by India Millar
Bigger came and poked his head into my bedroom. Wicked as ever, he did not speak but simply shook his head sadly and sucked his teeth in a shocked manner, crossing his eyes in an affectation of great sadness. I don’t know to this day what possessed me to do it, but suddenly I found myself shuffling across the matting on my knees. I flung my arms around his knees and buried my head in his robe.
“Oh, Bigger!” I wailed. “I don’t know what to do. I know Big will hate me if I go, but if I don’t, Auntie will give me to Big to be punished anyway, so I’m caught in the middle. Oh, help me, Bigger, please!”
I could tell he was pleased by my appeal to him. He patted my head as if I was a puppy and I felt him shrug.
“Well, looks to me as if you’ve no way to turn, have you?”
A memory came to me of this terrible man caressing my tiny, helpless kitten and I wailed even louder.
“I only have you, Bigger! I have no one else in the whole world to turn to!”
For a horrible moment, I thought he was going to kick me away and go to tell Big how unhappy I was. But he did not.
“Mmm. Well, I suppose I could keep an eye open for you. If I wanted to. If you made it worth my while.”
Made it worth his while? How could I? I had nothing of my own. And I held no attraction for him, he had made that obvious already. I might have amused him the one time, but I did not fool myself that he would welcome another performance. My stomach contracted so hard that I felt as if I had been kicked.
“Bigger, I have nothing. I owe Auntie everything.” Even in my distress, I realized it was better not to try to offer my services to Bigger. One wrong word and I could find myself committed to something even worse than any patron wanted to inflict on me.
“Shush, little Midori, shush.” Bigger sounded so pleased, I began to feel quite ill. In spite of my caution, had I let myself in for something that I would regret forever more? Oh, Danjuro. What have you done to me? Even as I thought it, I knew I didn’t mean it. There was nothing I could imagine that I would not do for Danjuro. “There is something you can do for me. A very easy something. Something that I think you will enjoy greatly.”
Throwing caution to the wind, I bawled, “Anything!”
“Make Danjuro fall in love with you.”
I was so surprised that I actually rocked back on my heels and stared up at Bigger. I thought he must have been mocking me, but his face was deadly serious. He gripped my shoulders in his hands and shook me quite gently.
“Can you do that, Midori? Think carefully before you answer. Don’t tell me that you will try or that you will do your best. Tell me the truth. Can you do it?”
“Yes.” The word slipped out between my lips before I could stop it. I knew the enormity of what I was saying. Japanese men did not love women. They used them. When they married, it was to produce sons or to gain kudos with people who mattered. They did not love their wives; very rarely did they profess to love their mistresses. Perhaps one man in ten thousand loved a woman intensely enough to kill himself for her, but even that was no consolation since the woman was expected to kill herself at the same time. And I now knew that Danjuro was a famous man. A wealthy man. A man who must be worshiped by thousands of women, and men.
A man who was loved by Big. Once that thought came to me, I understood everything. Bigger loved Big, just as Big loved Danjuro. He would do anything to come between them. Did Danjuro also love Big, I wondered? The thought was abhorrent, and I shoved it away. Of course he didn’t. Why would he have protected me at the party if he did? Why was he sending for me now, asking that I came to him all alone? I could see Bigger watching these thoughts go through my mind and knew if I committed now I would be risking everything. Probably even my life. Even so, I said it again.
“Yes. I will make Danjuro love me. I will take him away from Big. I promise. I will make him forget that Big ever existed for him.”
Bigger nodded and inhaled deeply. He delved into the sleeve of his robe and produced a small knife. The blade glinted wickedly as it caught the light. He reached down and caught my hand and I gasped as he slit my middle finger deeply. Blood dripped out immediately, but before it could fall to the floor Bigger had cut his own finger and was pressing it against my wound.
“There. The promise is made, and sealed in blood. If you do not do it, I don’t care what Auntie says. If I have to do it to get to you, I will kill Auntie myself. If you fail, I will make your life a living hell for as long as I can bear to keep you alive. Every day, I will come to you, Midori. Do you understand?”
I nodded. His words filled my mind. I had no doubt at all that he would do it.
But I would not fail.
Danjuro was going to be mine. I knew it. That was going to hurt Big, at the same time as it pleased Bigger. What a tangle it all was! But I didn’t care. At least I would please one of the Boys, as well as myself. And, I hoped and prayed, I would please Danjuro as well.
I smiled.
Auntie fussed around me so long, I began to think the performance would be finished before I got to the kabuki. My makeup was perfect. My hair pinned up, with each curl placed carefully. My obi and kimono were fastened by Auntie herself.
Finally, she expressed herself satisfied and shooed me out of the door. Suzume knew where the Ichimura-za Kabuki Theater was. It was not far, still well within the Floating World. I was itching to ask how Suzume knew where the kabuki theater was located, but I was even more anxious to be off so I stayed silent.
Even though it was very early evening and a cloudy day, Auntie had insisted that I take a parasol to shade my skin from any sun that might peek out. I did as I was told. After all, I had never in my entire life stepped outside the confines of the Hidden House compound before.
I could hardly breathe for terror. The outer door was pulled shut behind me and I had to take a deep breath before I could even move. For once, I was thankful for my kimono’s tight embrace around my legs, for without it I think my knees would have buckled. I could hear them knocking together. Suzume tugged at my sleeve and urged me forward.
“This way,” she said confidently and set off. I had to follow. If I did not, I would have turned back to the door of the Hidden House and beaten on it, demanding to be allowed back in. The idea was still all too appealing, but with it came the memory of Bigger’s wicked little penknife. I was between a rock and a hard place. I could either follow Suzume into unimaginable terrors or retreat back into the safety of the Hidden House and face the all-too-real terrors of Bigger.
Fear of Bigger won. Suzume had come back to me and was peering into my face, her expression concerned.
“Come,” she coaxed gently. I realized that she understood at least some of my abject panic.
“I’ve never been outside before,” I croaked.
Suzume’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Never?” she echoed. I shook my head miserably. She stared at me and then nodded briskly. If I hadn’t been so frightened, I would have been amused at the little maid’s sudden confidence.
“Don’t worry,” she said decisively. “I know the Floating World well. I was born here, and I know every twist and turn. I will look after you. Can you walk?”
I made a face. Could I? I didn’t really know if my legs would support me or not. I was clutching the corner of the wall of the Hidden House as if my life depended on it. I let go very carefully, to see if I could still stand and was surprised to find that I could.
“I think I can.”
“You must.” Suzume’s little face was earnest. “If you don’t go to the theater, Auntie will be very angry with you.” Auntie would be angry? That would be nothing, nothing at all, compared to Bigger’s reaction! The knowledge gave me the impetus I needed. I took a deep breath and shook out my fan, hiding my face behind it in the approved manner.
“Go on.” I spoke quickly, trying to convince myself that I could do this. After all, Danjuro had sent for me, hadn’t he? My beautiful Danjuro was waiting for me. Danjuro, who I had waited
for in my turn for so long. What would he think if I did not have the courage to go to him? He would never think of me again, simple as that. Big would have won, and Bigger would probably – eventually – kill me.
“Go,” I said again. I had no choice, did I? Suzume was shaking her head.
“No,” she said firmly. “You are the geisha; you must walk in front of me. I will follow behind you and make sure your kimono does not trail in the mud. I will speak quietly and tell you which direction to turn. Keep your parasol up – it looks as if it may rain, nobody will think it odd – and your fan in front of your face.”
I took courage from little Suzume’s confidence and took a step. For the first time in the whole of my life, I left the Hidden House. I walked the streets of the Floating World amongst people who had not paid to use me. Amongst strangers. I had to open my eyes very wide to stop myself from crying.
As Suzume had said, the evening was overcast. Not cold, but not warm either. I barely noticed – it could have been raining frogs and I would not have been aware of it. I took my first tottering steps in my wooden geti and waited. Waited for the uproar that I knew would come as soon as the first person noticed my deformities. Waited for the people of the Floating World to crowd around me, to stare at me. Perhaps to spit on my hair, as my first danna had done. To pinch and nip at me, just to see if I was real. Perhaps to back away from me, muttering a prayer in case I was an evil spirit walking amongst them. At the very least, to laugh at and make fun of me. Just as Auntie had always said that they would.
Suddenly, a sense of shock hit me like a wave of cold water. Why, why had Auntie let me venture out now? Why, when she had always guarded me from harm? Did Auntie, as well as Big, hate me? Did she want rid of me? Self-pity mingled with fear to leave me almost fainting. All at once, I felt that I hated Danjuro. This was all his fault. If he had never taken a fancy to me in the first place, I would have been safe. Safe in the Hidden House.
Then the moment passed, and I wanted, desperately, to be safe. But not in the Hidden House. No, rather with Danjuro. With Danjuro, who I was risking so much for.
The streets were crowded. I had never seen, never imagined, so many people together. I kept my head down, my face hidden by my fan. Suzume trotted behind me, quite close. I stared at the cobbles beneath my feet. A few steps further, and I heard Suzume say quietly, “Turn left in five steps.” I did as I was told.
The next street seemed even more crowded than the first. My senses reeled from the attack on them. So much noise, voices shouting and laughing, calling out wares and attractions. I could hear animals, somewhere close. A cock crowed and a donkey brayed repeatedly. Nobody seemed to be just speaking, they were all talking at a shout. And the smells, they were even worse. I was fresh from the bath, and my own skin smelled sweet and clean. But some of the bodies around me reeked. They stank of sweat and clothes that had been worn for too long. Some of the smells I did not even try and place, they were just plain dirty. The streets themselves ran with filth so I was forced to hold my parasol in the crook of my arm and hitch up my kimono away from the cobbles. I held my fan closer to my face in an attempt to ward off the stink.
“Left again, now.” Suzume’s soft voice was almost lost in the uproar. I turned and found myself almost face to face with a man, himself coming round the corner at a swagger. This was it, then. The abuse, the scorn, was about to begin. If I was very lucky and the gods were with me, I would not suffer physical abuse.
I kept my eyes downcast and stopped dead. I could see from his robes and swords that the man I had bumped into was a samurai. It could hardly have been worse. I braced myself for the slash of one of his two short swords and prayed silently that his aim would be true and the next incarnation would be better than this one. After all, if a samurai was allowed to strike down a peasant simply because he fancied trying the edge of one of his swords, what chance did I have, a deformed woman who had had the temerity to actually jostle the gentleman? It was almost a relief; the worst had happened. Auntie had been right all along.
“Now then.” His tone was jocular. Please, no. He was going to tease me before he finished me. I stood still, petrified. “What do we have here? Lost your voice, girl?”
I managed what was supposed to be a giggle, but my throat was so dry the sound emerged as a husky sigh. Still no sound of a sword being drawn.
A finger pushed my fan down. I kept my eyes lowered, modestly. The finger ran down my face and inserted itself under my chin, pushing my head up.
“Well, well, well. An exotic little flower, to be sure. What is your name, geisha?”
Geisha? He was actually calling me geisha? In spite of all the many times I had assured myself that I was a geisha, I delighted in hearing this strange man say it. My heart began to beat at such a rate I felt sure that it must have sounded like a drum.
“Midori No Me, sir,” I managed to whisper.
“Aye?” He thrust his head forward. “Appropriate enough. Well, you’re no classic beauty, are you, Midori No Me? But you are different, I’ll give you that.”
He stood back and surveyed me critically. I leaned against the wall, as unobtrusively as I could. It was either that or collapse in a heap on the cobbles.
“No, sir,” I whispered.
He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Where do you live, Midori No Me?”
I was about to blurt out the name of the Hidden House when little Suzume spoke up. “My mistress lives at the Green Tea House on Willow Road, my lord,” she chirped.
“Does she now? And where is your mistress going tonight, little one?” The samurai sounded amused. I was deeply grateful for Suzume’s courage in speaking, as I doubted I could have gotten any sensible words out.
“We are going to the Ichimura-za Kabuki Theater, sir. Danjuro has requested my mistress’s presence.”
I could sense a change in the samurai’s attitude. He was still, suddenly, and seemed to stiffen.
“Danjuro?” I nodded. “Aie. You have a very distinguished patron, Midori No Me. Does he own you?”
“No, sir.” I had managed to get those two words out before, so I decided to stick to them.
“And you live on Willow Road? Well, Midori No Me, I may well come and visit with you in the future. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir. Very much.” I hoped that the crow’s croak that emerged from between my lips sounded throaty rather than terrified. It must have passed muster because the samurai chucked me under my chin and swaggered off. As soon as he had gone, Suzume tugged at my kimono and levered me off the wall, almost pushing me to get me moving.
“Just keep on walking,” she hissed.
I did as she instructed, hardly able to believe that I was still alive. After a few moments, a thought occurred to me.
“Why didn’t you tell him that I was from the Hidden House? Why did you lie?”
“If I had told him the name of the Hidden House, he would have treated you like a common prostitute,” Suzume said quietly. “Even with Danjuro named as your patron, he could easily have made you go with him. He would have thought he could do as he liked with you. In fact, he would have done for sure, because he would have thought you had tricked him and he would have lost face. As it is, he thought you were a free geisha and was interested.”
I was bewildered. Auntie had always insisted we were geisha. We could all sing and dance, we had all been trained in the arts of a true geisha. We were all very talented. If we were not, Auntie would never have tolerated us for a day. Unlike a geisha in the free world, we were expected to be intimate with our clients, but those clients were very well chosen by Auntie. And everybody knew that geisha took lovers. Hadn’t my own mother, who was still spoken of as the most beautiful, most talented geisha of her generation, hadn’t she taken a lover? Of course she had, that was how I had come to be born into the Floating World, after she dared to elope with her lover and left the both the Green Tea House and Edo far behind her. I opened my mouth to explain this to innocent little Suzume,
but she forestalled me.
“You are hidden,” she said patiently. “Everybody at the Hidden House is expected to be kept from the world. You are not allowed to walk the streets like normal geisha.”
I thought about this for a moment as we walked on.
“But geisha are just as much slaves as we are,” I said doubtfully. “Unless they can find a danna to buy them out, they can never expect to pay back their debts. They have no more freedom than we do.”
I could feel Suzume’s impatience, but I was intrigued. I really could not understand what she meant. Auntie protected us Hidden House geisha for our own well-being. How often had she explained to us that we could not go out, not even into the Floating World, as to do so would sign our own death warrant? She had told us, over and over again, that normal people would find us repugnant. That they would revile us, spit on us, probably treat us with less respect than they would an animal. Hadn’t Carpi told me that she had been kept in a cage by the burakumin when she was a child? That she had been exhibited, just like some freakish wild beast? That was why our patrons were selected so very carefully. Auntie was careful to allow entrance only those who had a taste for the bizarre, as well as a very well-filled purse.
Yes, we were still geisha. Just…different.
I stopped suddenly, so suddenly that Suzume stumbled into my back.
“Please, Midori No Me,” she said. “Please, just carry on walking. If you keep stopping like that, you will attract more attention. And if you do that, Auntie will be angry with me.”
I raised my eyes over my fan, and watched the people go past us. For all my ugliness. for all my huge breasts and enormous nose and extreme height and red hair and bizarre eyes. in spite of all my deformities, no one was giving me a second glance. Even the samurai who had bumped into me had been interested rather than repulsed.
I was bewildered.
Why hadn’t I been attacked? Had things thrown at me? At the very least been ridiculed by the crowds of people who surged past us? As I glanced around me, a man – walking with what I thought must be his wife, as she wore a very plain kimono and tottered on very high geti, keeping her gaze screwed to the ground beneath an older-woman’s wig – glanced at me with obvious interest. In fact, I thought for a second that he was going to walk away from his wife to come across to me. It was only Suzume’s soft groan of terror that got me moving again.