘How?’

‘Daigoro no Goro does not visit here unsupervised. Here he cannot do . . . what he tried to do with you.’ His face tightened, and he tapped the sheath of his sword.

My mouth opened.

Akio sighed. ‘These low-caste people,’ he gestured first to the little houses and next to where the untouchables lived, ‘recognise my family’s higher status and would never touch one of my children.’

‘You are happy to be here?’

‘Happiness is difficult to find. Remember, lack of want brings contentment. I am content to be here.’

‘What will you do?’

‘I offer security.’ He touched his sword, and his eyes shone in the morning sun. ‘I will not have to worry about my girls. Here, they will not have to endure what you and . . .’ His face turned to stone, and his hands to fists. He placed a palm on each of my shoulders and tightened his fingers into my back. ‘Your presence here brightens my day and my life.’

We stood in silence, thinking of the past. Finally I said, ‘My only wish is to continue with the Way of the Bow.’

‘I am delighted, little one.’ He touched my cheek and stroked my hair. Studying my face, he chuckled.

I smiled.

His eyes sparkled. ‘My wife and three girls are here. You will meet them soon, I expect.’

‘What happiness, contentment, you give me in being here.’ I looked around and saw no one. I moved to give him a quick hug.

He pulled back. ‘No, little one. Not any more.’

‘Why not? No one is looking.’

‘Because it is not suitable.’

‘Why?’

‘This is a different place.’ He sighed. ‘I see you have retained your questioning tactics.’ He pretended a grimace. ‘We both belong to Madam Hitomi now. At the
sh
ō
en
Proprietor Chiba owned you, but the Echizen governor owned me and the
sh
ō
en
. We are changed because our stations have changed.’

I was no different. Was he?

He reached down to ruffle the hair on top of my head. ‘
This
, however, is allowed.’

At his touch, the stiffness that had grasped my chest loosened. A smile travelled from one side of his broad face to the other, a long distance. I breathed again, with comfort.

‘Do you wish to continue your studies with me?’ His eyebrows travelled up his forehead.

I thought for a moment and used formal language. ‘First I must ask permission from Madam Hitomi. If she agrees, I will be with you whenever it suits her and you.’

He squatted so we were face to face. His horse, steel and sweat smells uplifted me, relaxing me with their familiarity.

‘Spoken well.’ His voice sounded sweeter than before, and he tousled my hair again. ‘Loyalty is first. You carry the Way with you. I am proud of you, my beautiful Fifth Daughter. Allow me to ask. I will let you know what Madam Hitomi says.’

On the way to the laundry I remembered how, at first, I was not sure I could find any honour in this impure place. Now, with Akio, I might.

II. Work

Strengthened with possibilities, I met Aya, my work companion, in the shed by the stream. She looked and seemed younger than I, especially in her reasoning. She was like Emi, but slower.

‘How long have you been here?’ I asked, wondering if anyone ever left.

‘Many months.’

Another eternity to me, but I smiled back because she looked so pleased with herself. She had lived near Wakasa, a large city; her father and brothers had fished.

‘What was it like?’

To remember, she closed her eyes and spoke with difficulty. ‘I liked the blue sea with white dots. I liked the crunchy sand.’ She grinned. Her missing front teeth made her adorable, especially when she kept her crossed eyes closed. ‘I did not like the sand fleas biting me.’ She grimaced and slapped her legs, as if she had just been bitten.

Her face showed every emotion. When I said, ‘Faster!’ tears came to her eyes, and her work slowed, so I stopped saying that and worked at her pace.

Fortunately, there were several who took kimono panels apart, several who sewed them together, and a few who flattened them. Aya and I were to scrub, rinse and dry the panels. This task needed two people, and the only two people were she and I. I had to rely on her to teach me what to do so the first day’s work was incomplete.

On the second morning Akio saw me as I went into the shed. He looked around, but I shook my head. Leading me to a dark corner, he squatted and said, ‘Madam Hitomi did not give us permission.’

‘What?’ His words seemed to strangle me. Even with his hands on my shoulders, I felt as though I was falling.

‘You have gone pale, Kozaishō.’

‘The Gods are more important than Madam Hitomi.’ They were, but the Gods’ punishments usually did not make people scream in the night.

‘This is risking much,’ he said, ‘but your white pheasant and dragon cloud are truly powerful. Are you willing to take such danger? Think carefully.’

‘Yes,’ I said, hearing screams, my heart drumming. ‘Yes, I am.’ I did not tell him about the Goddess of Mercy in my special dream.

Akio and I worked out the times and places where we would be hidden. Several nights for the bow, next the
naginata
, the horse, the
bokken
, a combination, and then repeat. Some nights he planned to bring his eldest daughter, a beginner, and much younger than I.

The second day was like the first in the laundry. On the third morning, while I was carrying water, Madam Hitomi came. ‘Finish all the clothing and do it
well
. Today is your third day,’ she snarled like one of her angry cats, but with her black teeth.

Why did she not warn Aya as well?

On the fourth evening she grabbed me and marched me to a little house behind Main House, the direction from which Tashiko and I had heard screams. Hitomi would look good with her whitened face hit, broken and bleeding. I saw my
bokken
, remembering the sting in my arm as it had crashed into Goro’s nose. Where else could they send me? To the
eta
? At the thought my body throbbed and trembled.

Sweat ran down my spine and dripped off the back of my legs, despite the raw breeze through the camphor trees. My feet slipped on the slick mat of soggy, icy leaves. Hitomi pulled me into that little house. My family’s honour. What could I do to uphold it?

Whips and metal objects hung on the wall, like a ferocious animal’s fangs. The only other objects were a stool, a small brazier, with waves of heat showing in the cool air, and a plain table with many attached leather strips.

‘Put all your clothes on this cloth.’ She pointed to a corner. ‘Lie on the table, on your back.’

The frigid evening gusts pushed through the walls. I thought about my
bokken
again, inside my
furoshiki
.

Lying on the cold table, which was too short even for me, my arms and legs swung down and the edges cut into my skin. I wondered if she was going to examine me as she had before. It would be difficult to pretend to be a frog in this position. She might have said this was a family, but I hated her more than I had ever hated Fourth Daughter.

‘Tashiko has learned obedience.’ She grinned with her red-rimmed black teeth.

I raised my eyes to the ceiling to calm myself, but the ropes and pulleys I saw slung above made me breathe faster. By the time I returned my eyes to Hitomi, she had tied an arm and one leg to the table legs with the strips. I had thought to admire her managing skills. That was my mistake.

‘Oh, yes. I know about the priest, Daigoro no Goro.’ She stood upright and stretched, then finished tying my other leg. She sucked in her breath, almost hissing as he had done. ‘Proprietor Chiba sent me a letter.’

My limbs quivered at these names.

‘Tonight is the consequence of not accomplishing your tasks. Do you understand? You may have fought before, but any rebellious actions here will mean severe punishments for you and
others
.’

‘Yes, honourable Madam Hitomi,’ I managed to stammer. My words made white smoke above me. My teeth clicked in the cold until I pressed them together, hard.

‘Good. Today will help to remind you.’

She pulled down a metal prod from the wall and brought it close to my face. It had a wooden handle at one end and an arrow-like tip at the other. She turned to the brazier and shoved the tip into it.

‘You must complete all the work each day.’ She left the brazier to lean over me again. ‘Yes,’ she said, as she sniffed the air. ‘My little reminder is ready.’

I smelt it, too. The scent of metal burning, smouldering. I shivered with dread and cold.

The prod’s end glowed in the murky room. The bright point followed my features. The heat, with my eyes shut, was both pleasant and paralysing. I pretended I was in combat and she the enemy. She was. I breathed through my nose and willed my eyes open. I also willed myself not to flinch.

She moved the prod down from my face. Lifting one of my hands, she moved it closer until it almost touched the lower edge of my little finger’s nail. Warmer, hot, scorching. Piercing pain raced through my hand, arm and up to my head until my eyeballs felt as if they would burst. I opened my mouth and closed it, biting my tongue, tasting hot iron, swallowing blood.

The prod went back to my face. Hitomi’s eyes glinted in its red light. I prayed she would not require me to speak. I had almost bitten through my tongue, gulping and swallowing more blood. If she went again, I needed another target.

She did. Same hand. Same nail. I bit the inside of my cheek until a piece of it hung in my mouth. Raw, squeezing, stabbing pain boiled every part of my body.

But I made no sound.

‘Dress. Finish all your work tomorrow.’ She united my arms and left.

This fiend was worse than Chiba and Goro together. Not carry my
bokken
? Not be ready to hit back? Or run? Or all three? At that moment I was ready to kill.

That night I prayed to the Goddess of Mercy because the work seemed impossible. The next morning I did as the Goddess had shown me in a special dream.

I made sure that Aya and I carried the water to the big kettles before our morning meal, quite early. I made our rice into balls to carry with us throughout the day as we worked. While I was scrubbing, I told the story of the Greedy Hawk, but only a little at a time.

‘Long ago and far away, the largest of the birds, the eagle, became caught in the fork of a tree.’

Aya’s crossed eyes grew wider as her mouth opened in awe.

‘He worked and worked, but could not free himself. Other birds came and pulled on him to help. They pulled on his feathers. One by one, all his feathers came out until he was completely bare.’

Here I demonstrated. Aya and I played this out by pulling at the clothes faster to clean them. We finished in a shorter time. Concentrating on Aya, our speed and the story helped me to forget my pain from the night before.

‘A large crow flew by. He saw the eagle. “That is no way to help.” The crow told half of the birds to fly to the right branches of the fork and the other half to the left. With the weight of all the birds, the fork of the tree split and freed the eagle.’

I stood on one side and Aya on the other of each panel. Each ‘bird’ became cloth on a drying branch. She performed this task quicker than before. By the end of the day, all the washed clothing, spread on branches, looked like some odd quilt I might have sewn.

For Aya I invented tales in which women fled from make-believe terrors. We escaped or saved lives by beating our way out of pretend bushes and scrubbing clothes. When we dug ourselves out of make-believe tunnels, water buckets moved faster. Ghosts, especially the recently dead
yurei
, chasing the living, trees blowing in a storm created by a demon, mountains climbed step by step to escape some horrible fate, sometimes even the stately robes of princes and princesses: all became part of our daily work. Every day I remembered a new story, invented one or varied an old one.