“Some German guests I showed to their room tried to detain me, but I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Could you come interpret for me?”
A good-natured man, Nabeshima sometimes secretly passed on to Tetsuyuki cake or roast beef that guests had left untouched.
“Just leave it to me.” He got up and followed Tetsuyuki. The German couple were still waiting for Tetsuyuki in the hallway. Nabeshima conversed with them for a long time, then turned toward Tetsuyuki with a smile.
“They had requested an interpreter, but due to some slip-up at the tour agency, they won’t get one until the day after tomorrow. They want you to be their guide in Kyoto tomorrow, and will give you a hundred U.S. dollars for your trouble.”
“Me? But I don’t understand a word of German!”
“It seems they don’t mind that. They’ve really taken to you.”
“Even so, if we can’t communicate, I can’t be their guide.”
Nabeshima and the German couple again negotiated. The three of them laughed and turned to look at Tetsuyuki.
“They say they’ll just follow your lead, and even if you can’t understand each other’s words, you’ll be able to communicate by spirit. They say ‘This young man’s honest. We feel at ease with him.’”
The next day Yōko planned to come to his apartment—the one day of the week he could hold her in his arms. But a hundred U.S. dollars amounted to a third of his monthly part-time income, and he would be able to afford a Christmas present for Yōko: the silver bracelet she had been wanting. He wasn’t very familiar with the layout of Kyoto and asked if he might invite someone who knew the city well to accompany them. Nabeshima relayed the question to the couple, who immediately gave their consent.
“Is this person who knows Kyoto well a man or a woman?” The question appeared to be Nabeshima’s own, reflecting his personal curiosity.
“A woman.”
“Is it the girl who sometimes comes to the back of the hotel?” A smile spread on Nabeshima’s hardy face. Tetsuyuki answered in the affirmative, taken aback. He had assumed that no one saw them. Nabeshima talked to the elderly couple, and the three of them again laughed, turning to Tetsuyuki.
“He said, ‘It appears he’s going to bring his girlfriend along. If he says she knows Kyoto well, who could doubt it? We’ll make sure not to disturb the two of them.’”
With Nabeshima interpreting, they determined the time and place to meet. Then with a smile and a wave the couple disappeared into their room.
“This is perfect. Tomorrow’s your day off, isn’t it?” Nabeshima asked as he put his white cap back on in the elevator. Then he went over the plan once more, adding that tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, the German couple would be waiting by a mailbox and public phone down the street to the right of the hotel entrance.
“If you went to the lobby to meet them, there’d be all kinds of gossip. The employees in this hotel are all pretty conniving.”
“I hear there are tensions in the office. Is it like that in the kitchen, too?”
“Cooks are all craftsmen of sorts and a lot of them have their idiosyncrasies, especially the section chief. He wears his ten years of training in France like a badge of honor and lords it over everyone from dawn till dusk. One guy who studied with him in France received some kind of fourth-order medal, and since he didn’t get one he’s been in a bad mood for some time now.”
“So then, getting a medal is that big a deal, huh?”
“As you get older you lose your sex appeal, but you have as much money as you need. All that’s left is a thirst for honor and recognition.” Then with a look of indifference he added: “That old guy is especially critical of me. He insisted that the essence of cuisine is in France, and asked me if I went all the way to Germany and spent three years just to learn to make Vienna sausages. I’ve heard plenty of boasting from that age-spotted face of his.” He got off the elevator and opened the hallway door to the kitchen. “Hey, whatever you do, don’t even think of working full-time in a hotel like this.”
Tetsuyuki returned to the lobby and assisted in attaching tags with room numbers to the Boston bags of a party of tourists. He recalled his father’s advice a month before he died. “You never know what life has in store for you, but if you’re going to spend it as a salaried worker, make sure it’s with a major corporation. If that doesn’t work out, then work in a government office. If you can’t get a job with either one of those, then any company will do, but just work conscientiously for ten years or so and save money until the right time comes along, and then start some business.
“If you’re able to work with a large corporation or in a government office, then stay with it no matter what. The wind doesn’t always blow from the same direction, and someday it will surely come your way. There are always those who quit, thinking, ‘The boss is bullying me’ or ‘I’m not really suited to this work,’ but no matter where they end up, it turns out that they’re bothered by the same things. And so they go from company to company and just end up as a salesman with some piddling outfit. Then, when they figure out that they’ve blown it, they’re already in their late forties and no longer worth much.
“But there’s the old saying: ‘Selling baking pans is also my business.’ If you can’t secure employment with a large company or a government office, then any small business will do. Just study and prepare to become lord of your own castle. A ramen shop will do, or even dealing junk. Just keep cultivating your own small plot. That’s the only secret to living, I can say with conviction after seventy years of seeing all kinds of people and having faced one setback after another.” He held and rubbed his son’s hands after muttering these last words, which rang now in Tetsuyuki’s ears.
“I don’t like to sound preachy, but just think of this as a sort of pompous last will and testament. There are people out there who have courage but lack endurance. And there are those who have hope but no courage. And some have as much hope and courage as anyone, but give up at the drop of a hat. Then there are lots who go through life enduring everything, but never rise to any challenge. Courage, hope, patience—only those who keep holding on to all three of these will achieve their potential. If one of them is lacking, then no end will be reached. I had courage and hope, but no patience. I was unable to wait for the right time. I couldn’t stick it out until a favorable wind blew my way. Someone who possesses all three of these qualities is the most fearsome of all. No matter he turns into a beggar or is sick and at death’s door, he’ll always crawl back up to the top.”
His father’s words rang true. Courage, hope, patience—these three words, trite as they may sound, presented him with a challenge. Repeating them in his mind, he lifted the heavy tagged bags and headed toward the elevator to take them to the guest rooms.
Tetsuyuki had taken the exam for employment in major companies and government offices, and three days ago he’d received the notification that he hadn’t passed. The moment the elevator doors closed, he resolved to take Section Chief Shimazaki’s advice and seek permanent employment at this hotel. He called out “Kin-chan!” and Kin immediately appeared in his mind’s eye: shining, his small, frigid eyes turned toward Tetsuyuki. What was Kin if not an embodiment of these three words? Then what was the nail that pierced his torso? As he was absorbed in these thoughts, the elevator stopped and a couple entered: a man who could be called elderly, and a woman about Yōko’s age.
“The meat today was kind of tough.”
“And the consommé was salty, too,” the woman responded. Having worked as a bellboy since spring, Tetsuyuki could immediately tell that such couples were not parent and child.
At 8:45, Tetsuyuki went to the place Nabeshima had mentioned. Although it was a Sunday, the street was crowded. Yōko sprang out of the throng, trying to surprise him.
“Did you eat a good breakfast?” she asked. Tetsuyuki was fond of Yōko’s morning fragrance. The scent she exuded when she was asleep—after all artificial fragrances had dissipate
d—was at times like that of an osmanthus blossom, at other times that of straw after it had soaked in the sunlight, and at still other times simply that of a woman’s body.
“I did exactly as you told me. I heated some milk, had bread and butter with cheese, and a whole tomato, too.” He took in Yōko’s fragrance as he answered.
“After I talked to you yesterday, I got out my German–Japanese and Japanese–German dictionaries. And I borrowed these from my dad.” She excitedly showed him a volume titled Easy German Conversation.
“I wanted to see you, and at the same time I wanted the hundred-dollar guide fee, so without thinking I let it slip out that I’d bring along a friend who was familiar with Kyoto. Is it really okay?”
“Two years ago I toured Kyoto with a friend, so I know my way around there.”
At exactly nine o’clock the elderly German couple came. Both were wearing brown overcoats and olive-green hats which, though different in shape, appeared to be from the same set. Tetsuyuki pointed at Yōko and said, “Yōko,” and then at himself and said, “Tetsu.” He thought “Tetsuyuki” would be too difficult for foreigners to remember.
Nodding, they repeated their names and shook hands. As they stood there in the street, Yōko leafed through the Japanese–German dictionary she had brought and pointed to the word for “train.” The German couple began to discuss something between themselves, and then said something to her slowly. She was able to catch the word she had pointed to, along with “taxi.”
“They seem to be asking which would be faster, a train or a taxi.”
“The train would be faster. We could take the Hankyū Line to Kawaramachi, and then take a cab from there. It would be both faster and cheaper. Tell them that.”
“You think I can say something like that?”
Yōko pointed to the word in her dictionary for “train,” and started walking ahead. At the ticket counter, the wife handed her big leather wallet to Tetsuyuki, who took out the necessary amount and made the purchase. They boarded the special express bound for Kawaramachi, and Tetsuyuki quickly secured seats for the couple. With Tetsuyuki in the seats behind them, Yōko opened her Easy German Conversation.
“I wonder if this has any phrases asking people what they want to see.” At length Yōko found something suitable and pointed that section out to the couple. They responded with the same words at the same time. Then, remembering that neither Tetsuyuki nor Yōko understood German, they began leafing through Yōko’s German–English dictionary. First, they pointed out the word meaning “garden,” and next the adjective for “quiet.”
“Hmm, a quiet garden. Are there any quiet gardens in Kyoto on a Sunday? All of them would be crawling with tourists.”
Yōko thought for a while. “Oh, yes, there is one.”
“Where? Any temple that charges money to show its garden would be filled to capacity on a nice day like today, especially since the autumn leaves are at their best.”
“It isn’t a temple. It’s an ordinary house. An elderly woman in her eighties lives there alone.” She went on to say that it was close to the Shūgakuin Imperial Villa, and that when she had toured Kyoto two years previously, she happened to go past it. It was such a magnificent, elegant building in the pure Japanese style that she peered inside, and the woman who lived there invited her in and treated her to tea and sweets. Yōko sent her a thank-you note and then later New Year’s greetings, and always got a reply.
Arriving at Kawaramachi, Yōko found a public phone and dialed the number. Tetsuyuki and the German couple stood off to the side, avoiding the crowd and watching Yōko. Whenever their eyes met, the couple would smile gently at Tetsuyuki, who would return the look.
Yōko came running up to them. “She said we’re welcome to come by.”
“Won’t it be an imposition?”
“She said that she didn’t have anything on hand that would likely suit German tastes, but that we shouldn’t hesitate to come by.”
Tetsuyuki hailed a cab and urged the couple to get in.
“There’s also a house within the garden, a splendid, small retreat that looks as if Prince Genji might steal in for a visit.”
They passed the Shūgakuin Imperial Villa and came to an intersection where Yōko told the driver to turn right. Alongside a stream of clear moving water, the road sloped uphill gently. A forest of chestnut and oak trees stretched out before them, and they saw nothing that looked like human habitation. Yōko had the driver stop in front of a grove of tall bamboo.
“This is it? There’s a house here?”
“It’s inside this grove. The bamboo serves as a wall.”
To pay the taxi fare, the wife again handed her wallet to Tetsuyuki, who had the driver write a receipt just to make sure, and handed it back to her along with the change.
Along the way to Shūgakuin they had seen several old temples that seemed likely to attract the attention of foreigners, but the couple showed no particular interest in them and made no comment. Tetsuyuki felt something slightly suspicious about their lack of interest, but as they followed Yōko along the winding path through the bamboo grove where countless bright rays of light filtering through the leaves created geometric patterns, they would occasionally come to a stop and talk in low voices. Each time, Tetsuyuki and Yōko would also come to a standstill and wait for them. A large gate with a tiled roof opened and a gaunt elderly woman with a half-coat over her kimono stepped out. She wore small square glasses and, appearing to be rather unsteady on her feet, used a cane. Yōko rushed up to her. “We’re sorry to impose on you like this.”
“Not at all! Mine is a lonely life, with guests coming around only about once a year. I was happy to hear from you and have been on pins and needles since your call.” Her build was that of an old woman, but there was something bold and energetic about her manner of speaking. Yōko introduced her to Tetsuyuki and the German couple.
“I’m Sawamura Chiyono. Welcome to my home.”
When she introduced herself by name, Tetsuyuki realized that he did not yet know the German couple’s name. He opened the conversation book and showed them the phrase “What is your name?” They also seemed to have realized that they had not yet told anyone their names, and introduced themselves to Sawamura Chiyono as they shook her hand. Tetsuyuki did not catch their first names, but understood their last name.
“I believe they are Mr. and Mrs. Lang. Neither Yōko nor I understand German, but their last name sounds like Lang. At any rate, I’d like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Lang.”
“Please, make yourselves at home,” Sawamura Chiyono said to the foreign couple and showed her four sudden guests inside. Her Kyoto accent was clipped, and sounded slightly unnatural.
“Aren’t you from Kyoto?” Tetsuyuki asked.
“I’ve lived longer in Tokyo, but sometimes I do try to use Kyoto dialect.”
Just as Yōko had said, among the ancient pines and dwarf chestnut trees could be seen a one-story mansion appearing to cover more than seven thousand square feet which, with its stucco walls and thick cypress pillars, created an imposing scene in spite of its simplicity.
“The garden covers more than eighty thousand square feet. I prefer a garden in which trees and flowers grow as they like, but my late husband had gardeners come from a great distance to design it in the style of Kobori Enshū. Beyond that elevation in the lawn there is a pond in the southeast section, and they built a tea hut to the side of it. Since my husband died no one uses it, and now I just take naps there.”
Seemingly oblivious to the fact that her listeners were unable to understand Japanese, the old woman talked on and on to the properly dressed foreigners, who were seven or eight years her junior.
The husband opened the German–Japanese dictionary and pointed to the word “temple.” Tetsuyuki shook his head and, finding the words for “this is her house” in the phrase book, pointed it out to them. This elicited an exclamation of admiration from them. When they reached the front door after walking along the round st
epping stones, their edges encased in moss, Mr. and Mrs. Lang called to Tetsuyuki to stop and handed him an envelope. It was apparently the guide fee they had promised him, and so he thanked them and put it in his pocket. It felt rather thick for a single hundred-dollar bill, and it occurred to him that perhaps they had included a little extra.
Two maids were waiting at the front door. One was a plump woman over fifty, the other a young woman of about eighteen or nineteen with a somewhat somber expression. Sawamura Chiyono invited the four of them to go inside, but Mr. and Mrs. Lang conveyed through gestures the desire to see the garden.
“They must want to be alone and take their time,” said Sawamura Chiyono and, turning to the servants, she added: “Show them to the tea hut. From there they can look out over the pond, and the view of momiji leaves falling on the stone lantern is really nice.”
Tetsuyuki showed Mr. and Mrs. Lang his watch, and conveyed through gestures and words from the dictionary that it was now past ten, and they should return to the house by noon. They nodded demonstratively, and shook hands again with everyone.
Birds were alighting here and there in the spacious garden to forage on something or other, and black-eared kites were flying up from the area around the tea hut. After Mr. and Mrs. Lang disappeared over the knoll, Yōko and Tetsuyuki were shown inside.
“Thank you for your annual New Year’s card.” The old woman bowed her head slightly, peering into Yōko’s face as the younger of the maids helped her to sit down on a cushion. “You seem to have matured a lot since I first met you.”
“You, too, seem to be in good spirits. You look a lot younger than before.”
At Yōko’s words, the old woman waved her hand covered with small age spots and said: “I try to be careful, and walk as much as I can, but even so my legs have gotten weak.” In the tokonoma alcove was a scroll painting of two cranes standing in a field of snow and a white ceramic vase with a single camellia of the same color. Yōko looked at Tetsuyuki and a short laugh escaped as she cast her eyes down, thereby communicating to the old woman what she could not have said in words. Was that on purpose or did it just come out without thought? Tetsuyuki could not tell, but feeling the gaze of the old woman, he could not very well laugh back. But neither could he think of anything to talk about, and just fumbled about in his pocket for a cigarette.
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