Silkpunk and Steam

by Sarina Dorie

  “Hmm, you are right.”

  Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t touch her. I kicked at another rock. This rock was shiny and square, a bit of metal. Probably washed ashore from one of the gaijin camps.

  Taishi stooped to pick up the bit of metal. He brushed it off and studied it. “It seems we are at a loss. If you are too busy to convince Faith-chan and I must not, then who will get her to come out from her room? How will the Tanukijin be convinced she is harmless? If I am not elected leader by the council, Faith-chan will be forced into exile again, ne? Even if I am selected, it doesn’t mean I can persuade them to let her stay if she remains an outsider to the tribe. Who will draw her out of her shyness?”

  Exile was the least of it. Faith might be put to death to keep the secret of the Tanukijin palace safe. I turned away from Taishi and stomped off.

  He laughed. We both knew he’d won that battle.

  I enjoyed spending time with Faith, but I didn’t look forward to getting her out of her room. Speaking directly to her about politics and the way people viewed her just made her cry and then I felt worse. I pestered her for days to eat dinner with the tribe. When that didn’t work, I refused to let anyone bring her soup in her room. I hated to starve her, but it was her own choice not to leave her room.

  Michi accompanied Taishi and me to dinner in the great hall, so Faith was left alone. I couldn’t see why she thought going without supper was better than having dinner with the tribe. Everyone was nice. Or they would be, once they got to know her.

  It lessened my guilt to see people’s response to my niece. Everyone loved Michi. She made faces at the other children during dinner and they made faces back. As soon as she was finished with dinner, she ran off to play with friends she’d made. Her blue eyes and blonde hair were an oddity, and people stared openly because she was only a child, but there wasn’t disdain in the adults’ eyes. With her infectious smile and buoyant personality, she took those stares as an invitation to speak to them. People humored her precociousness and everyone patted her head and pinched her cheeks. Elders gave her dried berries and bits of jerky to fatten her up. If only I’d been that cute at eight. Michi looked like an outsider like Faith, but in her heart she was Jomon.

  On the second day without food, Faith said she would go with us to dinner. She started to put on her veil, but I tore it from her fingers and threw it on the floor. “No. You will not cover your face. People must see you or else they won’t trust you.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. She looked small and fragile. “I don’t like to go out without my veil.”

  “This is not the Chiramantepjin village where my brother was leader. This is the Tanukijin palace. You must follow their customs.” I hated being harsh with her when she was so fragile and her understanding of us was much like a child learning new ways, but it had to be done. The chiramantep who barked loudest had to be tamed.

  Her first night eating dinner in the hall must have been hard for her, but I was proud she’d finally come around. As my family, Taishi, Faith and Michi were permitted to eat with me on the dais at the front of the room. We sat at the low table facing the tribe. Taishi and Michi sat on one side of her, while I sat on the other. How like our relationship that was: Faith the bond between Taishi and me.

  It was hard enough sitting there and being the center of attention on an average night. I could hardly imagine Faith’s discomfort. Mostly people kept their eyes averted out of good manners, but with a room of over two hundred people, there was always someone sneaking glances at her. The children stared openly until their parents caught them and chided them. With the grandmothers and grandfathers, no one corrected their rudeness.

  Faith kept her gaze downward. I knew her well enough to know that meant she was uncomfortable, though others probably saw this as politeness. When she made to rise after dinner, I held onto her skirt so she couldn’t leave. She sat back down, frowning.

  She whispered in English. “They won’t even look at me. It’s my scars. They think I’m ugly.”

  “Speak Jomon,” I said. “You make yourself an outsider with your rudeness.”

  My brother nodded with approval at the exchange. Faith was silent during the remainder of the meal.

  I raised my voice for the crowd to hear. “There is so much sorrow in the village. Is there anyone who can tell a happy story to entertain us?”

  I made her sit through a story and singing. It was obvious from her rigid posture this was torture for her. When Michi was tired, I let Faith use that as an excuse to leave so she could put my niece to bed.

  Taishi nudged me a short while later. “Excuse yourself and go to Faith-chan. Reward her for her bravery. She needs a friend tonight, not a geari husband and not a nipa, ne?”

  My heart swelled with joy at the idea of spending time with Faith alone. It was as much of a reward for me, only I didn’t think I had earned it. “But my duties—”

  “Your family is your duty tonight. Go.” He waved me off.

  He didn’t follow me to their room.

  After cleaning my teeth with my chewing stick and other nighttime rituals in my own room, I went to his. The room was dark and Michi’s steady breathing attested to her deep slumber, though I couldn’t see her. I knew well enough where Faith slept. I had imagined myself creeping to her blankets and embracing her enough times.

  I slipped under her furs. The hot spring water running under the stones warmed the blankets so there was no need of a fire. Faith jerked back from me.

  “It’s just me,” I said.

  I rubbed her shoulders. Tension in her muscles melted away under my touch. Probably she was relieved it wasn’t my brother. The envy in my heart lessened at the thought she didn’t want him in her bed. Only me. Even if she didn’t want me in that sense.

  Her voice was high and tremulous. “Why did you humiliate me like that tonight? Everyone stared at my scars. I saw people point and they were probably saying I’m ugly.”

  First she was insulted that no one would look at her, now she was angry everyone did. I pushed my impatience aside. I wrapped my arms around her. “People don’t stare because you’re ugly. They stare because you’re different. Few have seen blue eyes or blonde hair, ne? They stare at Michi too.”

  She shifted and turned to face me. She buried her face in my neck and cried. I stroked the silk of her hair from her face. My fingers tangled in the fluff of curls so different from my own straight hair. I inhaled her aroma of paints and dyes, of chiramantep fat and the ground herbs she used in her paints.

  She sniffled and told me all her fears. They were gaijin fears, things I couldn’t understand. Some of the words had no translation in our tongue, or if they did, she didn’t know the right ones. Those that I could understand—about marriage with gaijin men and their expectations of a woman—didn’t make sense to me at all. Why would a man want a wife he’d never been with? Why would he want a wife who had never been with a man and didn’t know what to do while pillowing? Gaijin men sounded baka to me. Gaijin women didn’t sound much smarter.

  “Don’t you see?” she sobbed. “I’ll become an outsider to my own people if I become Jomon. I’ll never be able to go back.”

  What did it matter if she became Tanukijin and gave up her alien ways? I tried to understand. I wanted to understand so that she would trust me and let me into her heart, but I couldn’t figure out why a future with her people was so important when she might never have that future. All we had was the here and now.

  All I had was the here and now. I savored the silk of her hair under my fingers. I breathed in her warmth and the scent of clean leather. My heart ached for her. I pined to be with her.

  Finally, I said, “You are so pretty and so alien at the same time. It’s hard for the Tanukijin to see you as one of them if you stay sisam. Let people understand your nature isn’t that of an evil kamuy. Once they see you as you are, everyone will love you as much as they love Michi, ne?”


  My little niece stirred in her blankets hearing her name. Faith remained quiet.

  I lowered my voice to a whisper. “We will make tomorrow a special day. A day of art. Look at how barren the cliff palace is. You must prepare your drawings to show others.”

  The next day I sent Michi to play with her friends during the day and told her to help the grandmothers with chores. I explained to her, “You are not to come back to the room until after dinner, understand?”

  I gave Taishi the same mandate. For once he listened. Somehow he even managed to keep the grandmothers away and the elders from intervening and giving me meetings, duties and decisions to make.

  I only invited the four girls I knew best to meet Faith. Opere, Chinatsu, Pananpne and Hekketek admired her weavings and the sketches she’d made on scraps of papery bark.

  They were all politely quiet and kept their eyes on the art rather than her face. I’d never seen Chinatsu sit so still. She didn’t try to hug me or Faith or anyone else. I supposed she was nervous being in the presence of an off-worlder.

  When the bits of bark were all shown off, Faith took out her only book and turned the pages. Everyone leaned in close. She’d drawn with bits of charcoal on the thin pages of paper, overlaying the gaijin words with her own pictures.

  Seeing those words made me think of the secrets Sikanna Kamuy had shown the former nipa and that Shiromainu had shown me through memory exchange. When I looked at the hide noren curtains that covered the window to keep the heat in, the delicate patterns of spirals looked like the words I’d seen. In the memory they had made sense and I’d understood their meaning. When I looked at them now, there were moments they were solid and tangible like a chunk of ice in my palm. Other moments they shifted and became elusive and slipped through my fingers like water. I understood many of these patterns told stories of the past and explained how the hot water of the palace was possible. It explained how spaceflight was possible.

  All this knowledge, yet I didn’t understand it.

  I didn’t need to understand either. I was only to be nipa for five and a half more months. Then I would give this knowledge to Tomomi, my brother, or whoever became the new nipa. Yet … I would be breaking taboos if I gave the memory to either of them. I couldn’t give the memory to Tomomi because she was a woman, and I couldn’t perform memory exchange with my brother because he was a family member.

  I suspected Shiromainu hadn’t wanted my brother to become nipa because he hadn’t wanted him to have that memory. He didn’t want him to know about the kasha kamuy. Of course, Taishi might become nipa, but I didn’t have to share the memory with him. There would be no danger then, and Shiromainu wouldn’t become an unrested spirit in the afterlife.

  If Tomomi became leader, would she be a better choice? Would she accept Faith as a Tanukijin? I had never asked her.

  Chinatsu’s squeal caught my attention.

  Faith pointed to a pattern of flowers she’d made on a sketch of an attush robe.

  “I would wear that robe if someone made it for me,” Opere said.

  “You would wear anything so long as someone else put in the work to make it and you didn’t have to,” Chinatsu said.

  “Iya! You make me sound like I’m lazy.”

  “You are lazy!” Hekketek giggled.

  The girls continued their good-natured teasing. Even Faith smiled at their antics.

  Faith turned a page and showed another design, this one for a hide noren like those that covered the doors. She spoke in Jomon. “I couldn’t ever paint these since there was no ink to do so. There was never time for making art when all we did was scavenge for firewood and food.”

  “We will collect the blue pear dyes if you want to use them on hide here,” Chinatsu offered.

  “And I can show you how to make dyes with the plants that grow on the far side of the river,” Pana offered.

  Hekketek nodded to her cousin. “Pana is the best at making dyes. Even the grandmothers go to her when their fabrics don’t turn out the right color.”

  “Shush,” Pana said, blushing. “Only one grandmother has ever come to me.”

  “We should start one of your designs right now,” Opere said. She made a face at her friends. “See, I’m not lazy.”

  Opere removed the plain curtains from the door and the others fetched brushes and dye. Faith drew and we painted in her designs. Michi eventually came back from playing. I wanted to scold my niece for returning too soon, but Faith seemed happy to see her. She kissed Michi’s cheeks and showed her what we were doing.

  Hekketek and Pana stared with wide-eyed shock. Kissing was something new to them.

  “Face-eating,” Chinatsu whispered, none too quietly. I swear that girl didn’t have a subtle bone in her body.

  “It’s called kissing,” Faith said. “People from my planet do this to show affection. Contrary to popular belief, gaijin don’t eat people.”

  “Just so,” I said. “If they did, I think Faith-chan would have eaten me by now.”

  “So sorry, Sumiko-chan, even a kamuy wouldn’t want to eat you. You’re all skin and bones,” Chinatsu said.

  Opere pinched her.

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  “Sumiko Nipa. Show some respect to our leader.”

  Chinatsu’s eyes went wide. “So sorry! Sumimasen!” She bowed.

  “I’m not offended. I can be Sumiko-chan when it’s just us,” I said.

  “Yes, yes!” Chinatsu tackled me in one of her usual hugs.

  “Me too!” Michi said.

  Chinatsu opened her arms and included my niece in her hugs. Michi laughed and squirmed away. She pretended she would hug us, but then ran away again.

  Faith set aside her paintbrush and wiggled her fingers at Michi. “I’m the big, bad gaijin and I’m going to eat you!”

  Michi squealed and ran away, but I caught her. I pretended to bite her arm. Michi wiggled out of my arms. Nipa or not, I chased my little niece around the room. Everyone laughed. I tickled Michi when I caught her. Even Faith laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. It warmed my heart to see her happy.

  “Perhaps you will join us on the practice field later?” Pana asked.

  Faith’s brow crinkled. “To do what?”

  “To practice fighting, of course.”

  “You mean to say you fight like boys?” Faith asked.

  Hekketek roared, sounding like Tomomi. “We fight like girls. We fight like tanuki.”

  They all laughed.

  Michi plopped down next to Hekketek in that easy way of hers. She made growling noises.

  My Tanukijin friends laughed again. Faith shook her head, confused.

  “Everyone learns to fight in the Tanukijin village. It’s very practical,” I told Faith.

  Faith lifted her chin. “Young ladies from the Chiramantepjin village didn’t fight.”

  “That’s not true. I fight. My mother was a warrior and nipa and she fought.” There had been other women warriors too, I just couldn’t remember who they had been. It all had been so long ago. “In the Chiramantepjin village, no one had time to learn fighting during the winter. We had no time for art. Now we are here in a new village. We must learn new ways.”

  “We would be happy to teach you,” Pana said.

  “We were very gentle with Sumiko-chan—Nipa—when we taught her how to fight with sticks,” Chinatsu said.

  “That’s right, there’s no one here who will bully you on the practice field anymore.” Chinatsu clamped a hand over her mouth after the words came out.

  Opere pinched her. Pana and Hekketek’s expressions turned grave. Chinatsu stared at her ink-stained fingers in shame. I was too much in shock myself to respond. We hadn’t spoke of Petennouk since his death.

  Faith was too preoccupied by her own fears to notice their panic. “I can’t fight. I must behave as a proper lady.”

  I bowed to the others. “Please forgive Faith-chan. She is so shy an
d she’s still learning our customs. Perhaps my brother’s geari wife would be more comfortable learning music.”

  “Music! I’ll fetch my tonkori!” Pana leapt to her feet and ran out.

  “You will get to hear how bad Sumiko-chan—Nipa plays.” Hekketek bowed in apology, I suspected from the slip of title, not for telling Faith how bad I was. She didn’t seem to mind telling her that detail. “Sumimasen.”

  I’d selected the right group of women to introduce Faith to first. I could trust my friends to help me with the task of making Faith less sisam.

  At the end of the afternoon, I told them, “I need each of you tomorrow to bring a friend or family member to introduce to Faith-chan. Someone who likes art or music, ne?”

  Pana brought her mother and Hekketek her older sister. Chinatsu invited her grandmother—a crabby old woman I remembered from when I’d been forced to be tattooed. Opere brought her younger sisters and Grandmother Pirka. I could see the room was too small to fit everyone.

  “We could go to the weaving room,” Pana’s mother said. She bowed to me. “If it wouldn’t be inconvenient.”

  I made sure Faith met someone new each day. When I couldn’t spare the time to oversee Faith, I made sure my four friends were there to keep her company and protect her from the sourness of grandmothers and any others who might be unkind to her.

  In the years I had known Faith, her smiles had been rare and fleeting. In the women’s weaving room, I never saw Faith so happy. She showed off her book of ideas and people brought her hides to decorate. She taught what she knew and learned new skills. Women came to the room as much to work with her as to catch a glimpse of her. I couldn’t stay with her every moment. There were times I had council meetings and other duties to attend to. I didn’t worry about Faith so long as Pana or one of my other friends was there. When I came in to check on her, I could see some of the grandmothers were even being nice.