Silkpunk and Steam

by Sarina Dorie

  “Except yours.”

  There was hope then. I listed off a few of the things I’d been told: his way of abusing the girls if he didn’t get what he wanted, taunts to others and disrespect to elders. I didn’t mention his slander of his own nipa—that was too much for even me to mention.

  “Iya! I am Nipa and this goes on under my nose without my knowing? Yet you are the first to tell me. I should have him whipped.”

  “So that he can have his vengeance on me later for telling you?” I asked.

  “I must be more vigilant. I must catch him in one of these indiscretions so he cannot say it is the fault of you or anyone else. If he is to be angry, let him be with me.”

  We were both silent, thinking it over. Petennouk was as evil as a kamuy in a boy’s skin, but I didn’t dare say this. The idea of disguises sparked an idea in me. Shiromainu couldn’t catch his grandnephew committing bad deeds because Petennouk had enough sense to behave when his nipa was around. That mean Shiromainu wouldn’t catch him. Nipa had to disguise himself so he could catch Petennouk. Only the idea of doing something so sneaky and unscrupulous might offend him.

  I tried to explain without explaining so that my idea wouldn’t offend him. “Do you know the story of the kamuy in the chiramantep skin who disguises himself and spies on the human maidens?”

  Shiromainu sat back on the furs. “No, I don’t think I know that one.”

  “The kamuy wanted a human bride, so he decided to follow three maidens as they walked along river. He couldn’t decide which one because they were all so beautiful, so he hid in the skin of a chiramantep. Pretending to be something he wasn’t was the only way to trick the maidens into letting him near. His plan worked so well the maidens treated him as an animal. He let them tame him and take him home.

  “He thought he would get the girl of his choosing to climb on his back to ride him and then carry her off. He spied on the girls while bathing and thought he might have the one with the most curves and most slender waist.” I tried not to imagine Pana. “Then he spied them while they were talking about who was the best cook and smelled the wonderful stew the second girl made. He decided he wanted the one who would make him the best meal. Last, he heard them talking about matters of love and he changed his mind again. He would have the one who loved like a wild animal during pillow time.”

  “That isn’t a matter of the heart. It’s a matter of the loins,” Shiromainu corrected.

  “It’s a story, anata. In any case, the kamuy was now stumped. Three beautiful maidens and one good reason to marry each. Whatever was he to do?”

  “Let me guess. Did he carry them all off?” Shiromainu asked.

  “Iya!” How did he know?

  He smiled. “I’m an old man. All stories start to sound the same after a while. Especially ones with kamuy.”

  “Maybe this one doesn’t end that way,” I said, thinking of a better ending.

  “No?”

  “The three maidens knew the chiramantep was really a kamuy in disguise, so none of them would get on top of his back. They talked like they would, and kept him in their care, hoping to ensnare him instead. They fed him their delicious stew and played music for him to lull him to sleep. And when he was asleep, they removed the fur from his back to make a warm blanket for themselves and cooked the kamuy in a stewpot for their breakfast the next day.”

  Shiromainu ruffled my hair. “That’s an original ending. I see you like to break tradition, Sumiko-chan. You are always unexpected.”

  “I like to make my own happy endings,” I said. “Don’t you?”

  Shiromainu closed his eyes. He was silent for so long I thought he must have fallen asleep as he kneeled there. At last he spoke. “I think I understand why you told me this tale. Yes, I like happy endings as well.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Planet 157, the world the native colonists call Aynu-Mosir, is much like the Asian cultures on Earth. The needs of the family and community outweigh the needs of the individual. This’s why disgracing oneself reflects so deeply on the family. Sometimes three generations might be punished for the crime of one. In our own Western Culture, we seem to have forgotten the idea of family and placed the individual, or the self, as most important. I miss those days when I was surrounded by my own family on the planet.

  —From the diaries of Felicity Earnshaw

  At breakfast, we ate with everyone in the village rather than privately. Nipa gave me the honor of pouring soup. As a show of respect, the elderly were served first. People greeted us and bowed as they approached. They handed us their bowls and we filled them. I dreaded the moment Petennouk’s turn would come.

  He greeted us with an insolent, half bow. He kept his eyes on me the entire time, a little smirk on his face.

  Shiromainu raised his voice into a bellow so that all could hear, though he didn’t sound angry, just authoritative. “What insolence you show your nipa! As if it isn’t bad enough the way you shove your way in front of your elders. You shame yourself with your lack of respect. Go to the end of the line.”

  Petennouk’s jaw dropped. People pretended not to stare, but I could see them looking out of the corner of their eyes. Petennouk stomped off. If he had been any youth in the Chiramantepjin village, he would have hung his head in shame and apologized for offending his leader. Petennouk didn’t look cowed at all. When the line cycled through and it was Petennouk’s turn again to be served, he bowed appropriately with his eyes on the floor. It was no more than what anyone else had done, but I had expected a lower, more remorseful bow. The problem was Petennouk was spoiled and Shiromainu was now correcting him late in his pattern of misbehaviors. This wasn’t going to be quick or easy.

  After breakfast, I practiced music with my friends. Only later did we go outside to the riverbank where we practiced fighting. The day was cool, but not cold. The sun shone down and warmed us as we drilled moves. One not looking for a kamuy in chiramantep’s clothes might have dismissed the overly bundled figure on the outskirts of the group. Without his cane and eboshi to give him away, Shiromainu could have been anyone.

  Unfortunately, Shiromainu didn’t catch his grandnephew because he wasn’t on the field that day. Either the hour was too late for him or he’d hidden himself out of shame.

  “What do you say to resuming morning practice tomorrow?” I asked the other girls.

  Chinatsu bit her lip. “If that is your preference we will do as you wish.”

  I could see the anxiety in their eyes, but none questioned me. Whether it was my position or they were too polite to refuse me, I didn’t know. I let it slip in front of Shiromainu the time of day we would be practicing the next morning.

  Petennouk was at practice the following day, behaving as usual: taunting children and acting like a bully. I made myself not look at Shiromainu watching from afar. He looked like any grandfather without his belt of office visible. He didn’t wear his tanuki eboshi and in its place was a smaller hat, more for warmth than rank.

  When Petennouk wandered closer, Shiromainu did as well.

  “What is Grandfather’s pet practicing today?” Petennouk asked.

  “I am not practicing with you,” I said firmly.

  Petennouk laughed. “Still haven’t learned your lesson?” His eyes were hard. He hadn’t forgotten the way I’d bested him the other day.

  Nor was I about to let him gloss over the fact I’d won. “Excuse my rudeness for being so bold, but it seems to me it should be the other way around, ne? You are the one who hasn’t learned a lesson. I refused to fight you and you attacked anyway. And when I did defend myself, you were the one who suffered at my hands. Or do you forget?”

  A man in the distance chuckled. Petennouk’s face flushed red. “I’ll make you suffer for that insolence. By the end of the hour I will make you bow down to me and grovel at my feet.”

  I crossed my arms, doing my best not to look intimidated, though my heart raced and the way he spoke so boldly and ve
hemently made me uncomfortable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shiromainu shuffle closer. He moved slowly without the support of his cane. He stepped behind his nephew. His eyes narrowed.

  I lifted my chin. “As I said before, I don’t wish to fight you. It wasn’t a fair fight before, nor would it be now.” And because I couldn’t help myself, I added very quietly. “Especially for you.”

  He lunged at me, swinging his stick. Insults flew out of his mouth, but I was more focused on his movements and darted to the side. A louder yell came from Shiromainu, whose hat fell off as he dove forward. He grasped his grandnephew’s stick. Two older boys, now seeing their nipa, stepped forward and assisted him before their leader could get hurt. They restrained Petennouk who struggled and called me ugly and a baby and filth from a chiramantep’s poyshi. He stopped fighting when Shiromainu came into view.

  Nipa’s tone was even and icy. “You would dare hit the wife of a nipa?”

  Petennouk’s eyes grew wide. “It was her fault. She mocked me.”

  “You disgrace me with your lack of self-control and further disgrace yourself with your lies. Go to the council chamber.”

  Petennouk’s surprise soured into petulance. He crossed his arms defiantly. “But—”

  “Go. Must I ask your peers to escort you because you are too much of a child to go on your own?”

  Petennouk’s mottled complexion turned purple. He stomped off. Shiromainu gestured to the two other boys to show he wanted them to follow anyway. They did so. Now Nipa turned to me. “Sumiko-chan, are you hurt?”

  My hands were shaking and I pressed them together to keep them from giving away my nerves. “I’m fine.”

  “Then I need you to change and get your eboshi for a council meeting. We are going to settle this now.”

  Within fifteen minutes, all the elders were assembled. The six of them were dressed formally with their eboshi on their heads and decorated belts around their attush. A fire lit the small room, casting flickering shadows over the monstrous headdresses. More than ever, the Tanukijin resembled kamuy dressed in tanuki clothing and it sent a chill of fear though me to be seated in a circle amongst them—even if I wore the same eboshi as the rest of them.

  Grandma Pirka patted my hand and offered me a kind smile. It made me feel a little better.

  Petennouk sat amongst the elders, though he wore no mask and the fear in his eyes was plain for all to see.

  Shiromainu said, “I have asked you to assemble here because it is necessary you decide the fate of my grandnephew and that of myself. I have proven myself unworthy to judge the character of my family. I have failed in my duty as your nipa in protecting my people, and our revered guest, from the foolishness of one of my family. I ask that you allow me to resign from my position.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t be in earnest. Resign? This was my fault. I had talked Shiromainu into watching. How could I have been so naive to think I could help him catch his grandnephew and save face at the same time? I hated myself for my stupidity. Even with my mask to hide my expression, some of it must have showed because a smirk twitched at Petennouk’s lips.

  An old man, so thin and fail he looked more like a skeleton wearing skin than a man, said in a scratchy voice. “We will determine your fate after we hear all that has transpired. If we deem Petennouk-san’s actions to be only a family dispute between you, him and your temporary wife, we see no reason to interfere.” He licked his cracked lips, looking to me with milky eyes. “But if we determine he has endangered our tribe or that his actions should go beyond a family matter, then we will decide his fate and yours.”

  The words hung in the air, heavy like the muggy clouds of smoke when the gaijin were busy burning vegetation.

  An old woman with brown nubs of teeth said to me, “Sumiko-san, we would like to know what happened.”

  I looked to Shiromainu and bowed my head. “I do not want to say anything that will disgrace my husband, as I fear that the truth will be difficult.”

  Shiromainu covered my hand with his. “Do not let fear for my reputation keep you from speaking. The truth is always more important than honor.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  I swallowed. Everything bad one did reflected poorly on relatives. How difficult it was that Petennouk’s relative was his nipa. Had his actions been less public, he might have been punished in private as a family member, not by the elders of the tribe.

  I asked, “Do you wish to know what transpired today?”

  “We wish to know all. From the beginning,” Grandma Pirka said.

  I hesitated, unnerved my Petennouk’s glare. It was rude to stare as he did, a threatening gesture that no normal boy would have dared do. But he had already proven he wasn’t like a normal boy.

  One of the elders looked from me to him. She was a frail old woman, but she punched him in the side of the head. “Lower your eyes. You are in the presence of Nipa and his wife.”

  He did so, and though his gaze was just as piercing, it looked as though he would poke holes in the reed mats we knelt on rather than into me.

  “I suppose if I am to start at the beginning, I should start the day I arrived.” I spoke slowly, carefully choosing my words the best I could so that I would be less likely to incriminate Shiromainu, who had treated me so kindly. I was certain that with the memories I had given him he would choose to let our two tribes join. But if he resigned, who would that leave in charge of the Tanukijin? Would he or she see the benefit of including Faith in the village rather than see her as a dangerous outsider?

  I didn’t mention the warnings of the other girls, trying to keep my summary confined to my experiences rather than making this more than a family matter. This was difficult when I saw there was no way to explain how I’d come by my bruises and my reason for letting Petennouk hit me in Pana’s stead. I told the story exactly as it had happened, even rolling up my sleeves to let them see the truth of it.

  Petennouk sneered. “She could have gotten those bruises anywhere. From her friends in practice. From her husband during the time they lay together.” He balled his hands into fists on his knees, allowing all to see his childish display of anger.

  “It is not your time to speak.” Shiromainu wacked him across the back of his hands with his cane. “And I suggest you think twice before accusing your nipa of being cruel to a woman in his bed.” He turned to me, his dark brown eyes sad, an emotion the ferociousness of his tanuki eboshi couldn’t hide. “I’m sorry for the interruption, Sumiko-san. Please continue.”

  I did so, sticking to the truth, even when it shamed me to admit my own indiscretions. I bowed my head. “I’m aware my lack of good conduct is inexcusable. I am ashamed I insulted Petennouk and pointed out his shortcoming.”

  An old woman shook her head. “Surely this is an exaggeration. Am I to believe, you bested a trained fighter?”

  “Well, yes, but only because he thought I was weak and stupid. He was taken unaware when I reacted. It was more luck than skill.”

  Grandmother Pirka waved a tattooed arm at me. “Stand up, Sumiko-san.”

  I did so.

  “Now you, Petennouk-san.”

  He did. Even slouching, he was a head taller than I was.

  The elders shook their heads. One of the old men snickered, but abruptly stopped when one of the grandmothers gave him a reproachful glance. I couldn’t tell if they thought I was lying or thought less of him for losing to a thirteen-year-old girl.

  When I had finished telling all that had happened that morning, they asked a few questions about the day he’d spilled the soup on me and the day he’d sought to trip me at lunch. It was Shiromainu who asked, “Is there more that my grandnephew has done besides this?”

  I was careful in my answer, uncertain what Shiromainu wanted me to say. “This is all I have experienced myself. I saw him force children to fight him so he could win, but I cannot speak on behalf of others and what they’ve experienced o
r if they felt bullied or abused.”

  He leaned in closer. “Were there other things you’ve been told he’s done?”

  Didn’t Shiromainu understand what he was asking? Anything I repeated would make this into a tribal matter rather than a private one. I couldn’t afford to let him step down as leader.

  I fidgeted with the purple and green hem of the tanuki fur tunic that was far too warm to wear in the sweltering room. “There were rumors, yes, about his revenge on others. If a girl refused his advances, he finds a way to hurt her during practice. But again, I cannot account for such words since they were not my own. He gives gifts to those who agree with him.” I met the gaze of my elders, wondering which of them he bribed.

  There were a few more questions about his conduct toward others, but I was as vague as possible in order to protect Shiromainu. He sat calmly, his body giving away no indication he felt anxiety. I did my best to imitate his stillness, lest I give away the thundering of my heart and my fear.

  The woman with the brown teeth turned to Petennouk. “It is now your turn to give your account.”

  “She’s a liar! You can’t trust those Chiramantepjin. She’s just jealous and wants me to look bad. She’s not even a woman.” He went on and on with his accusations, making himself look like a child. “You heard how she spoke about gaijin, as though they’re people like us. That sisam in her tribe has corrupted her mind. She’s a gaijin lover, just like her nipa.”

  My eyes went wide. I bit my tongue. The elders exchanged annoyed glances.

  “Do you have anything to say about your own experience with the fight?” Shiromainu asked.

  “She didn’t best me in the fight like she claims.”

  That made me laugh, but I quickly covered it with a cough. Petennouk glared.

  The grandmother nearest him, punched him in the side of his head. “Keep your eyes lowered to show your respect of Nipa’s wife.”

  He did so, his mouth set into a tight line.