Not entirely unfriendly, Mr. Ueda asked me if I had enjoyed my time abroad and what I thought of my old home.
“It is very changed,” I answered, which seemed to please him a little. “You know, I almost don’t recognise it. I am very glad that Nakamura was at the station to meet me. I never would have found my way alone!”
He gave a deep chuckle that seemed somewhat lacking in mirth.
“What do you make of the rail road?” he asked.
Something in his air made me cautious in my response.
“If you mean as a mode of travel, I found it quite pleasant, and very fast. Much better than walking all the way from Tokyo.”
He frowned a little in consideration. “So you are pleased the black beast has made it to our village?”
“Well, isn’t a good thing?”
I looked to Mr. Itoh and Nakamura for help. The latter came to my rescue.
“Mr. Ueda is a careful man,” said my brother-in-law. “He likes to weigh all of his options before taking action.”
“What choice is there?” I queried none in particular and all together. “The emperor has declared we progress, and so we must. Shouldn’t we take advantage of the opportunities we’ve been offered? Is this not the perfect time to do so?”
Mr. Ueda looked very unhappy at my response. Mr. Itoh grunted and tried to hide a smile.
“There, you see, Ueda?” he said. “The words of the new generation. How can we oppose such earnestness?”
I quickly apologised, stating that I had not meant any offence. Nakamura barked out a laugh and clapped Mr. Ueda on the back, exclaiming, “This one! Sometimes I feel like we are opposing forces whispering in each of Mr. Itoh’s ears. I urge for more action and progress while Mr. Ueda here demands caution. He thinks me quite reckless, Fukui. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ueda?”
Mr. Ueda raised one stern brow. “You are reckless. Mr. Fukui, are you like your brother-in-law? Do you throw yourself into the modernisation machine?”
“I am not afraid of it,” I answered.
“Clearly.”
He looked me up and down to indicate my modern manner of dress. Truthfully, the tighter cut of trousers, buttoned shirts, vests, and jackets were all I had with me. It just hadn’t occurred to me to buy new clothes while I was in Tokyo. The law required men to conduct their business in modern clothes. I could have borrowed something from Nakamura, I supposed, but judging by his surprised look, the idea hadn’t struck him either.
“I’ve become very used to these clothes,” I said, and it was true. It was all Atsushi and I ever wore in London.
“Tell me, Fukui, are those clothes quite comfortable? They look so tight to me. Aren’t they constricting?” Mr Itoh asked with interest.
“Not really,” I answered. “Not once I got used to them.”
“Why get used to them?” Mr. Ueda demanded. “My clothes are fine and comfortable. They keep me warm in winter, and I am cool in summer.”
“None of us is cool in summer,” Nakamura muttered.
Mr. Ueda ignored him and continued.
“The Emperor says we must change, but he does not say why. Why must we change ourselves into someone else’s idea of civilized? Does the rice grow better?”
I had no answer, nor did our companions. Mr. Ueda seemed satisfied with our silence, and we all continued our walk with Mr. Itoh pointing out landmarks and places that had changed since I had last lived in the village, who had married and where they lived now, etc. I think he wanted to steer the conversation clear of politics by focusing on our shared past.
As we re-approached the house, Nakamura crowed, “Oh-ho! Fukui is lucky today! Is that not Miss Yuki walking there?”
We altered our direction to join Mr. Itoh’s daughter and her young maid. She turned when she heard us, and I was struck dumb. I had not noticed when her back was to us, for she held a paper parasol over one shoulder, that Miss Yuki was entirely white. Her delicate flesh was pale as the moon, and her hair the whitest I had ever seen, while her eyes sparkled blue like the clear summer’s sky. She was like a Japanese porcelain doll. It was no wonder she had been named after snow.
“Yuki dear,” said Mr. Itoh. “This is Mr. Fukui, the younger brother of Nakamura’s wife. He arrived just yesterday from Tokyo, and before that London, England.”
I bowed quite low. She bowed also, as a proper young lady would, and we exchanged pleasantries. She squinted as she studied me, and I soon perceived the young lady had some difficulty seeing.
Mr. Ueda excused himself then, saying he’d call again later, paying noticeably, I thought, more respect to Miss Yuki than Mr. Itoh on his departure. To myself he showed little regard, causing me to wonder if I had made an enemy.
“I’m sorry,” Nakamura said to Miss Yuki. “We must have interrupted your walk.”
“No, it’s all right,” she answered, her voice sweet and soft. “Are you returning to the house?”
“I thought perhaps we’d taken up enough of your father’s precious time.”
I wanted to interrupt him and say that we could stay, but it wasn’t up to me, and I didn’t want to present myself as a nuisance on my first meeting with the old gentleman.
Mr. Itoh nodded vaguely. “I find myself fatigued. Mr. Fukui, I am glad that we met. If you are free, you should come again tomorrow. I would like to talk to you more about your modern world.”
I could have been mistaken, but I thought - hoped - that Miss Yuki’s eyes glimmered just a little with hope. I promised to return as wished, and Nakamura and I excused ourselves.
On our walk home, my brother-in-law told me not to mind Mr. Ueda. He had not served in the military like I had, nor travelled beyond the province to Nakamura’s knowledge. I assured him that I did not mind, quickly turning our conversation to Miss Yuki, a far more pleasant topic to us both.
“Why have I never seen her?” I asked. “I never would forget a person of such beauty.”
He nodded knowingly. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? I don’t think her parents let her out much when she was a child - certainly not as far as the village, anyway! It is seldom I see her out walking. Perhaps she was curious about a new visitor when her maid told her we’d come. You certainly do stand out. I thought Miss Yuki would sniff you all over like a dog!”
I made a face at him. “What an awful comparison. It was obvious she had difficulty seeing me.”
He bowed his head in apology. “Then you must give her a better look tomorrow.”
“I am returning to see her father,” I corrected. “But if she is also present, I will not regret it.”
The next day when I returned, Mr. Itoh was out overseeing his fields, though expected back shortly. I was shown into the parlour and served tea. Soon Miss Yuki’s young maid came to me, however, and informed me that Miss Yuki had requested I join her in the garden. I felt delighted.
Miss Yuki sat on a stone bench by a fish pond, shaded by overhanging trees. . Every so often, she reached out her hand and scattered food over the water’s surface that was immediately gobbled up by two large goldfish. This was an idyllic spot, I thought to myself, and the mistress an absolute vision.
When the maid announced me, I bowed, and Miss Yuki bade I step closer as she couldn’t see me from where I stood, though I was only about half a dozen paces from her. The maid - Miss Yuki called her Akiko - sat on a large stone right next to the pond.
“You must forgive me for being so demanding,” Miss Yuki said after I’d moved. “The sunlight hurts my eyes. Will you join me in the shade? Here, sit on the bench.”
“Oh, if that’s all right,” was my reply. I went ahead and seated myself on the opposite side of her bench, what I hoped was a respectable distance,.
“What’s that?” she asked, indicating my hat, which I had just removed and held in my lap.
/> “It’s called a boater.”
“May I see it?”
“Of course!”
I handed it to her and she turned it around in her hand, then held it close to her face and studied it with interest.
“It’s made of straw?” she asked.
I nodded, then, thinking she might miss the gesture, answered aloud, “Yes. And the band is cotton.”
“This is from London?”
Again I answered yes, and she smiled, murmuring, “How far it has travelled.” She returned my hat to me, adding, “I would like to have a hat like that. It’s very nice.”
“It’s very good for keeping the sun out of one’s eyes,” I said. “Also it’s light, making it very good for travelling, or rambling about the countryside.”
“A leisure hat.”
“Quite so!”
I was pleased how well she grasped the concept and perceived her to have a keen mind.
“Your jacket,” she went on, squinting her eyes to see it better. “What is it made of?”
“Cotton. I bought this also in London.”
She raised her hand as if to touch my sleeve, then paused and asked for permission. I granted it, lifting my arm to meet her halfway.
“It’s soft, but rough at the same time,” she observed. I wasn’t sure I would have described it thus, and told her so. She grinned and arched her white brows, informing me that she was quite an expert on textiles. I laughed, saying I would yield to her superior knowledge.
“I’m not sure I could get used to wearing such clothing,” she said, looking pensive.
“Oh, no!” I answered. “Women don’t wear trousers and jackets in London! They wear fine dresses with ruffles and lace.”
“Do they wear a sash?” She placed her hand on the broad cloth that circled her middle.
“No. They wear something called a corset, and it goes under the dress, not over. Their shoes are very different, too, not like our clogs at all. English shoes are made from leather, they cover the entire foot, and a string goes all up the front, tying the shoe closed so it will not fall off.”
She looked quite puzzled and I wondered if I had described things badly. But I was no expert on women’s fashion!
“Are you wearing these shoes?” she asked.
“Well, I am wearing shoes for men. Again, they are different from women’s shoes.”
I held out my foot and looked down at my shoe. She bent to touch it, which is when we were interrupted by Mr. Itoh’s arrival.
“I see you are keeping our guest entertained, Yuki dear,” he said.
I could not tell if he was disapproving, but Miss Yuki’s cheeks blossomed crimson, and I quickly rose to my feet and bowed to her father.
“Mr. Itoh,” said I. “I’ve returned as you requested.”
The old man grunted. “It’s hot today, and I’ve been walking a long ways. I think I would like some sake. Will you join me, Fukui?”
“Certainly.”
We left Miss Yuki and returned to the parlour where I presented my host with a gift. I had brought many souvenirs with me from London for just such occasions. Mr. Itoh unwrapped the thin box and lifted out its contents carefully, obviously uncertain what he was receiving. I provided him with an explanation.
“It’s called gin. The English drink gin instead of sake.”
“Gin?” Mr. Itoh echoed. “I don’t know it.”
He opened the bottle and took a sniff, looking pleased with what he found. He then called the woman who had let me into the house and told her to bring two sake cups, saying that we should try this gin immediately. I was glad that I had chosen well in my choice of gift. I had acquired a taste for gin while I was in London, and intuition had counselled that I bring a bottle for the older man.
The first part of our ensuing conversation revolved around the gin - its flavour andits composition. This led to tales of my nights drinking with my friends in London, and Mr. Itoh recounted stories of his own youth spent in a very different time and place. I had been born and raised in the village along the coast, the son of a fisherman, but Mr. Itoh had grown to manhood in this very house, which he told me had been smaller in those days.
I told Mr. Itoh all I could about English society and the wonderful machines they had: perfect captures of moments in time called photographs; difference engines, great machines of calculation I couldn’t understand myself, though I had seen them demonstrated more than once; enormous airships that floated through the sky like clouds, carrying people to distant lands. My host had, of course, already seen the rail road and the steam ships that came into the nearby port. Had I ridden in an airship? Once to the Continent, but not to Japan for it was much too expensive to make such a long journey.
Mr. Itoh took a sip of gin, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing, and considered all my words. Finally, he said, “These are, indeed, wondrous things. Do you think they are good? Boats that fly; perfect pictures of life? What will happen to our wood block printers? They’ll be put out of business.”
I had to disagree. “This is merely something new to exist alongside the old. It won’t replace it. I have seen life-sized automatons that dance like real women, but they can’t charm like real women, and there are only a few steps they repeat over and over. They are impressive, it’s true, yet they cannot replace the real thing.”
He gazed thoughtfully past me after my little speech, then asked, “Do you think they are a passing fad?”
“I think some are mere toys,” I admitted, thinking of the gifts I had given my sister and brother-in-law. “The automatons are delightful, amusing, and entertaining, of course! But we need not fear them. Look at the trains and the airships. Both are very useful! Modernisation is not a fad. It is the future.”
“Ueda thinks that the world will tire of these toys, as you call them. He thinks we must hold fast to the old ways - that they endure.”
“Yes, they endure for now. But does Mr. Ueda not recall the hardships on the farmers under the old ways? When every farmer had to give up his entire crop of rice to the lord and pray for enough returned to feed his family?”
“Do you remember?” Mr. Itoh fixed me with a firm gaze that I shied away from. “I remember,” the old man went on, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “I remember my family scrambling to find other ways to get the things we needed. The unrest. The futility. Do you think your modernisation can soothe those wounds that many still feel?”
“I believe so. In time. Look at me, a fisherman’s son educated overseas. And you, more prosperous than ever before. Are these bad things?”
Mr. Itoh reflected a moment. “I am pleased with my spot in life. As are you, I am sure. I hope you are right. Here’s to our continued good fortune!”
He refilled our cups with gin and we toasted.
When I took my leave of Mr. Itoh, I was surprised to find Akiko waiting for me in the foyer. She bowed low at my approach.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Miss Yuki would like to know if you have plans for tomorrow.”
“Regrettably, yes,” I told her. “I must pay a visit to my uncle’s brother in the village.”
“Mr. Hamasaki the innkeeper?”
“That’s right.”
Akiko bowed again. “I understand. Please excuse me.”
My sister and brother-in-law declined to accompany me to the village the next day. I set out early after breakfast with a gift of a portable writing desk that I thought might be appreciated by a rising businessman. The inn was already busy when I arrived, and it was some time before Mr. Hamasaki could sit down and share sake with me. He was thrilled with the writing desk. I had been prepared to repeat my history of my time abroad, a task that was growing rather tiresome at this point, but it seemed the inn was too busy, and Mr. Hamasaki was quite distracted while we spoke.<
br />
With the rest of my day freed up, I decided to take in the changes in my home-village. I had already seen the telegraph and post office, noodle shops, and a store selling souvenirs down by the rail station. There were more homes, of course, and a couple new places to get sake and food, though Hamasaki’s inn was by far the largest. My brother-in-law had not been joking when he’d told me that it had doubled in size. I ended my wanderings by paying my respects at the temple.
As I was about to leave, I was surprised to find two familiar faces coming through the gate, Miss Yuki and her maid Akiko. Naturally, I greeted them warmly. Akiko bowed to me, then withdrew shyly behind her mistress.
“I didn’t think I would see you again so soon,” I said to Miss Yuki.
“It’s a small village,” was her demure reply.
“Do you come here often? Nakamura said he didn’t often see you out.”
“I don’t come often, no. But the weather is warm, and the sea air is good for one’s health, is it not?”
“I’ve often been told this. They also say it’s good for one’s appetite. Have you eaten?” When she hesitated to respond, I quickly apologised and continued, “But you must have come here for a reason and I’m interrupting.”
“No.” She smiled a little. “It’s all right. I really was just out for a walk, and I do find I am a little hungry.”
We walked to a place very nearby for grilled fish and rice. Since I had made the invitation, I paid for all of us. I found the ladies to be quite pleasant company, though Akiko still acted a little shy.
“I hope your father really did enjoy the gin that I brought and was not humouring me,” I said, then realised that might have been an awkward thing to say. It had been many years since I entertained Japanese ladies. Miss Yuki, however, didn’t seem to mind if it were.
Valves & Vixens Page 4