The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (17 page)

‘Blank?’ I asked.

‘Go inside. Remain hidden.’

‘Yes, I know. What else?’

‘Keep to your stories or make compliments. Only pleasing words. Let your mouth be like your nose.’ She pinched it and grinned.

This was like my mother saying, ‘Show no emotion, say nothing and do even less,’ but now I had to do things that were painful, repugnant – and impure.

I lit candles to ask my ancestors for help. Except for the blood defilements in practice, once touching Tashiko during her cycle, and being in the Village of Outcasts, I had been pure for a long time. Tashiko recited the
sutra
for longevity, to ward off any danger. The next day she dressed me as the emperor’s daughter in the story. I wore three kimonos – a red under-kimono, a bright blue one with small designs of feathers and, last, a painted one with pink and orange peonies. Tashiko steered me to Madam Hitomi’s greeting room in Main House. Harsh makeup stung my face. The stiffened cloth of my costume swaddled me as if I were encased to my neck in thick, scratchy mud.

Tashiko motioned for me to go into Main House. I wanted to squeeze her hand for luck, but it was too late. As I entered the room, I hid my trembling hands. I could not dishonour myself.

Peering into Madam Hitomi’s room for the second time was like seeing into a large snake’s hole – the darkened room, the glint of Hitomi’s eyes among all her cats’ faces, wondering if she would scratch me with her fingernails again. The man sat on pillows, as huge as Chiba, and was dressed in brocade – a dazzling green, red and yellow design. He lifted his face from one of the picture books. ‘Spin around.’

As I did so, he spoke to Madam Hitomi: ‘Much more beautiful than you told me. I am quite pleased.’

I worked to help my eyes blank, but I bowed at the compliment, remembering to keep my mouth empty, like my nose and my eyes.

The man did not acknowledge my bow, but stated formally, ‘I understand this is a first time. I will do my best. Perhaps a serving girl should wait, as may be correct.’

‘I appreciate your generosity and your thoughtfulness,’ Hitomi replied. I had little idea of what they spoke. The words ‘generosity’ and ‘thoughtfulness’ had always related to pleasant things.

As I followed this man to one of the special houses behind Main House, Tashiko walked behind me. I was younger. I should have gone last.

Tashiko went inside and lit an oil lamp on its own table in a far corner; the doorway provided the only natural light. The man continued into the room and I trailed after him. Tashiko had not mentioned the house’s luxury compared to my sleeping hut or even Lesser House.

The mats formed a floor, which looked like the blackened green of a
kemari
field below rainclouds. The
futon
and cushions matched in a slightly darker green. A jug and bowl, both trimmed in a deep sea-green, nestled near the lit brazier at the back. A bamboo stand on the other side stood with its arms held out like a starving person reaching for an embrace.

Tashiko turned to me and breathed, ‘I will be outside afterwards.’ She warned me again, ‘No speaking unless asked, except for your story.’ She bowed to the man, rubbed the back of my hand lightly, and left me alone.

I rehearsed in my mind what I had been told: remain mute; do whatever I was told; pretend enjoyment, no matter what happened; show respect, as if this man were Proprietor Chiba. My eyes could not meet his.

V. The Exceptions

The man sat on the
futon
and bade me stand in front of him. His lips formed a straight line. ‘What is your name?’

‘My name is Kozaishō,’ I replied formally, and stared at the floor. Even with my head down, I could feel his eyes probing me.

He smoothed my garment, running his hands over the sleeves, the back and the front. He murmured, ‘Kozaishō,’ and said, ‘Little empress,’ from the story again and again. He sounded like a hissing cat with its back arched. My stomach tightened into claws. Remembering Tashiko’s instructions, I meekly showed gladness where none lived.

The man patted the
futon
, saying, ‘Sit here so that I can hear your beautiful story more clearly.’ He held me around my waist as I climbed beside the brocade covering his wide lap. ‘We do not want to crush your beautiful kimono. Let me help you loosen it, my little empress.’ Since he had not requested that I speak, I said nothing. He loosened and removed my outer kimono. Grasping each sleeve between the two fingers of each hand, he pulled it off me, sauntered to the other side of the hut and laid it on top of his robe. My kimono hovered, like a ghost, over the bamboo clothing stand.

He came back and motioned me to sit on his lap. He opened each of my other kimonos, carefully smoothing each garment. He stroked my chest and pulled my kimonos up over my thighs. His face changed from pale gold to red; his skin from dry to beaded and moist.

I shivered with my kimonos open, and he drew me towards him. He made no effort to straighten or pull down my robes. However, he warmed my legs by rubbing them, which I appreciated.

I wanted to adjust my clothes, but I remembered Tashiko’s warning about my mouth and nose. The man continued to rub my hips. ‘Tell me your wonderful empress story,’ he crooned.

I told each part. I left nothing out and worked my hands and face to emphasise the emotions, as I had practised. The man kept moving his hands, making it difficult to focus.

I came to a funny part. I laughed as the empress laughed, and he placed one hand on my lap and one on my chest. They stayed there after I had finished laughing. When his hands did not go to my sides, my stomach pinched. I took in a breath and let it out with a sigh.

‘Ah, you like my touching you!’ He cackled, with a wide smile. One of his hands scraped my nipples while the other grated my stomach, as if he were preparing vegetables.

Untying himself, the man strode across the hut, tossing garments over the bamboo stand until my kimono disappeared. He sauntered back to me. His hanging belly almost covered his Jade Stalk, which wavered back and forth, like the
bokken
of a novice boy.

He grabbed me with a hand on each side of my waist. He picked me up, rubbed his face across my chest and stomach. His eyebrows and moustache pricked my skin. Next he man pushed my legs apart, thrust a finger into me and pulled it out. He pushed me down on the
futon
and promptly pierced me with his Jade Stalk. I gasped in shock and surprise.

I had cried out! So quickly I had forgotten. Fortunately the man chortled. Perhaps he thought it was a gratification sound.

He grabbed my breast with one hand. Grunting, he shoved the other hand under my buttocks and repeatedly punctured me. The stabbing took a long time.

At my request Tashiko scrubbed me red to remove the man’s assaults. Later in my hut I cried in Tashiko’s arms, my stomach twisting hard.

‘I am sorry I did not explain.’ Tashiko put hand on each shoulder and looked into my eyes. ‘I remember my first time with Goro, the ugliness . . . no gentleness.’

‘Goro? Goro! What in the name of all the demons do you mean?’

‘Well, I was the oldest. He waits. Until we are older.’ Tashiko blinked several times.

Bile lurched into my mouth. ‘Goro did that to you?’

‘Every time Proprietor Chiba was gone.’

Her shoulders hunched, and I saw her as a small girl. ‘How could he do that?’

‘You were sent away. Remember? First I performed the dance with two fans for him. He liked that.’

‘Yes. He asked me too.’

‘Then . . . he took me.’ Her body slumped. ‘I truly regret not telling you about the first time. Goro said it was his right, his privilege. I thought he had done the same with you.’

I stood up. ‘How could you not tell me?’

‘Goro ordered me to say nothing to
anyone
. He said it was a special arrangement between him and Proprietor Chiba.’

Sore as I was, I stormed around the hut, ready to hit something, pull hair, or go to the practice field with my
naginata, bokken
or bow. ‘Special arrangement!’ I said, gritting my teeth and pounding my feet on the floor.

‘Proprietor Chiba owned me. It is honourable to do whatever your master wishes. They may do with us as they will.’

‘Not with me!’

Tashiko waited. Finally I sat down close to her and said, ‘Chiba and Goro are in a conspiracy together.’

‘Not truly a conspiracy, Kozaishō. I know Akio has taught you the Eight-fold Noble Path and the Four Noble Truths of Buddha, especially that “All life is suffering.”’

‘That’s the one I hate.’

Her lips smiled, but her eyes were sorrowful. ‘You may not always feel so. Chiba owned me, meaning he had the power of life and death over me. Whatever he allowed Goro to do, was, is, part of my
inago
.’

‘What did he do?’

‘You have experienced what Chiba likes, not only the hitting but the listening to pain. Goro has somehow come to love what was done to him in the monastery where he was raised.’

‘You have not told me what it was!’

‘Kozaishō, he loves to torture and rape. These bring him – fulfilment.’ She shook her head as if amazed by what she was telling me. ‘It is the only way he is satisfied.’

I rose to my knees, my body stiff with disgust and horror. ‘The only way? The only way!’

‘Perhaps I injured him in a previous life,’ Tashiko murmured, to the floor.

I put my arms around her, tears of outrage and love pouring, a heavy rain. ‘Accepting evil as due to oneself from a prior life is against what the Goddess of Mercy upholds!’

‘Not true. Let me tell you the story.’ Tashiko began:

‘Omaro came from the village of Kamo and was conscripted as a frontier soldier for three years. His mother accompanied him and lived with him, while his wife stayed behind to take care of the house. Omaro, for love of his wife, thought up the wicked idea of killing his mother and returning home, claiming the compassion due to mourning. However, his mother’s mind, as usual, was set on doing good. He said, “There will be a week’s lecture on the scriptures in the eastern mountains. Shall we go?”

‘His mother was eager to go. When alone together, he looked at her fiercely and demanded, “You, kneel on the ground!”

‘“Why are you talking like that, my son? Are you possessed by a fiend?”

‘The son drew a sword to kill her. She knelt and said, “We plant a tree to obtain its fruit, its shade and shelter. We bring up children to obtain their help and depend on them. The tree I nurtured has suddenly ceased to protect me from the rain.”

‘When the wicked son stepped closer to cut off his mother’s head, the earth opened to swallow him. His mother grabbed her son’s hair, appealed to Heaven, and wailed, “My child is possessed, driven to such evil!” Despite her efforts, he fell.

She brought his hair home and held funeral rites, putting the hair in a box in front of the Buddha’s image and asking monks’ prayers for her son.

‘The mother’s compassion and love were so great for her evil son, she practised good on his behalf,’ Tashiko concluded. ‘Indeed, we know that the unaffectionate wrongdoings of a child are punished at once, but evil deeds
never
go without penalty. Never.’

I shared with her what had happened to me with Goro. Telling my tale lessened the anger I had felt for Tashiko, but not that for Goro or Chiba.

‘I cannot believe you broke his nose.’ She shook her head, snorting with laughter.

‘Yes.’ I showed all my teeth, pleased with myself. ‘You should have seen the blood spurting down his clothes.’

Tashiko’s eyes widened. ‘He loves his clothes. He must have hated that.’

‘Oh, yes, and I think his nose will always be crooked.’

She placed her arms around me, stroking my hair. ‘Easier after this.’ She sighed. ‘No more surprises.’

I looked up into her face. ‘No more secrets.’

‘The Women-for-Play
ch
ō
ja
. The leader. A tenth of each gift goes to her. Any big changes, need to ask.’

‘Which one is she?’

‘Rin.’

‘That other ugly old one? The one with not as many wrinkles?’

‘Yes. Lie down. I will rub your back. “The Medicine King” from the Lotus Sutra.’ I put my head in her lap. She leaned over, brushed away the tears around my eyes, and recited. ‘“It is said that she who accepts and follows this will never again be born a woman.”’ Our eyes smiled.

There were many other men. Several did not wait until I had finished the story. Yet because I became known as the teller of tales and the singer of modern songs, I slowly acquired an elevated class of customer. Tashiko often gave me knowing smiles when she saw the coin or two a wealthier man had left on the bamboo stand or on top of a kimono. Every time I received such a gift, I donated part to the Great-Heaven-Shining Deity, to secure good harvests for my family. Tashiko’s ways differed, and she taught me to pray to the Buddha.

Many other things had to change as well.