The Japanese Lantern

by Isobel Chace

  “You’ll be up very late tonight,” Jonquil reminded him.

  The small boy nodded.

  “But I’ve slept an awful lot,” he pleaded.

  There was another knock at the door and Nobuko appeared with some tea.

  “Morning,” she grunted. “Now then, Arex-san, you not to tease. You walk far enough with flowers later and you go to wedding tonight. I put you to bed after and I want to hear all that hoppen, you understand?”

  Jonquil thanked her for the unexpected cup of tea and was rewarded by a wry smile.

  “Very hoppy day today,” Nobuko said enigmatically. “What you eat for lunch?”

  That question having been settled it was more than time to get up. Yoshiko would come round at any moment and it looked like being a very busy day.

  It took her only a few moments to dress, but even so she was hardly ready when Yoshiko did indeed arrive. The Japanese girl came running into the house, quite breathless from her hurry.

  “Oh, Jonquil,” she greeted her, “I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, could you? Do you think we ought to take the flowers round now? How long do you think it will take me to dress this evening? You will come round and help me, won’t you? Taki is going to wear a kimono, he told me so. I think he was afraid that I would wear a Western dress. Of course I wouldn’t, but I suppose he couldn’t know that! He much prefers to see me in a kimono, so it would be silly, wouldn’t it?”

  “Very silly,” Jonquil agreed as Yoshiko took in a new breath.

  “I am too excited, I think,” the Japanese girl said more soberly. “I must calm down.”

  She sat down firmly in the middle of the room and remained motionless, apparently lost in thought.

  “I didn’t wear a kimono at the Miai,” she said at last. “Perhaps it was that that made him think I would want a white wedding dress.”

  Jonquil looked bewildered.

  “I’m not with you,” she murmured.

  “But I told you!” Yoshiko said impatiently. “In Japan we meet our future husbands at a hotel, or somewhere, and then we are officially engaged and exchange gifts, the Yuino. Didn’t I tell you about it?”

  “Yes, I think you did,” Jonquil admitted, “but I didn’t recognize the Japanese word for it.”

  “Oh, I see,” Yoshiko said, magnanimously agreeing that that was reasonable. “I think I am not quite myself today,” she added thoughtfully.

  The day passed all too quickly. It took them a long time to get all the flowers round to the Shinto shrine and arrange them ready for the evening. There was a language of flowers, the women explained to Jonquil. Every flower had to be in its exact position, denoting rejoicing at the wedding. There were separate set arrangements for all sorts of occasions, they told her, and it was important to get them correct or the whole effect would be spoiled.

  Jonquil would not have dared to compete with them in any case. She had never seen such loving care expended on flowers. The Western idea of sticking a few flowers in a vase would not have been at all acceptable. They would have considered even the best of her arrangements cluttered and meaningless, and therefore it was very much better to leave them to it, contenting herself with passing them flowers and admiring the results. Each bloom had to be perfect of its type, and she was almost shocked at the numbers that they threw away as unusable.

  It was time for lunch long before she would, have believed possible, and she and Alexander had to hurry home in case they were late.

  “Old Mrs. Kagami liked you,” the boy informed her. “I heard her telling one of the others. She thought it nice of you to go today.”

  “How do you know?” Jonquil asked him, pleased in spite of herself. “They were all talking Japanese.”

  Alexander smiled up at her.

  “But I speak Japanese,” he told her.

  Nobuko took charge of Alexander after lunch, so that Jonquil could help Yoshiko get ready for the evening. They spent a happy afternoon, pottering round the Matsui house getting everything ready. This was quite an undertaking. Yoshiko had put out fourteen kimonos, each one a beautiful garment in its own right, and each one had to be pressed and laid carefully on the table ready for her to get into.

  “They are so heavy I don’t: know how I shall walk,” Yoshiko laughed. “It will be a very slow procession.”

  Then at last came the big moment when it really was time to get ready. Fresh from the bath, Yoshiko began to put on the kimonos, ending with the special ceremonial one, that stood out from her stiffly, held in place by a gorgeous obi. Then last of all a triangular headband, the “Tsunokakushi.”

  “You know what this is for? Yoshiko asked.

  Jonquil shook her head.

  “Everything seems strange to me,” she said. Yoshiko gave a quick, breathless laugh. “It is called a horn cover,” she explained. It is to hide the horns of jealousy that all women possess. Do you require one too?” she asked slyly.

  Jonquil chose to ignore that. Yoshiko was for ever making these little remarks, sure that Jason and Jonquil would eventually come together And Jonquil would not have minded in the least if she could have been anything like as sure herself! As it was it merely put her in a flutter which she rather resented, so she hastily changed the subject by telling Yoshiko of the old superstition that every bride should carry something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue, and was amused when Yoshiko insisted on carrying it out with all the solemnity of a small child.

  “What can I borrow?” she cried out.

  Laughingly, Jonquil handed her a clean handkerchief from her bag.

  “How about this?” she suggested.

  The sun was just setting when everyone gathered in the living room. Jonquil found herself introduced formally to all the women she had met that morning, some of them Yoshiko’s relatives, some of them Kagami-san’s and some of them merely friends who were taking an interest in the match. They were all in Japanese national costume except for the sprinkling of Europeans who were attending because they knew Matsui-san through his work.

  At last everyone was ready and they began to set out in procession for the shrine where the wedding was to take place. Yoshiko looked quite breathtakingly lovely, if a little pale, and as she had said the weight of the many kimonos made , the walk difficult for her and she was glad of the support of her father’s arm.

  The shrine was not far from her father’s house, but it took them all of twenty minutes to walk it, and then the full beauty of the place burst upon them. It was a mass of flowers and candlelight, with a Shinto orchestra in the background playing for all they were worth. Weird music, it sounded to Jonquil, but her ear became accustomed to it and she grew to like it, even though at first it had sounded merely off-key.

  They stood around in little groups while Yoshiko went over and stood beside Kagami-san, smiling shyly up at him. Alexander had been delivered by Nobuko, who stood somewhere in the background, and he came to Jonquil, clinging tightly to her hand.

  “What’s happening?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered back.

  She let her eyes wander round the shrine, the flickering candles, blurring the outlines of the flowers until they all ran into each other in one blaze of beauty. The scent from the flowers lay heavily on the air, the smell of chrysanthemums mingling with the perfume of dianthus, autumn crocus and anemone. Someone came and stood beside her, but she didn’t bother to look round to see who it was, until he took her hand lightly in his and whispered:

  “Miss me?”

  She couldn’t answer. She tried, but no words would come, and all she could do was to answer his pressure on her hand and hope that he would understand.

  “Hullo, Uncle Jason,” Alexander greeted him. “What are they doing?”

  “They’re waiting for the sake,” he explained in a low voice. “Then comes the San San Kudo, they exchange cups thrice, three times in succession, three times—nine times in all, and then they are married and will inform their ancestors
of the fact.”

  Alexander stared at Yoshiko, suddenly removed from him by this strange ceremony that he didn’t understand.

  “Did Mummy and Daddy get married like this?” he demanded.

  “Ssh,” Jonquil whispered.

  “Did they, Uncle Jason?”

  “No, they were married in a church.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you afterwards,” Jason said repressively.

  Alexander lowered his voice to a more suitable tone.

  “Jonquil,” he began, “why doesn’t Yoshiko get married in a church?”

  “This is a sort of church,” Jonquil explained. “You ask her to explain afterwards.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that,” he agreed, and watched in silence as the sake was brought forward and placed in front of the bride and groom.

  Jonquil was very conscious of Jason beside her as Yoshiko and Kagami Taki exchanged the little cups of rice wine, their faces serious with the solemnity of what they were doing. Soon perhaps it would be her turn to exchange vows with Jason. She gave him a quick, upward glance and he smiled at her.

  After that it seemed as though the ceremony would never end. The orchestra played on and on. The marriage contract was signed and the marriage was registered, changing Yoshiko’s name for ever to that of her husband. And still the ceremonies went on.

  The marriage was announced to both their ancestors in loud ringing tones and then Yoshiko was introduced formally to Kagami-san’s family and he to hers.

  “What happens now?” Jonquil asked of Jason.

  “We all escort her to her new home,” he whispered back, and sure enough the procession began to re-form and they began the short walk to Kagami-san’s house.

  Jonquil walked with Jason. Nobuko collected Alexander and took him home to put him to bed. He was so sleepy that for once he had no objection to make, and Jonquil hardly noticed his going. It was wonderful, strolling through the autumn night with Jason beside her.

  “It was a very pretty wedding, wasn’t it?” she said dreamily.

  “Very pretty,” he agreed.

  There didn’t seem to be very much more to say. She wanted nothing more, only to walk on for ever in this strange procession with her hand, in Jason’s.

  But everything comes to an end, and Yoshiko s new home was not very far away. The Japanese girl had taken her place beside her husband and together they received all the congratulations, Yoshiko’s green eyes sparkling with pleasure, even while she waited for Kagami-san to make the replies, only nodding her head in agreement with everything he said.

  “Now we can go,” Jason said to Jonquil.

  She searched in her mind for any excuse to put off the moment, but none was forthcoming, and as he had taken her firmly by the arm she had very little option but to accompany him.

  “Don’t you think—” she began in agitated tones.

  “No, I don’t!” he said firmly. “You’re coming with me now!”

  She went meekly, missing Yoshiko s smile of pleasure as she saw them go. She had never been in such a dither. She wanted to run as fast as she could as far as she could go from Jason. She wanted to stay close beside him. She — she no longer knew what she wanted.

  It was very dark outside, away from the bright lights and the gaiety of the wedding guests, and there was a cold nip in the air. Jonquil shivered and quickened her step to keep pace with Jason.

  “Cold?” he asked her.

  “A little,” she admitted. “It’s the sudden change from the warmth inside.”

  He took off his jacket and wrapped it round her shoulders.

  “I’m not surprised you’re cold,” he said, “in that thing. You’re half naked!”

  She made a little movement of protest and he laughed.

  “You look very nice,” he told her. “I thought you’d done me proud.”

  The warmth from his coat was pleasing on her shoulders and she snuggled into it. In some way it seemed like part of Jason himself.

  “I didn’t dress to please you, I wanted Yoshiko to feel that I’d made a special effort for her,” she said provocatively, but he only grinned.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” she added, not daring to look at him.

  He came to a stop beside her, his white shirtsleeves gleaming in the darkness.

  “I heard from Janet today,” he said in a tight voice that she scarcely recognized. “She won’t be back for another month at least.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide and undismayed.

  “I don’t suppose she will be,” she said, a little surprised. “She should be away even longer than that.”

  “I asked her to come home as soon as she could,” he told her, and started walking again. “I thought it would be better for Alexander.”

  Her heart went zooming down to her boots.

  “I think you’re perfectly horrid!” she told him violently. “The only harm Alexander has come to was to fall into the goldfish pond, and that wasn’t my fault! You made me leave him and go out with Mitchi Boko! You know you did!”

  She began running away from him, but it was difficult in her high-heeled shoes and she stumbled over the cobbles. He caught up with her easily and caught her by the arm.

  “Go away!” she cried out.

  “For heaven’s sake be quiet!” he exclaimed impatiently. “You’ll have the whole neighbourhood out on us!”

  “I hope I do!” she told him bitterly, rubbing her arm where he had grasped it.

  “Have I hurt you?” he asked her anxiously.

  She looked up at him resentfully.

  “No,” she admitted, “but you might have done!”

  He laughed at that, doubling up with disconcerting amusement, until she began to think it was funny too and began to laugh also.

  “I’ll get the car,” he said, “and we’ll go for a short drive.”

  He left her there, standing on the corner of the street, and came back a minute later with the car. He reached over the passenger seat and opened the door for her.

  “Hop in,” he said.

  She got in quickly, pulling the door shut behind her, still giggling at intervals beside him.

  “I haven’t laughed like that for ages,” she sighed.

  He gave her a comical look and smiled at her. “It was the best thing that could have happened to you. I’d have been reduced to beating you if you’d gone on misunderstanding everything I said to you!”

  That stopped her laughter.

  “D-didn’t you mean that I was bad for Alexander?” she asked timidly.

  He shook his head.

  “No, I did not,” he said.

  She waited for him to elaborate, to tell her what he had meant, but he evidently had no intention of doing anything of the sort, for the silence stretched on and on until she felt that time had got mixed up with eternity.

  “Wh-what did you mean, then?” she asked at last.

  “I meant that you would have other things to do,” he said simply.

  She crept further into his coat, wondering what he could have meant by that. He reached over to lock her door and she realized that she was sitting as far away from him as was humanly possible, but she didn’t move. Instead she gazed out of the window into the darkness, hardly daring to breathe.

  She didn’t know how long they went on driving, but they were well out in the country when he stopped the car.

  “Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

  The Americanism was so unexpected that she found herself going off at a tangent.

  “I don’t think I could have understood properly,” she found herself saying. “I thought you wanted to marry Yoshiko.”

  He put his hand in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his cigarette case. The movement pulled it off her shoulder and he tucked it back round her.

  “Cigarette?” he asked her.

  She shook her head.

  “No, thank you. I had it all worked out, from that story you told me,” she went on. “Yoshik
o was the mochi, you were the bull-frog, Matsui-san was the monkey, and Kagami-san the hare.”

  Jason lit his cigarette deliberately and for a moment she could see his face in the light from the match.

  “It fits,” he agreed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. In my story you were the mochi and Edward was the hare. I hadn’t thought about the monkey. It was the only way I could think of to tell you that I meant to get you in the end.”

  “Oh!” She was oddly disconcerted by that.

  “Didn’t you guess?” he asked her gently.

  “No,” she said. “Never!”

  He drew at his cigarette and she wondered what was coming next. When it did come, she was almost as astonished as he was.

  “What made you think that I had taken Yoshiko to Osaka that evening?” he asked.

  “But,” she exclaimed, “I recognized her shoes! The shoes you had bought her in Tokyo. Don’t you remember?”

  “So that was how you knew she was there,” he said. “And I suppose you leapt to the conclusion that the shoes next to hers were mine?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You were right,” he told her. “Mine were next to hers, but I wasn’t with her. I saw the top of your head through the glass in the door and decided to follow you.”

  “I'm glad you did,” she confessed. “I was scared of Edward that night.”

  He looked suddenly sober. She could see, for at that moment he took a puff at his cigarette and his face showed up clearly in the glow.

  “You led me a fine dance over him,” he said savagely. He threw the cigarette out of the window and turned to her.

  “Did you mean it when you said you hated me?” he asked her.

  She could feel his hand on the nape of her neck and her heart began to thud.

  “It was Kagami-san who had taken Yoshiko to that restaurant,” he told her.

  “Was it?” she asked weakly.

  His hand slipped down to her waist and pulled her across the seat towards him.

  “Well?” he said. “Did you mean it?”

  “You know I didn’t,” she protested. It was comfortable with his arms around her and she buried her face in his neck. “I never did! But even when we first arrived in Japan, I thought it was Yoshiko you wanted. It nearly broke my heart,” she added in sudden indignation.