“It’s beautiful,” she said, going over to the window. The suit left her whole back bare. “See how beautiful the sky is, there by the mountains.”
Sharply etched golden rays of sunlight slanted down over the mountain. “Isn’t that Mt. Hiei?” Taichiro asked.
“Yes. It makes me think of spears stabbing through our fate. And what about your mother?” She turned to him. “I want her to come here, your father too.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“I do! I’m serious.” Suddenly Keiko clung to him. “Come swimming with me. I want to be in cold, cold water. You promised, you know. You promised to go for a motorboat ride too. That’s been a promise ever since you came.” She nestled against him, letting his body support her. “Are you going back to Kamakura because you talked to your mother? You’ll find they’ve come here. Probably your father won’t want to, but your mother will see to it.”
“Keiko, did you seduce him?”
Her face against his chest, she shook her head. “Did I seduce you? Did I?”
His arms were around her bare back. “I’m not talking about myself. Don’t change the subject.”
“Don’t you change it! I’m asking if I seduced you. Is that what you think?” She paused. “How can a man be so cruel to a girl he’s holding in his arms, asking her if she seduced his father?” Keiko started to weep. “What do you want me to say? I think I’ll drown myself.…”
As he gripped her trembling shoulders he felt one of the shoulder straps under his hand. He began slipping it down, exposing her breast halfway, and then slipped off the other strap. Keiko lurched against him, arching her back, her naked breasts thrust forward. “Don’t! Not the right one. Please! Please, not the right one!” Tears were streaming from her tight-shut eyes.
Keiko draped a large towel around her shoulders before going out to swim. Taichiro was in his shirtsleeves. Together they went down past the lobby to the garden facing the lake. A tall tree in front of them was blooming with white flowers that looked like hibiscus.
There were swimming pools on both sides of the garden. Children were using the one set in the lawn on the right. The pool on the left was fenced in, on a slight elevation at the edge of the lawn.
Taichiro stopped at the gate to the swimming pool on the left.
“Aren’t you coming?” Keiko asked.
“No, I’ll wait for you.” He felt a little self-conscious being with a girl who attracted so much attention.
“Oh? I’d just like a quick dip,” she said. “It’s my first this year, and I want to see how I do.”
Weeping willows and cherry trees stood at intervals on the lawn along the shore.
Taichiro sat down on the bench in the shade of an old elm and looked toward the pool. He could not see Keiko until she was standing on the low diving board, poised to dive. Keiko’s taut body was silhouetted against Lake Biwa and the distant mountains. The mountains were veiled in mist. A faint, elusive pink tinged the darkening waters of the lake. By now the yacht sails reflected the tranquil colors of evening. Keiko dived in, sending up a cloud of spray.
After Keiko left the pool she rented a motorboat and asked Taichiro to come for a ride.
“It’s getting dark,” he said. “Why not go tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” Her eyes lighted up. “Then you’ll stay? You’ll really stay?… I don’t know about tomorrow. Isn’t that so? Anyway, just keep this one promise. We’ll come right back. For a little while I want to be out on the water with you. I want us to cut through our fate and drift along on the waves. Tomorrow always escapes us. Let’s go today.” She pulled him by the arm. “See how many boats are still out!”
Three hours later Ueno Otoko heard of the motorboat accident on Lake Biwa over the radio and rushed by car to the hotel. She had learned from the news report that a girl named Keiko had been picked up by one of the sailboats. Keiko was in bed when she arrived.
As Otoko came into the bedroom she asked the maid in attendance whether Keiko was still unconscious.
“She’s under a sedative,” the maid replied.
“Then she’s out of danger?”
“The doctor said there’s nothing to worry about. She looked dead when they brought her ashore, but they gave her artificial respiration and soon revived her. She began thrashing around furiously, calling the name of the man who was with her.”
“How is he?”
“They haven’t found him yet, in spite of all the people looking for him.”
“They haven’t?” There was a tremor in Otoko’s voice. She went back to the other room and looked out at the lake. The lights of motorboats were circling restlessly over the black sheet of water stretching far to the left of the hotel.
“All the motorboats around here are out, not just ours,” the maid called to her. “The police boats are out too, and they’ve made bonfires along the shore. But it’s probably too late to save him.”
Otoko gripped the window curtain.
Away from the uneasily stirring lights of the motorboats, an excursion steamer festooned with red lanterns moved slowly toward the hotel pier. Fireworks could be seen shooting up from the opposite bank.
Otoko noticed that her knees were trembling. Then her whole body began to tremble and the steamer’s lanterns seemed to be swaying. With an effort, she turned away. The bedroom door was open. Keiko’s bed caught her eye, and she hurried back into the bedroom as if forgetting she had been there before.
Keiko was sleeping peacefully. Her breathing was calm.
Otoko became all the more uneasy. “Can we leave her like this?”
The maid nodded.
“When will she wake up?”
“I don’t know.”
Otoko put her hand against Keiko’s forehead. The cool, damp skin felt sticky. Keiko’s face was drained of color except for a faint redness in the cheeks.
Her hair lay spread out over her pillow in a tangled mass, so black that it still looked wet. There was a glimpse of her lovely teeth between parted lips. Both arms were at her side under the blanket. As she lay there, head turned straight up, Keiko’s pure, innocent sleeping face touched Otoko deeply. Her face seemed to be bidding farewell, to Otoko and to life.
Otoko was reaching out to shake her into consciousness when she heard a knock at the door of the other room. The maid went to open the door.
Oki Toshio and his wife came in. As soon as he saw Otoko he stopped.
“So you’re Miss Ueno,” said Fumiko.
It was their first meeting.
“So you’re the one who had my son killed.” Her voice was quiet and emotionless.
Otoko began to move her lips, but no words came out. She was leaning over Keiko’s bed, propping herself up with one arm. Fumiko came toward her. Otoko shrank away.
Fumiko grasped the front of Keiko’s night kimono with both hands and shook her. “Wake up! Wake up!” As she shook her harder and harder Keiko’s head rocked back and forth. “Why don’t you wake up?”
“It’s no use,” Otoko told her. “She’s under sedation.”
“I have to ask her something.” Fumiko was still trying to rouse her. “It’s a matter of life or death for my son!”
“Let’s wait a while,” said Oki. “All those people out there are looking for him.” He put his arm around her shoulder, and they left the room.
With a sigh, Otoko sank down on the bed, staring at Keiko’s sleeping face. Tears were trickling from the corners of Keiko’s eyes.
“Keiko!”
Keiko opened her eyes. Tears were still sparkling in them as she looked up at Otoko.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Howard Scott Hibbett took his doctorate in Japanese literature at Harvard. He has lived in Japan at various times, has taught at the University of California, and is now Professor of Japanese Literature at Harvard. Among other Japanese fiction, he has translated The Key and Diary of a Mad Old Man by Junichiro Tanizaki.
ALSO BY
YASUNARI KAWABATA
—The New York Times Book Review
SNOW COUNTRY
To this haunting novel of wasted love, Yasunari Kawabata brings the brushstroke suggestiveness and astonishing grasp of motive that have earned him the Nobel Prize for Literature. As he chronicles the affair between a wealthy dilettante and the mountain geisha who gives herself to him without illusions or regrets, one of Japan’s greatest writers creates a work that is dense in implication and exalting in its sadness.
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JAPANESE CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE AVAILABLE FROM VINTAGE BOOKS
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A classic of international literature, The Makioka Sisters is a poignant yet unsparingly observant portrait of four aristocratic Osaka women clinging to a vanishing way of life on the eve of World War II.
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RUNAWAY HORSES
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A story of the pursuit of beauty and spiritual enlightenment, The Temple of Dawn powerfully dramatizes the Japanese experience from the eve of World War II through the postwar era.
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The dramatic climax to the tetralogy, this novel synthesizes themes from the three previous novels: the decay of Japan’s courtly tradition; the essence of Buddhism; and Mishima’s apocalyptic vision of the modern age.
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THE TEMPLE OF THE GOLDEN PAVILION
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THE ELEPHANT VANISHES
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Beauty and Sadness Page 16
