by Sarina Dorie
Shipo snapped the twigs above her head, so they didn’t poke her. Faith held Michi in her arms, rocking the whimpering baby. Rina-san sat with her own baby in her arms and her five-year-old napping in the moist dirt beside her. Faith tried to feed Michi a milk stem, a plant that oozed a white liquid that we drank when there was no more fresh water. Michi chewed on the green stem for a while, but turned her head away and cried more heartily.
Faith’s hair was dirty and clumped together, much like my own. She parted it in such a way that a curtain of hair fell over the bumpy scars on one side of her face. It didn’t really hide the scars when you looked directly into her face, but she kept her face angled so the pretty side was toward Rina.
“Could you spare a little milk for the baby?” Faith asked Rina, her words accented by her English.
Rina looked to me. “I can’t understand that devil woman. She doesn’t speak proper Jomon.” Such rudeness to someone in your own tribe was shocking, but then, Rina didn’t consider Faith as one of our tribe. I was still trying to figure out why my brother did.
I shouted to be heard over Michi’s crying. “She asked for milk for Nipa’s baby.” I was only eight, but starting to understand the significance of titles. I could have said “Taishi” or “my brother,” but people were more likely to do as he bid when you used a title. If only I had such an honorific.
Shipo snapped a large twig that made a loud pop. Michi’s cries turned into a wail. Rina gave Shipo a withering glance. My friend tucked her hands under her knees. Her thin cheeks looked hollow as she frowned.
I repeated the request, more loudly in case Rina hadn’t heard me over Michi’s crying.
“Nipa,” she snorted like she didn’t think much of my brother.
I scowled at that. He had taken her into this tribe like everyone else, yet she dared show disrespect. Some nipas would turn her out for such insolence. My mother would have had she still been alive. My heart felt heavy at the thought. A small sliver of hope remained in me that maybe she was still alive somewhere. If Taishi was allowed to have fanciful daydreams about uniting all the tribes, why couldn’t I dream as well? My dreams were so much smaller. They might become real.
Rina turned her nose up at Faith. I doubted she would share her milk with my baby niece, considering Taishi had asked the night before and Rina said she didn’t have enough milk for her own child, let alone someone else’s. Taishi was nipa. He shouldn’t have asked, he should have ordered her.
Faith unwrapped a cloth and showed Rina the portion of berries and dried chiramantep meat that should have been her lunch. “This will make it easier for you to produce more milk. And I will collect more milk stems for you to drink from when the rain stops.”
My belly grumbled at the sight of food. Shipo took in a sharp breath. I think she wanted it as badly as I did. My head hurt with the high-pitched shrieks of the baby. The sight of food didn’t make me feel any better.
Rina held out her hand to accept the food. She didn’t say she would share her milk. I fidgeted with impatience as she ate it up. Faith smiled and held out Michi. A rain drop plopped on my nose. I hastily rubbed it away.
Rina shoved her baby into my arms. “Don’t let the white devil touch my boy, understand?”
I bit my tongue against a sassy remark. I didn’t want to do anything that would change her mind, so I only nodded. As soon as Rina put Michi to her breast, my niece stopped her crying and suckled.
“Turn away,” Rina said to my brother’s geari wife. “You’ll sour the milk if I have to look at that face.”
Faith turned to the wall. She picked up a stray twig and carved into the soft dirt. At first I thought she was just idly passing the time, but then I saw what she was doing. She was drawing. I nudged Shipo who was still kneeling on her hands being quiet.
“Oh!” Shipo smiled and squirmed closer to see.
I leaned in to see the drawing better. It was me holding the baby. She captured my pose and expression with only a few lines. It amazed me. Faith stopped drawing and moved her hand so I could see better.
Shipo elbowed me. “Stay still. She can’t see what you look like if you move.”
I returned to my original position and held Rina’s baby as I had before. A little smile crept over Faith’s lips and she winked at me like we shared a little secret.
Shipo fidgeted in her excitement. “Me too! Draw me!”
Hope. That had to be why Taishi kept Faith around. She brought out hope in these small ways when there was none to be had.
The memory faded away and I found myself slipping into blackness. I felt like I was floating in warm water. I knew I wasn’t asleep because I was tired and more than anything I wanted to sleep. I blinked my eyes open. My lips curled upward, and I felt happy and content even though I couldn’t remember why.
Shiromainu Nipa lay across from me. His eyes were closed. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, I dabbed at it with the sleeve of my attush. Shiromainu Nipa inhaled sharply and opened his eyes. He smiled at me.
My initial anxiety over memory exchange and tsuma no koukan were gone. My muscles felt relaxed and I didn’t mind being here in a cozy room with warm furs under me.
“Do you want me to return that memory to you or give you one of my own?” he asked.
I tried to recall what it specifically had been about this memory that made me choose it. Now that this piece of the past was no longer inside me, I couldn’t recollect the details, though I knew what it had been about since I’d been talking about it only moments before. I remembered what I’d said and what I’d thought about the memory, even if I didn’t have the memory itself anymore. It felt strange, like a piece of me was missing.
I hoped I hadn’t revealed anything that showed my brother was weak or about my true feelings for Faith. Would they kill me if they knew I was different?
I focused on Shiromainu’s words. “I have many memories of Faith-chan feeding Michi and drawing pictures in the dirt. You may keep this one so you might know her character.”
I yawned and Nipa grabbed a cloth. He wiped my hands. “You are sleepy, Sumiko-chan?”
I closed my eyes. The gentle way he dabbed the moss from my palms sent pleasant chills up my arms.
“Mmm,” I said, considering it.
“Shall I let you sleep? You’ve had a long day. Tomorrow I can give you one of my memories.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
In his silence, I realized my error. My eyes flew open. I apologized and excused myself. “Sumimasen! I meant to say, yes, Nipa. Please forgive my rudeness.” Grandfather was a polite title to call an elder—unless he was a Nipa—and then he deserved a much more important title. I didn’t know if this memory I had given him had persuaded him to help my tribe. Now, he would see me as an insolent child.
He smoothed a hand over my hair. “I’m not offended. Rest now.”
Nipa adjusted his robe and shifted furs over me. It was warm under the blankets. My body was as at peace as I had been in the bath house. Maybe more so without grandmothers snipping at me.
“Aren’t I supposed to perform wifely duties now?” I asked.
His brow furrowed together and he looked puzzled. “Why do you ask? Have you any experience with men? Or rather, boys your own age?”
I made a face. “Boys are disgusting.” I was so intoxicated by the memory moss that I let my guard down and realized my mistake too late. He would know I was chikkan, and he would tell my brother. I would fail, and my brother would shun me, and send me out into the cold to die. Panic welled up inside me.
Mortification must have crossed my face, but Shiromainu only laughed. “Just so. You are too young for boys. Many girls your age say the same thing, yo ne!”
“They do?”
“Yes, when my own daughter was your age she thought boys were smelly, hairy and stupid. Then she turned fifteen. Things changed. So it will be with you when the time is right.”
; Relief washed over me. I was normal then? Those fluttery feelings I had when I looked at Faith were just the normal feelings a girl had before she liked boys? I wanted to believe it was true and that I wasn’t sisam or different inside.
“You needn’t worry about pillowing just yet. Someday there will be a man who will have you like this after you are both relaxed after memory exchange, a man you have chosen to love, not one you chose for duty. That man will not be me. You are too young for wifely duties, and I am too old for husbandly duties. This was enough for the night, ne? Tomorrow you shall think about what memory of mine you wish me to part with and we will perform memory exchange again.”
What would benefit my brother? My tribe? I was too exhausted to think on it. For the first time in an eternity my belly was full. I wasn’t worried about my next meal.
Being a bride hadn’t turned out so bad. I hadn’t even been forced to see one hairy behind that day!
Chapter Seven
After the Oregon Territories fiasco in which an entire planet blew itself up rather than be enslaved, new laws were established to protect native colonists. America, Britain, Germany and France have signed a treaty, F.C.F.W.P. (First Contact for First World’s People Pact) agreeing not to colonize any planet that already has existing colonists.
—The Guidebook of Colonization and Interplanetary Relationships, Fifth Edition, 1867
Shiromainu Nipa let me sleep in until well after dawn, something I was rarely permitted to do in my own tribe. At first I was disoriented and confused by the thick fluff of clean tanuki hides on top of me. I sat up with a start. Shiromainu knelt in the corner, his eyes closed in meditation. Soup steamed on the table. I retied my attush more securely around me and ran my fingers through my hair.
I took one step toward the food and then back toward Shiromainu, uncertain what was expected of me now. So far he had been kind to me, but I didn’t want to do anything that would change that.
He opened his eyes.
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Is my little bride ready for breakfast?”
I bowed. “Yes, please.”
“Shall I give you a few minutes of privacy?” His eyes cut over to a lidded pot in the corner.
I nodded. I appreciated his discreetness.
He left the room, giving me enough time to take care of necessities and cleanse my hands and face before he returned.
After he entered the chamber again, he bade me pour tea. My hands were less shaky than the night before. The conversation didn’t feel so much of an interrogation now, more of the morning pleasantries I was used to sharing with Faith: how did I sleep, was I warm enough, was there anything I wished to do today? My heart squeezed when I thought about her. I hoped she wasn’t worrying about me.
Shiromainu knelt close to me at the low table and fed me savory bites of fish from the long sticks of his hashi. Several times he stroked my hair or hugged me to his side when I said something that amused him like my parents used to do. If this was marriage, I didn’t think it was so bad.
When we were finished, he gave me a chewing stick for my teeth and then called down the hall for a woman to come. She escorted me to the onsen where I could bathe and cleanse myself of the memory moss that clung to my skin.
The bathhouse was crowded with women at this time of day. I stared in wonder. Women of all sizes and shapes, young and old lounged in the heated pools of water. Some sat outside on stools and scrubbed themselves.
There were so many beautiful women, their long hair flowing down to their waists and their nakedness exposed. It was always too cold where my tribe camped to be without clothes. I walked around in a daze. I’d never seen so many round breasts in my life. A thrill went through me and I forced myself to look down before anyone caught me ogling and accused me of being a chikkan. I didn’t want to give myself away.
This was a woman’s place, not a place for one who looked with a boy’s eyes. Sometimes that’s what I thought I had. I couldn’t imagine any other reason why I would admire women’s bodies so greatly. If someone told Shiromainu I was sisam and different in this way, I didn’t know what my punishment would be.
Women washed themselves with cloths before they stepped into the water. I did as they did and wiped myself down before stepping into the stone pool. The hot water stung my skin, and I squeezed my eyes closed at the pain of it. The worst was in my hands where the memory moss had been. Red dots marked my skin, and the heat made my rash itch.
A few mothers scooted closer to me, smiling in a friendly sort of way that made me feel welcome. I tried not to stare at the full breasts of a woman who must have been a nursing mother. Her skin was so smooth and rosy with warmth. My eyes lingered on the mound of hair between another woman’s legs as she walked outside the heated pool, and I looked away.
I’d witnessed nudity many times among the Chiramantepjin, but mostly when washing with old, shriveled grandmas or children my age or younger in muddy streams. People kept themselves covered in the cold weather. It had been so long since I’d gazed upon such a banquet for the eyes. I hadn’t known other women could be just as lovely as Faith. The thinnest of women here were rounder than Faith, and I’d always thought she was the healthiest-looking out of all of us Chiramantepjin. Though, Faith’s curves were distributed differently from these women and I still liked her figure better. It didn’t stop me from wanting to look anyway. This was heaven for my eyes, but turmoil for my soul.
“So how was your first night here?” a smaller-breasted woman asked.
Another woman with chubby cheeks asked, “Was Nipa gentle with you? He’s a good man, but it has been a long time since he has had a woman. You might have to remind him how.”
“Hush. Look at her. Do you think she knows how? Did he have you, dear?” The woman smiled, but there was a shrewdness in her eyes I didn’t trust.
“Was he able to get that chin-chin working again?” another asked.
They asked in a friendly sort of way that was hard not to answer without being rude. I didn’t know how to reply. I didn’t want to say anything that would shame his virility after he’d been so kind.
An older woman snorted. “Where are her tattoos? How could he bed her if she isn’t a woman yet? Nipa is more sensible than that.”
“Tanukijin men do not bed children,” another agreed.
I hid my hands in the water. I couldn’t hide my lack of breasts, absence of body hair, or the fact that my ribs stuck out from my skin. Even so, I tried to disguise myself by slouching deeper into the water. This was the most humiliating experience in my life.
“Did he have you? Did you like pillowing, dear?” a plump woman asked.
There were too many questions to answer all at once. I bowed my head, staring into the water. “Nipa is a good man. He is pragmatic and he treated me and my body with respect.” It was the sort of reply that didn’t answer their questions, and it also politely told them I didn’t intend to.
One of the women grabbed a cloth and scrubbed my back. Another took up massaging my shoulders. I’d never been gifted with such attention before.
When I was done bathing, an old woman gave me a fresh attush, a pair of hakima pants and a vest made from the purple and green fur of a tanuki. It was all so clean and in such good condition compared to anything I owned. Being a nipa’s wife had its advantages.
After I dressed, she escorted me to the great hall where Shiromainu Nipa waited for me. Once there, he bade me to go with him on a tour.
It had escaped my notice the day before that Shiromainu walked with a cane. He held onto my elbow, his steps slow and shuffling. Perhaps he had walked this way the day before and I’d been too nervous to notice, or perhaps the wintry weather made his bones ache after so much travel. The grandmothers in the Chiramantepjin tribe always complained of cold weather making their arthritis pain them.
Shiromainu showed me about the palace, taking me to the most interesting chambers and his garden courtyards. The structur
e of the box-like buildings was carved into the stone walls of the cliffs. The laundry and bath houses were placed on the lowest floors to reach the water of the natural hot springs. I could barely keep track of the maze of stairs, hallways and private quarters of family. It was a different kind of jungle here than I was used to.
Even though it was cold, plants grew along the walls and in the crevices of the stones. Sugar fruit grew on trees in the courtyards. This paradise was everything my tribe needed. I could imagine how Faith would love to draw pictures of such a beautiful place. I smiled when I thought of her. I frowned again when I remembered she was cold and starving. Everything I did here reflected on my tribe. I would show my best manners and prove to Shiromainu what good people I came from, how we would be a good addition to his tribe.
I would change his mind, if not with my memories, then through my words and actions.
I was introduced to what seemed like a million people along the way, though in hindsight, it might only have been two hundred. The Tanukijin were polite and bowed to me as though I were someone worthy of great honor and respect, even though I was only a child. I could hardly believe everyone’s kindness. It all had to be a trick. Even grandmothers watched their tongues in Shiromainu’s presence.
It was cold outside and a thin layer of snow covered the ground of a walled courtyard. Younger children ran about, playing games. Four girls my age played ohajiki, a pebble game with red chiramantep stones, or what the gaijin called red diamonds. Taishi and Faith would have disapproved of the sparkling stones and thrown them away. It had been years since I’d played, not because I was too old for the game, but because my every waking hour was filled with chores.
Ohajiki used to be Shipo’s favorite game. I bit my lip, thinking of her and made myself stop. I needed to let her spirit rest in Kamuy-mosir, the land of the spirits.
Shiromainu took me to the group of girls. Upon seeing us approach, they stood and bowed. Shiromainu greeted them, but that was all he managed to get out before a giggling girl rushed forward and hugged me.
