The Scent of Sake (27 page)

for polishing with the wooden waterwheel. Then the rice was steamed in the huge black cauldron. Next, rice was inoculated with koji mold to produce sweet saccharified rice that would turn all the rice to sugar, while yeast was simultaneously introduced and the process of fermentation begun. The whole operation was the province of Toji and the kurabito.

Rie, forever outside the kura, relied on the sounds and smells as the brewing progressed. She heard the kurabito sing as they worked and knew when the fermentation began by the pungent yeasty smell of something growing that wafted from the kura through the courtyard and permeated the house. When the sake was filtered, Rie was next after Toji and Kinnosuke to judge the brew. Jihei did not always bother to be present.

With the brewing in full swing, White Tiger expanded production in the newly acquired fourth kura. Seisaburo, at age nine, was now an apprentice in the office under his elder brother’s and Kinnosuke’s supervision. Rie was gratified to see the brothers working together but at the same time distressed that Jihei was becoming increasingly ineffectual as head of the house. He seldom did anything on his own initiative. Planning and decision making were done by Rie and Kinnosuke with Yoshitaro, and, where the kura was concerned, by Toji. Jihei was usually absent during the days
and
evenings, which only relieved Rie. Old Kin came less often, but when he did he never failed to inquire about the sale of Shrine Water. On his latest visit he asked Kinnosuke about the sale of the Ozawa kura.

“We got seventy for it, Kin-san,” Kinnosuke told him. “We sold it to Sugiyama. They had a fire in their kura and would have had to stop. They were glad to get it. It enabled them to stay in production this year.”

“A good price, yes. Very good,” Kin said. “Oku-san must have been happy.” Only a few yellowed teeth showed when he grinned.

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“Yes, I was pleased,” Rie said and leaned toward him. “I can see your rheumatism is troubling you.” She glanced at the gnarled, swollen joints on his fingers. “But please come back whenever you feel well enough. It’s good for the boys to see you here. Sei was so young when his grandfather died. Your visits are important to us now.”

Kin slurped his tea appreciatively and smiled until his eyes vanished in slits. “I’m glad that Toji is still here,” he said in his faint, raspy voice. “Yes, I’ll come whenever the rheumatism isn’t too bad. Brewing is my life.” He looked down at his hands.

“As a matter of fact, there is something I wanted to discuss with you,” Rie said. “I need your wisdom and experience. You know how lax the authorities have become in enforcing the kabu license regulations.” She took out her comb and twirled it in her hands.

“Yes. There’s not much the commissioners can do here in Kansai any longer. The shoguns are on shaky ground now, no longer able to control anything, despite their efforts. The whole samurai class is indebted to the merchants. I just wonder what’s going to become of these Tokugawa shoguns.”

“Well, this is my point, Kin-san. They can’t enforce the regulations. They can’t dictate the amount we produce. I heard Kinno-san say something about buying or renting additional kabu so we could increase our production. You know he is negotiating to buy two more kura, the old Kuribayashi kura in Nishinomiya. That will put us closer to the Shrine Water. And we’ll need more kabu. What do you think? Do you see any risk in buying up more shares, a lot more?”

“I can’t foresee any risk. The commissioners can’t move against us.” He paused to sip his tea. “Yes, I know people have been buying and selling shares. Kinno-san mentioned it. He really is keeping on top of things, isn’t he?”

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Rie refilled his cup, and he warmed his hands on it.

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“We couldn’t have done better in our choice of your successor. Not that anyone could ever fill your place.” She looked at the old man’s lined, sunken face and felt a twinge of nostalgia.

“Well, I’ve seen you two working together and it’s often difficult to say which of you gets an idea first. You two are of the same mind.” He grinned toothlessly and chortled deep in his throat. “There’s not another pair like you in all Kobe. It’s something to watch. Of course you received the best training from your father.”

The compliment delighted her.

“Oh, I learned from you too, Kin-san, especially in those years when Father didn’t want me near the business.”

Kinnosuke walked in and joined them. “Kinno-san,” Rie said, smiling at him. He looked up and bowed briskly.

“How many more barrels are we using than last season?” “Ten more, with the new kura.”

“And each time we add a kura we’ll need that many more barrels?”

“Yes, that’s true,” he said, and nodded.

“Then shouldn’t we think about hiring a cooper and setting him up here instead of buying barrels from outside?” Rie asked as she pulled out her tortoiseshell comb and reinserted it.

“I can make inquiries. I know the Setookas. They might be receptive. They own an old cooperage, and have several sons, so they’ll need to send out the younger ones. We’ve always bought some barrels from them. Setooka comes by at this time of year when he thinks we may need some.”

“Good. See what you can do there. We need a cooper and an apprentice or two.”

Several months later a coopers’ shed was built next to the

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number three kura, and Masami Setooka’s son Goro and his younger brother Kasumi were installed as apprentice barrel makers. All the barrels used in White Tiger were now made on the premises, an economy in production costs.

Rie sat in the parlor one morning renewing a flower arrangement and replacing the rice and plum wine offerings on the family altar. The wooden shutters were open toward the courtyard, affording a view out toward the coopers’ shed. At one side of the entrance, wood for making barrels was stacked. At the other side of the door stood Goro, a boy with strikingly fine features. Rie recalled his father’s face, the way O-Toki had lingered before him at the end of season celebration years earlier. Not surprising that Goro had inherited a handsome face. But who was the girl talking with him so earnestly, her back toward the house? Rie watched until the girl turned to walk back toward the house. It was Teru, now fourteen and the most beautiful of the Omura daughters. She was smiling to herself as she approached the house, teapot in hand. She walked like a geisha, seductively.

Annoyed, Rie rose and slid open the door to the corridor just as Teru entered from the courtyard.

“Teru, please come in here. I need to talk to you.” Rie turned abruptly and walked back into the room. She sat before the Butsudan and indicated a zabuton for Teru.

“Teru, what were you doing over there at the cooper’s shed just now?”

“Oh, I was just taking them some tea. It was time for their morning tea.”

“And why did you think this was your job and not the kitchen maids’?”

“Oh . . .
uh
. . . they were busy, Mother.” Teru looked down and shifted uneasily on the zabuton.

“It wasn’t because you wanted to talk to Goro?” Rie persisted.

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Teru blushed. “
Uh . . .
well, he does seem nice.”

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“And what have I taught you about talking with the men, the workers, Teru?”

Teru was silent, her face red, her head still bowed. “I’m waiting, Teru.”

Teru spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. “That we shouldn’t.”

“Please remember that, Teru. I don’t want to have to speak to you again about it. And another thing: who taught you to walk like that?”

“Like what, Mother?” Teru looked up, frowning. “As if you wanted to attract some man’s attention.” “I’m just walking, the same as you and Kazu.”

“Not exactly the same. Remember to keep your toes pointed in and your knees slightly bent. You must be more circumspect. Remember who you are.” Rie paused. She noted O-Toki pausing several times in front of Masami at a ceremony and guessed that he, not Jihei, was Teru’s father.

“As an Omura daughter you will have a good marriage to another brewing house, but you must safeguard your virtue and the honor of the house. Talking carelessly with our workers can endanger our reputation. It is simply not acceptable behavior. I am sorry to have to remind you of this.”

Teru’s head was still bowed, and Rie saw that she was pouting. “You may be excused now. Go and finish your abacus lesson.” “Yes, Mother.” Teru rose and left the room quickly, without

bowing.

Rie sat with her thoughts. She hoped she was being fair with Teru, not venting her old anger about Jihei’s mistresses’ children. She sighed and had a flash of memory of her own mother and her feelings toward her. She hoped Kazu and Teru felt toward her as Fumi did. Strange, it did not seem like half a lifetime ago that she had sat in this same room with her mother. Teru’s

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beauty was a potential danger as well as an asset to the house. Was there a hint of insolence in her manner? She would bear watching now until her marriage could be arranged. And it must be arranged soon, perhaps as early as the next year, after Fumi and Kazu were married.

“Yoshi, you’re nineteen now,” Jihei said to his son one day as they worked in the inner office. Jihei looked around to make sure they were alone. “There are things you need to learn, things other than brewing. I want you to come with me this evening.”

Yoshitaro looked up. “Where are we going?” he asked. “Somewhere you’ve never been before. It will be a surprise, a

pleasant one. But you’re not to tell your mother. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“We won’t have dinner at home this evening. I’ll tell your mother that we’re going to a Bunraku performance, just you and

I. We’ll leave after dark.”

Jihei had spoken to O-Toki the previous week.

“Yoshi has had his nineteenth birthday. I want him to have his initiation here. Do you have a suitable geisha? Someone with real

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