The Scent of Sake (41 page)

Rie wondered if Fumi resented anything given to Ume, but she had never favored Ume over Hiro and was trying to balance things in the family. “Yes, well, we are a larger house now, aren’t we, with two branch houses,” Rie said with a glance at Fumi’s face.

O-Natsu slid open the shoji. “The meal is ready, Oku-san,” she said, and quickly disappeared toward the kitchen.

The dining table was laden with special foods for the day, also called the Peach Festival. Girls’ Day was meant to signify happy marriage as well as to foster the feminine virtues. Sushi, pink and white mochi, and beautifully decorated candies adorned the table. Ume and Mie squealed in delight.

Following the luncheon, Rie drew the two small girls to her side and began to tell them folktales. She looked at her two granddaughters, both happy, bright children, but neither of whom figured prominently in her plans for the future of the main house.

Just then, Rie heard a firecracker go off somewhere in the distance and started. She had an uneasy feeling about the samurai unrest. She drew the children closer, forced a reassuring smile and said, “Now, where were we?”

One evening in 1863 the shoji to the office opened abruptly and Eitaro rushed in, panting.

“Eitaro, what brings you here?” Rie said before he could catch his breath.

“Samurai, Mother! They’re roaming the streets tonight!”

Rie jumped up. “Samurai? In the streets?” She gasped. She knew the shoguns, daimyo, and samurai were all indigent, unable to pay their debts, and that many ronin, masterless samurai, were on the loose, but this was the first time they had entered their neighborhood.

“Board up all the doors!” she ordered. “Everyone! Quickly!”

Eitaro, Kinnosuke, and three clerks ran to the doors of the kura, house, and office.

Rie turned to Eitaro. “Where’s Yoshi?”

Eitaro frowned. “He left earlier this evening. Shall I go after him?”

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“No, stay here. It’s too dangerous out there. Let’s hope he has the sense to return.”

As Kinnosuke slid the latch into place at the door near the number one kura, shouting erupted in the street outside. The sound of footsteps running toward the entrance mingled with cries and sounds of scuffling.

“It’s the samurai! They’re in our street!” Kinnosuke cried. A guttural voice roared “Rice! Give me rice!”

“Get out! We’re hardworking merchants!”

“That’s Yoshi’s voice! Open the door! Quickly!” Rie cried. Kinnosuke and Eitaro fumbled with the latch.

A shout, followed by a chilling scream, pierced the air as the door slid open. Yoshitaro lurched through the door and sprawled across the threshold, blood soaking through his kimono.

Rie took in the huge figure of a samurai that loomed at the door, disheveled matted hair and beard covering his face except for his wild bloodshot eyes. Torn dirty breeches and jacket half fell off as he raised his sword in both hands.

“Rice! Give me rice and gold!” he growled in a hoarse guttural grunt.

Rie stood in his path, her heart pounding. “Step back! You’ll get nothing until you sheath your sword,” she shouted.

He staggered and made two attempts to insert his sword in its scabbard before he succeeded.

“Kinno-san, bring a bag of rice!” she ordered. “Eitaro, help Yoshi and call Tama,” she shouted to a clerk.

Glancing down at the pool of blood spreading out from under Yoshitaro’s sleeve, Rie knelt quickly, undid her obi and opened Yoshitaro’s kimono. Blood oozed from a slash across his upper arm. She hurriedly tied her obi above the wound and yanked it tight until the bleeding stopped.

Tama came running through the corridor. She glanced at her husband, then at the samurai and screamed.

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“Bring some cloths,” Rie ordered, “and a pan of hot water, Tama.”

Kinnosuke dashed in with a bag of rice.

Rie stood. “Give it to him!” she said with a thrusting gesture. Kinnosuke nodded and heaved the heavy bag at the samurai, who staggered and fell backward to the ground. Kinnosuke and Eitaro quickly bolted the latch again and knelt to examine Yoshitaro. He was groaning, his eyes closed.

They heard the samurai’s slurred swearing and grunting as he lumbered off down the road.

“Yoshi has lost a lot of blood,” Eitaro said.

Rie leaned over. “We’ll send for the herbalist as soon as it’s safe for someone to go out,” she said.

Tama returned with a pan of hot water and cloths to bathe Yoshitaro’s wound.

“Oh, my leg,” he cried.

Tama and Eitaro turned him over. “His leg is bleeding,” she cried.

A deep wound gaped in the back of his thigh.

“Bind it quickly above the wound,” Rie said sharply. “Eitaro, help her tighten the binding.”

Eitaro pulled the cloth tight until Yoshitaro cried out in pain. Rie placed a hand on his chest and looked closely at his face while Tama cradled his head.

“The street is quiet now,” Kinnosuke said, blinking rapidly as he leaned over Yoshitaro. “I’ll go for the herbalist.”

Rie nodded. She turned and walked toward the office, a hand on Eitaro’s arm. “I suppose he was at the Sawaraya again. At a time like this! Is it going to kill him as it did his father?” she scolded.

“I don’t think his life is in danger, Mother. It is a bad wound, though, the leg wound.”

“These samurai parasites are completely lawless,” Rie said.

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“The shoguns can’t keep them under control, neither can the daimyo. We’ll have to keep a careful watch now. And we need to get together with our neighborhood association. Eitaro, you’d better get home and check on your family.”

Yoshitaro lay on his futon for several weeks, despondent and weakened by loss of blood. Tama remained at his side day and night, encouraging him to eat or to drink tea, and the Chinese herbalist came daily with poultices and potions.

“His arm is healing well, but his leg looks bad,” he told Tama in the corridor one day. “It is turning purple. I believe we will have to remove it to save his life.”

Tama’s hands flew to her face and she ran to Rie’s room. “Mother! Come! The herbalist says my husband may lose his

leg!” Tears streamed down her face.

Rie rose, took Tama’s arm, and propelled her firmly toward the ground-floor room Yoshitaro had taken over. “We’ll see,” she said.

The herbalist was still standing in the corridor clutching his herb pouch in both hands, looking anxious. “It’s true, I’m afraid, Oku-san.” He bowed. “It may be necessary, to save his life, and the sooner the better for him. It would be dangerous to leave him as he is.”

“Then go ahead, tomorrow if necessary.” Rie frowned. “We’ll come for him in the morning, then.”

“Eitaro and Kinnosuke will accompany him,” Rie said.

That evening Rie sat with Tama, who held five-year-old Ume in her arms.

Rie looked at the two. “Well, Tama, I guess this means there will be no more children from the Sawaraya. Yoshi will not be able to go around at night, or in the daytime either for that matter. The burden of work on Kinnosuke will be much heavier.” She sighed.

Tama looked down without speaking.

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Yoshitaro continued to languish in his old room on the ground floor. His spirits flagged. O-Sada ghosted through his dreams at night and even his daytime reveries. He despaired of ever seeing her again. Tama came in to sit with him at her needlework when she was not busy elsewhere.

“Try these prawns, your favorite,” Tama said one evening, holding the delicacy toward his mouth with chopsticks.

Yoshitaro shook his head and turned away.

“Tama, I know you have tried hard to rouse Yoshi from his lethargy,” Rie said one evening. “It’s such a worry. We miss him in the office. I wonder. . . .” Rie paused and looked at the comb she was revolving in her hand. “I think you should come into the office and work with me a bit each day while Yoshi is mending. We don’t know when he will be able to resume his work. You can begin to take some of the responsibility in the office. One day you and Yoshi will be responsible for everything.” Rie was confident in Tama’s ability and her eagerness to learn the business.

“I know.” Tama nodded.

“Beyond your usual responsibilities, Tama, I want you to become more familiar with the business side of things. Kinno and I can use some help, especially with Yoshi out of the office these past weeks.”

Tama nodded again. “I’ll do my best,” she said. Rie detected Tama’s interest. Good.

“Please make time to come to the office tomorrow, won’t you?” Rie replaced her comb.

Kinnosuke visited Yoshitaro in his room with business questions that required decisions but was unable to rouse him from his torpor. Kinnosuke found Rie in the office and spoke to her about it. “He shows no interest in anything, Oku-san. I know he has suffered a great shock and is not able to get around. But I fear what may happen if he doesn’t make some effort. And it’s his will he has lost, not his ability.”

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Rie nodded slowly. “I know, Kinno-san. You’re right. I’ve been considering just what to say.”

Moments later she rose and walked slowly to Yoshitaro’s room, her head bowed and a hand resting against her face. She slid open the shoji and looked toward the futon where Yoshitaro lay with his eyes closed. Glad that he was alone, she knelt beside the futon and placed her hand on his arm.

“Yoshi,” she said softly.

He opened his eyes and looked at her dully.

“Yoshi, you cannot continue this way. You are still head of the house,” she said quietly but firmly. “You must get up and perform your duties. The responsibility for the brewery and family rests with you. Tama and Ume are upset that you are lying here, not moving. We all are. Please sit up.”

She reached over and placed a backrest behind him.

Yoshitaro struggled to raise himself with his arms and leaned back.

“But how can I manage? How will I get around?”

Rie looked at his face, grown lean and pallid. “Kinno is having some crutches made for you,” she said. “He’ll bring them to you this afternoon. You need to practice on them. One of the clerks will help you. It may take time, but you’ll get used to them.”