With a sigh Tora crossed Suzaku Avenue and entered the other market through its tiled and painted gateway. Tantalizing food smells greeted him. Stands and ambulatory vendors dispensed bean dumplings, fried rice cakes, steamed seafood and noodles in fragrant broth. Tora's mouth watered, but he decided to conserve his limited funds for the evening. He stopped only to buy some pickles, a local specialty of radish slices with red pepper and seaweed. These he carried with him wrapped in a piece of oiled paper, chewing while he wandered about and peered at wares or eyed the girls. When the pickles were gone, he decided this market also had nothing suitable to offer. Enough time had been wasted. Already the setting sun slanted across the rooftops and it would soon be dark. He tossed the paper on a refuse heap near a vegetable stall and left for the Willow Quarter.
Walking northeast, he crossed Suzaku Avenue again and entered a more affluent merchant quarter. Buildings and shop fronts were wider and many of the wealthier merchants lived in large two-storied buildings above their shops.
Halfway down one street, Tora passed a very large silk merchant's premises. It reminded him of the murdered girl and her sash, and he thought he might find something here to please the little maid. He entered, slipping off his shoes, and stepped up to the raised platform of the sales area.
The shop's owner and several clerks were busy waiting on groups of seated customers. In the back a wizened middle-aged woman with a sharp nose and small, hard eyes was bent over ledgers and an abacus.
Tora sat down. The shop's owner, a short man in his early forties with a fleshy face and a thin mustache, glanced over and signalled to a young clerk who came to ask Tora's pleasure.
"I'd like to buy a sash for a young lady. Something bright," said Tora, craning his neck to see the fabrics in front of the other customers.
The young clerk hesitated. "How much was the gentleman prepared to spend?" he asked.
"Oh, you can go as high as twenty coppers," said Tora generously. He felt his lonely status very acutely.
The clerk did not quite sneer- Tora looked too tall and muscular for that- but he said coldly, "You will find the cheaper stuffs in the next street. This is Kurata's. We carry only fine silks and brocades."
"Well," asked Tora, "what's wrong with a small bit of brocade?"
The clerk shook his head. "Even a small bit would cost a great deal more than a string of coppers. We cater mostly to the 'good people' and even supply the palace."
Tora raised his eyebrows. "More than a whole string of coppers?" He looked about him. "You mean that flowered stuff over there might be made into clothes for His August Majesty?"
The clerk nodded.
Tora jumped up and strode to where two officials in their best robes and court hats were discussing several rolls of flowered brocade. Picking up a red one with golden chrysanthemums, he stared at it closely. The clerk ran after him with little cries of dismay, while the two officials watched with surprise.
"You would sell this to His Majesty, would you?" Tora asked the clerk, gathering a piece into his large fist to test its strength.
"Yes, yes," cried the clerk, wringing his hands, "but please don't do that. The fabric is very fragile. Rough hands can quite destroy it."
Tora relinquished the brocade reluctantly. "It's soft all right. Of course I like a bit more color. How much would such a thing cost?"
One of the officials burst into laughter. "He has good taste!" he cried and said to Tora, "Oh, just ten bars of silver. There's enough there for a court robe, if you like. Or perhaps you were thinking of a hunting coat?" His companion guffawed.
Tora regarded them with wrinkled brow. "No. I just want a sash for a little maid I've got my eye on," he told them.
This caused even more merriment. The other official cried, "Why, sir! In that case you may wish to purchase my ox and carriage to impress the lady when you pick her up." This time even the young clerk could not suppress a grin.
"What's going on here?" snapped a sharp voice behind Tora. "What does this fellow want?"
Tora turned and looked down at the shop's owner, or rather at his bald spot, inadequately covered by a topknot thickened with false hair.
"Oh," stuttered the clerk. "Nothing, Mr. Kurata. The gentleman was just inquiring about a sash."
"A sash? You're a fool, Yotsugi. This man cannot afford brocade." The shopkeeper turned to Tora. "A sash from this brocade costs twenty silver pieces, more than someone like you can earn in years. We have nothing for you or your woman. You'd better leave."
Tora looked at the man closely and did not like what he saw. There was meanness in the small eyes and compressed lips. Neither did he appreciate being made the butt of a joke. Turning to the two officials, he said, "I may take you up on your offer just as soon as I start collecting bribes like you fellows." Then he nodded to the clerk and departed.
In the next street he purchased a cheerful cotton sash in a pattern of white cranes flying above blue waves from a properly accommodating shopkeeper and tucked it in his sleeve. A couple of streets farther he found a baker of sweet rice cakes favored by the ladies. He bought an elegantly wrapped box of the most select sweets and put it in his other sleeve. By now it was getting dusk, and Tora turned his steps towards the river.
Between Fourth Avenue and Kyogo Street, along the Kamo River, stretched the Willow Quarter, named after the willows that grew on the bank. Here a lively trade catered to pleasures of the body, from the most basic of food, drink and sex to the more refined aesthetic delights of music and dance.
The sun was gone and twilight had fallen; the streets were already shadowed in darkness, while above still stretched a luminous violet sky with the first faint stars. Ahead Tora saw the gate to the amusement quarter. It sparkled with the lights of many-colored lanterns, and the first faint sounds of music reached his ears.
He increased his pace and passed into a fairyland of lights. They were suspended from the branches of the willows and the eaves of the wine houses, and swayed in the soft breeze which came from across the softly gurgling river. Warm colored light fell on the robes of pretty women who peered from doors and windows and caught the brilliant colors of the elegant robes of wealthy customers strolling along the river.
Tora looked and yearned for the expensive goods on display, but he could not afford the prices charged in the best houses of assignation, or in any houses for that matter. He consoled himself by engaging in lighthearted banter with the pretty girls behind the wooden grilles he passed.
The wine houses and restaurants were not all prohibitively expensive and quite good. Tora had become something of a regular at the Willow, unimaginatively named, but offering excellent value in food, drink and entertainment.
Here he was greeted by the gap-toothed auntie who arranged private entertainments with some of the best courtesans of the quarter.
"Tora-san," she cackled. "We have been expecting you, the girls and I. Surely on the night of the spring festival a strapping, handsome fellow like you will wish to enjoy the clouds and the rain?"
"Auntie-san," said Tora, bowing with a soulful look, "I am your most devoted admirer, but my station in life does not permit me to enjoy the company of ladies such as yourself or your companions. Please accept this insignificant present instead." He presented her with the box of sweets.
"Ooh!" Auntie received the box with delight and peered inside. "Foolish boy!" she cried, giving him a playful slap on the arm, "if you did not waste your money on stupid old women like me, you would warm your august implement in the grotto of a thousand delights tonight. Surely by now the poor bird must be quite worn out looking for its nest. Won't you let Auntie find it a cozy resting place? We'll just put it on account."
"Ah, in that case…" Tora leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
She burst into hysterical laughter, shook her finger at him, and cried, "One of these days, my pretty young cock, you'll meet a woman who'll take you at your word. Now run along! Your friends are waiting. Enjoy the food and wine. And ma
ybe, if you like one of the pretties, Auntie will make it right for you."
Tora gave her a bear hug, much to her delight, and then went along the hallway and into a large room where five boisterous men were sitting around a brazier warming bottles of wine.
"You're late, Tora," cried a scrawny fellow with permanently bowed legs and a sunken chest. He was the tatami-maker Ueda, his physique the result of generations of Uedas sitting cross-legged and bent over straw mats. "We had to start without you. There's room next to Kichibei."
Tora grinned and flopped down next to a muscular, heavily tatooed porter, who shouted, "Bring more wine! A very thirsty fellow has just arrived."
"He's not the only one," grumbled a pudgy young man in the thread-bare blue robe of a minor clerk, turning an empty bottle upside down.
"You'll never make a night of it at your rate, Danjuro!" teased his middle-aged neighbor who was a potter and never could get all the red clay from under his fingernails. "We've pooled our money, Tora. Fifty coppers will cover food, drink and the bounciest little bottom in the quarter."
"Sorry, Osada." Tora pulled the remnants of his wages from his sash and counted the coppers on the string. "Fifteen is all I can spare tonight."
After some cries of protest, Osada said, "Well, you can eat and drink, but it's not enough for any real fun."
Tora handed over the fifteen coppers with a sigh. "I was hoping to bring my own girl," he said, "but I couldn't find one in time."
"You should make your master pay you more," suggested Danjuro. "I plan to celebrate the festival of blossoms properly, among the local 'blossoms.' But then, they don't work for nothing."
"I prefer to do the work myself," Tora said. "You poor fellows must be so out of practice that you have to pay for the action." Danjuro joined in the general laughter and raised his cup to Tora.
"Well put, Tora," applauded the gray-haired man. "Never mind your empty purse!" he told Tora consolingly. "You just eat and drink your fill, and if you should pass out from too much wine, you'll never know what you missed."
"Thanks, Kunisada," laughed Tora. "That's good advice from a pharmacist. I'm parched and starving at the same time. Where's the food?"
A waitress arrived with more warm rice wine. After cheerful discussion, they ordered a feast which included eggs, fish soup, marinated kisu fish and boiled chestnuts among other delicacies.
Tora drank deeply from his cup, refilled it, and looked around at the shining faces of his companions. "Here's to good company," he cried. "May we enjoy each other for many years."
"What?" cried Danjuro, moving away from him in mock horror. "Are you mad? I don't care what you think about my prowess, but you are much too bony for my taste. My appetite's for female flesh. I hope you haven't decided to sleep with one of us."
Tora grinned, shaking his head. "Sleeping is about all I'm doing tonight. It's not been my day. I was looking forward to a pleasant afternoon browsing about the markets and shops, but got an earful from a snooty merchant and a couple of crooked officials."
"What happened?" asked Kunisada.
"Any of you fellows know a silk peddler called Kurata?"
"You mean the big shop in Sameushi Street? Everybody here knows Kurata," said Kunisada.
Danjuro confirmed it. "Kurata! Now there's a lucky fellow with lots of money for women! They say he's had every charmer in the quarter at least once."
The potter burst out laughing. "You haven't heard! Kurata won't be back for a while," he said. "His old woman caught him with one of her maids and beat them both black and blue."
There was general laughter. Danjuro moaned, "Poor bastard! The old hen who lays all the eggs won't let the rooster at the pretty chicks any more."
The porter muttered, "Serves him right! He's a mean bastard! Beats the girls."
"Why doesn't he tell his old woman off?" asked Tora.
"That shop is the biggest in town," cried Ueda, "but it's the wife that owns it."
"How come?"
"He's adopted. Old Kurata's only daughter was so mean and ugly they couldn't find a guy willing to marry her, especially since the old man let it be known that she would keep the property. When she took up with the shop assistant and turned up with child, her father was so pleased he adopted the assistant, giving him his name along with his daughter. Lucky bastard!"
Danjuro sneered, "What's lucky about it? That old hag owns the place and she's at least fifteen years older than him and as ugly as a dried prune."
The waitress arrived with food and served them. Then the door opened again and three elegant female musicians slipped in. The one in front was a little older than the other two, perhaps in her thirties, but still quite handsome in her pale green silk gown with deep red under-robes. She carried a lute. The two girls with her were pretty, one particularly so, thought Tora. They had zithers and wore lilac silk and cream brocade respectively.
The men greeted them with pleasure, and the women bowed. Then they took their seats decorously against one wall and began to play.
Tora was not particularly fond of music, but could not take his eyes off the girl in the lilac gown. When she smiled at him, her cheeks dimpled charmingly. They played a selection of fashionable and popular songs which were well received. Kunisada offered them wine, which the older woman refused politely. Instead she asked for requests, and the company became very jovial. Several more rounds of wine were ordered, and Tora exchanged soulful glances with the pretty zither player. Then Danjuro asked the ladies to dance for them, but they shook their heads, the two girls giggling. Tora looked at his girl and folded his hands in entreaty. She nodded ever so slightly, glancing toward the door. Danjuro was showering all three women with suggestive compliments and, being more than a little drunk, ended up propositioning them. At this point, the older woman rose abruptly and signaled to the girls. All three bowed deeply and were gone.
"Now see what you've done, Danjuro!" grumbled Kunisada. "You have the manners of a pig. Don't you know a respectable musician from a streetwalker? You have insulted the famous Madame Sakaki."
But Danjuro only laughed and shouted for women. Immediately the auntie shoved in a gaggle of brightly robed and heavily made-up girls. In the confusion of shouting men and squealing females, Tora slipped from the room.
He caught up with the musicians as they were preparing to leave. "Wait, little sisters!" he called.
They stopped at the door, and the older woman said sharply, "I beg to be excused, sir. We have another party to play for."
Tora bowed to her. "Madame Sakaki," he said imploringly. "Please forgive the rude behavior of my friend. He was quite drunk with wine and your beauty. It is too bad he has no ear for music. As for me," he lied, "I only came to hear you play. Please allow me to invite you all to a nice dinner after your work is done. I want to make up for the unpleasantness."
Madame Sakaki smiled a little, but shook her head. "It is kind of you, sir, but quite impossible."
Tora hung his head. "I understand," he said. "It was a pleasure to hear a true artist. I have heard of a lute player who takes lessons from a professor at the university. Could it be you?"
Madame Sakaki flushed and drew herself up sharply. "No," she snapped. "That is Omaki. Now you must excuse us." She bowed and hurried off. The two younger women followed, the pretty one with a wink.
Tora looked after them disappointedly. Now what was he to do?
"Well?" The auntie had come up behind him. "Did you like the little zither player? I told her you admired her."
"Oh. I didn't know." Tora was crestfallen.
"You mean you let her go?" The auntie threw up her hands. "You must be stupid."
"Never mind, Auntie," sighed Tora. "Tell me about this girl Omaki. Is she here?"
"That one? You can forget her! She's taken. And I've washed my hands of her. Took her on because the professor asked me to, but she's unreliable. Always looking to catch a man."
"What do you mean, she's taken?"
"Never you mind! She'
s not here and I'm busy and don't have time for silly fools. Go away!"
Outside the lanterns glimmered in the scented darkness like fireflies among the trailing willows. Revellers crowded the streets in holiday garb and lovers embraced in the shadow of the trees. Tora spent an hour strolling about, smiling at the few unaccompanied girls. None proved free and easy company. His spirits low, he finally leaned against one of the willow trees and pondered what he should do. It was too early to go home. He had bragged about his plans, and the other servants would tease him unmercifully. On the other hand, he had not enough money left to go to a cheap brothel.
"Tora-san," whispered a voice at his shoulder. He turned, and there stood the pretty zither player, clutching her instrument to her chest and smiling at him. She said shyly, "I am finished for the night."
Tora's eyes widened in joyous surprise. "Sweetheart," he cried, "I was just making a wish and here it is already come true! I was wishing for you."
"Oh, go on!" She blushed and giggled. "We only met tonight."
"That's the way it hits some men! Like lightning! Nothing we can do about it, but suffer. Unless…" He looked at her beseechingly.
"You shouldn't say such things to a girl, Tora."
"You know my name, but I don't know yours. How can such a thing be?"
"I'm Michiko. And I know your name because the auntie at the Willow told me."
Bless the auntie, thought Tora. He liked Michiko and her artless manner. "Let's walk a little, Michiko," he said, "and if we see a good place to eat, let me buy you supper. You must be hungry and tired by now."
She smiled up at him. "Yes, thank you, Tora."
But all the restaurants and wine houses were too crowded by now and the private rooms were taken. Since Tora had designs beyond dinner, he began to feel frustrated.
"Why don't we buy some food at one of the stalls and take it back to my place?" Michiko suggested when she saw his glum face. "I live close by."
Rashomon Gate – A Mystery of Ancient Japan Page 11
