Tokyo Bay

by Anthony Grey

  The sound of the corridor shoji being slid apart behind her interrupted these thoughts, and she turned to see the peasant maidservant entering. She was carrying a zen, a small table with short legs, which bore a bowl of rice, some eggs, a flask of tea and a copper basin of water. The girl closed the screen carefully behind her and bowed her head once towards Tokiwa before advancing to place the table on the tatami in the middle of the room.

  ‘Here is some food, O Tokiwa-san she intoned quietly. ‘The guards require you to eat now. You’ve had nothing since morning:

  Before replying, Tokiwa hurried over to the little red lacquered box wrapped in oilskin in which she had carried her money from Yedo. She took out five silver ichibus, concealed them in one hand inside the sleeve of her kimono, and motioned the maid towards the side of the room furthest from the corridor. Pressing an index finger against her own lips, she cautioned her to speak softly.

  ‘What is your name?’ Tokiwa whispered.

  ‘My name is Eiko replied the maid in an anxious undertone. ‘Why are we behaving like this?’

  ‘I need your help, Eiko,’ whispered Tokiwa urgently, puffing her hand from her sleeve and opening it to reveal the five ichibus nestling in her palm. ‘This can be yours if you will help me escape from here.’

  The peasant girl’s eyes grew wide in alarm as she gazed down at more money than she had ever seen in her young life. Then she peered fearfully round the room, checking that all the paper screens remained closed, and that they could not be overheard.

  ‘I am, . . afraid, Tokiwa-san’ she stammered, torn between an evident desire to take the money and her fear of the guards. ‘They may kill me if I help you.’

  ‘They need never know breathed Tokiwa. ‘Don’t be afraid. After I’ve gone, say you know nothing about it.’

  ‘But they won’t believe me, Tokiwa-san,’ replied the maid in an agitated whisper.

  ‘There’s no need for them to suspect anything, if you stay calm,’ said Tokiwa soothingly. ‘Now, listen to me. With some of this money I want you to obtain a horse and some peasant clothes.’

  “What sort of clothes?’ whispered the maid, her expression still indecisive.

  Tokiwa smiled encouragingly. ‘First a broad hat of plaited bamboo. Then a blue scarf for my head, some loose blue trousers, some wooden clogs - and a working shirt.’

  Eiko looked at the money, rubbing her own cheek distractedly with one hand, and started to shake her head.

  ‘I will give you ten ichibus whispered Tokiwa imploringly, adding more silver coins from the red lacquered box. ‘Now will you please try to help me?’

  She fixed her gaze on the peasant girl, who she estimated was no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Her dark eyes were downcast, avoiding Tokiwa’s searching scrutiny, and she continued to rub her cheek indecisively. With a feeling of panic Tokiwa realized that the maid could simply take the money and flee into the darkness, never to return - or just as easily report everything to the guards, hand over some of the coins as proof and keep the rest for herself. But as she waited for a reply she realized there was no alternative to trusting her, and again she held out the money.

  ‘If you bring me the clothes hidden under your own, Eiko, I will be able to put them on here and steal down into the courtyard after dark,’ she said beseechingly. ‘Even if a guard sees me then, he won’t recognize me as a geisha from the Yoshiwara.. . But I can’t do it without your help!’

  The maid’s eyes shone with fearful excitement as she listened, and she nodded once, indicating that she understood. ‘It will be very dangerous, Tokiwa-san. When do you want the clothes?’

  ‘As soon as possible - tonight if you are able.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better to wait until tomorrow evening? I could bring some clothes when I come in from my home in the morning.’

  ‘Do your best,’ urged Tokiwa. ‘But come as soon as you can. I will be waiting.’

  ‘What sort of horse do you want?’

  ‘An old, slow one - and make sure it is equipped with big straw panniers. Fill one of the baskets with rice, so that I can pass for a peasant travelling to market.’

  ‘And what shall I do with the horse?’

  ‘Tie it to the first tree you come to west of the inn.’ Tokiwa paused to pluck two ribbons of fine blue silk from her toilet box, and banded them to the maid. ‘Tie one of these to its mane - then I will be sure that the horse is mine. The other is a gift for yourself Wear it in your hair when you wish to look your prettiest:

  ‘Thank you, O Tokiwa-san.’ Eiko accepted the ribbons with a hesitant smile. Her simple face was still shadowed by doubt but, after running the glossy silk back and forth between her fingers, she reached out suddenly to pick up the ten silver coins and tucked them into the folds of her homespun kimono. ‘I will try to do all the things you ask.’

  The maid hurried out into the corridor, closing the screens quietly behind her. Left standing alone in the middle of the room, Tokiwa found that she was trembling as she listened fearfully for the approaching feet of the chief guard. If the maid reported to him all that had passed between them, he would come thundering into, the room at once to confront her. Where that might lead, she could not begin to guess. She suddenly- regretted her rashness, but realized it was far too late to have regrets.

  For two or three minutes Tokiwa remained standing in the middle of the room, contemplating the boldness of her action with some astonishment; then, still trembling slightly, she began pacing back and forth across the soft tatami once more.

  10

  ‘WHAT’S GOING ON out there, Sentaro?’

  Coming up behind the castaway, who was peering anxiously out through an open gunport on the upper deck, Robert Eden patted him affectionately on the shoulder. In the darkness that cloaked the shore, a chain of great beacon fires flamed on the cliff tops. Other fires were burning all along the beaches, and the sound of religious chanting rose intermittently on the still air. A single, deep-toned gong sent out an ominous note of warning at long intervals, and in the flickering light from the fires Eden could see that the face of the Japanese castaway was stiff with tension.

  ‘My countrymen seem very frightened, master,’ he said, speaking English in a hoarse whisper. ‘Many beacon fires all send out the same message.’

  ‘What do they say?’

  Sentaro hesitated for a moment, and when he looked up at Eden his eyes were wide with alarm. ‘Sorry, master, but they are saying: “Arm to expel the foreign barbarians!”

  ‘Do you think they really will attack us?’

  ‘I don’t know’ The castaway shook his head several times to express his confusion. Many of your brother officers also ask me this question. Perhaps.

  maybe... I don’t know!’

  The calm, black waters of the bay reflected the orange beacon fires like a mirror. Close to the beach the crews of the guard-boats were still watching the American warships from a distance ... and paper lanterns strung on their sterns provided a gentler chain of illumination. In the deep stillness... of the night a new surge of impassioned chanting carried clearly to the ears of those who were awake and listening on the American ships.

  ‘At temples and shrines, many people are pleading with our kami to drive away “the black ships of the foreign barbarians”; continued Sentaro after listening carefully to the chorus of voice coming from the shore. ‘I think nobody is sleeping tonight.’

  Eden drew a deep breath and 1anced up into the rigging of the Susquehanna. The shadowy silhouettes of many additional lookouts were visible aloft, clinging amongst the spars and shrouds, and all were straining their eyes and ears towards the shore. A wisp of smoke curling upward amongst the furled sails and the quiet throb of machinery from below decks confirmed that the engine were being maintained in a state of readiness for action.

  As soon as the Japanese negotiating party had left the flagship, Commodore Perry had issued orders for all watches to be doubled, and for extra sentries to be posted fore and aft.
During his own evening tours of inspection Eden had checked that sufficient heaps of roundshot and grape were piled beside each of his guns and that muskets were neatly stacked in the open on the nearby decks. Other watch officers had ordered regular inspections to be made to ensure that there was plenty of coal in the bunkers around the engines, and that enough steam was maintained in the boilers to meet any emergency. All the flagship’s cutters had been readied for launching, each craft loaded with carbines, pistols, .cutlasses and signal lights. As the darkness deepened, Eden had repeatedly reminded all his lookouts to keep their eyes peeled for burning junks which might be let loose among the warships in an effort to fire and destroy them.

  A few minutes earlier, eight strokes of the flagship’s bell had marked the midnight hour and the termination of another of Eden’s tense four-hour spells of duty as second officer of the watch. On descending the port ladder from the quarterdeck he had spotted Sentaro hunched in the shadows of the gunport, peering towards the flame-lit shore. During his earlier rounds, remembering that he had banished the castaway from the decks long before sunset, he had looked in briefly at Sentaro. The makeshift berth among the ropes and sails beneath the fo’c’s’le. He had told him then it was safe to get some air on deck under the cover of darkness, so long as he kept himself out of sight and returned quickly to his hiding place if any emergency arose.

  ‘Do you think you’ll sleep now, Sentaro?’ asked Eden, patting his shoulder again:. ‘Or will you spend the rest of the night praying that your kami will drive our ships away - and you along with them?’

  ‘I have two minds, master,’ whispered the castaway, straightening up to stand beside Eden. With a quick movement of his right hand he touched first the centre of his forehead, then his chest. ‘Part of me wants to stay in Nippon - but part of me wants to return to America

  ‘Which part of you wants to stay?’ asked Eden quietly.

  The face of the Japanese became serious and he again laid the palm of his hand on the centre of his chest. ‘My heart is foolish, master. It wants to beat again in the land of its birth. It wants also to see my son and daughter, and my wife. I haven’t seen them for four years.’ He smiled sadly, revealing several broken teeth. Then he touched his forehead with one grimy finger. ‘But my head is wiser. It tells me I should leave. It knows I will be killed if I go ashore

  - and then my heart will beat no more!’

  Eden looked at him thoughtfully, then turned away towards the blazing beacons of the cliff tops. ‘How far is your home village from here, Sentaro?’

  ‘Ten miles from Uraga, on the western shore of the bay, master.’ He pointed southward with one arm. ‘It is called Yurutaki.’

  ‘And how old are your son and daughter?’

  ‘Taro will be nine years old now,’ he replied wistfully. ‘His sister Haru is five. .

  ‘Then perhaps you should please both your heart and your head.’

  The castaway stared mystified at the American officer. ‘How could I do that, master?’

  ‘Are you a good swimmer?’

  Sentaro nodded. ‘Yes, master, I swim very well!’

  ‘Then you could slip over the side and swim ashore in the dark. You could find a horse and make your way to your home village without anybody knowing. You would at least see your wife and children - but if you find you’re still afraid, you could return secretly to the ship in the same way. And I’d keep my promise to help you return to America.’

  Sentaro gasped. ‘But, master, t go ashore secretly would be very dangerous. In every town and village there are police spies. I would be very frightened!’

  Eden had been staring at the blazing beacons, but now he turned to look at the castaway again, his eyes suddenly gleaming with their own inner brightness. ‘Would you be so frightened if I came with you?’

  ‘Come with me, master?’ Sentaro’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘Why should you want to come with me?’

  ‘To try to find out what’s really happening behind those fires!’ Eden spoke his words with a quiet vehemence. ‘We know nothing of your land and its people. Yet at any moment we could make a false move and start a terrible war. If I came ashore with you, I could bring back more reliable information!’

  ‘Has somebody given orders for you to do this?’ asked the Japanese in an awed whisper. ‘Your high chief, perhaps? Has he ordered you to go ashore - like you did in Mexico?’

  Eden glanced round to ensure nobody was within earshot, then he shook his head and lowered his voice. ‘Nobody has ordered me to do this, Sentaro. But we shouldn’t always wait for others to give us instructions. Sometimes we must dare to give them to ourselves!’

  ‘I’m too afraid, master.’ The castaway swallowed hard, his expression apologetic. ‘I’m too afraid to do this.’

  Eden stared at him, frowning; then his face cleared. ‘You’re wise to be afraid, Sentaro. it’s right for you to stay on board.’

  ‘And you, master, what will you do?’ asked the Japanese uneasily.

  Eden hesitated for a second, then squared his shoulders with sudden resolution. ‘I’ll go ashore alone. I’ll go and find out what’s really happening.’

  ‘No!’ The castaway let out a stifled exclamation of alarm. ‘It’s impossible for you to go alone. No foreign barbarians have been allowed to set foot in Nippon for over two hundred years. You’d be executed as a spy - or become a prisoner!’

  Eden looked round and smiled faintly. ‘No, I won’t. You’ve helped me learn a little of your language, Sentaro. I’ll disguise myself carefully. I’ll be able to watch and listen. I might even try to find your home village and tell your family you’re alive and well:

  The Japanese again peered out through the open gunport. The beacon fires were blazing higher, and the silhouetted figures of armed men were visible, moving against the flames. In the darkness the deep- toned warning gong continued to sound, and when he looked round at Eden again the uncertainty in his face was plainly visible.

  ‘I am afraid, master: he said in an unsteady voice. ‘But if you go ashore, I must come with you. You would not survive there without me.’

  Eden considered the castaway’s offer in silence, then nodded decisively. ‘All right, Sentaro, if you’re truly sure you want to take the risk. You would be able to help me a great deal.’

  ‘Thank you, master!’ The face of the Japanese was lit for an instant by a passing smile. Then he glanced uneasily towards the shore once more. ‘When do we go, master?’

  ‘We must go as soon as possible, perhaps just before dawn - but we must make our preparations carefully.’

  ‘What will we need, master?’

  Eden thought quickly. ‘Some oilskin waist pouches. . . Go back to your quarters and make two pouches. Sew them onto belts. They will keep our things dry I’ll take a pistol and ammunition, a knife, a good compass and my small binoculars. So make the pouches big!’

  ‘And some food, master?’ enquired the castaway eagerly.

  Eden shook his head. ‘No, I’ll take some of the Chinese silver coins I picked up in Hong Kong. You can buy food for us with them... But I’ll need some of your old clothes for disguise - especially the big Japanese straw hat you made in California. It will hide my face.’

  ‘All right, master!’

  ‘And I’ll come to your berth again later to talk some more.’

  ‘Very good, master.’ The castaway began to turn away. ‘I go there now.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Eden. ‘One question. Today I heard some Japanese words I didn’t understand. A man said, in my hearing, “Taihen on ni na ru

  ‘That means “I am greatly in your debt” said Sentaro quickly. ‘Those are words intended very sincerely. Who used them?’

  ‘They were spoken by an escort of the Japanese envoy who came aboard. And he ended with other words I didn’t recognize... something like “Sumo ma san.”

  The castaway screwed up his face in concentration. ‘Could it perhaps have been one word, master - “Sumimasen”?’
/>   Eden hesitated, then nodded. ‘Possibly. What does that mean?’

  “Sumimasen” is a special way of saying “thank you”.’ The castaway wrinkled his forehead as he searched for the right English equivalent. ‘But for something you really did not expect to get. It’s an apology; too, for causing trouble.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Eden’s expression brightened as comprehension dawned. Then he nodded, repeating the words quietly to himself ‘Sumimasen.

  Sumimasen. . . Yes, I think that was it.’

  ‘Glad to find you keeping up your language studies under these trying circumstances, Lieutenant!’ The jocular voice of Samuel Armstrong cut across Eden’s thoughts as the missionary interpreter approached silently out of the darkness. ‘Sumimasen, if you’d like some scholarly elaboration, is one of half a dozen shades of Japanese apology; As befits a nation so obsessed with form and formality; each version is separate and quite precise. Sumimasen has an interesting literal interpretation. It means something like:

  “The obligation will never end.”

  Eden looked searchingly at the China missionary; wondering if any other part of his conversation with, Sentaro had been overheard. But Armstrong, smiling and wreathed in smoke, was puffing relaxedly on his pipe and he gave no indication of having heard anything disturbing.

  ‘Mr. Armstrong speaks my language well,’ said Sentaro, bowing formally to the newcomer. ‘But excuse me, master. I will go how.’