by India Millar
My mouth opened and closed. I tried to speak, but nothing emerged but a croak. I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Only exactly what he asked me to do, Auntie.” Not quite the truth, but near enough. I had certainly acted in the spirit of what Mori-san had wanted.
Auntie stared at me. When she spoke, I was so surprised I thought I had misheard her.
“He told me that his wife died last year.” I was almost sure that Auntie was trying to keep her face composed, and that she was hiding – surely not! – laughter rather than anger. The tiniest firefly of hope began to glow in my shaking body. I bowed my head in polite interest. Mori-san had already told me that, and I had commiserated with him, as was only proper. “I knew that already, of course.”
Of course she did. Auntie knew everything and everybody in the Floating World. She knew who was married to whom, who had been born, who had died, who her patrons were interested in, which tea house was prospering, which was going downhill. If it had – or could have – any bearing on Auntie’s business, then she knew about it.
But suddenly, I was slightly less terrified. Auntie had no doubt expressed polite surprise and sorrow at Mori-san’s “news,” but why was she telling me?
“Has Mori-san spoken to you about his wife?”
“No, Auntie, except to tell me she had died quite recently.”
“I knew of his wife. Then again, most of the Floating World knew of his wife. She was…” Auntie paused and sucked her lips. “She was an unusual woman. She was much higher class than Mori-san. She came to him with a very good dowry, I understand. Enough to set him up in his own business.”
This was interesting. A high-class woman marrying beneath herself and still coming to her husband with a good dowry? That was unheard of! There had been, in the past, women of the samurai class who had, for some terrible transgression or other, been sold into virtual slavery as courtesans by their honorable family. But even those women were enslaved for only five or perhaps seven years, until it was considered that the stain on the family honor had been cleansed. Then they were welcomed back into their clan, and their period of absence was simply forgotten. Generally, they married well and continued with their lives as if nothing had ever interrupted it. Some said it still happened, but I had my doubts. For a woman of a high-class family to marry beneath her generally meant being disowned by her family, treated as an outcast. Forever.
Auntie must have seen the surprise on my face, as she nodded and continued. And yes, she was struggling not to laugh. “Mori-san’s wife was generally known as a very commanding sort of woman. To be blunt about it, she was bossy. It was generally thought that she wore the sword in the family and that her husband simply did as he was told. In fact, she was so bad that many swore she was not a woman at all, but a man who had been born in a woman’s body. That was why she could not marry into her own class, her reputation was so bad. Her father was actually Mori-san’s patron, and the gossip at the time was that he offered his daughter to Taruko-san with a good dowry, giving him the choice of taking her or of having his business destroyed before it could even begin to flourish. Being a sensible man, Mori-san took the woman and the dowry. And flourish he did. His wife brought not only a substantial dowry, but a good business head and even better connections. I heard that many of his patron’s friends flocked to him simply because they were so relieved that they were no longer in fear of being offered his wife in marriage.”
I struggled not to laugh myself. My poor Mori-san! Had his wife treated him as a servant for years, I wondered? But, again, why Auntie had sent for me? All desire to laugh died.
“Anyway, that is all history. Mori-san came to me this morning to make an offer for you, Midori No Me.”
My mouth fell open in disbelief. Mori-san had made an offer for me? Auntie glanced at me shrewdly, and then continued.
“He wants to marry you,” she said bluntly.
Well, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Marriage? Mori-san wanted to marry me? Not take me as a mistress, but marry me? Take me out of the Hidden House and turn me into a respectable woman? A woman who could have everything she asked for? And no mother-in-law about the place to make my life hell?
“What do you think about that, Midori?”
I swallowed, trying to focus my thoughts. I should be hopping about the place in delight. This was unheard of! The likes of me, who had been born and raised in the Hidden House as a freak to be taken by any man who had the money and the credentials to be allowed in, to actually be offered for as wife by a well-off man, and a kind, gentle man at that. A man who I was even quite fond of, albeit in the same way I might have been fond of a helpless puppy. Why, I should be on my knees, banging my head on the mat in front of Auntie in thankfulness for my good fortune.
Why, then, was I not?
Thoughts jostled in my brain. I knew Auntie was watching me carefully, so I gritted my teeth, forcing my face to remain neutral.
I did not dislike Mori-san. He was truly a nice man. But I was not the wife he had lost. It was amusing to be able to order him about, but – oh, that word yet again! – but did I really want to live the rest of my life with a man I knew I would soon come to despise for his very weakness? A milksop? No, I did not want that. I wanted a man who was a man. A man who would tell me what to do. I may not always want to do as I was told, of course, but at least I would have a man with some resilience. A real man, not one who wanted to hide his head in my black moss. A man I could respect.
I wanted Danjuro. I wanted him so badly that I was prepared to stay in the Hidden House if that was what it took. Suddenly, the thought of poor Mori-san and his eagerness to please and his lost-puppy-dog look made me feel quite sick.
I spoke slowly, choosing my words with great care. Auntie was offering me the world on a plate; it would not do to anger her.
“I am lost for words, Auntie. Mori-san has truly done me great honor.”
“I turned him down.”
The words took some time to penetrate my leaping thoughts, but when they did, I could have fallen on my knees and embraced Auntie. Instead, I bowed my head and tried to pin an expression of deep sorrow on my face.
“It was a reasonable offer, but not enough. I daresay he might come back with something better, and if he does, then I will consider it. But that is not the only reason I turned him down, Midori.”
I fixed my eyes on the floor, waiting for whatever was to come.
“While you were occupied with Mori-san last night, Danjuro came.” Somebody took my heart in their hand and squeezed it tightly. Danjuro! Had my thoughts summoned him at last? Auntie was frowning, pursing her lips so that the wrinkles on her upper lip stood out as if they were carved. “It seems, Midori, that you are very favored at the moment. Danjuro came to see you. Suzume let him in, and when he demanded you, she brought him to me, as was right.”
I nodded vigorously. Get on with it, Auntie! I begged silently.
“I explained to him that not even for the great Danjuro, not even for the shogun himself, could I take you away from a patron.” She paused and wrinkled her brow, “Well, perhaps for the shogun. Or one of the very great nobles.” I very nearly reached out to shake her, to make her get on with it. Danjuro! Suzume had been right, all along. He had not forgotten me! “I explained to him that you were with a patron, and that I could not disturb you. That it would be a gross breach of manners and could not be done. The reputation of my house would have been lost in an instant.”
She paused again, nodding to herself in satisfaction. I cursed Mori-san and myself. While I was pleasuring myself with my insignificant little patron, I could have been with Danjuro! Truly, sometimes the gods displayed a perverse sense of humor. Why, oh why, hadn’t Suzume gotten word to me? Even as I thought it, I shrugged the idea away. As Auntie had said, for the shogun, I could have been diverted. Most certainly would have been, if Auntie did not want to find herself cut in two. But no, not for any lesser man, no matter what my own thoughts on the matter w
ere.
Suzume would not have dared. Mad as I was for Danjuro, I would not have dared. Would I?
“Was Danjuro angry, Auntie?”
“He was furious. He paced my rooms like a caged tiger. I offered him his choice of the other girls – as luck would have it, you were the only one with a patron so late – but he would have none of it. I offered him the bathhouse and the attentions of all the other girls, but I might as well have saved my breath. I even offered him Big or Bigger, or both, in case his tastes might be diverted by them, but I might as well have not spoken.” Deeply thankful, I nodded vigorously. Finally I would have something to tell Bigger the next time he asked me about Danjuro! “In the end, he calmed down enough to drink tea with me. I had to tell him that it was no good him just turning up and demanding you. That Danjuro or not, I could not keep you sitting about the place waiting for him.”
I goggled at her. Truly, Auntie was a brave woman! Would anybody else have dared to have spoken to the great Danjuro like that? I doubted it. Although even as I doubted it, I did wonder, deep inside, if I might also have argued with him. The thought pleased me greatly. I would like Danjuro prowling about my room, like a caged beast. A beast who might not be tamed, but oh, the delights of trying!
“What did he say to that, Auntie?”
“He was not happy. I thought he was going to throw his teacup at me and leave for a moment. But his manners are too good to allow that kind of thing.” She smirked like a young girl and I realized that Danjuro had worked his magic, even on the adamantine Auntie. “Eventually, we agreed. You will be available for him on the third day of each week. He will either come here to you or he will send for you to go the kabuki. If he cannot come or for some reason he does not want you to go to him, he will still pay the negotiated fee.”
I could feel happiness radiating out of me like a beacon fire. Had Auntie touched me at that moment, I would have burned her hand. I tried and tried to keep my face composed, but I knew that I had not achieved it. Auntie looked at me shrewdly.
“And that is another reason why I will not sell you to Mori-san, child. When it is known that Danjuro has bestowed such honor on my humble house, we will be turning the customers away.” She cackled gleefully. “Please him, Midori. Whatever he asks of you, give him double.”
I said, “I will do my best, Auntie.”
She grinned, showing her uneven teeth. “Truly, the gods are favoring you, Midori-chan. What a pity I did not know about Mori-san’s kind offer before I spoke to Danjuro. It would have been interesting to share the news with him. To have seen his reaction.”
For once, I agreed with her.
Chapter Eleven
The bone moon watches
Without interest.
Does it see us?
Truly is it said that the gods do not like us mere humans to have too much good fortune. Too much happiness is not good for us. It makes us inflated with pride and too god-like for our own good.
I realized this the same week that Mori-san asked for me and Danjuro came to see me but did not find me.
The girls were anxious to know what had happened. They knew, of course, that Danjuro had come and was turned away by Auntie. Someone was always awake in the Hidden House, always listening, no matter what the hour of the day. Kiku said his face had been like thunder when he left. I was delighted and didn’t bother to hide my pleasure.
Oh, that I had only known what was to come. How humble would I have been then! Even though I gave thanks to the gods for my good fortune, if I had known how annoyed they were getting with me, I would have been on my knees in front of the house shrine, offering incense and praying for forgiveness for my own happiness.
But I did not. How could I? How could any mere human know the ways of the gods? And if I had known, it would have been a false face I presented to them. For the first time in my life, I felt I had value. That I was wanted. That the man I loved wanted me. Could even the gods have expected me to be truly less than happy?
The girls crowded around as soon as I came out of Auntie’s rooms. They hustled me off to the bath and surrounded me. Even little Suzume was allowed in beside us after she had scrubbed our backs and poured water over us.
Proudly, I told them the story of how Mori-san had made an offer for me. Not as his mistress, but as his wife. It was, I think, the only time in its whole history that the bathhouse in the Hidden House had been totally silent.
Then all the girls started talking at once. I let them ramble on, smug in my own joy. Until Masaki – perched on the steps, as usual – asked, “What about Danjuro? We all heard him come in, and Suzume took him straight to Auntie. Didn’t you, Suzume?”
Puffed up with importance at being included in the conversation, Suzume nodded vigorously. “I did. He wanted Midori-chan, and when I said she was engaged with a patron, I thought he was going to explode he was so angry. He wanted me to go get Midori-chan at once. Straight away. And when I said I couldn’t, he said he was going to get her himself.”
The girls all drew in deep breaths, their eyes huge. I was so inflated with self-importance, I was quite surprised I didn’t float to the top of the steaming water.
“No!” Kiku gasped. “What did you say?”
“I bowed and told him that I couldn’t do that, that if I did, Auntie would take my skin off. I managed to sound really terrified, and he calmed down a bit, said he understood it wasn’t my fault. So I said I would take him to talk to Auntie. He really is the most attractive man, isn’t he? So tall and commanding.”
I looked at Suzume through the steam and gave her a glance to tell her not to overdo things. She caught on immediately and lowered her eyes modestly to the water.
It didn’t matter. She could have said Danjuro was eight feet tall and had devil’s horns and no one would have contradicted her. They were all too eager to share in my moment of romance. I didn’t blame them, not for a minute. I would have been just the same.
“What did Auntie say about him?” Naruko asked in her chirping Japanese.
“She said he was furious that I was with a patron,” I said. “He wanted me to leave Mori-san straight away and go with him.” A sharp intake of breath all around. “Auntie said she couldn’t do that, of course, and that made him even more angry. Eventually, she calmed him down and they agreed that I would be reserved for him on every third day of each week, no matter who else wanted me. He will either send for me to go to the kabuki or he will come here.”
I stopped and shrugged, as if it was all of no real importance. The girls sat in a ring around me, each of their faces – with the exception of Suzume, who simply looked gleeful – looking as if they were so hungry they wanted eat me. It was Masaki who put her finger on the nub of the thing.
“What are you going to do if Mori-san comes back with an offer that Auntie can’t refuse?”
I squirmed. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Mori-san is a nice man, and he wants me to be his wife. I am deeply honored, of course…” I trailed off, some of my happiness draining away as I realized that this was no fairy tale with a happy ending. This was real life, where things did not always go entirely as one would want them to.
“You could always marry him and take Danjuro as your lover,” Kiku said helpfully. The girls nodded their agreement, but the idea left me numb. How could I possibly do that? To begin with, how could I betray a man who had taken me out of the Hidden House, not to make me a mistress but an honorable wife? It was unthinkable. Although I guessed that if I told Mori-san that those were the terms I would marry him under, he would probably be happy to agree. But that thought did not please me either. How could I possibly submit to my husband’s caresses when all the while I was thinking of my lover, wishing I was lying in his arms, kissing his lips, feeling his tree of flesh seeking entrance to my black moss?
No. The idea was repugnant. Knowing I could never make the girls understand my stupid objections, I smiled. “Oh well. I’ll worry about that if and when it happens.”
They all nodded, clearly pleased. What else could a woman in the Floating World do but take whatever chance of happiness she could grab? Especially a woman like me, a woman that the gods were smiling upon.
Or so I thought.
It was only when we climbed out of the bath that I came out of my trance of happiness long enough to realize that, out of all the girls, Carpi was missing. I asked Kiku where she was. She shrugged.
“She says she’s not feeling well again. I don’t know what’s the matter with her. If she doesn’t pull herself together she’s going to stop smiling at the patrons and Auntie is going to get really annoyed with her. Even Carpi isn’t above having the Boys inflicted on her if it comes to it.”
Now that I thought of it, it must have been a week – no, more than a week, perhaps a fortnight – since I had seen Carpi. She had stopped joining us all in the bath and had been conspicuous by her absence when we girls got together for our regular tea and chat times. I would, I decided virtuously, go and see her. Tell her all my news. Cheer her up. After all, Carpi had been my Older Sister for my mizuage. We were supposed to be special to each other.
I tapped on Carpi’s screen door gently. When there was no reply, I knocked again, harder. I was about to turn away, thinking she was perhaps asleep, when her voice called out, asking who it was. I said it was me, cheerfully, and was a little hurt when Carpi took her time to answer, and even then sounded reluctant.
The smile faded from my lips when I entered. Carpi nodded to me to close the door, and I was glad to turn my back to hide my face, to give me time to adjust my expression.
How had Carpi come to look like this in the space of a few weeks? As I walked across the tatami, my mind was working furiously. It hadn’t just been a few weeks, had it? Hadn’t I thought months ago that Carpi was looking very thin, not just in her body, but in her face? That she seemed to have lost some of her animation? But my own adventures, my own pleasures, had pushed any concern for poor Carpi out of my mind and I had simply forgotten about my Older Sister. That was when I began to suspect that the gods themselves were jealous of me and had decided to make a mockery of my sudden good luck.