The Geisha with the Green Eyes

by India Millar

  My own bed was warm and comfortable. For my body, anyway, but not for my conscience.

  Oh, Danjuro. What have I done?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Memories leave no shadows.

  Yet I see you in

  Each shade

  I argued with myself in every odd moment. Should I tell Danjuro or not? When I was on my own, I found myself muttering out loud, asking myself “what if” questions and then answering them. Even Nekko began to look at me strangely.

  It was not the simple fact that I had made love – if you could call it that – with Akira. For the first time, I thought bitterly that I might just as well be one of the poor women behind the lattices, out there in the Floating World. My purchaser had not even been a man of status and good reputation. He was a rich man, but a gangster, nothing more. My world tumbled around me as my proud illusions of being a geisha crumbled to dust. To make matters worse, I had enjoyed it. I had suddenly found the man I thought an ugly thug intensely attractive. Had the yakuza stripped all my pretensions away and revealed the real me? No longer the proud geisha, but the whore who was no better than her sisters in the gutter. Ah, but that hurt! I burned with shame as I thought of Danjuro. Oh, but I was sorry! I did not, for one moment, fool myself into thinking that I was in love with the yakuza. No, never that. But I yearned for him. Every fragment of my body wanted to touch him, my sex longed for him. Neither the love globes nor any patron could make me want him any less. It was not at all how I felt about Danjuro, who I wanted with not just my body but my soul. Even the knowledge that Danjuro could – and possibly did – take any woman that caught his fancy didn’t make it any easier. He was, after all, a man, and in this man’s world that was only to be expected. No, the simple truth was that I was terrified that when I saw Danjuro again, I might not feel the same about him. That I had lost something truly precious.

  At least I was wrong about that.

  Danjuro was absent for over two weeks. I fretted, convincing myself that somehow he had found out and was so angry that he no longer wanted to see me.

  The girls teased me unmercifully, saying I had swapped one powerful danna for another and that I was greedy, mourning the absence of my first lover. I laughed with them, but ached for both men. Greedy? Perhaps so. But there was no telling my body that.

  When Danjuro did turn up, he took me by surprise, for which I was intensely grateful. At least I had not had time to dither and worry. He came to the Hidden House at a bare hour’s notice, Auntie said. She had to divert a patron to Kiku and, even worse, had to give him a discount.

  I kept my eyes on the floor, sure he would read the truth in them. But no, Danjuro had other things on his mind. He drummed his fingers on the matting, his whole body tense, and I realized quickly that he was almost as nervous as I was. Fear began to raise gooseflesh on my arms and the short hairs at the back of my neck stood up.

  “Danjuro…” He silenced me with a gesture and glanced around as if he thought we might be overheard. He had no need to worry, I had developed a second sense as to when Auntie was crouched at her spy hole, and I knew that today we were alone.

  “Midori No Me.” His tone was formal. I flinched, expecting bad news as one might expect a blow from an uplifted fist. “I am sorry. I have ignored you shamefully. But there is a reason for this. I cannot tell you anything at the moment. I wish I could, but I don’t know myself what is going to happen…yet. I have come tonight to tell you I am going away for some time. As soon as I return, I will send for you. I am sorry.”

  I stared at him aghast. This stumbling, almost incoherent man was not Danjuro. I knew him well enough to know that he was not acting. He simply could not find the right words. At least that was comforting, in an odd way. I shot questions at him: where was he going? How long for? What was so important that he couldn’t trust me with it?

  He simply shook his head and took my hand in his. It was such a tender gesture that I burst into tears.

  “Midori-chan, no. No tears for me. For us. I will come back to you, I promise. And when I do come back, it will be to take you away from this place. Please, just remember that. As long as there is breath in my body, I will come for you.”

  He licked the tears from my face and laid me down gently on the futon. Our lovemaking was so tender, so sweet, it was like nothing I had ever known. Not even from Danjuro. And certainly not from Akira. Perhaps for the first time, I knew the difference between love and lust and realized with a heart that was fit to break that the two could be joined in the same person. Now, when Danjuro was about to leave me, I knew that he was the only man I wanted. Would ever want.

  Suddenly, I needed to tell him about Akira. Not just that I had had sex with him, but that I had enjoyed every minute of it. If Danjuro no longer wanted me, then that was only fair. But I couldn’t let him go with that blackness on my conscience.

  “Danjuro, before you go, there is something I must tell you.” I paused, trying to find the right words.

  Danjuro shook his head. “I know,” he said. My lips formed the word “no” silently. He did not know. He could not know. “I know. I know what happened. I can guess how the yakuza made you feel. If he was not my enemy, I would admire him. He is an extraordinary man. But take care while I am away, Midori-chan.” His brow creased and when he spoke it was not the words I expected. “You will be safe with the yakuza. No one will hurt you whilst it is known that he is your danna. But wait for me, in your heart.”

  He kissed my lips softly, rose, and was gone. I lay down on the futon, huddling into the warmth left by his body, inhaling his clean, masculine smell from the bedding. I was bewildered and relieved. Danjuro did know. How, I had no idea. But at least he knew, and still he cared for me. I cried myself to sleep. But with Danjuro or without him, life had to go on at the Hidden House.

  But not life as we had always known it. Not life as we had always assumed it would be. The foreign Barbarians were everywhere. Not in the Hidden House – yet! – but they began to appear regularly in the Green Tea House and were commonplace in the streets of Edo. Auntie claimed she could not tell one Barbarian from another, but I could, easily. Some had blue eyes, some brown. All had fair hair, but in so many different shades it was like looking at a tree in autumn. Some had hairy faces, some just mustaches. Others were clean shaven. And with just a little concentration, one could see the differences in their features, although those features were never as expressive as a Japanese face.

  And they had money. Lots and lots of it. Some of them came to us to save our souls, they said. They wanted us to worship at the shrine of their god. We were bewildered by that. We had no problem adding one more god to those we already had, but that was not good enough for them. Rather, they wanted us to put aside our ancestral gods and worship only their god. The very idea! They obviously did not realize that this would not only lose our souls rather than save them, but would have been a gross insult to each and every one of our ancestors. But apart from the soul-stealers, many of them claimed to be in Edo to trade. They wanted silk, jade, porcelain, gold. Only the very best. Mori-san said his business was booming with them. And it was Mori-san that put a new idea into Auntie’s head.

  I was half foreign Barbarian, he pointed out. Could that mean that I would be able to learn the Barbarian language easily? That would be useful to both Auntie and Mori-san. They both looked at me with growing interest. I glanced from one to the other, worried. I had heard the Barbarians speak, and the strange, guttural sounds they made meant nothing to me. It was like listening to foxes bark at each other when the moon was full. Neither Auntie nor my patron would hear my protests. An appointment was made for me with the translator most of the Barbarians seemed to favor, and he set to work training my tongue. It was impossible at first. I could not get my lips around these strange sounds, and when I did, the words meant nothing at all. But Auntie indicated – with her stick – that I must persevere, and gradually it became easier. Once I had grasped a few words, Auntie allowed me to be
present at the Green Tea House when Barbarians were present, much to the disgust of the tea house geisha! Not to speak, just to listen. It became much easier, once I could see the expression that went with the words. I soon realized that I had been correct when I had thought that the translator was not telling the whole truth when he translated. Many words and remarks were omitted. And I could see why!

  It had never occurred to me that the foreign Barbarians found us as strange as we found them. That to them, our customs were crude and often revolting. Even the mixed bathing in the bathhouses, it appeared, was obscene to them. This did not, of course, stop them moving on from the tea house to the courtesans, but I was not surprised about that. That was the nature of men the world over.

  Very soon, I could understand and even speak English much better than the translator. Auntie and Mori-san were delighted. Auntie dispensed with the expensive translator and even allowed Mori-san to use my services when he was negotiating with the Barbarian merchants – as long, of course, as the negotiations took place in the Tea House. It rapidly became obvious that the Barbarians themselves were both amused and pleased to have me as a translator. This in turn led to yet more customers for Auntie, as what they called “meetings” began to take place more and more often in the Green Tea House.

  I was amazed to find that the Barbarians were interested in me. They wanted to hear my story and were shocked when I told them that I had been abandoned by my mother, raised in the Floating World, and trained as a geisha when I was old enough. No mention, of course, of the Hidden House. Was it true, they asked, that young girls were often sold into slavery to please men? And that most geisha and courtesans were actually slaves?

  I had great difficulty explaining all that to them. Didn’t I mind, they asked. I explained that that was just the way things were, and it was normal. Didn’t they have slaves in their country? That question made them deeply uncomfortable, and their answers were mumbled, so I guessed that they did. I steered the conversation into safer channels, and they relaxed again.

  I was so busy helping Auntie and Mori-san that my services were barely called for by the patrons. I was faintly bewildered. My life had changed, certainly, but was it better? I did not miss the patrons, not for a minute! But I had no Danjuro. No lover to take me in his arms and make me feel whole. I missed my trips to the kabuki, deeply. Mori-san offered to take me, but I declined. It would have been so different. I would have spent the whole performance wishing I was watching Danjuro. The startling truth was that he had simply disappeared.

  The whole of Edo was abuzz with the gossip. Danjuro had gone. He had left no message, nothing. An understudy had stepped into his robes, but it was not the same. The Floating World loved a mystery, and there were those who insisted that it was all a prank to gain publicity for the kabuki. That Danjuro would simply turn up unannounced and strut back onto the stage as if he had never left it. Others said he had been murdered. Or that he had run off with a nobleman’s wife and was hiding in fear of his life.

  I listened to it all, but said nothing. Instinctively, I knew that none of it was true, but along with everyone else, I had no idea what had really happened. I clung to Danjuro’s last words, that he would come back for me, no matter what. I had nothing else to hope for. I was glad that Auntie was keeping me so busy. The translation work especially took all my attention and stopped my thoughts from wandering to Danjuro. When I was alone, it was different. I wept for him with silent tears that could attract no attention. I wondered endlessly if I had driven him away, if it was my behavior with Akira that had been too much. If only… The words echoed like a jeering ghost in my lonely thoughts.

  And then Akira came back.

  Auntie was nervous. It showed in her voice, in her expression. We all tensed, wondering what else was about to happen in this strange new world we were all living in? What was so momentous that even Auntie was uncomfortable? No announcement was made, no word circulated, but all at once, yakuza were lounging about the Green Tea House and the Hidden House. Lording it over the girls as if they owned the place. Even Big and Bigger seemed less themselves, less sure of their mastery of us all. Their normal sneers were replaced by scowls and sullen looks.

  It quickly became obvious that I had been appointed spokesman. I was Auntie’s favorite, the girls insisted. I was to ask her what was happening. Or if not Auntie, then Bigger. He would know. Bigger liked me, I must talk to him. Their nervousness infected me, and I trembled as I approached Bigger. I took Nekko with me to give me courage, and he grinned at the cat, which reassured me at least a little. I looked at Bigger – really looked – for the first time in months. He had lost weight, and his cheekbones pushed at his skin. Even his gums seemed to have receded, making his teeth appear long and pointed. I kneeled down and bowed quickly, before my knees gave way.

  “So, Midori No Me, one of you girls has finally come to find out what is happening, have you? I wondered how long it would take.”

  I spoke to the tatami matting, not daring to raise my face. “Bigger-san. There seems to be so much happening. Not just in the Hidden House, but in Edo and the whole of the country. The girls are worried.”

  “And so they should be. Sit up, Midori No Me. I’m tired of looking at the top of your head. You’ve been translating for Auntie, haven’t you?” I nodded. “And not even you have picked up any hints?”

  What should I say? In truth, I knew nothing at all of Auntie’s business. I simply shook my head.

  “Well, dear Midori-san. I’m afraid I don’t bring you good news. Or perhaps it is good news, for you.” The emphasis he placed on “you” was unsettling. I risked an open stare and he smiled bitterly. “Auntie no longer owns either the Hidden House or the Green Tea House. She has sold them both. She is staying with the courtesy title of manager, but basically she is staying because Willow Road is her life. She has nothing else but the Floating World and would surely pine away and die if she left it. Your new master has a tender heart, it seems.”

  For once, I was very glad of the training I had been given over the years. Training in how to keep a straight face. How to smile when you wanted to cry. How to laugh in spite of pain. Truly, Danjuro had said I was an excellent actor! In spite of the fact that I was burning with curiosity, I simply smiled in polite inquiry.

  Bigger laughed, not taken in at all. “You would sit there all day before you asked, wouldn’t you? Go on, guess who has bought Auntie out.”

  I considered. One of the patrons, I supposed. Mori-san? He was probably rich enough, but I doubted he would be able to bring himself to do it. Then, with a surge of hope, Danjuro? Bigger had said it was good news for me, hadn’t he? The desire must have shown, or perhaps Bigger sensed it, as he shook his head.

  “Danjuro is still missing,” he said. There was anger in his voice and face. “Big is mad with worry. The fool has gone to search for him. Even if he finds him, Danjuro will not thank him. Whatever his mysterious business is, he will not return until it’s finished. No, Midori No Me, the gods have not smiled on you quite that much. Or perhaps they have, for all I know. Your new master is Akira-san. You are now owned by a yakuza.”

  The afternoon sun on my face was suddenly hot. I stared at Bigger in disbelief. Akira had bought Auntie out? Why? Not just for my sake, no. In spite of what he had said, I wondered if part of it was really to take revenge on Danjuro. Or was it simply that he had seen an excellent business opportunity and decided to take advantage of it? Or was it simply the whim of a very rich man?

  Bigger tired of me suddenly and waved me away. “Go tell the other girls. Give them the good news.” He snickered and I scooped up Nekko and bowed my way out.

  The girls were stunned. Quite literally, for it was the only time I had ever seen them all so quiet. Then they looked at each other and started firing questions, at both me and Mineko. Mineko simply shrugged. She knew nothing, she said. I could offer no more. Until Bigger had told me, I had known nothing either. Could Bigger be lying, just to be nasty? I thought not. A
nd Big had really gone chasing after Danjuro? So Bigger said.

  They all formed their lips into little purses, jingling the change of the gossip amongst themselves. What did it mean to them? What was to happen to the Hidden House? Would things change? I stared at them in exasperation. Certainly, I was privileged in that I was allowed to mingle with the Barbarians, but could they not see that the whole world was changing? That it was impossible for the Hidden House to continue as it always had? I tried to explain this, and was greeted with wails of fear. What did I think was going to happen? I had no idea. But whatever it was, this was only the start. They glared at me and accused me of trying to frighten them. I left them chattering amongst themselves like sparrows at dawn.

  Akira took his own good time to turn up. For weeks, we expected each day that this would be the day he made his appearance. But no. Because of this, when he did enter the Hidden House it came as a shock. We had expected it for so long and it had not happened, I think we all had decided that nothing was going to change after all.

  We were all ushered into Auntie’s rooms by one of the yakuza who had taken to hanging about the Hidden House. It was late morning, and half of the girls were still yawning and stretching. Only Mineko looked alert. Akira was sitting in Auntie’s chair. We were all shocked, and I heard Masaki mutter that he thought he owned the place. I elbowed her quickly, and she bit her lip in mortification at her silly mistake. Akira either did not hear or pretended not to. He greeted us all by name, me last, and waved his arm expansively, inviting us to sit down.

  “My dear girls.” He beamed. “You will no doubt have found out by now that I have bought the Hidden House and the Green Tea House. And all of you with it, of course. I have also bought a number of other houses on Willow Road. In fact, I now own a great deal of it.”