Chiyo could scarcely breathe. Only six girls were to go to Tokyo. Four were already listed. Everyone in class had become still. She could not look away from the board.
Sensei likes my voice. Her thoughts rang so loudly, she thought the others must hear. She didn’t care. She had to be chosen. And why wouldn’t she? She thought of the moment Headmaster had her sing for Watanabe-sensei and of Sensei’s pleased reaction. He said he wanted to work with me. He must add my name!
Watanabe-sensei consulted a note in his hand, raised his chalk, and wrote again. Ito Kimiko.
Kimiko had been pleasant to her. Chiyo was pleased to see her listed.
Hoshi said in a near whisper, “Kimiko, plan to shop with me in Tokyo. I know where we can find kimono jackets pretty enough for the empress.”
Chiyo only half-listened. One space was left. It has to be me! She clasped Momo so tightly between her hands, her fingers turned white. Time slowed, as if hours passed while she waited to see the final name placed on the board.
At last, Watanabe-sensei raised his chalk. He wrote: Fujii Michi.
Chiyo sank back in her chair, her body going limp. She had tried to warn herself that she might not be selected. Now hope turned as black as her kokeshi doll’s head.
“Gomennasai, Miss Tamura,” Hoshi said in a pitying tone that was not sorry at all. “You must be so disappointed.”
Chiyo wanted to force her face into a calm mask. Thank you, Miss Miyamoto, she would say. You are kind.
She could not do that. Her face would not shape itself into serenity. Sweet words would not rise to her lips. Instead, she put Momo back into her pocket and stared straight ahead. Why send the general’s daughter to welcome the dolls when everyone had heard her say they should be destroyed?
To burn a small kokeshi belonging to a farmer’s daughter is a small offense, Chiyo told herself. To harm a doll sent in friendship and welcomed by the emperor is not. Even a general’s daughter would never risk that.
Yet uneasiness continued to run chill fingers along Chiyo’s spine.
Michi raised her hand. “Sensei, what days will the group be away?”
Watanabe-sensei looked as excited as the class. “We will leave on Wednesday, the second of March, and stay with private families in Tokyo. The dolls’ grand welcome will take place on March third.”
“That’s Hinamatsuri,” Hoshi said.
“Hai, Miss Miyamoto,” Sensei agreed. “The welcome will be held on the day traditionally celebrated by families with their heirloom hina ningyo. On Friday, we return here.”
Michi spoke again, sounding close to tears. “I am so sorry. I cannot go. My grandmother is ill. She fears this will be her last Hinamatsuri. She wishes all her daughters and granddaughters to be with her. She has always loved that celebration.”
As others murmured in sympathy, Michi rubbed her palms across her eyes. “Sumimasen, Sensei. I cannot go with you to Tokyo.”
“Our sympathy is with you and your family, Miss Fujii,” Sensei said gently.
Chiyo couldn’t breathe. She felt sorry for Michi, but also as if she hovered above the classroom watching while Sensei erased the girl’s name from the board. Chalk dust and suspense floated in the air. Someone must replace Michi.
Sensei looked at Hana. Was he about to choose her? Chiyo’s hope sagged before she remembered that Hana was already on the list. “Miss Nakata,” Sensei asked Hana, “are you a good teacher?”
“Yes!” Hana’s quick smile brightened her entire face as she looked at Chiyo.
Had all the air been sucked from the room? There wasn’t any left for breathing. Chiyo clutched Momo, not caring if charcoal smeared her pocket.
Sensei turned again to the blackboard. In quick, bold strokes, he filled the space left by the erasure: Tamura Chiyo.
She was sorry for Michi’s disappointment, but in her mind, Chiyo leaped to her feet, shouting. I’m going! I’m to help welcome the American dolls!
She and Hana could talk of nothing else all that afternoon and evening and only settled to sleep when Mrs. Ogata insisted on silence.
The following morning, Watanabe-sensei called the six girls together after class to discuss the trip. They would travel by train. Oki-sensei would join them. But they would not be staying in private homes, after all. “General Miyamoto has arranged for all of you to share one large room in an esteemed hotel in Tokyo. Oki-sensei will stay with you, while I will spend the night nearby and join you in the morning.”
Chiyo looked at Hana, hardly daring to believe this could be true. They were to ride in a train. And stay in a hotel. Until she came to Tsuchiura, Chiyo had never left her mountain village, never even dreamed of such adventure.
When Kaito-sensei dismissed them for lunch, Hana and Chiyo skipped across the courtyard. They didn’t care who might see them behaving like five-year-olds. They were too excited to care.
“This is going to be the best time of our lives,” Hana exclaimed.
Chiyo tried to picture a city the size of Tokyo. “Have you ever been there?”
“Yes, with my parents. There’s so much to do. Wait until you see all the things for sale. There’s a lot to eat, too.”
Chiyo thought of the coins Yamada-san had given her. “Do you think we will have time to look in the shops?”
“If we do, Oki-sensei will insist on going with us. She won’t let any of us out of her sight in a city that big.”
“I won’t mind,” Chiyo said, “as long as she doesn’t make me practice dance in the street.”
Hana laughed. “I can see you now.” She spun around gracefully. “Bumping into everyone!”
Chiyo deliberately bumped into her and they both laughed. “Hoshi and Kimiko plan to shop,” Chiyo said.
“They’re used to the city, but I doubt Sensei will let them go alone.”
“I hope not.” Chiyo looked straight at Hana. “I want to keep an eye on Hoshi whenever she is near the American dolls.”
“We will both watch her,” Hana said, grinning. “That will add to the adventure!”
Hana could make an adventure of anything, Chiyo thought, and giggled. “Let’s watch her now. Let’s take our lunches and sit across the koi pond from Hoshi and her friends.”
“And smile!” Hana exclaimed. “With one hand over our eyes to suggest the now sightless doll!”
Shrieking with laughter, they ran to the dining hall, where they had to be quieter, but kept looking at each other and giggling.
They each picked up a bento box, then hurried to the front of the school and picked a grassy spot directly across the pond from Hoshi.
Hoshi frowned, but it was Kimiko who called, “What are you two doing out here?”
“No room in the dining hall,” Hana said, and smiled sweetly while covering her eyes.
Trying not to laugh, Chiyo smiled just as sweetly, with her eyes covered, too.
“You’re acting like babies,” Hoshi said. When Chiyo looked again, all three of the other girls had turned their kimonoed backs and were facing away from the pond.
It made the dried herring and pickled plums in their bento boxes taste that much better.
When they returned to Kaito-sensei’s class, Chiyo still giggled whenever she met Hana’s eyes. She tried hard to keep her attention on the kanji characters she was copying, but what were characters compared to the excitement of going to Tokyo?
Class had nearly ended for the day when Headmaster Hanarai’s assistant stepped into the room and spoke briefly with Sensei.
Chiyo tried to tell herself that it had nothing to do with her. There was no reason for small hairs on her arms to be standing upright. Then Sensei looked directly at her. “Miss Tamura, you may be dismissed early. Someone is waiting for you in Headmaster Hanarai’s office.”
Someone? Chiyo’s thoughts raced, providing answers each worse than the last. None prepared her to step into the office and see Yamada Nori.
Chiyo stopped still while the assistant closed the door behind her. Every poorly don
e test and missed dance step, along with the burned-doll face aimed at Hoshi, slammed together in her head.
Yamada-san had been sitting in a chair before Headmaster’s desk, talking with Hanarai-sensei. He stood the moment he saw her. Today, he wore a Western-style business suit of a dark blue jacket and trousers. A shiver ran through Chiyo. Was teasing Miss Miyamoto such a crime that the school had sent for Yamada Nori to take her away?
Chiyo desperately wanted to go home, but not in disgrace. Hoshi deserved the teasing. She did not think the men would listen to excuses.
No more than seconds had passed while frightening thoughts flashed through her head. She risked a swift glance at Yamada-san’s face before she folded her hands and bowed. He looked pleasant, not angry. Maybe he was not here to remove her.
“You are surprised to see me, little sister,” he said. “I must apologize for not sending word ahead. I’ve had business in Tokyo and decided to stop on my way home to learn how you are fitting in.”
News of her teasing Hoshi had not yet reached him. Chiyo risked a glance at Headmaster Hanarai and was surprised to see him on his feet. “Take your time,” he told Yamada-san. “I am needed in a meeting elsewhere.”
Thankful for momentary escape, Chiyo returned her attention to the man who could take her home to her sister’s wedding . . . or leave her here forever.
In a calm voice, Yamada-san asked, “Have you become friends with General Miyamoto’s daughter?”
Maybe he did know of the teasing. Cautiously, she said, “We have several classes together. Miyamoto Hoshi is well mannered and liked by her teachers.” Before he could ask again about friendship, she said, “My best friend is the daughter of a politician.”
“Nakata Hana,” he said. She wondered what else Headmaster had told him. “Miss Nakata is known to be a high-spirited girl indulged by her father and more likely to laugh at a problem than solve it.”
“She has been kind to me since my first day here.” She had had to leave Yumi behind. She would not stop playing with Hana.
“It is best to choose friends wisely. I hope you will keep this advice in mind.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the headmaster’s desk for a large box wrapped in red paper. “My younger daughter has outgrown this. I thought you might wear it for your sister’s wedding, but I believe you may need it for school ceremonies.”
Chiyo wiped her fingers on her skirt before daring to open the beautiful box. When she parted the tissue inside, rose silk glowed beneath. She lifted folds of rippling fabric, marveling over vibrant flowers hand-painted onto the cloth. “How beautiful!” Words were not enough. She could only look at him and hope that the glow in her face told him more than words could say.
Until this minute, she had expected to wear the borrowed school uniform to Tokyo. She folded the beautiful kimono back into its box. She had never owned anything so elegant.
“Your vocal teacher is greatly satisfied with your progress,” Yamada-san said. “It pleases me to hear that.”
Chiyo felt his words land on the good side of her mental scale. Excitement rushed through her. “I am to be one of six from the vocal group who will go to Tokyo to welcome the Friendship Dolls!”
“I am sorry, but you will not be going with them.”
“What?” The word came out as a squeak.
“It is too soon for you to make such a trip.” He looked regretful but firm. “The other girls are more sophisticated. You would be made unhappy. It is better you stay here and pay attention to your lessons.”
She spoke as wistfully as she could manage, and the words sounded true because they were true. “I am sorry. The granddaughter of a shogun is to accept the first doll. I might have learned from her beautiful manners.”
Yamada-san looked thoughtful. “I might permit you to go, if Miss Miyamoto requests your company.”
That would never happen. Hopes that had barely risen scattered like leaves on the wind. Hoshi had insulted her when they met, humiliated her over the chair cushion, and deliberately confused her in dance. She had burned Momo!
Trying to keep despair from her voice, Chiyo said, “The general’s daughter will never request the company of the daughter of a farmer. To do so would be to lose her father’s respect.”
Her chest felt squeezed and she drew a swift breath. “I do not have to be in Hoshi’s small circle of friends to learn by observing the shogun’s granddaughter.”
He nodded. “An excellent argument.” A flicker in his eyes reminded her that he, too, was a farmer. Again, she dared to hope and even to hide a smile.
What will Miyamoto Hoshi say if she learns that she is the reason I am to join the trip to Tokyo?
As Chiyo stroked the box holding the kimono, Yamada-san asked, “Will there be time to shop in Tokyo?”
Chiyo’s hands stilled. “Hoshi and Kimiko plan to shop.”
In the same considering tone, Yamada-san said, “You will wish to buy a keepsake. Have you spent all the coins I gave you earlier?”
“No, Yamada-san.” Relief rose through her. She had spent only a single sen, the one donated for the large dolls meant for the children in America. “I have most of them in my purse.”
“Excellent. I could wish such frugality of my own two daughters. But do not be afraid to spend the coins, little sister. They are meant to be enjoyed.”
In her home, money was not for pleasure, but for food and to help the family survive from one year to the next. Feeling as if she took rice from her mother’s plate, she said, “I would like to surprise my mother with a small gift.”
He nodded approval before warning, “Tokyo shops can be expensive. Do you have your purse with you?”
This time, she could give him the answer he wanted. “Hai, Yamada-san, I never leave it behind.”
“You are wise. Open it, please.”
She thought he meant to check her honesty, to see if the coins were really unspent. Why would he do that? She was always truthful.
When she opened the small purse, he poured a handful of coins onto those already there. A treasure, she thought, looking from the purse to Yamada-san in shock. She found her voice quickly. “Arigatogozaimasu.”
“Spend it with pleasure.” He rose to his feet. She sprang to her own, rejoicing inside. She was going to Tokyo. She had coins to spend and a beautiful new kimono. Yamada Nori might be a good husband for her sister after all.
When Chiyo lifted the kimono from its wrappings later, sitting on her futon in the sleeping area, Hana clapped her hands. “It’s perfect for your sister’s wedding!”
“And for Tokyo!” Chiyo exclaimed. “Yamada-san almost said I couldn’t go, but I told him I will learn from seeing the beautiful manners of a shogun’s granddaughter.”
She slid the silk through her fingers. Had anything in the whole entire world ever felt so soft? “I thought Yamada Nori was too old for Masako. Now I think she’s lucky.” She grinned at the other boarding girls in the room. “I think I’m lucky, too.”
She realized that the girls were exchanging worried glances. They had all become silent. “Your kimonos are just as pretty,” she said, sorry that she had seemed to boast and glad she hadn’t told them about the money in the red silk purse.
“It’s not that,” Hana said. “None of us can wear kimonos. Sensei told us after you’d gone. Miss Tokugawa, the granddaughter of the shogun, is going to wear her school uniform. So we will, too, even Hoshi.”
Chiyo tried to hide her disappointment as she folded the beautiful kimono into its wrappings. Hana touched her arm gently. “Think how nice it will be to have the kimono saved especially for your sister’s wedding.”
Hana’s encouragement helped Chiyo smile. Yamada-san was wrong about Nakata Hana. She was a good friend.
As if to take her mind from disappointment, Shizuko said, “Did you know Mrs. Ogata once trained to be a geisha?”
Hana glanced cautiously toward the door. “I heard that she chose our rules from the ones she learned.”
; The girls all giggled. “‘No talking with men outside of school or family,’” Shizuko said, adding, “Where would we find men to talk to?”
“‘Speak softly and respectfully,’” Hana said, repeating another of the rules. “I admit to having trouble with that one at times.”
Chiyo remembered another. “‘Never show anger, jealousy, or visible emotion.’ Hoshi learned that one well, but she inspires plenty of emotion in me!”
Hana laughed and tugged her blanket to her chin. Chiyo snuggled onto her own futon. She was beginning to fit in here. Maybe she would not disappoint her parents or Yamada Nori after all.
On the day they were to leave for Tokyo, excitement sparked through the classrooms. “A rickshaw is waiting outside!” Everyone crowded to peer through windows while teachers urged them to behave like young ladies.
“See! The driver waits beyond the gate.”
“There’s another!”
“And a third!”
The girls who weren’t going were almost as excited as those who were. At last, the six with their two teachers settled into the wheeled carts and the drivers set off at a steady pace for the Tsuchiura train station.
“I have seen rickshaws before, but never ridden in one,” Chiyo confided to Hana and Shizuko on either side of her.
“Next, a train!” Hana exclaimed.
Chiyo couldn’t imagine such a thing. Her heart beat faster and she couldn’t stop smiling. The six girls were a group now, she thought, sharing this special experience. She and Hoshi might even put their private wars behind them.
When they climbed from the rickshaws at the station, Chiyo felt as if she had left her familiar world behind. While most of the group waited inside, she stood on the platform with Hana, peering eagerly down the tracks.
It seemed to take forever, but at last the great round nose of the train appeared far down the track, growing rapidly larger as it roared toward the station. Black smoke poured from the stack. The whistle blasted. Come with me, it urged in a breath-catching promise of adventure.
Dolls of Hope Page 5