"Your wife is with child."
****
Hanako swept her already clean floor for the third time that day. She wiped her spotless table and straightened the books on Hiro's shelf. After she had fainted in the field, Hiro had hired several local boys to assist in the fields. She'd wanted to supervise, but he would only allow her to do so in the cool mornings and late in the afternoons. A chair had been set out for her at the edge of whatever field was being worked. She'd felt ridiculous sitting there doing nothing. Now and then, she would sneak out of her chair to do some work herself, but always Hiro would come over from his flower beds to urge her back to her seat or to take her back to the hut for a rest.
She had to admit the mid-afternoon naps were nice. Never had she imagined that she would be able to lie down in the middle of the day. But as her body changed, her energy waned quickly, and she argued less when Hiro brought her back to the house.
Today, rather than nap in the house, she decided to go outdoors and relax by the stream. Fishing net in hand, she sat on the bank. Hiro had already checked on her twice, making sure she sat in the shade and assuring himself that she sat securely on a flat rock on the creek side. The water tumbled over a shallow area, and Hanako had only to reach out her net and scoop the carp as they swam past. But the creek was relatively quiet today, and Hanako had to wait. A soft footfall behind her diverted her attention. Ginjiro stood behind her, a respectful distance away.
"Has my husband sent you as my keeper?"
"Tanaka-san worries about you and the child."
"I've fished here over half of my life. Nothing will happen to me."
Ginjiro said nothing for a moment. Hanako squirmed under his scrutiny. "Must you stay here? I know what I'm doing!"
He simply smiled. "Yes, you do. As do I."
"You're doing nothing, except to annoy me and frighten away the fish!"
He shook his head. "No, my lady. I am providing peace of mind for a friend."
"Peace of mind?"
"Yes. Tanaka-san knows the possibility of danger is small, but he knows also the unexpected can happen. If I am nearby, he will not worry that the effect of the unexpected will be great." He hesitated before adding, "Please help him to cope. If he could help you carry this child, he would gladly do it. But the gods have decreed only a woman can do this. All he can do is to make sure you are safe."
Hanako digested this point of view as she continued to wait for the fish to cross her vantage point. The afternoon's bounty was small, and she wasn't entirely sure whether it was because the fish were absent, or because she was too preoccupied to notice when they went by.
The next day, Ginjiro continued to act as a silent sentry whenever she ventured from the house. She spent hours grooming the horse, feeding the chickens, and doing other light chores, always aware of his presence. But now, having a new understanding of Hiro's reasoning, she came to accept it.
Hiro had summoned a prominent physician from Sapporo to come and examine her, demanding that she have only the best care. She had an extra-soft futon on which to rest and a great assortment of the freshest food to eat. She was used to eating her own homegrown vegetables and fish caught from the nearby stream, but now she sampled delicacies brought in from across the island, shellfish and ocean fish full of protein and nutrients to insure a healthy son.
Hiro had suggested they hire someone to come and cook for them, but Hanako had adamantly opposed the idea. "I need something to do besides simply growing larger and larger with our child," she'd declared. "You haven't complained about my cooking before. If you want me to eat this special food, I will do so, but you must let me prepare it."
But even cooking a large meal each evening didn't provide enough to keep her busy all day. Having worked so hard all her life, she was restless and bored with the inactivity. She wondered if her own mother had continued to work in the fields right up to the moment of childbirth, like many other women in the area. How she wished she had a mother to confide in, or even an aunt or grandmother!
She had complained about her boredom to Reiko during her last visit. The kindly neighbor had simply nodded sympathetically but offered no words of encouragement or advice. Hanako wondered if Reiko thought her ungrateful or eccentric. Most women would probably not complain of having too much time. She needed to learn patience.
The next day, Reiko returned with a bundle tied in a colorful silk scarf. Opening it, she produced two sets of knitting needles and several balls of yarn. "When I was with child, I found comfort in knitting. It kept my hands and mind busy while allowing the rest of my body to rest. If you like, I will show you how to make a small blanket for your child."
Hanako was overjoyed at the prospect of learning to knit something for the baby. Growing up, she had been envious of other girls who wore scarves and sweaters knit by their mothers or grandmothers. Having neither, she had endured the harsh winters without the warmth of those articles. Her child would always be warm, she vowed. She set about learning the skill with determination.
Reiko was a patient teacher, gently guiding Hanako's hands, taking out rows of uneven and missed stitches. All the while, she kept up a flow of conversation, drawing out all of Hanako's questions and fears, offering reassurance and advice. Hiro's reaction to her pregnancy was a topic they discussed more than once.
"I don't understand why he refuses to let me go to the north field. The cabbages are probably wilting from the sun!"
"You have other workers who are caring for those crops."
"But the work will go faster if I join them."
"If the plants can wilt from too much sunshine, so can you. Didn't your husband find you lying in the field after you had worked too hard?"
She was forced to admit that her fainting incident had occurred after a long day in the sunshine. "I could go only in the morning."
Reiko laid a hand on hers and waited for Hanako to look into her eyes. "Child, be thankful your husband has your health and comfort uppermost in his mind. I have seen women lose their children because they weren't able to rest and take nourishment when they needed it most. Let him take care of you while you keep your child safe in your womb."
Ashamed of her ungratefulness, Hanako nodded and returned to her knitting.
Reiko returned often, bringing more yarn and maternal comfort. Hanako looked forward to each visit. Once the blanket was finished, Reiko taught Hanako some fancier stitches. At first the needles seemed to have a mind of their own, but with practice the rows were almost as even as Reiko's. If the child was a girl, she would have some pretty clothes. She thought of her own clothing as a child — they had been castoffs given to her by sympathetic townspeople. Until she had married Hiro, she had never worn anything new, or what could be called pretty. This child would indeed be fortunate.
As a result of Reiko's visits, the months of Hanako's pregnancy flowed much faster. The baby now had clothing and lovely new bedding, and, thanks to another successful harvest, would eat good, nutritious meals.
Chapter Sixteen
Hiro was tending the plants closest to his home one morning when Reiko arrived. She greeted him politely, but instead of going inside, she watched him work.
"Is there something I can do for you, Nakamura-san?" he asked
"Would you allow me to bring some of these beautiful blossoms inside? I believe they would add loveliness to the inside of your home as well as the outside."
Memories of Hiro's boyhood home flooded him. His mother, Michiko Tanaka, had added elegance to each room of her home with her beautiful floral arrangements. He remembered how he had loved watching his mother spend time on each arrangement, placing each stem in a specific position in relationship to the rest. She was a master at ikebana, the art of flower arranging.
"Nakamura-san, I would welcome some fine floral arrangements. I am not certain my wife ever learned the art of ikebana."
"I thought not. The poor girl has not had the benefit of having a woman guide her. Nor has she had the luxury of ti
me for learning the arts of a gentlewoman. I would be happy to instruct her — if she so wishes."
Hiro bowed low to the wise woman. "You have my deepest gratitude for being here for her now. When she sees what you do with the flowers, I believe she will wish to learn from you, as she has enjoyed your instruction in knitting and embroidery. You are welcome to take whatever you wish from the garden."
****
Reiko watched her pupil's hands as they arranged the roses in the clay pot. It was a shame such young hands looked as rough as they did. The hard work Hanako had been forced to endure added ten years to her skin. So often she had ridden by, watching this young woman toil in the fields alone, providing the only support for her alcoholic father and lazy husband. Even Reiko's servants were not expected to work so hard. It was only right that Hanako, as the owner of these fields, could finally pursue more lady-like activities, sheltered from the cruel sun.
"Hanako-san," she began, "you must have cut yourself on the thorns. I have some cream that will help soothe those cuts, and it will make your skin soft. I have used it for many years when my hands felt rough and dry."
Hanako glanced up, a puzzled expression on her face. Reiko held her breath as the younger woman studied her own hands, and then Reiko's. Working on the farm, Hanako was probably accustomed to having cuts on her hands. Hopefully she hadn't been insulted by the suggestion of using hand cream.
"Nakamura-san, I would be honored if you would show me how to care for my hands. I have never known about this cream. Do you use it on your face, too?"
Reiko smiled. The girl was very perceptive. "I will bring some of my special lotions tomorrow. There are some things you can prepare from the plants in your fields, but others are purchased in the city. I'm sure your husband can arrange to get them."
****
Over the next several months, Hanako and Hiro shared the joy of the pregnancy together. Hiro continued his vigilant efforts to keep Hanako from working too hard. The gardens flourished and again brought in a healthy profit. Hanako was forced to acknowledge Hiro's flower "hobby" brought in nearly as much as her vegetables.
Nothing excited Hiro more than to feel his son move within Hanako's belly. In the evenings, he massaged her swollen feet and aching back. He made her tea and bought special sweets and gifts to cheer her when she despaired at her increasing size. And at night, he cradled her in his arms as if to protect her and the child they had created. Hanako had never felt more cherished.
The New Year brought hope and optimism for the future. There had been no reports about the ronin for months. It was the ninth year of the emperor Meiji's reign, the year the Western world called 1876.
The entire house shone. Walls had been washed, floors swept, and every corner thoroughly cleaned. Of course, Hanako had not been allowed to do any of the heavy cleaning herself. She had directed the activities, performed by women brought in from the village who were grateful for the work. Bowls of hot rice were mixed with vinegar for sushi, and special prayers were said for the spirits of deceased relatives. Decorative lanterns hung from the ceiling, and everyone prepared to visit the temple.
She and Hiro walked through the streets, enjoying the sights and greeting the other villagers. Progress was relatively slow, as Hanako was now growing larger, and walking was more of a chore than she had ever remembered. As they made their way through the streets, they were recognized and greeted happily. Hiro continued to be held in esteem as a local leader, even though he refused to hold an official office.
Several young boys danced around with strings of firecrackers. They threw the noisemakers about, shouting greetings as they went. The boys' antics soon turned into a contest to see who could throw his firecrackers higher, but one errant missile landed on the dried grass of a roof. The grass immediately burst into flames.
A shout of alarm spread through the crowd.
Merrymakers abandoned their celebration to spring into action. Hiro pushed Hanako to a bench, ordering her to stay away from the danger. His deep, resonant voice, developed through years of military training, could be heard cutting through the chaos as he organized the volunteers into a line, passing buckets of water from a well to the blaze. Hanako was torn between jumping into the fray and abiding by her husband's wishes to protect the baby.
Thankfully, the fire was contained quickly, though there was much damage to the structure. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, when a small, weakened voice was heard coming from the blackened structure. A woman screamed from the back of the crowd.
"Mother! My mother is inside!"
Hiro, standing near the doorway, turned and dashed back into the building. Heavy smoke and the darkness of the night made it difficult for him to navigate through the rooms, but he continued to plunge through. He called out to the woman, begging her to help him find her. Following the sound of her voice, he found her huddled in a corner. A beam had fallen on her leg, trapping her on her ofuton.
Gathering all his strength, he raised the beam and moved it aside. Then he lifted her and turned to carry her to safety. He had to rely on his memory to find his way back through the blinding smoke. His exertion from moving the beam and carrying the woman had his lungs burning from the smoke. He quickened his steps, making a few wrong turns before finally locating the doorway.
He had nearly reached the threshold when he heard the deadly sound of cracking wood. Frantically, he sprinted toward the opening and thought he had succeeded, when a beam fell and hit him solidly across the shoulders. The impact had him falling forward with the woman sprawled in front of him. Through the smoke, he saw someone else taking her from him before his world went black.
****
Hanako bathed her husband's face with cool water and sat back on the cushion next to his ofuton. It had been three days since the fire, and he had yet to open his eyes.
The physician had come each day, treating his wounds and giving her instructions for his care. His grave expression told Hanako the extent of Hiro's injuries was great, and she feared her happiness with him was at an end. When she wasn't sitting by his side, she would light incense and offer prayers, earnestly petitioning the gods for his recovery.
Ginjiro spent part of each evening with Hiro. After spending the day tending the animals, he would come and encourage Hanako to rest and eat while he sat with his friend. Reiko came during the day and served the food people brought. Her sons often came with her and took care of chores around the farm. Neighbors and people from the village came as well, bearing food and wishes for Hiro's recovery.
The daughter of the woman Hiro had saved came as well. "My mother was weary of the celebrations and had just gone home to rest," she told Hanako. "If your husband had not risked his life, she would have suffered much more than a broken leg."
Although she appreciated all the support, Hanako despaired of ever looking into her husband's eyes again. Surrounded by the succulent dishes brought by the village women, she found it difficult to eat. Household duties were ignored, and the flower arrangements she had so painstakingly created wilted. Reiko finally convinced her to take care of herself, to consider the child she carried.
"You are doing all you can for your husband. When he awakens, he will want to see a cheerful home, preparing for a healthy baby. Surely you do not wish to endanger your child by not feeding him."
Hanako laid a hand on her rounded belly. Through the turmoil, she had forgotten about the plans she and Hiro had made to prepare for the baby. Would Hiro ever hold their child? She shook the thought away. She had to remain optimistic.
"Nakamura-san, you are so wise. I must think of our child. He will arrive in a few more weeks, and will need some more clothing."
"I will help you. But first you must eat."
A week later, Hanako sat near the window, counting stitches on the tiny sweater Reiko had showed her how to make. Finding an error, she grumbled in frustration and tore out the offending stitches.
"What has upset my little flower?"
The voice
was raspy and soft in volume, but at the first syllable, the knitting fell to the floor. Hanako threw herself into her husband's arms and sobbed. "You have returned to me!" she cried.
A gentle hand ran up and down her spine. "I did not realize I had left," he said. "I was dreaming of you and our child. I saw you with him in the field, teaching him about the plants you grow. You were so happy. And then you found some of your plants had not grown as they should. No matter what you did, the plants continued to wilt and die. I tried to call out to you, to help you, but my voice would not come. I tried again and again and realized my throat was dry, and I needed a drink. And that is when I awakened to find you cursing at your yarn."
She sat up, wiping her tears. "I was not cursing at the yarn."
"Perhaps not, but you were definitely letting the yarn know what you thought of it," he teased.
****
Reiko, coming in with a tea tray, found husband and wife talking, wrapped in each other's arms. She saw the look in their eyes and remembered a time when she, too, experienced that magic. Silently, she turned around and left to have tea alone in another room.
Ginjiro nodded to her as he came in from the field.
"How is he?" he inquired.
"He's awake now."
His eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! I must see him." He turned toward the bedroom but stopped when a hand caught his elbow.
"Yamada-san, I think you might want to delay your greeting." Reiko met his inquiring gaze with a serene smile. "He and his wife are getting reacquainted. They need some time alone. Perhaps you would like to have tea with me here in this room until they are finished?"
The Samurai's Garden Page 13