by India Millar
“I do miss going to the kabuki with you,” she said. “I can’t say I’m surprised about Akira-san. I thought he was too good to be true.”
She laughed and rubbed her neck and I was shocked to see that her throat was badly bruised.
“Mineko! What’s happened to your neck?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” she reassured me. Of course it didn’t. But even so… “It appears that some of the patrons are greatly interested in a geisha who isn’t supposed to feel pain. They all seem to want to see how far they can go before they make me shriek.” I gasped in horror, but Mineko grinned. “It’s alright, Midori-chan. I have it all worked out. They all start off in the same way. They give me a pinch or two, and then a slap on the bottom. I just stare modestly at the floor. Some of them pinch me a bit harder, and a few of them give me a punch.” No! Although Mineko seemed unconcerned, I was furious for her. “At that stage, I start to pout a bit. When they get to the stage of wanting to strangle me or shove something odd in my sex – one of the old sods tried to put his whole foot in there yesterday, and looking at the state of his wilting tree, I’m not in the least surprised – I start to wail and moan and then they are happy. All puffed up with pride that they managed to hurt the geisha who cannot feel pain.”
I looked at Mineko’s beaming face and started to laugh. Who was using who? Mineko grinned, but an anxious thought sobered me.
“Take care, Mineko. One day one of them might go too far, then you will be dead.”
She shrugged. “I know, there’s always a risk. But is it really more of a risk than any of you take?” What could I say to that? She was right, of course. I shrugged. “I’ve got a good voice, I can always scream if I think there’s any real danger. Anyway, tell me about the kabuki. What am I missing?”
We discussed the play, Mineko listening longingly. When I confided that I had told Danjuro about my dream of acting in the kabuki and he had said that it would never happen, she sighed deeply.
“I suppose it wouldn’t be a dream if it could come true.”
I found her words oddly comforting. But none of us had time to dwell on our hopes and wishes. The foreign Barbarians were no longer just in the streets of the Floating World, they were suddenly here, with us! Not in the Hidden House; Auntie said firmly that the Barbarians would be unable to appreciate our special nature. But she did allow them in the Green Tea House, and no doubt took their money happily. We all begged Auntie to let us take a peek at them. Was it true, Naruko asked, that they had tails? I said I thought not, as I had seen them in the streets and – at least in that respect – they appeared normal. She was greatly disappointed.
Auntie was so pleased at the thought of her strange, new guests that she eventually agreed to our pestering. We girls from the Hidden House would be allowed into the Green Tea House, but we must be discreet. We could walk casually past the open door where the visitors were being entertained, but only one at a time, and at discreet intervals.
We could hardly wait. I had been in the Green Tea House a couple of times, when Fumie had invited me to visit her, but the other girls had never set foot in the place, so that was an additional excitement. In spite of Auntie’s firm instructions, we all went across the courtyard in a group. The day was warm and very sunny, and I almost ran across in case the sun made marks on my face again.
We heard the foreign devils before we saw them and paused and looked at each other. I reassured the girls that I had heard one of them speak before, and he had sounded like that, like an animal snuffling in the hay. The girls looked at me in awe. Suddenly, I was the fount of knowledge about the foreign devils.
We took our turns slipping past the wide open door. Mineko went last, and then we all gathered behind the large reception room, our eyes and mouths wide with excitement. The foreign Barbarians had brought one of their women with them! We could hardly believe it.
The foreigners – with the exception of the woman – were seated on the tatami. They seemed deeply uncomfortable. We could get a partial glimpse of them through the gaps in the screens. Although they were correctly seated, with their legs crossed, every minute or so one or the other of them would stretch out their legs and then refold them carefully. Their hands looked huge clasped around the tiny sake cups, and I could not help but think that they were not enjoying the samisen music. Their expressions looked almost pained, but perhaps that was down to their discomfort on the tatami. And two of them had hairy faces! The other girls were more shocked by that than anything, but I said casually that I thought it was quite common amongst the Barbarians.
In spite of everything, it was the woman who fascinated us most. She was seated on a Western-style chair, and I could see Auntie looking at it with deep interest. The woman could not have sat on the tatami, anyway. Her skirts were far too tight to allow her to bend, and the bodice of her dress was so stiff I thought she must be finding it difficult to breathe. She wasn’t wearing a wig either, just a silly hat that looked as if it was going to fall over her eyes every time she turned her head. The woman was not drinking sake. She had a teacup in her hand, but she grimaced every time she took a sip from it.
What a rude person, I thought. If she didn’t like the delicious tea, then she should drink sake like her men. And if she didn’t like that, she could at least be polite enough to pretend she was enjoying the tea. Although, to be fair to her, she did not have the sort of face that looked as if it enjoyed a great deal at all.
The Barbarians had bought a translator with them. Judging by his accent, he did not come from Edo, but he was understandable enough when he spoke Japanese. I strained to listen, trying to match the Barbarians’ voices with the translated Japanese words. It was very difficult at first, but gradually I began to get the rhythm of it and became sure that the translator was not translating exactly. It just did not sound right, somehow. And the questions!
Amazingly, it was the woman who asked the most. Even more amazingly, her men paused in their conversation and listened to her respectfully. Strange indeed, the ways of these foreign devils!
Was it true, the woman asked, that all the girls in the tea houses were slaves? That they were never allowed out of the Tea House except under guard? That they were forced to entertain men for money? The woman Barbarian’s expression looked as if she was sucking a lemon. One of her men said something to her, very gently, and she frowned at him. I had no idea what she actually said, but I knew if any one of us had used that tone with a patron, we would have been thrown to the Boys for punishment. Except in the case of Mori-san, of course, but he was different.
The translator waited patiently for Auntie’s answer. She replied honestly enough. Of course the girls were not slaves. They could buy themselves out if they made enough money or a danna could always take them for himself. That was hardly being a slave, was it? And naturally they were allowed out of the tea house, provided they were suitably accompanied by a maid or two. As for entertaining men for money, what did the Barbarians think the girls were doing now? I think perhaps Auntie’s words were not translated exactly. In any event, the woman sucked in a deep breath and her ugly face looked outraged. Behind the screens, we pushed our fists into our mouths to stop ourselves from giggling out loud.
We couldn’t leave until the Barbarians themselves had gone or they would have seen us, and that would never do. As soon as the ugly woman had stopped asking silly questions, she nodded to the men and they rose and filed out. Several of the men, I noticed, looked with interest at the geisha who had played and sung for them, but they still followed the woman.
None of us could talk about anything else for days. We dissected every detail about the Barbarians, from their trousers to their funny, tight jackets. Those with hair all over their faces made us giggle endlessly. Did they, we wondered, also have hair all over their bodies? And the way they had done what the ugly woman told them! We decided eventually that she must be a very high-ranking woman in Barbarian society and that the men were her servants.
The cha
ir that the woman had sat on made its way to the Hidden House and Auntie used it every day from then on. She admitted it was not comfortable exactly, but it did make standing up so very much easier for her.
One even odder event happened on the day the foreign devils visited the Green Tea House. When we filed back into the Hidden House, I found Big waiting for me in my room. Nekko was nowhere to be seen, and I had to suppress a pang of worry that Big might have eaten him. I shouldn’t have worried. Nekko came back as soon as Big left.
I bowed deeply to Big and smiled politely, trying to hide my knocking knees. A visit from Big – or at least a visit that had not been ordered by Auntie – was unheard of, but at least on this occasion my conscience was clear. He grinned at me, lolling on the tatami as if this was his bedroom and I was the visitor.
“Come in, Midori No Me, come in. Been to take a look at the white Barbarians, have you?”
My throat was so dry I couldn’t speak. I nodded instead.
“You will not find him, you know. I don’t know why you’re bothering to look.”
I was bewildered. Find who? I cleared my throat and found a few words. “I was not looking for anybody, Big-san. I just wanted to take a look at the foreign Barbarians.”
I stayed in a half crouch as Big laughed. A nasty, jeering sound. “Oh, you don’t have to pretend with me, Midori. You were hoping that your father might have come to claim you, weren’t you? That he had come back to find you, after all these years.”
The idea was so similar to the thoughts I had had myself, I shivered. But it would never do, showing fear to Big. I kept my head low and murmured, “No, Big-san. That thought had not occurred to me.”
“Well, don’t bother thinking it.” Big got to his feet and stretched luxuriantly, like a healthy animal waking from sleep. “Don’t forget, I knew your mother. I knew her well. In fact, she relied on me as a friend. She forgot all about you as soon as she left the Floating World, and your red-haired Barbarian father never even laid eyes on you. Neither of them cared about you. Neither of them spared a single thought for their bastard half-breed. You take after your father, Midori No Me. He was ugly as well. The gods only know what your mother saw in him.”
Big shouldered his way out and I sank to the tatami as my legs refused to support me. I should have been deeply upset by his spiteful words, but I was not. He had tried too hard. He was doing his best to hurt me, and against all the odds I felt a tiny flicker of pity for Big. He hated me, and I suddenly realized that it was hardly surprising. He had loved my mother, but she had fled from the Floating World with her ugly lover, leaving me behind as a constant reminder of her. And now, I had stolen Danjuro from him. None of it was my fault, but Big did not see it like that.
If Big could hurt me in any way, he would do it. And he would enjoy it. I shivered. But I was not unhappy for long. Yet another sign of the changing times in the Floating World, Mori-san was given permission to take me out of the Hidden House. We were going to the river, to eat and float up and down on one of the many pleasure craft. Would I like that? I responded with unfeigned pleasure. I would love it.
Once outside the Hidden House, the change in Mori-san was remarkable. Although he barely came up to my chin, he told me firmly that I was to walk behind him. He strutted like a pigeon in heat, nodding regally to the many murmurs of greeting that he received. The more people looked at me, the prouder he became.
I struggled not to laugh at his posturing, hiding my face modestly behind my fan. But I had to admit that Mori-san came into his own on the boat. I had never actually been on water before, and I hung onto the rail tightly, hardly able to believe that this flimsy wooden vessel was not going to sink beneath our very feet. Mori-san allowed me to cling on to him and patted my arm reassuringly. I was even allowed to sit beside him on the deck.
It was so peaceful, so beautiful floating down the river that I forgot my initial fears very quickly and could not conceal my delight in everything I saw. This, then, was Edo! To me, seen from the river, it was a fairytale place. Mori-san saw the awe and fascination in my expression and promptly tried to turn it to his advantage.
“This could all be yours, Midori-chan. You could be out of the Floating World. Mistress of your own house, with your own servants.” He glanced at me sideway and added, “You could spend your days doing whatever you wanted, with no one to tell you to do this or do that.”
I was tempted. The air was so very sweet, the motion of the boat so soothing. For the first time in my entire life, I was free. The thought of returning to slavery in the Hidden House suddenly made me feel sick. Then I thought of the true alternative Mori-san was offering: a life spent as his servant, caring for his needs. Alternatively bullying him and cajoling him when I wanted anything. Bearing his children and worrying if I did not produce a boy child. Worrying every day that he might grow tired of me and might put me aside. No, I would be just as much a slave as Mori-san’s wife as I was as a geisha in the Hidden House. Suddenly, I was sure I caught a glimpse of Big, sliding into the crowd of people promenading along the river banks, and my mind was made up. I smiled as sweetly as I knew how.
“Ah, Mori-san. If it was up to me, I would be by your side in a moment. But alas, I am not free to make my own choice. You know that.”
He sighed and blew out his cheeks. “I will persevere with Auntie. I know you are her favorite.”
I was? Startling news indeed!
I was deeply sorry when we got off the boat. But more was to come. Mori-san had arranged for food to be served to us on the river bank and I lolled indolently as servants set out our food and drink. Even my new little maid Taneka was allowed to sit quite close to us and was served with food. She was so nervous I don’t think she tasted anything at all, which was a pity as it was delicious.
If only, I thought. If only Danjuro was unknown to me. If only I couldn’t feel my mother’s presence beside me, urging me not to give in, to take from life what I wanted, not what life wanted to give to me. If only I was somebody else. If only I didn’t know that a single day with Mori-san would drive me completely mad. If only…
They say that smugness is the one thing that is sure to annoy the gods. I had always thought that saying nonsense, but then I had never before had anything to be smug about. I was soon to find out that it was true.
We had barely finished our meal when a messenger ran up to Mori-san and handed him a scroll. He read it and tutted, but I could see that secretly he was pleased. An important client had arrived at his premises, he said, and had condescended to wait for him. He must leave immediately, but Taneka could escort me back to the Hidden House. I smiled and agreed. Of course, I understood. We were surely in no danger here in Edo.
I had had enough to eat and drink and the sun was seeking us out. I dreaded breaking out in brown marks again should it find us. I beckoned to Taneka and rose, brushing down my kimono. I was deeply reluctant to return to the Hidden House, so I decided we would walk alongside the river back into the Floating World. It was not the most direct way, but, oh, so very pleasant.
The assault was so professional that one moment I was sauntering, delighting in my freedom, and the next I was surrounded by men and was being hustled forward at a trot. I heard Taneka shriek and then nothing but the murmur of people going about their business on a sunny afternoon. One man had hold of each of my arms. It took all my breath to keep up with them, but even had I screamed it would have done no good. I was a woman, not even a so-called free woman, just a geisha. Nobody would have bothered to look twice, still less come to my aid.
We were hustled along, away from the Floating World rather than toward it. I looked around when I could and realized very quickly that I was hopelessly lost. I had no idea at all where we were. Mineko might have known where we were being taken, but I did not.
“Look straight ahead. Don’t bother gawping,” the man at my right arm said. I did as I was told. I wondered if Mori-san was behind all this. Did he believe that Auntie would never give way and s
o had decided to take me by force? The idea was deeply reassuring. Mori-san I could cope with. Easily. I almost smiled.
After a minute or so, and innumerable turns and twists in the narrow streets, we paused before a high door set in a wall. I had seen nothing like this in the Floating World and was curious rather than frightened. After all, if it was only Mori-san who was playing tricks, what did I have to be afraid of?
One of the men banged on the door and a peephole popped open and closed quickly. The door opened and I was hustled through into a garden. The Hidden House had a garden of sorts, in the courtyard between us and the Green Tea House. I had always thought it beautiful, but it paled into something very commonplace next to this garden.
Most gardens in Edo were laid out on Zen principles. Some carefully raked gravel, boulders, shrubs planted here and there and pruned unmercifully. If the garden was large, a tree or two for shade. This garden spat in the face of Zen. It was large and full of color. To my startled eyes, it appeared that every inch of space was filled with a riot of brilliant, flowering plants. Reds jostled whites, blues leaned companionably into pinks and yellows. It was breathtaking. I was breathless not just from the garden but also from a sudden, chilling knowledge.
This garden, this unconventional, truly beautiful garden, could never have anything to do with Mori-san. It would have made him ill with its colors and perfumes and sheer uncontrolled joy.
So if it was not Mori-san who had taken me, who was it?
Danjuro never entered my head. He had no need to snatch me off the streets. I was his for the taking, whenever and wherever he wanted me. Had I finally offended Big to the extent that he had decided to do something about me? Hadn’t I seen him earlier? No, this was not Big’s world. Whoever owned this house was a rich man. I had never seen anything like it.
I shivered with sudden terror. No one knew where I was. No one. Auntie would think me safe with Mori-san. If he did not deliver me back by the late evening, she might send one of the Boys to enquire after me. On the other hand, thinking me safe with Mori-san, she might simply get out her abacus and add more money to his bill.
