Authors: Shirley Parenteau
Chiyo picked up Emily Grace and straightened her kimono. She had pictured a grand return with the doll repaired and everyone impressed. Now the others scarcely noticed.
“We will go to my office,” Headmaster said. “Gentlemen, this way please. You three, too,” he added to Chiyo and the other two girls.
Hoshi shot a warning look at Shizuko, who looked scared but defiant.
“Too late,” Chiyo told Hoshi. “Everyone knows.”
As Headmaster continued to clear away curious girls, Yamada-san told Chiyo, “You don’t have to stay, little sister. We can leave right now.”
The offer tempted her. She wanted to leave the school, to let all that had happened fade into the past. She looked at the doll maker. His expression was hard to read, but she felt she knew his thoughts. He believed that she should stay.
“Headmaster may have questions for me,” she said, deciding. “And I want to be sure the truth is told.”
Hirata-san’s eyes warmed with approval. “She is a brave girl,” he told Yamada-san. “Brave enough to see this matter through.”
Realizing that the men had not met, Chiyo said quickly, “This is the doll artist Hirata Gouyou-san. And this is Yamada Nori-san, who plans to marry my sister.”
After all that had happened, she almost expected him to say, “In a thousand years, you could not convince me to marry your sister.” But she saw that he had come to support her, not to criticize.
After inviting the men into his office, Headmaster turned. “You three girls wait here. I do not want to hear a sound from any of you.”
They each chose a section of wall to wait against. Chiyo stood near Hirata Gouyou’s drawing of her, fearing that Hoshi still might try to destroy it.
Hoshi stood as far from Chiyo and Shizuko as possible, looking as if she had paused there by accident.
At last, Headmaster Hanarai opened the door for Hirata-san. After bowing to the doll maker, Headmaster said, “The school is grateful for your assistance in this matter and for returning our missing student.”
Hirata-san returned the bow, then nodded to Chiyo before walking away. Yamada-san left the office after a brief word to Headmaster Hanarai. His nod toward Chiyo was encouraging, but he, too, left the school.
“Come in, please,” Headmaster said, motioning to the three of them. They hurried after him into the office and stood in a row before his desk, hands clasped at their waists, eyes lowered.
Headmaster Hanarai sat behind his desk. “Miss Miyamoto, I have talked with your father by telephone. He happens to be in Tsuchiura and is on his way here to discuss whether you will be permitted to remain at this school.”
Hoshi’s head came up. “Not remain . . . ?”
“You may leave now to go directly home, Miss Miyamoto. I will discuss this further with your father.”
Would Hoshi be expelled, too? The possibility shocked Chiyo almost as much as it had Hoshi.
I’m a nobody from the country,
she told herself.
No one will be surprised to see me leave, but everyone knows that Hoshi practically rules the school.
How would General Miyamoto react? Chiyo thought of his demands on Hoshi and couldn’t help pitying her — a little.
“Hirata Gouyou-san has explained what he heard and saw during the confrontation in the fabric room,” Headmaster said to Shizuko. “Your story is not necessary at this time. Be prepared, however, to be called from class if General Miyamoto should wish to hear exactly what you saw done to the doll.”
Shizuko bowed and hurried from the office, looking frightened at the thought of General Miyamoto.
Now me.
Chiyo braced inwardly, expecting to hear again that she was unwelcome at the school. She wondered if Yamada-san had already offered to remove her.
Headmaster gazed at her for a long moment, as if considering his next words. “Miss Tamura,” he said finally, “I hope you understand how much distress you caused by leaving the school without a word to anyone, much less permission.”
“Sumimasen,”
she apologized. “I promised to protect Emily Grace. I had to save her from the trash. And I was told I was not wanted at this school.”
Again, the headmaster let moments pass in silence. “It seems the school owes you an apology,” he said at last. “Perhaps our error equals yours.”
Their error? An apology? Was she hearing right?
“By arranging repairs to the American doll, you prevented a loss of honor to the school.”
Chiyo looked at him, too surprised to keep her eyes modestly lowered. Headmaster’s smile might have been thin, but it was there.
“Now that I have the facts, I am rescinding what I said earlier.” His gaze met hers. “Yamada Nori believes that you should leave Tsuchiura Girls’ School. He does not think us worthy of you. We at the school hope you will stay.”
Chiyo’s head reeled with the unfairness she had received here, especially the blame for hurting Emily Grace. They should have known she would never do that.
“I understand you may need time to think,” Headmaster Hanarai said into her silence. “Yamada-san is waiting to take you into town for tea. I will meet with you when you are ready to make your decision. Are we agreed?”
“Hai,”
she whispered, while questions and doubts ran through her head. She had expected to leave the school forever. Should she stay? She didn’t want to. Yet she did want to. She squeezed her hands together, unable to decide what she wanted.
The decision felt too big for her to make. As she bowed and left the office, angry footsteps pounded down the walkway along the courtyard, all but covering the flutter of girls escaping into nearby rooms.
C
hiyo recognized the general’s footsteps before he came into sight, walking fast. She flattened against the wall to one side, trying to be invisible.
He strode past without glancing toward her and slammed open the door into Headmaster’s office. “When you failed my daughter, you failed me,” he roared. The door banged shut.
Chiyo ran as fast as her kimono allowed, to get away from the angry general. Yamada-san would be with his carriage beyond the front gate. She couldn’t wait to be in his friendlier company.
The end of her obi swung loose. Her kimono was coming apart, and her hair needed combing. Changing direction, she hurried to the second building and up the stairs to the sleeping area.
To her surprise, Mrs. Ogata held out her arms. “You have been through too much. I see it in your face. Come, let me straighten your obi.”
“I have to hurry,” Chiyo said, out of breath. “Someone is waiting.”
Mrs. Ogata nodded. Her assured manner and capable hands on the obi helped Chiyo breathe more naturally. Yamada-san would still be waiting if she took a little longer. He expected her to be with Headmaster for several minutes.
She combed her hair with hard pulls. Each pull felt as if she combed out memories of the too-short train ride, the drive with Yaeko, the doll maker’s stubborn housekeeper, and all the rest of it.
The need to escape eased only when she saw Yamada-san waiting with his carriage.
“You will have no more problems with Miyamoto Hoshi,” he told her as he helped her into it. “While I waited here, the general stalked back to his car. He shouted to anyone who would listen that he was removing his daughter. He blames the school for her problems.”
Hoshi was gone. The mean tricks would end. It was hard to believe. “The school will be different without her,” Chiyo murmured.
In a new school, Hoshi will be the outsider and others may be mean to her.
The thought was unkind, but Chiyo couldn’t feel kind toward Hoshi.
I should wish her well,
she scolded herself, but added fiercely,
I’m glad I don’t have to.
“I understand his fury,” Yamada-san continued, as if unaware of the thoughts raging through Chiyo. “The school has also failed you.”
That was true, but she had never expected to hear someone say so. “They wouldn’t let me keep my promise to the mayor.” That hurt almost as much as seeing Emily Grace cut into pieces. That, and being blamed for cutting her.
There was so much more she could say to Yamada Nori, but she told herself it was over now. Keeping bitterness in her heart would be the same as letting Hoshi win, but it was hard to let the anger go, even with Headmaster’s apology and the knowledge that Hoshi would never return to the school.
Yamada-san drove his carriage to a teahouse where windows allowed a view of a stream rippling over stones. Chiyo sat on a firm cushion beside a low table while a
shamisen
and a koto played somewhere unseen. She wanted to stare around with wide eyes. Must she still be as well mannered as Hoshi? Aware that Yamada-san watched her with amusement, she concentrated on the lotus blossoms in the center of the table and began to feel soothed by the flowers’ creamy whiteness.
“You have had an adventurous day,” Yamada-san told her after discussing choices with a kimono-clad attendant. “I would like to hear how you managed to reach Tokyo by yourself.”
She had expected it, yet the question was like a boulder thrown into the tranquil scene. The trip to Tokyo flew through her head. None of it had been the behavior of a modest traditional girl. Nothing about that trip could please Yamada Nori.
He waited for her answer.
“I . . . I rode the train.” She would not be like Hoshi and hide the truth. “I lost the money you gave me for the first trip. It was an accident.”
Yamada-san waited, but she felt he was putting questions aside for later. She no longer felt tranquillity from the lotus blossoms.
“I had just enough yen to go to Toride,” she finished in a hurry. “I thought I could ask for a ride with a farmer on his way to the market in Tokyo.”
Yamada-san sounded as if he were trying to stay calm. “Did you find such a farmer?”
“No.” She twisted a tassel on one corner of the cushion. “I was too late. They had all gone.”
The attendant returned to pour fragrant green tea while Chiyo tried to sit quietly. Had she ruined Masako’s chance for marriage? How would she face her sister?
Yamada-san sipped his tea. “The farmers had gone. Yet you reached Tokyo.”
Chiyo blocked the word
flapper
from her lips before it could slip out. She knew he would not approve of riding with a flapper. “A nurse stopped her automobile to ask if I needed help. I told her I had to get Emily Grace repaired. So she drove me.”
She raised her eyes to Yamada-san, unable to keep them humbly lowered. “I promised the mayor of Tokyo that I would take care of her.”
Yamada-san ignored the last to ask, “The nurse would be the woman who later called the school?”
Chiyo heard the expected disapproval and said quietly, “She was very nice.”
“At your request, Hirata Gouyou repaired the doll?”
“Hai,”
she agreed hesitantly. Yamada-san heard the hesitation and looked questioningly over his teacup. Telling it all could make things worse, but secrets always came out.
She spoke quickly, lining up the details like ducks on a pond. “First I met the man who is to arrange American dolls in the big doll palace the empress ordered. He said he would help me see the doll maker if I would help him decide how to arrange the dolls in the palace. So I did that while Hirata-san repaired Emily Grace.”
She took a deep breath, feeling dizzy, while Yamada-san gazed thoughtfully into his teacup. After a long moment, he shook his head. “You took a dangerous risk in waiting on the road for a ride and by accepting one.”
“Hai,”
she admitted. “I had hoped for a farm cart —”
He cut her off. “You also took a risk in talking to a man who must have been unknown to you. It is time to return home to the care of those who love you.”
That was what she had wanted from the start. She had wanted to go home before she was a wheel’s turn away.
Yet she saw again the fierceness in
Okaasan’
s eyes when it had been so desperately hard to leave. “Put fear behind,” her mother had insisted. “Seize this opportunity.” How could she leave the school after so short a time there?
Yamada-san’s voice became firm after waiting for her answer and receiving none. “You will be happier in your old school in the village. Your friends will welcome you.”
“I would like to see Yumi and her sister.” But there was more to learn in Tsuchiura. She would never have made the trip to Tokyo if she had remained at home, never have ridden in an automobile or on a streetcar. She would never have met the doll maker, the mayor, the man from the doll palace . . . or Yaeko.
“You are frowning,” Yamada-san said quietly.
“The nurse . . . her name was Yaeko . . . she said that school in Tsuchiura would change me, that it had already. I think she was right.”
“You do not wish to return to the village school?” His brows rose, then he nodded. “I understand. Headmaster Hanarai said that you are having trouble with your schoolwork. You have been too often away from classes. You would feel shame in returning to your old school when you are behind your friends in their lessons.”
Chiyo didn’t think she would be behind. The school in Tsuchiura was ahead of the village school. That had been her problem. Yet she had missed many classes.