“You don’t say? I suppose she felt she’s been so out of touch that a brief visit was the least she could do?”
“No, that wasn’t it.”
Tsuda followed at once with his next lie.
“But she can’t have had business with you.”
“But she did.”
“You don’t say.”
Tsuda awaited what would follow.
“Try guessing what business she had.”
Feigning ignorance, Tsuda pretended to deliberate.
“Let me see—why come to you—I don’t really—”
“No idea?”
“I—it’s a tough riddle—you understand, we’re brother and sister, but we couldn’t be less alike.”
Tsuda here invoked inconsequently the sibling relationship. His purpose was to excuse himself in advance at a distance before anything should happen. He was also listening for some echo of the effect his words might have had on the lady.
“She seems proud of how logical she is.”
The minute he heard this, Tsuda sensed the match was his and leaped at the opening that had been revealed.
“Her so-called logic is unbearable even to me, and I’m her brother. No one can sit there listening and not run out of patience. That’s why I end up agreeing to whatever she says when we quarrel. And off she goes feeling good about herself, maybe thinking she’s won, and tells everyone she meets whatever it takes to make her look good.”
Madam Yoshikawa smiled. Tsuda interpreted the smile as sympathetic to him. Then she spoke, and her words betrayed his expectation.
“I very much doubt that’s how she is. In any event, she has a clear, consistent head on her shoulders, don’t you agree? I quite like her.”
Tsuda smiled stiffly.
“I doubt she’d pay you a visit and wave her real self around like a flag; she’s not that foolish.”
“I think she’s more honest, not less.”
More honest than whom, the lady didn’t say.
[ 132 ]
TSUDA’S CURIOSITY was aroused. He thought he knew whom she meant. But a detour in that direction would be inimical to achieving his principal goal. It would be enough to uncover the relationship between O-Hide and Madam Yoshikawa, whose purpose in visiting him, beyond simply wishing him well, was certain to be a tete-à-tete about that very subject. But the lady had a style that was singularly her own. With no limits on her time, she needed no invitation, given the opportunity, to meddle in the private affairs of others, and she enjoyed looking after people beneath her, particularly those she was fond of, all the while making clear unabashedly that she was acting principally in the interests of her own amusement. At times she went about arranging things helter-skelter. On other occasions her approach was the opposite. Though she never let on, it seemed clear at such times that she was intent on drawing the matter out. Notwithstanding what an observer might think, she appeared to view her approach, very like playing cat-and-mouse, as the special prerogative of an actor who was obliged to enliven an otherwise dreary moment with drama. To someone trapped in such a game, forbearance was critical. And the reward for patience always came. In fact, the lady encouraged people with the prospect of the reward to come. She even took this proudly as evidence of her ethical superiority.
As a result of the tacit agreement that had been exchanged between them, Tsuda had been seriously wounded just once until now. He was too shrewd not to see that the lady privately felt responsible. Though he allowed her venerable wishes to dictate his actions in all things, he reassured himself with the leverage this gave him. But this was a weapon held in reserve until the unlikely advent of an emergency. Day-to-day he had to content himself with becoming a mouse in front of the cat and allowing her to toy with him as she pleased. On this occasion, like so many others, she was taking her sweet time coming to the point.
“I understand Hideko-san was here yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“And Nobuko-san came too!”
“Yes.”
“And today?”
“She hasn’t been here yet.”
“I suppose she’ll be coming soon?”
Tsuda didn’t know. In front of the matron he couldn’t say that he had sent off a letter telling her not to come. As a matter of fact, he was concerned at not having received a reply as he had expected.
“I wonder—I’m not sure.”
“You don’t know if she’ll be coming?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How very offhand!”
The matron laughed as though mockingly.
“Me?”
“Both of you!”
Tsuda smiled uncomfortably, and Madam waited for his mouth to close again before she spoke.
“I understand that Nobuko-san and Hideko-san ran into each other here?”
“Yes.”
“And something happened, something out of the ordinary.”
“Not really—”
“I wish you wouldn’t play dumb. If something happened, why not say so, like a man?”
Now at last the lady had begun to resort to the language and style that were singularly hers. Tsuda was at a loss for a reply. He felt his only choice was to wait and see in silence.
“According to Hideko-san, you both tormented her. Ganged up.”
“That’s absurd! She’s the one who got angry and stormed out.”
“Really? But you did fight. Maybe not with your fists, but a fight anyway.”
“Yes, but O-Hide has exaggerated it way out of proportion.”
“That may be, but there’s no question that you argued.”
“We had a small disagreement, yes.”
“And the two of you attacked Hideko-san together?”
“There was no attacking! She got all fired up and read us chapter and verse like a Christian.”
“But it was two of you against one of her.”
“I suppose so.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. That was wrong of you.”
There was no sense or logic in the lady’s conclusion. Accordingly it made no sense to Tsuda. But in cases like this, it was her custom to declare herself indisputably; with her accusation already driven into his brain, he had no choice but to submit to being scolded.
“I didn’t intend it to be that way; maybe it just happened naturally. In the course of things.”
“‘Maybe’ won’t do! Why not say right out ‘It happened!’? You may think it’s rude of me to say so, but this is all because you’re too protective of Nobuko-san.”
Tsuda inclined his head.
[ 133 ]
NOTWITHSTANDING HIS cleverness, he failed to grasp the nature of the relationship between Madam Yoshikawa and O-Nobu. In his presence the matron conducted herself with caution where O-Nobu was concerned, and O-Nobu felt constrained in her own way in front of him; as a consequence, the wisdom that would otherwise have allowed him to perceive their genuine sentiments was foiled. Unaware of this, Tsuda, who tended to discount somewhat steeply the value of what he heard women say, accepted Madam’s critique of O-Nobu word for word and, at the same time, never doubted what he heard O-Nobu remark about the other. Moreover, their assessments were mutually laudatory to a fault. It was only now, when the circumstances made it inevitable, that the subtle discord the two women had both been feeling and striving not to reveal was to be laid out for Tsuda to see.
Turning to the lady, he spoke.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t care that much for my wife, so you needn’t trouble yourself about that.”
“Apparently that’s not so. That’s not what the world says.”
Tsuda was taken back by the lady’s hyperbole. Madam felt obliged to explain.
“By ‘the world’ I mean everyone!”
Tsuda was unable to picture clearly whom she meant by “everyone.” But he had no trouble divining the significance of her exaggeration. It seemed she was determined to drive this point into his brain. He forced himself to laugh.
>
“I assume ‘everyone’ means O-Hide?”
“O-Hide-san among them, of course.”
“Among them and represents them all, I suppose?”
“Possibly.”
Tsuda laughed aloud again. He noticed at once as it rebounded on him the laugh’s unfortunate effect on the lady, but it was too late to recall it. Having perceived the advantage of accepting guilt and punishment without protest, he quickly reformed his stance.
“I’ll be careful from now on.”
But Madam wasn’t finished.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s only Hideko-san. Your uncle and aunt feel the same way, you should be aware of that.”
“I didn’t realize.”
Obviously, word of the Fujiis had reached the lady through O-Hide.
“And there are others,” Madam subjoined.
“I see,” Tsuda said simply, and in the instant he looked at his companion’s face, the words he had been expecting issued from her.
“To tell the truth, I’m of the same opinion as the others.”
Facing her as she declared herself as though definitively, Tsuda didn’t feel it necessary to hunt for the courage it would have taken to lift his voice in protest. He was silent, but he couldn’t help wondering if she was thinking more than she said. What accounts for this attitude all of a sudden? When she scolds me for treating O-Nobu too solicitously, is she also criticizing O-Nobu? This was a brand new suspicion. So new he had difficulty conceiving the process in his imagination whereby he had arrived at it. Before addressing his suspicion, he asked a question that remained in his mind.
“Does Okamoto-san feel the same way?”
“Okamoto is different. What Okamoto thinks is not my affair.”
This curt disclaimer was a surprise to Tsuda.
So you and Okamoto have nothing to do with each other? He was on the verge of asking this question, next in the natural order of things.
The truth was, he didn’t care for O-Nobu to the extent people assumed he did. Explaining to someone else how this partial misunderstanding had resulted would require time and effort, but he had his own lucid notion of the process and understood the pattern of facts with sufficient clarity to identify them one by one.
O-Nobu herself was principally responsible. It was O-Nobu who possessed the skill, and made full use of it unabashedly everywhere she went, to create, from the most complex possible angle, a reflection of how precious she was to Tsuda, and conversely of how much freedom she accorded him. The second responsible party was O-Hide. Her already distorted view of the situation was exacerbated by a kind of jealousy. Tsuda didn’t know whence her jealousy came. Having understood for the first time only after his marriage the meaning of a sister-in-law, he was unfortunately unable to apply what he had perceived and was left confounded. Fujii and his wife were third on the list. The villain here was neither hyperbole nor jealousy but rather an intemperate aversion to ostentation. Hence this, too, came down to a misunderstanding.
[ 134 ]
TSUDA HAD a particular reason for allowing this misunderstanding to obtain. Kobayashi had disinterred the reason. It was in the soil of this misunderstanding that the Okamotos’ good intentions toward him grew, and it was in his interest to preserve those feelings as best he could. Treating O-Nobu solicitously, in other words, was the same as currying favor with the Okamotos, and inasmuch as Okamoto and Yoshikawa were as close as brothers, it stood to reason that the better care he took of O-Nobu, the more assured his future became. A man who prided himself on his unfaltering perspicacity where his own interests were concerned, Tsuda wasn’t fool enough to celebrate the fact that Madam Yoshikawa had acted as formal go-between at the time of his marriage simply because he considered it an honor. In her involvement in his marriage he perceived a significance that was distinct from and went beyond honor.
But this was hardly more than a surface consideration. Deeper inside, layers below, there was a bottom beneath the bottom. Long before things had come to this pass, Tsuda and Madam Yoshikawa had been yoked together by circumstances unknown to others. Having traversed together a tortuous path private to themselves, they had been obliged to view the new relationship that had been forged half a year ago with more complex feelings than the others.
To put it plainly, before he married O-Nobu, Tsuda had loved another woman. And it was Madam Yoshikawa who had encouraged, perhaps even ignited, his love. She had manipulated the couple at will, contriving capriciously to push them together and then to tear them apart, and she had amused herself watching them on each occasion tumble into helpless confusion or drive each other to distraction before her eyes. Nonetheless it had never occurred to Tsuda to question his firm belief in her kindness. Madam on her part never hesitated to insist that a happy destiny was in store for the couple. Not content to speculate, when she saw that the moment had ripened, she attempted to unite their hands forever. However, at the last possible moment, her confidence received a bone-shivering blow. There was no protecting Tsuda’s arrogance, either; it received its own drubbing at the same time. Once the precious bird had flown suddenly away, she had never returned to Madam’s hand.
Madam Yoshikawa blamed Tsuda. Tsuda blamed her. Madam felt responsible. But Tsuda was unable to assume responsibility. To this day, unable to understand what had happened, he wandered in a dense fog. Meanwhile there arose the question of marriage to O-Nobu. Thinking to participate in this second romance, Madam Yoshikawa went into action. By undertaking the role of formal go-between with her husband, she neatly resolved her unfinished business with Tsuda.
Observing her minutely at the time, Tsuda was convinced by what he saw.
She intends this as compensation to me.
Certain he was correct, he attempted to derive from her intention a general policy toward his future. Living in harmony with O-Nobu, he was convinced, would constitute partial fulfillment of his obligation to the lady. He went so far as to assume that his future was guaranteed so long as he didn’t quarrel with his wife.
It was hardly surprising, then, having dealt with Madam Yoshikawa from the outset in the certainty that there was no miscalculation in his understanding, that he should be alarmed to perceive coming from his companion even the faintest trace of disapproval directed at O-Nobu. Before he could reform his own position in a way that would please her, he had first to ascertain whether he was correct.
“I know you think I treat O-Nobu too well, but if you’re also thinking she has her own shortcomings, I’d be grateful for your advice on that subject, too.”
“As a matter of fact, it’s just that I’ve come to see you about.”
Tsuda was consumed with curiosity about what she would say. The lady continued.
“I bring this up only because I don’t believe anyone else could say it to your face—and please don’t think I’ve been coached by O-Hide. If this should be awkward for her later, I’d feel awful. I’m sure you understand. It’s true she came here with the same thing on her mind. But her point is different. She’s mostly worried about Kyoto. I understand, from your point of view, that Kyoto is all about your father and simply can’t be neglected. Especially since he asked my husband to look after you—you can hardly afford to turn your back and say nothing. The problem, as I see it, is that Kyoto is only a branch and the root is elsewhere; I think you should consider beginning treatment at the root. Otherwise we’re certain to run into the same sort of misunderstanding we have just now. It’s one thing if it’s merely a misunderstanding, but if O-Hide comes racing over here each time, it makes it very difficult for me to say anything.”
It was clear enough that the root of misfortune the lady had in mind was O-Nobu. And how was she suggesting it should be treated? Inasmuch as there was no physical illness, Tsuda wondered how the word “treatment” could be used so casually unless it referred to separation or divorce.
[ 135 ]
HE COULDN’T help asking.
“What are you suggesting I do?”
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br /> The matron assumed the condescending look of a mother in the face of a childish question. But she didn’t get right to the point. She merely smiled, as if to say “that was precisely the question.”
“Let me ask you, how do you feel about Nobuko-san?”
Tsuda recalled his reply to O-Hide when he had been asked the same question in the same words the day before. He hadn’t prepared a special answer for Madam. That at least allowed him the freedom to reply however he liked. In truth, he felt inclined to provide whatever reply would please her. The difficulty was, he couldn’t imagine what such an answer might be. Thrown off balance and flustered, he grinned. Madam took advantage of his silence to close the distance between them another step.
“I assume you care for her.”
Even here, Tsuda was insufficiently prepared. If it were a matter of dealing with the lady half in jest, there were any number of things he might have said. A responsible reply, however, seriously considered and delivered in a form that was likely to please, did not come easily. What was most convenient, and most inconvenient at the same time, was his feeling that he could speak freely from his heart either way. The truth was, he loved O-Nobu, and then again he didn’t love her so very much.
The lady appeared increasingly grave. The tone of her third question allowed him no escape.
“I promise this will remain a secret between us, so I want you to tell me the truth. I’m not asking for much. A word from you, how you truly feel, and I’ll be satisfied.”
At a loss for what to say, Tsuda felt more and more flustered. The lady spoke.
“You’re so irritating! Can’t you just get on with it, say what you have to say like a man? Nobody’s asking you anything so very difficult.”
Finally, Tsuda felt compelled to speak.
“It’s not that I can’t answer you. But it’s a complex question, ambiguous—”
“Shall I speak for you, then? May I?”
“Please.”
“The fact is—” the lady began, interrupted herself, and continued again.
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