Death in Midsummer & Other Stories (12 page)

She waited for the man with the hands of Buddha to ask her to raise the blind that separated her from him. Presently he would ask her; and then she would remove the barrier and her incomparably beautiful body would appear before him as it had on that day by the edge of the lake at Shiga; and she would invite him to come in.

The Great Imperial Concubine waited.

But the priest of Shiga Temple did not utter a word. He asked 83

her for nothing. After a while his old hands relaxed their grip and the lady's snow-white hand was left alone in the dawn light.

The priest departed. The heart of the Great Imperial Concubine turned cold.

A few days later a rumour reached the Court that the Great Priest's spirit had achieved its final liberation in his cell at Shiga.

At this news the lady of Kyogoku set to copying the Sutras in roll after roll of beautiful writing.

Translated by Ivan Morris

At half past eleven on the night of the September full moon, as soon as the party at which they had been entertaining broke up, Koyumi and Kanako returned to the Laurel House and at once slipped into cotton kimonos. They would really have preferred to bathe before setting out again, but they had no time tonight.

Koyumi was forty-two, a plump little figure, barely five feet tall, wrapped in a white kimono patterned with black leaves.

Kanako, the other geisha, though only twenty-two and quite a good dancer, had no patron and seemed fated never to be assigned a decent part in the annual spring and autumn geisha dances. Her crepe kimono was dyed dark-blue whirls on white.

Kanako spoke. 'I wonder what design Masako's kimono will be tonight?'

'Clover, you can be sure. She's desperate to have a baby.'

'Has she gone that far, then?'

That's the trouble - she hasn't,' Koyumi answered. 'She's still a long way from success. What a Virgin Mary that'd make her - getting a baby from a man simply from having a crush on him!' - There is a common superstition among the geishas that a woman who wears a summer kimono with a clover pattern or a winter kimono with a landscape design will soon become pregnant.

When at last they were ready to leave, Koyumi felt the sudden pangs of hunger. It happened every time she set out on the evening's round of parties, but she felt as if hunger were always an unexpected catastrophe striking without warning from the blue. She was never bothered by hunger while appearing before customers, no matter how boring the party 85

might be, but, before and after she performed, the hunger which she had quite forgotten would assail her like a sudden fit.

Koyumi could never prepare for this eventuality by eating appropriately at a suitable time. Sometimes, for example, when she went in the evening to the hairdresser, she would see the other geishas of the neighbourhood ordering a meal and eating it with relish as they waited their turn. But the sight produced no impression on Koyumi. She didn't even think that the
risotto,
or whatever the dish was, might taste good. And yet, an hour later, hunger pangs would suddenly strike, and the saliva would gush like a hot spring from the roots of her small, strong teeth.

Koyumi and Kanako paid a monthly bill to the Laurel House for publicity and for their meals. Koyumi's meal bill had always been exceptionally large. Not only was she a heavy eater, but she was finicky in her tastes. But, as a matter of fact, ever since she developed her eccentric habit of feeling hungry only before and after appearances, her food bill had gradually been decreasing, and it threatened now to drop below Kanako's.

Koyumi had no recollection of when this eccentric habit had originated, nor of when she first made it her practice to stop by the kitchen before the first party of the evening to demand, all but dancing with impatience, 'Haven't you a little something I can eat?' It was now her custom to take her dinner in the kitchen of the first house, and her supper in the kitchen of the last house of the evening. Her stomach had attuned itself to this routine, and her food bill at the Laurel House had accordingly dwindled.

The Ginza was already deserted as the two geisha started walking towards the Yonei House in Shimbashi. Kanako pointed up at the sky over a bank with metal blinds barring the windows. 'We're lucky it's clear, aren't we? You can really see the man in the moon tonight.'

Koyumi's thoughts were only for her stomach. Her first party tonight had been at Yonei's and her last at the Fuminoya.

She realized now that she should have eaten supper at the Fuminoya before starting out, but there had been no time. She had rushed right back to the Laurel House to change. She would 86

have to ask for supper at their destination, Vonei's, in the same kitchen where she had eaten dinner that evening. The thought weighed on her.

But Koyumi's anxiety was dispelled as soon as she stepped inside the kitchen door at Yonei's. Masako, the much-sheltered daughter of the owner, was standing by the entrance waiting for them. She wore the clover-patterned kimono which they had predicted. Seeing Koyumi, she tactfully called out, 'I didn't expect you so soon. We're in no hurry - come in and have a bit of supper before you go.'

The kitchen was littered with odds and ends from the evening's entertainments. Enormous stacks of plates and bowls glared in the unshaded electric lights. Masako stood with one hand braced against the frame of the door, her body blocking the light and her face dark in the shadows. The light did not reach Koyumi's face, and she was glad that her momentary expression of relief when Masako called to her had passed unnoticed.

While Koyumi was eating supper, Masako led Kanako to her room. Of all the geisha who came to the Yonei House, Kanako was the one she got along with best. She and Masako were the same age, had gone to elementary school together, and were about equally good-looking. But, more important than any of these reasons, the fact was that she somehow liked Kanako.

Kanako was so demure she looked as if the least wind would blow her over, but she had accumulated all the experience she needed, and a carelessly uttered word from her sometimes did Masako a world of good. The high-spirited Masako, on the other hand, was timid and childish when it came to love.

Her childishness was a matter of common gossip, and her mother was so sure of the girl's innocence that she had not given it a second thought when Masako ordered a kimono with a clover design.

Masako was a student in the Arts Department at Waseda University. She had always been an admirer of R, the movie actor, but ever since he had visited Yonei's her passion for him had been mounting. Her room was now cluttered with pictures of him. She had ordered a white china vase enamelled with the 87

photograph of R and herself taken on the memorable occasion of his visit. It stood on her desk, filled with flowers.

Kanako said when she was seated, 'They announced the cast today.' She twisted her thin little mouth into a frown.

'Did they?' Masako, sorry for Kanako, pretended not to know.

'All I got was a bit part again. I'll never get anything better.

It's enough to discourage me for good. I feel like a girl in a musical who stays in the chorus year after year.'

'I'm sure you'll get a good part next year.'

Kanako shook her head. 'In the meantime I'm getting old.

Before you know it, I'll be like Koyumi.'

'Don't be silly. You've still got twenty years ahead of you.'

It would not have been proper in the course of this conversation for either girl to mention what she would be praying for tonight, but even without asking each already knew the other's prayers. Masako wanted an affair with R; Kanako a good patron; and they both knew that Koyumi' wanted money.

Their prayers, it was clear, would have quite different objects, all eminently reasonable. If the moon failed to grant these wishes, the moon and not they would be at fault. Their hopes showed plainly and honestly on their faces, and theirs were such truly human desires that anyone seeing the three women walking in the moonlight would surely be convinced that the moon would have no choice but to recognize their sincerity and grant their wishes.

Masako spoke. 'We'll have one more coming along tonight.'

'Not really? Who?'

'A maid. Her name's Mina, and she came from the country a month ago. I told Mother I didn't want her coming with me, but Mother said she'd worry if she didn't send somebody along.'

Kanako asked, 'What's she like?'

'Just wait till you see her. She's what you'd call well-developed.'

88

At that moment Mina opened the sliding doors behind them and, still standing, poked in her head.

'I thought I told you that when you open sliding doors you're supposed to kneel down first and then open them.' Masako's tone was haughty.

'Yes, miss.' Mina's coarse, heavy voice seemed to reflect nothing of Masako's feelings. Kanako had to restrain a laugh at Mina's appearance. She wore a one-piece dress made up of strange bits and patches of kimono material. Her hair was set in a rumpled permanent wave, and her extraordinarily brawny arms showing through her sleeves rivalled her face in duskiness.

Her heavy features were crushed under the swollen mass of her cheeks, and her eyes were like slits. No matter which way she chose to shut her mouth, one or another of her irregular teeth protruded. It was difficult to uncover any expression in that face.

'Quite a bodyguard!' Kanako murmured into Masako's ear. Masako forced a severe expression to her face. 'You're sure you understand? I've told you already, but I'll tell you once more. From the minute we set foot out of this house you're not to open your mouth, no matter what happens, until we've crossed all seven bridges. Even one word and you won't get whatever you're praying for. And if anybody you know talks to you, you're out of luck, but I don't suppose there's much danger of that in your case. One more thing. You're not allowed to go back over the same road twice. Anyway, Koyumi will be leading. All you have to do is follow.'

At the university Masako had to submit reports on the novels of Marcel Proust, but when it came to matters of this nature the modern education she had received at school deserted her completely.

'Yes, miss,' Mina answered. It was by no means clear whether or not she had actually understood.

'You've got to come along anyway; you might as well make a wish. Have you thought of something?'

'Yes, miss,' Mina said, a smile slowly spreading over her face.

89

'Why, she acts like everybody else!' commented Kanako.

Koyumi appeared at that moment, cheerfully patting her midriff. 'I'm all set now.'

'Have you picked good bridges for us?' asked Masako.

'We'll start with Miyoshi Bridge. It goes over two rivers, so it counts as two bridges. Doesn't that make things easier? Pretty clever of me, if I must say so.'

The three women, aware that once they stepped outside they would be unable to utter another word, began to talk loudly and all at once, as if to discharge a great accumulation of chatter. The chatter continued until they had reached the kitchen door. Masako's black-lacquered geta were waiting for her oh the earthen floor by the door. As her bare feet stepped into the geta, her polished and manicured toenails gave off a a lustre faintly visible in the dark. Koyumi exclaimed, That's real style!

Nail rouge and black geta - not even the moon can resist you now!'

' "Nail rouge!" That dates you, Koyumi!'

'I know the word. "Mannequin", isn't it?'

Masako and Kanako, exchanging glances, burst out laughing. The four women stepped out on to Showa Avenue, Koyumi leading them. They passed a parking lot where a great many taxis, their work ended for the day, reflected the moonlight from their black chassis. The cries of insects could be heard from under the cars. Traffic was still heavy on Showa Avenue, but the street itself was fast asleep, and the roar of passing motor-cycles sounded lonely and isolated without the accompaniment of the usual street noises.

A few scraps of cloud drifted in the sky under the moon, now and then touching the heavy bank of cloud girdling the horizon.

The moon shone unobscured. At breaks in the traffic noises the clatter of their geta seemed to rebound straight from the pavement to the hard blue surface of the sky.

Koyumi walking ahead of the others, was pleased that only a broad, deserted street lay before her. It was Koyumi's boast that she had always got along without depending on anyone, and she was glad that her stomach was full. She couldn't under-90

stand, as she walked happily along why she was so anxious to have more money. Koyumi felt as if her real wish was to melt gently and meaninglessly into the moonlight falling on the pavement ahead of her. Splinters of glass glittered in cracks in the sidewalk. Even bits of glass could glitter in the moonlight - it made her wonder if her long-standing wish were not something like that broken glass.

Masako and Kanako, their little fingers hooked, trod on the long shadow Koyumi trailed behind her. The night air was cool, and they both felt the faint breeze penetrate their sleeves, chill-ing and tightening their breasts damp with perspiration from excitement over their departure. Through linked fingers their prayers were communicated, the more eloquently because no words were spoken.

Masako was picturing to herself R's sweet voice, his long, finely drawn eyes, his locks curling under the temples. She, the daughter of the owner of a first-class restaurant in Shimbashi, was not to be lumped together with his other fans - she saw no reason why her prayer could not be granted. She remembered that when R spoke, his breath, falling on her ear, had been fragrant, not smelling in the least of liquor. She remembered that young, manly breath, heavy with the sultriness of summer hay. If such recollections came to her when she was alone, she felt something like a ripple of water slide over her skin from her knees to the thighs. She was as certain - yet as uncertain - that R's body existed somewhere in the world of the accuracy of her recurring memories. The element of doubt constantly tortured her. Kanako was dreaming of a rich, fat, middle-aged man. He would have to be fat or he wouldn't really seem rich. How happy she would be, she thought, if she could shut her eyes and feel herself engulfed by his generous, unstinted protection!