The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (19 page)

This brought a tiny glint to her eyes. It soon went out. ‘I could not, Kozaishō. I must do as my master requests.’

‘We have the same owner. She wishes you to heal. She ordered me to help you. Did you not tell me it is honourable to do as our master wishes?’

More tears, but she agreed.

I do not think I could have lived with her as an
eta
. That, or work as a lowly serving girl, would have been all that was left to her. I needed her with me.

She allowed me to attend to her. No cloth touched her skin because I had to apply salve to all her injuries. If covered, wounds festered, with greater danger of scarring.

Spring rains played drums on the ceiling. Hitomi gave us only a little charcoal, not enough to heat both of our huts. The meagre amount was enough to keep one hut warm. She rested with me, her
futon
next to mine. Too warm with clothes, I also slept without.

Nights were worse than days. Turning in her sleep awakened her, and her soft cries awakened me. Bodily functions were unbearable because of gashes to her Jade Gate. She did well, though, grimacing and making little noise. I fed her cooled rice water, as she had done for me. Tears formed in her eyes as she ate because her lips had been slashed.

To relax her, I combed her hair gently. I brushed her arms with my fingertips, rubbed her feet and stroked her face where there were no gashes.

Tashiko reminded me that the Buddha said all life was suffering. Then how could nothing be real? I saw her true suffering – yet she said all was transitory. I knew that eventually she would heal. Perhaps that was what she had meant.

I read ‘The Bodhisattva Medicine King’ to her and recited ‘The Constellation King Flower’, which said that if a woman heard that chapter and understood it, she would never be born in a woman’s body again. At least, that was what Tashiko said.

Days later, Tashiko’s fever gone, Hitomi and Rin came to check again. They scrutinised her body and the quality of my care.

Rin wanted to know when Tashiko could go back to work.

Hitomi said, mostly to herself, ‘Yakamashita knew better than to scar you. But even if you do scar, we could probably sell you. With your clothes on, no one will know you are damaged.’ She left, mumbling to herself, ‘He has cost me much in the past . . .’

At this, Tashiko’s salty tears on her injuries made her twitch in pain and opened the torrent of my anger. Sell her? They had better not. I would not lose her.

‘I will be vigilant,’ I promised her, and promised myself that I would keep my temper, holding her less badly cut hand.

‘Perhaps my destiny is to be disfigured. If I am, I will accept it,’ she said.

I would not accept it. To reassure her, I repeatedly read the part where the Medicine King burned his arms: ‘He said, “I throw away both my arms, yet I am assured I will regain the golden body of the Buddha.” His arms were restored instantly.’

This passage calmed Tashiko, so I read it every day.

After working so hard on the Noble Path, she was receiving all this pain! ‘How could Hitomi allow such a low worm to do such wickedness? And to you!’ I said. ‘You have talent. You had earned a place with the higher-caste customers, as I have.’

Tashiko stared at me.

‘How could Hitomi be so foolish, so wasteful as to throw you to Yakamashita?’ I asked Tashiko.

‘Greed. Jealousy. Of what others have.’ Tashiko pushed her eyebrows up, blanching. After a few breaths she said, ‘Every livelihood does not lead to the other seven of the Eight-fold Path. But the first seven of the Eight-fold Path lead to Right Livelihood.’

I looked at her. How odd. ‘That is exactly what Akio told me before we came here.’

‘Inflicting pain deliberately on others creates
karma
.’ Tashiko took small sips of water so she could talk more. ‘When Madam Hitomi values Yakamashita’s wealth most, she creates her own
inago
.’ She turned to a new position on the
futon
and grimaced with a deep grunt.

I patted her lightly where there were no wounds. ‘What about Yakamashita’s
inago
?’

‘Life’s suffering cannot be avoided. To impose it deliberately on others can be risky. Whatever a person created in this life, he will meet that
inago
in the next.’

‘What really happened?’ I had not dared to ask before.

Tashiko drank some water. She asked without words.

‘No. He was never a client of mine. I have never met him.’ I sighed with gratitude.

‘Wiry but quite strong. Quite wealthy. Very long fingernails. Requested Tongue Cut Sparrow. Close to the end, but before miracle, I said, “The unkind wife cut the tongue of her husband’s favourite sparrow because it ate her rice paste.” His face flushed. Dark cinnabar. He breathed in. Hit me. Shouted. Called me an evil sparrow. “Evil! Evil!” He beat me. First hands. Fists. Nails. Those nails. Until I could not move. I do not remember when he finished.’

Sympathetic tears raced down my cheeks. I wished I had a spear to throw into Yakamashita’s heart. I wondered if I would have fought back, even though it was strictly forbidden.

‘Did you remember not to make a sound?’ I recalled what some of the more experienced Women-for-Play had told us.

Tashiko nodded.

‘Did you react to the blows? Any reaction causes more rage.’

‘I tried not to.’

We sat quiet for a time.

‘Recite “The Medicine King”. It provides relief from pain to all the living.’ Tashiko’s eyes smiled, the only part of her that did not hurt when it moved.

Such foolishness, I thought, but I read, ‘“Just as the thirsty are satisfied with a sweet, clear water, just as the freezing are warmed by fire . . .”’ I gave her water and stroked her forehead ‘“. . . a boat at a river crossing, an emperor for a people, a light that replaces all darkness.”’

‘So,’ Tashiko whispered, ‘the Lotus Sutra removes all suffering, all illness. It releases us from the
karma
of mortal life.’

I tried to believe as she believed, but could not. This
sutra
did not truly remove her pain, although I certainly desired it for her.

There was no honour here with these defilements, the blood and afflictions. Had I failed my family? Where could I find honour?

BOOK 6

I. A Bright Time

When Tashiko’s wounds no longer bled, I visited Main House and requested Purification rites. ‘Because of the blood,’ Tashiko had explained, when she asked for this.

I returned to tell her the bad news, my body tense with the fury of a cornered cat. ‘Daigoro no Goro is now the priest from Uji. He will come.’

Tashiko shook her head. ‘He performs the Purification rites here for women who give birth. Madam Hitomi boasted to us that she had obtained priests from both the Tendai Sect
and
the Taira Clan for her girls.’

‘I cannot believe that, with all the priests around here, he is the one.’ I wondered whether my
bokken
would be welcome at the ceremony.

We prepared for Purification with Abstention and Cleansing. We ate no food and drank only water for two days and two nights. Tashiko’s stomach rumbled, and by the first evening her breath smelt sour. I had not eaten much while I took care of her, and my stomach was quieter with only the water.

The next morning we went to the Purification hut. Tashiko scattered a pinch of salt in each of the four directions of the bath. We scrubbed, rinsed and soaked.

‘I wish to thank you, my dear friend, for all your hard work.’

‘No need.’ I prodded her with my toes. ‘I am happy you are finally well. Besides, no men.’ I relaxed in the water at the thought, but our eyes danced together.

We dressed in our best robes and went to a special place near the birthing hut. My empty stomach knotted itself into a hard ball and battered inside me. I saw Goro.

The damaged nose lay askew in the middle of that bird face. His thin hair was combed flat against his skull, as courtiers wore it. His clothes were made of fine silk and carefully arranged. His eyes were hostile.

Hitomi walked back to Main House and nodded to Goro before he entered the hut. In one hand he carried a small
nusa
, with only three white cloth strips attached to its short handle. His empty hand motioned to us, and we made the five-point bow.

‘May the Goddess Seori-tsu-hime, who lives in the white waters of swift-flowing rivers, purify you and grant you swift-flowing forgiveness.’ He lifted the
nusa
and brought it down on each of our shoulders, making a slight whistle.

‘May the Goddess Seori-tsu-hime, who lives in the white waters of swift-flowing rivers, send you white-water Cleansing with pure liquid forgiveness.’ He repeated the movements with the
nusa
, then turned to leave.

‘Honourable Daigoro no Goro, please, there is more,’ Tashiko called.

What in the nether world was Tashiko doing?

He spun round on one foot. ‘Do you not trust the Goddess Seori-tsu-hime?’ His lips pressed and puckered together.

‘Honourable Daigoro no Goro, we need to be purified. Completely. I trust the Goddess Seori-tsu-hime.’

‘You have had adequate Purification.’ His eyes gleamed like those of a rat in a night without a moon.

‘I trust the Goddess Seori-tsu-hime,’ Tashiko bit her lip ‘but . . . not you, Daigoro no Goro.’

My shoulders arched up to my ears. I placed my feet in a defensive stance. What would Goro do? ‘I, too, honourable Daigoro no Goro, wish to be fully cleansed and purified.’

‘How dare you question me?’ Goro inclined his head to mine, pushing his free hand towards us, palm down. Next he pointed to me. ‘And how dare you talk of our Buddha?’

Tashiko sat back on her heels. She quoted ‘The Medicine King’ and other parts of the Lotus Sutra to Goro. Each statement reinforced the belief that Nirvana was accessible to all.

Goro’s face flushed darker with each word she spoke, radiating fierceness like lightning strikes. His hands clamped on the
nusa
. It broke with a crack.

Tashiko assumed her five-point bow and sat back again. I imitated her.

‘You will pay – you will both pay – for this insolence. And impropriety. I am no Pure Land prostitute priest. I am Tendai.’ His face flashed evil. He turned and walked out of the hut. ‘Madam Hitomi will know how you broke the
nusa
.’

Bitterness sprang to my lips: ‘Do you know what you have done? What were you thinking?’

She shook her head. Her face had cooled to its usual pallor, despite the warm air in the hut. ‘I needed Purification.’ She forced her breaths, hard and noisy. ‘Tomorrow is the Twenty-third day of the Fifth Month. Where I grew up, we always drank
sake
. Prayed to Kannon-sama, Goddess of Mercy. Prayed to Yakushi Butsu, Buddha of Healing, and especially to Jizō . . . patron of people in Hell . . .’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I just wanted – to be properly cleansed, to worship with you, you and me . . . in the temple. You and me – with the Buddha.’ She bent over, tears gushing, and her chest heaved, like clothes flapping in the wind. I smoothed her head and back until she quieted.

I expected we would be among those who screamed that night, but neither of us received much punishment. I had acquired sufficient favour from Hitomi by soothing her important customers to avoid Hell Hut. She had lost money while I had not worked. Beating me or Tashiko would not be productive.

Tashiko brought out a tiny well-worn book from within her
futon
. ‘This is the
sutra
.’ She sang it in a chanting voice.

I sat on the floor. That Tashiko could treasure an object! Or that she had hidden such a beautiful thing from me, from everyone.

‘This is the
sutra
that says even a woman can reach Buddhahood.’

‘It cannot.’

‘Everyone says that a woman cannot reach Nirvana.’ She leaned over so our noses almost touched. ‘But in here,’ she tapped the book with the pad of her little finger, ‘it says we can.’

Somehow Tashiko found
sake
for the next day. ‘Since the priest did not complete our Purification, we are required to drink this. Because of all the wounds and the blood.’

I did what Tashiko asked, although I still believed as my parents did. We never had
sake
to cleanse blood, only water, rinsing mouths and hands. I promised myself I would do that also.