“I’ll need a partner in life. My parents want to send a wife to me.”
It seemed strange to think that Marudome-san had a mother and father back in Japan. I wondered what kind of story he had made up for their benefit.
“I was thinking that it would be better to marry someone here. Someone who understood.”
Marudome-san then stared at me and I took in the roundness of his face, his odd eyebrows that drooped like dying leaves.
It wouldn’t be a bad life. Marudome-san never lifted a hand against us. And he never seemed to want relations with us.
“You could still work,” he said. “Maybe just with select customers. Just think about it.”
He drained the rest of the tea in his mouth and rose from the table.
My cup was empty, but the bitterness stayed in my mouth. You could still work, he had said. Just what did he think of me?
* * *
That night hakujin men came to the hotel. They were the same ones who I had encountered at the dry goods store and I believed that I had recognized their voices from last night.
“I want me a Jap girl, too,” I heard one of them say. “I saw a young, pretty one at the store.”
Marudome-san must have directed him to my room, because the stinky one with the burlap colored hair stumbled in, dropping his pants even before he closed the door behind him. Something hard hit the floor and then he grabbed me on top of the bed, as if I was a swine ready to escape.
I, however, wasn’t going to put up a fight. Some of our customers wanted us to play games, fight back, so that they could pinch or even slap us. No one would dare to actually disfigure or seriously harm us—they would have Marudome-san to answer to.
He ripped off my robe and dove into my breasts. His whiskers on his chin felt like sandpaper and his hair was oily. Nausea almost overcame me, but I swallowed any vomit that crept up my throat.
Before he pushed his chin-chin into me, his friend barged in. “C’mon, we’ve heard word that the Chinaman is out by the creek.”
He quickly put on his pants and hat and stumbled out the door.
I checked under the bed. It was as I had suspected. He had forgotten his revolver.
* * *
I dug my heels into the mare’s side, but she wouldn’t be rushed. I searched for a sign of the moon, but fog had descended over the sky.
I felt as though we were traveling for at least an hour, next to the trickle of the creek, when I smelled smoke from a clearing. Flames licked the end of a torch held by the tallest one.
I watched as they surrounded him, placing a noose around his head.
My mare stepped on some dead leaves and the sound scared a sparrow in some bushes.
The youngest one turned, his hands ready to fight. When he saw me, his face immediately softened. “Lookee, it’s my little Jap girl, bringin’ me my re—”
Before he could complete his sentence, I squeezed the trigger, aiming six inches below his wide brimmed hat. The other two men may have shrieked and I stilled their voices by squeezing the trigger, again, again, again, and again.
It was as if I didn’t have to think. My body reacted as if it were a revolver itself, built to destroy the destroyer.
The torch had been dropped; it glowed bright orange for a few seconds before burning out completely.
* * *
The Celestial acted as if he knew I was coming to save him. He pulled the noose from his neck. He didn’t say anything to me and I nothing to him. I picked his hat up off the ground and handed it to him, but instead of putting it on, he slipped it on my head instead. I didn’t know if it was meant to be a memento or a disguise, but I was touched either way.
He got on one of the men’s horses. I pulled off a coat from the burlap-haired dead man and placed it on the back of my mare. I had been riding bareback and could use some padding going home. We then headed in opposite directions. I knew that I would never see the Celestial again.
* * *
The next night all everyone could talk about were the three hakujin men that were found dead at Hawk Creek.
“Godawful Injuns,” Maggie murmured. “Savages.”
The other girls chattered about how dangerous our region had become.
“You feeling orai?” Ne-san asked me. She said that my face was as white as snow. “Is it the monthly time?”
I nodded. My monthly flow was heavy over the past year. How could I stay and work under these conditions?
“Go upstairs,” she said. “I’ll explain to Marudome-san.”
Once I was in my room, I changed out of my dress and ripped open the hem. I had fifty dollars in coins, about the same amount I brought over to this country. I could do a lot with fifty dollars. I had hid some of Marudome-san’s old clothes from doing the laundry that week and started to put them on. His shirt lay loose on my body, perfect for concealing my breasts, which weren’t that big anyway. I had woven rope from my kimono which I used as a belt around the pants. The hair—I plaited quickly into a singular braid. With the Celestial’s hat on my head, I looked like a younger version of him, perhaps a younger brother. I then put on the dead man’s coat and slid open the eastern facing window. I could barely fit through, but I did fit. I climbed down the drainpipe and, once my feet hit the ground, I raced for the mare.
The crescent moon was barely visible. A storm must have been on its way, based on how fast the clouds were moving. As they traveled over the slip of the moon, the crescent seemed to wink at me knowingly.
Traveling on the mare, I wondered what the girls and Marudome-san would say when they discovered I was missing. Maggie may blame the Indians, say that I was kidnapped. Marudome-san would assume that it had to do with his marriage proposal. Ne-san would secretly suspect that I had escaped with the Celestial, chasing a future that we girls could only dream of. And she would be halfway right.
THE MASTER OF TEA
by
Kimberly Richardson
— :: —
The hooded figure darted silently through the dark streets, hoping like hell that Time was on its side; it needed to be, for all their sakes. The blurred form dashed along, making sure not to step in any of the large puddles on the ground for fear of breaking its stride or perhaps getting caught by a trap laid by one who wanted to get rich quickly through the pain of others. As it rounded a corner leading to a street lined with small houses, it stopped to sniff the air carefully, then reached for the bag slung on its back and felt for the contents inside. Yes, it was still there. The figure grinned, hidden by the low hanging hood, and set off again toward its destination. As it darted down the well-lit street, it took care not to glance on either side for fear that someone who sat on their porch would suddenly take note of a blurred form running impossibly fast down their street and think about calling the local authorities. The figure took a left and found itself down a lonely and very dark alleyway. It stopped once more and sniffed the air and this time, the smell grew stronger. Just in time, it thought as it carefully walked down the alley, not paying attention to the cats that lurked around, hoping for a morsel of food to fall onto the dirty and cobbled street. One cat, a black and white tabby that looked to be slightly malnourished, brushed against the figure’s black pant leg, causing it to stop in anticipation and look down. The cat only had one eye, yet that eye looked right at the face of the figure. The figure stared at the cat for a moment, then chuckled as it reached in a side pocket and pulled out a small bit of meat pie from a leftover lunch. The figure placed the bit on the alley floor and the cat immediately devoured it within seconds.
“You are hungry,” said the figure in a low tone, to which the cat purred and rubbed itself against the leg again. As the figure bent down to pet the cat, a door at the end of the alley opened, spilling light in the darkness. The figure then stood up and walked calmly toward the pool of light, all traces of wanting to pet the cat gone from its memory. Just as it reached the opening, it removed the hood, revealing a man with a shock of long black ha
ir with one thick strand of white that fell lower than the rest of his hair, framing a face that was ruggedly handsome and yet cold at the same time. His smoky grey eyes narrowed cautiously as he took in his surroundings; there were several tables covered in faded pieces of fabric with mismatched chairs all around. The dazzling light from outside proved to be dimmer inside as it came from a single light that hung in the center of the ceiling. People of various ages, races, and genders sat all around in groups or alone, each with their cup nestled close to them. These people used their cups to escape, forget or even die, yet the man did not care for such things. He slowly made his way through the middle of the room, causing many an onlooker to gasp out loud at the figure.
“It’s… it’s… him,” whispered one grizzled man to another. A woman dressed in a gaudy red silk dress that was too tight for her to breathe in narrowed her eyes then took a long sip from her tattered cup. The man focused his eyes on the door in the back of the room. Just as he reached the door, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Damn, he thought as he slowly turned around. Not now.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” asked a pile of rags that took the form of a human, although the stench proved otherwise. The being smiled, revealing rotten teeth that emitted a sharp and stinging smell, yet the man did not budge. “Eh? D’ya hear me? What business have you—” The speaker barely completed his sentence when his eyes bulged out of their sockets as the man grabbed his hand faster than a raven in flight and began to squeeze, popping the joints and causing a sickening sound.
“I have no reason to speak with you,” said the figure calmly. “I am here to see Dragonfly.” The dirty man tried to say something yet met with more pain as the man squeezed harder.
“Of course, you are here to see him,” said a silken voice behind him. The man released the hand, then sent the dirty rags spiraling into a table several feet away. He turned around to face the source of the voice, not caring that the dirty rags man now held his broken hand in the crook of his other arm and whimpered loudly. “Please, come in. We have been expecting you.”
He stared into the face of a woman, or, at least that’s what he thought it was, leaning against the doorway that led to the office. The being wore a long purple silk dress that accentuated every curve on its body and from what the man could tell, it was a nice body indeed. Long black hair draped over one eye while the other one in violet stared blankly at the man. Deep purple lips curved themselves in a seductive smile that caused the man to glance away, if only for a moment. The smooth porcelain face was simple and yet so smooth that it took all of his will not to reach out and touch its skin. “Are you feeling well? Perhaps I could get you—”
“No. I’m fine. Let’s do this.” The sensual creature smiled again as it placed a slender hand with long purple painted fingernails on the man’s shoulder and led him into the office and closed the door behind them. Instantly, the smells from the first room were replaced with scents of lemon, cinnamon and… something else. He frowned for a moment, his instincts coming into play, then shifted his gaze to the center table where a large man dressed in a loosely fitting red robe sat. The eerily beautiful figure in purple walked over to the man and placed its hands on the man’s shoulder, then whispered into his ear. Immediately, the man began to laugh just as the purple being smirked as now both sets of eyes focused on the lone man who stood as if ready to fight.
“Please, please, have a seat, Jinyo. We are not enemies, correct?” Jinyo bowed low before Dragonfly, yet kept his thoughts in check. Although he had worked with the large man for years, he still kept his guard up and always knew that Dragonfly was heavily armed and could do away with anyone with just a snap of his fingers. Jinyo walked over to the table and sat down directly across from him, noticing that the single light in the room was directly over Dragonfly. Coincidence, he thought then snapped to attention as the purple figure waved a hand in his direction, then said in a low sultry voice, “Jinyo, what do you have for us today? It has been quite some time since we last saw you.”
“I am sorry, but have we met before? I do not remember you.”
The purple dressed beauty smirked again, then tapped a purple fingernail against its cheek. It almost looked hurt. “Jinyo, surely you remember me? I am Silver Needle.” Suddenly, memories came flashing back to Jinyo and soon, the image of a young man dressed in rags that barely covered the sores on his skin came rushing back. Jinyo sucked in a breath, unable to believe who or what he had become. The last time he saw Silver Needle was over five years ago. He was merely an adolescent, a scrawny man, and yet… Jinyo looked at the figure that stood behind Dragonfly and sighed, then rubbed a calloused hand over his face. It had been a long time.
“Silver Needle. You look—”
“Much better. Thank you for noticing.” Silver Needle took several steps away from Dragonfly, then found a seat in a darkened corner and disappeared into the quiet. Dragonfly’s eyes never strayed from Jinyo’s face as Jinyo, now recovered from the shock of seeing Silver Needle, reached behind him for his bag. His eyes remained focused on Dragonfly.
“I have new items for you.”
“I have no doubt. Out of all of my dealers, you are the one who never ceases to amaze me. Show me, then. Show me what new wonders you have acquired.”
Jinyo slowly brought the bag around to the table, opened it carefully, and pulled out several large tins in various colours. He slid one of them over to Dragonfly, then sat back and patiently waited. Dragonfly took the tin in his large chubby hand, opened the lid, and took a deep sniff. Freshly picked about a day ago, hints of citrus with a back bite that would be welcomed. He took another sniff then closed the lid.
“Jinyo, I have to hand it to you. You have been our best tea dealer these past couple of years and just when I think I have sampled it all, you return with even more delights. Tell me, where did you get this one from?’
“East of the Windblown Mountains. Small remote village that grows their own tea leaves. I had been searching for them for two months before I stumbled upon their village by accident. That one is called Calling Spring.” Dragonfly took another sniff of the tin, and then snapped his fingers, signaling Silver Needle. Within several seconds, Silver Needle appeared with a small tea pot filled with hot water and a small cup. Dragonfly slid the tin over to Silver Needle, who began preparing a cup of tea for his master. “Only one spoonful of the brew. Very potent. Let it steep for one minute.” Silver Needle nodded in his direction, then prepared the tea in silence.
“Will you take a cup with me, Jinyo? As old friends, perhaps?” Jinyo smiled, yet there was nothing friendly in the smile; as long as he could remember, he and Dragonfly had not really been friends but rather work associates. True, he had taken a cup of tea with Dragonfly every so often, yet it was never a regular thing whenever he swept into the city. And here was Dragonfly asking him to join him in a cup of very fine tea. Jinyo looked over at Silver Needle and nodded, giving him permission to prepare another cup. “I suppose that the price remains the same, then? Ten gold pieces?”
“As we agreed,” Jinyo replied. Dragonfly nodded and grunted just as Silver Needle began to pour the two cups. As soon as the fragrant liquid hit Jinyo’s nose, he felt himself back at the small village populated with happy and youthful looking villagers and their days of bliss and laid back attitudes. Not like here, he thought as Silver Needle gently brought his cup to him and placed it delicately before him. He stared at the light green fragrant liquid that sat in the bone china cup, then took it in his left hand while his right hand cupped below and lifted it to his lips. Through the years, he had learned how to sip very hot tea without blowing on it to cool it down. A thin trickle of tea slid down his tongue and into his throat, scalding the average person, yet it barely caused him discomfort. He drank the entire cup, then set it down before him, noticing that both Dragonfly’s and Silver Needle’s surprised eyes were on him.
“Another trick you’ve learned on your travels?” said Dragonfly with a hint of a
sarcastic smile. “You must have learned that from the Monks of Singing Bowl. Impressive.”
“I learn what I can, Dragonfly. Now, shall we discuss the payment?”
Dragonfly said nothing but snapped his fingers again, prompting Silver Needle to leave the room. A few minutes later, he returned with a small cloth bag, then handed it to Dragonfly.
“As agreed. Ten gold pieces.” He set the bag on the table, to which Jinyo deftly picked it up and stored it in a side pocket of his pants.
“And now, I must go. Enjoy your tea. Until we meet again.” Jinyo stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder then turned and walked toward the front door.
“Silver! Show Master Jinyo out.”
A slender hand fell on his shoulder. “Please, Master Jinyo. Let me escort you out through the rabble.” Jinyo grunted approval and soon the two left the silent comfort of Dragonfly’s room and back into the throng of the unwashed. As soon as the two stepped foot into the room, all eyes turned toward them. Even the man wearing the unwashed rags took a good look at him with hateful eyes, his tea cup halfway to his lips.
“Master Jinyo is leaving,” said Silver Needle in a voice that carried across the room. “I would suggest that everyone keep their distance or else deal with Dragonfly.” Upon hearing Dragonfly’s name, everyone turned back to what they were doing and quickly ignored the two as they walked by without another glance. When they reached the door to the alley, Silver Needle released Jinyo’s shoulder, then said in a low almost seductive tone, “Jinyo, it was good to see you again.”
“And… you as well.”
Silver Needle’s eyes, both uncovered from his hair, stared long into Jinyo’s mistrusting ones. “I am still the same, Jinyo. No matter how I may look to you, I am still the same kid that looked up to you. I still do.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked back inside, closing the door and sealing off his past forever. Jinyo sighed, then made his way back into the city. As soon as he reached the end of the alley, he heard a soft meow. Looking down at the garbage cans, he saw the same black and while cat, huddled in a corner, meowing to anyone who would listen.
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