Another time he had brought a big paper sack. "You see," he had said, "I caught all the mosquitoes in our house. So now it's all right to break down the walls."
When she was finally able to determine that the person now sitting at the head of her bed was Iso and that she was lying in a room at Minojin House, Tatsuya was the first person Ichi inquired about.
"So Tatsuya was saved after all. I'm so glad," she said.
"You know, Kyunosuke has been here," Iso said smiling, avoiding Ichi's question. "He's very sunburned, has got fat, and looks like a farmer, doesn't he?"
Ichi knit her brows and tried to remember. Kyunosuke . . . she thought she had seen him, but then maybe not . . .
Iso realized that she was disturbing Ichi by saying things she did not need to say, and tried to talk around the subject.
"Well, well, go back to sleep," she said as she changed the wet towel on Ichi's forehead. "Since you're still tired you shouldn't think about anything. . . . Just feel relieved and sleep. Everything's going to be all right. There's nothing for you to worry about."
Twelve or thirteen days after that, Ichi thought, Iso disappeared. Either a housemaid, or Josuke's wife, Gen, began to sit at her bed as Iso's replacement. Mankichi came to see her many times every day, and Teijiro also visited her once in a while. His face was always pale and dispirited, and he looked as if he wanted to complain to her about his worries but could not bring himself to talk about them. Instead of inquiring about Ichi's health, he merely sat for a while and left without a word.
Around that time she discovered that she was likely under house arrest, for officers from the deputy's office were in attendance in the next room and a doctor, also from the deputy's office, came daily to examine her.
During this time the repairs to the weaving shop were finished, and six new weaving machines were purchased with clan assistance. Four of the machines were for Ichi, and three girls, it was said, had been hired as her assistants.
"Could I possibly do such work while I'm under house arrest?" When Ichi spoke to Mankichi about her doubts, he shook his head, saying that actually she was by no means under house arrest. "When you're completely recovered and are able to sit at the machine, the daughters of the clan's samurai families are supposed to come here from Ogaki to take lessons from you.
Early one evening, an evening of cool autumn breezes shortly after Ichi had begun getting up for brief periods, Kyunosuke came to visit. The officers in the next room had now begun leaving in the afternoon, and weavers who used to be friendly with Ichi came to chat with her in the evening. Ume in particular was very much attached to her and said eagerly that she was going to be Ichi's first pupil no matter what anyone else said or did.
Kyunosuke's garb was a cross between farmer's and merchant's dress, and he was carrying a fan. He was sunburned, had grown stout, and looked just like Tatsuya when he smiled.
"Please stay as you are . . . please remain lying down," he said, and sat down at the head of the bed, looking cramped. "I heard you're getting much better. Your complexion has improved tremendously. I'm relieved."
"You've gained weight too."
"I'm surprised about that myself. I've been walking the chalk line between life and death, yet I look as if I've been eating the bread of idleness and fooling away my time. But of course, if I compare my hardships to yours, sister, I guess that's just about the case." He put his hands on his knees and bowed his head, gazing into Ichi's eyes. "It's hard to say it as it should be said, . . . but thank you very much, sister."
"I'm so happy to see you alive, Kyunosuke. I knew what a hard time you were having."
"Sister, . . . no, I shouldn't talk about this yet." He suddenly raised his head. "I want to explain all that has happened after everything has settled down and I can take my time. I intended to tell you after I found out how well you were, but I have to go to Edo again."
"You say 'again.' Then you were in Edo all the time after it happened?"
"No, I've been going back and forth. I even pretended to be a beggar—what a show ! I intended to go to Ogasa, too, but the security watch was so strict I couldn't even get near the place. If there hadn't been this confusion about the flood, I wouldn't be here even now. Oh, about the flood ..."
He was suddenly upset and coughing violently, waving his hand. "Oh, that's right, I have something to apologize to you for. You know, I often importuned you for pocket money, didn't I, sister? It has to do with that."
"What are you talking about now?" Ichi realized what Kyunosuke was going to say and why he had broken off. She smiled and went along with his game nonchalantly. "You're too smart to start begging from me again!"
"Oh, no, I'm not going to beg, I'm going to tell you the truth. I wasn't begging for pocket money to spend—I was saving it to give you a present, sister." He blushed in embarrassment, and put his hand to his neck. "Do you remember a fancy shop called 'Monhachi' in Kyomachi? They had for sale a red-lacquered toilet case with a gold decorative pattern. It was as large as this . . ."he gestured with his hands, "and the red-and-gold combination was inexpressibly beautiful ; but the price was so high I simply couldn't buy it by saving only my pocket money. But I really wanted to make you a present of it. So, as a last resort, I started begging from you."
"I'm happy to hear that," Ichi smiled at him. "But if that's the case, I think I'll have to invest much more capital before I receive the toilet case!"
"No, you don't have to worry. I'm so sorry, but during all the commotion the case was sold. I had made a deposit on it, but since I hadn't made any payments in six months . . . surely someday ..."
"Oh no, no, thank you." This time Ichi really laughed. "Your good intention alone is enough. I'll accept a present from you after you succeed in life."
After an hour Kyunosuke left. She had been waiting for the conversation to turn to her husband's case, but it did not. She had been afraid to ask about him, fearing that any inquiries might make her seem too much attached to her husband. But just before his departure Kyunosuke said, "I think the situation seems to be turning out favorably," and this was Ichi's most encouraging hope.
She had already given up hope for Tatsuya. Since she had seen him and heard his words so clearly and vividly during her illness, for a long time she had been sure of their reality. But because of her mother-in-law's attitude, or because she had heard nothing about Tatsuya from Josuke and his wife, she could not deny that it was an illusion, that he had met with disaster somewhere on the day of the flood, as she had feared.
What Ichi found unbearable was the thought that he had met that disaster when he went out to look for her. Might he have approached close to danger in his excessive worry over her and been driven to despair when he found out that it was too late? The most unbearable of all her fantasies was the thought of Tatsuya's face at that moment, with its lost look. He would have gazed around with his easy yet flustered expression and murmured, "I guess it's rather hopeless." Ichi could visualize him doing just that, and every time she thought of him she felt as if she were suffocating.
"I've learned that the appointment of the heir has been announced," Mankichi told her one day. "They say it's Einoshin, the second son of the Matsudaira family of Tatebayashi in Kozuke—Echi-Matsudaira, they're called—and that he'll soon come to pay his respects."
"To pay his respects, you say? That must mean Lord Toda is ill."
"I guess inspecting the flood district affected his health. They say he's been confined to bed for quite some time, and there's also a rumor that he's in critical condition."
This story gave Ichi something new to worry about. If the lord was sick in bed and in critical condition, what would become of the investigation into those five volumes of records? If the heir from Tatebayashi was the person recommended by her husband's allies, everything would be all right. But if he had been supported by the clique of Otaka, chief vassal of the clan, she had to judge that all was lost. Since either event would determine her destiny, Ichi's worry was by no me
ans a petty one.
Soon after the news of the heir's appointment, more than ten officers from the deputy's office began guarding her. However, it looked more as if they were guarding all of Minojin House rather than overseeing Ichi. Later she found out that the investigation of the Otaka clique had begun at Ogaki castle, and it was said that Lord Toda had ordered a guard placed around Ichi.
The first two weeks of August came and went. Fall had begun.
19
ICHI, NOW completely recovered, started working on the weaving machines as soon as she had left her sickbed. She was stopped and told to start only after she had more fully recuperated, but she persisted because working on the machines distracted her from her worries. She began to weave the mats slowly, teaching the technique to Ume and the girls who had now been hired. The officers kept close watch over the people coming and going, and thus there was almost no communication with the outside world. Since she had not had an opportunity in a long time to see Josuke and his wife, she could not even find out how her mother-in-law was.
"Anyway, I've done the best I could," she consoled herself. "Good or bad, it's no use struggling any longer." She became completely absorbed in her work.
At the beginning of September a messenger came from Ogaki castle with an order to appear at the castle in the company of Teijiro. Thirty guardsmen and a carriage were provided for her. Ichi, seeing that half of them were armed with matchlocks, vacillated in her estimate of whether this was a good or a bad omen and was almost ashamed of the way she trembled while she was getting ready.
"I think I'll probably be able to come back soon," said Ichi, gazing into the face of each girl in the weaving shop as she said her farewells. "Even if I can't come back, if you make your design based on what I taught you, you should be able to make fine flower mats. Patience and the desire to make good things are the most important factors. Please don't get bored—help each other, work at it. . . . Urne, young as you are you must try to help the others, since you're the one most familiar with the work. I'm counting on you."
She felt almost as if she were expressing her last wishes, exaggerated as the idea was. They all came out to the gate to see her off. The vision of Ume, who had come out to the road and was constantly wiping the tears off her cheeks with her apron, remained in Ichi's memory for a long time.
As she was about to cross over from Karasue, she saw the stream of the Ibi River and its long dike in the far distance. A year ago she had walked with her mother-in-law and Tatsuya along this dike. She could recollect so vividly the confusion of that time, the feeling of being pursued, and her loneliness and uneasiness, as if it were only yesterday. When she closed her eyes she could see Tatsuya, who had been talking in such a casual manner about catfish. Ichi wiped away her tears and softly recited the Buddhist prayers for the dead for Tatsuya.
It took them four hours to travel seven miles. Shortly before four o'clock in the afternoon they reached the southeast gate of Ogaki, where three samurai took charge of them. Then Ichi and Teijiro were escorted to an antechamber in the Shinoda citadel around Ogaki castle. After they had tidied themselves and waited for a while, they were taken to the main castle.
The treatment accorded them after their arrival in the castle was not the type of treatment given to people who are to be punished. Ichi, who had been brought up in a samurai family, was aware of this, and the worry and doubt which had been nagging at her mind finally lessened. She heaved a sigh of relief and felt a cheerful expression come over her countenance.
Teijiro and Ichi sat down on a straw mat provided for them in the garden, with two officers in attendance on each side. The setting sun of late summer dyed the eaves of the palace red, and a red dragonfly rested its wings on the broad step with an air of enjoyment, warming its body in the waning daylight. The scene aroused a lonely, empty feeling of autumn at its peak.
At the sound of quick steps coming down the corridor, Ichi and Teijiro bowed their heads. Although they could not see, it seemed to be three people, judging by the sounds they made as they took their places. Soon one of them called Teijiro's and Ichi's names, and, after they had answered, another person quietly rustled a piece of paper.
"Ichi, resident of Shimada village, Yoro district of our clan, dependent of Teijiro," the person read, "you have endured hardships and have behaved dutifully to your mother-in-law after separation from your husband due to an unforeseen event, despite ample reason to withdraw your presence ..."
The voice described both her successful effort, after Minojin House had hired her, to produce a competent piece of work despite her lack of experience and also her creation of a beautiful flower mat the likes of which had never before been seen. As she listened, Ichi began to tremble in amazement. The voice had the powerful, quiet tone and characteristic clear intonation of her husband's. His voice seemed to have become somewhat husky and deeper than before, but she felt that her awareness of the change was indeed proof that it was her husband's voice. Her hands, as she lay prostrate, trembled violently.
"And during the flood in July you paid no heed to your beloved child in the emergency, but risked your own life to save your elderly mother-in-law. Although this was no more than your duty, still your noble intention is especially admirable. Therefore, His Highness bestows ten pieces of white gold and one kimono upon you. Signed, Shinzo Kugata, Chamberlain."
Ichi caught her breath and lifted up her face. It was indeed her husband who was sitting on the veranda and gazing at her as he rolled up the proclamation. As she looked at his firm shoulders under the linen formal kimono, his broad forehead with the clear hairline, and his lips which revealed the depth of his feeling,
Ichi's body shook with such violent passion that only with great difficulty did she restrain herself from flying to him.
Shinzo added calmly, "You may stay at your house in the castle town tonight." To Teijiro he expressed his praise for the master's special service—his good care of Ichi and his production of a flower mat unparalleled in any other country. He urged Teijiro to try to work at this project and develop it as a speciality of the clan, and promised him various rewards.
Ichi was listening attentively to each word with all her senses and nerves, as if absorbing everything he said. She could not understand the meaning of the words; all she wanted was to thoroughly grasp and absorb his voice itself, to melt into it body and soul.
The color of the sky was deepening into dusk by the time she returned to her beloved house in the castle town. She walked through the dear old gate, and as she approached the front door the servant Yagobei came out to meet her.
"Oh, are you back?" Ichi was about to say, when Iso came running out. "Mother!" Ichi stretched out her hands and ran to her.
"Welcome back! Welcome back!" Iso took her daughter-in-law's hands and smiled. "You've finally come back! Are you completely better? I think you look thinner."
"Oh, no. On the contrary, I've gained weight." She walked into the hallway, still holding her mother-in-law's hands. "When I try to tighten my obi it slides up like this. I've become like a young girl around here—I'm rather embarrassed. . . . Yagobei is back, isn't he?"
"Yes, and Wakichi and Heisuke, and Hana too— they're all back. I heard that Kyunosuke will be coming back at the end of the month."
When she walked into the living room and sat down, the servants assembled to greet her. Immediately after their withdrawal, Shinzo entered.
Upon hearing a servant announce him, Ichi stood up, almost instinctively. She felt surprised that her attitude had not changed in the slightest from what it had been before the events, and that her present actions were linked to those of the earlier time as naturally as if nothing had happened, as if the blank space of one year had not existed. As she received her husband's sword in the front room and followed him into the living room, Ichi was thinking, Everything's the same as before. Everything is going to settle down as before ; the storm is over.
When Ichi had lit the lantern and brought him tea, Shinzo
told her to sit down and looked into her eyes. She lifted up her eyes for the first time. Except for the voice of her mother-in-law, who was in the kitchen giving orders to Hana, it was perfectly still in the house.
Shinzo gazed at his wife's face warmly for a long time. Then he quietly bowed his head and said in a low voice that was almost a murmur, "I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble. What I want to thank you for, aside from looking after my family, is your direct petition to the lord for us. We were doing our best. The problem of the succession was moving in the direction we expected. But if that record had not come into Lord Toda's hands, I think we would have had more victims among our confederates, and the conflict would have gone on for a while longer. The delivery of that record at that particular time was of invaluable help to us. I extend to you my appreciation on behalf of those who died for this cause, those who were imprisoned, and the many people who worked for us, all but sacrificing their own lives and living in concealment. Ichi . . . thank you."
Putting her hands on her knees, and bowing her head, Ichi received his words humbly. Shinzo stopped talking, took out a tissue paper, and wiped his eyes softly.
"I shan't talk to you about other minor things, or about my mother," he said then, "but I'm sure you know what I'm thinking. But just one thing, about Nobu . . ."
Shinzo suddenly shifted forward and took his wife's hands. Ichi felt giddy, and a strange feeling overcame her. She began to weep violently and laid her face on her husband's knees. The fact that she had lost her own child had struck her for the first time. Up to this moment she had unconsciously been avoiding thoughts of her child and had been constantly turning her mind to other things. But now that she had met the man to whom she could speak of her sorrow, now that she
could really share her grief, a wailing cry tore from her throat like a torrent breaking a dam.
The Flower Mat Page 12