The Flower Mat Page 3

  Her husband slept in the next room, which was separated from hers by a sliding door. She would feel relieved if she could hear him sleeping or breathing, but he always slept peacefully, in a way that would have impressed even Iso, and he slept so quietly that it sometimes made her wonder whether he was awake. She suppressed her desire to see him, thinking that it was simply too indecent, but one night she couldn't suppress it any longer.

  She got up and opened the door quietly. A light from the floor lamp, which had been dimmed, was shining softly on Shinzo, sleeping on his back with the bed cover pulled up to his chin. His long, tight face with clearly marked eyebrows made people feel his strong, almost cold will, but when he was sleeping his lips became tender, and a soft warmth appeared on his long-lashed eyes and on his cheeks, a warmth which tempted her to go close to him.

  Ichi felt a strong thirst in her throat, a kind of burning, irritated feeling, and an aching itch in her body. But suddenly and without any apparent reason, a terrible suspicion seized her, a feeling that her husband was not interested in her and that he would someday go away. She shook her head, saying to herself that this was impossible, but thoughts shook her mind like the shout of someone she could not see.

  What kind of a person are you for this man ? Does being a husband, or being a wife, really link the destiny of two people so tightly? What does it really mean, being husband and wife? What am I worth to my husband? Have I really been loved by my husband?

  Ichi began to tremble. A man named Shinzo Kugata existed far, far from her ; they were united only by a frail bond which could easily snap. Her husband had never loved her, and would never love her, and he must go away somewhere, leaving her behind. . . .

  Her growing sadness caused Ichi to sob. Sitting on the floor and pressing both hands to her eyes, she cried with abandon. Shinzo heard her and turned to her. He did not speak at once, but watched in puzzlement. Then he asked in a gentle voice, "What are you doing here at this time of night?"

  "Oh!" Ichi almost leaped to her feet.

  Shinzo halfway rose from the bed and asked, "Ichi! What's happened? Are you ill?"

  "No, no." She shook her head and tried to stand, moving backward. The thing which had filled her mind was now flowing out like a torrent. She fell forward on her face, wracked with sobs, caring nothing about her embarrassing position. "It's nothing," she cried.

  Shinzo watched intently. The fresh curves of his wife's young body gave her a coquettish beauty in the dim light, a beauty filled with the life, power, and pride of a woman who had finished the ceremonial tying of the maternity obi at the beginning of the fifth month of pregnancy.

  "You'll get cold if you stay there," said Shinzo, as if admonishing a child. "Come in here, I'll warm you." He turned back the corner of the bed cover.

  "I shouldn't get in," she thought, "it's really too indecent." But despite her thoughts, Ichi's body was already sliding in next to her husband's.

  How thankful she was later that she had had the power in her body to do this at the time ! She had been able to experience a feeling which hitherto had not been fully awakened in her. It overwhelmed her with a powerful ecstasy, with convulsions not unlike those which accompany death, and it penetrated to the very depths of her body and mind. This sensation was so overwhelming that her whole mental outlook changed. A great surge of self-confidence, pleasure, and pride swept over her—pride in being Shinzo's wife.

  Her habit of waking up at midnight, however, lasted for some time. Usually she waited a time for sleep to return, but whenever it seemed hopeless, she went to Shinzo for help. Her husband would smile at her as though dandling her like a baby, and would quietly make a place for her in his bed. Ichi would modestly slide in and lie close to him. Her husband's body heat and his rather strong body odor would encompass her so tightly that it was rather oppressive. She would be entranced with a feeling of great relief and incomparable happiness, and would close her eyes and sigh. Overcome by such sweetness and ecstasy, Ichi sometimes cried, pushing her head against her husband's chest.

  "It's nothing," she said, seeking the hand of her wondering husband and still hiding her face. "There's nothing sad. I'm so happy. I'm so happy that it almost makes me sad, and tears come. Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

  "Your health isn't normal," her husband said, stroking her back soothingly. "Did you feel something like that when you came here and cried the other night?"

  "That was different. I don't know why, but that night I could think only sad things, and I couldn't do anything except cry."

  "What sad things?"

  "That you don't love me, that you will leave me someday. . . . When I think of it now, I wonder how I could even think such things." Ichi trembled. "I don't even want to remember it. I'm sure something was wrong with me."

  Shinzo said nothing. He seemed on the verge of speaking, but suddenly knit his brows, and his lips twitched. He looked vaguely off into space and continued stroking his wife's back. Whenever he did this, Ichi's nerves would gradually calm down and she sometimes fell asleep.

  "Well, go back to your bed and sleep," her husband told her softly. "I'm sure you can. Sleep well."

  When the rainy season began, her eye condition almost cleared up. Since this had been a year of little rain, it had seemed there would be no rainy season at all, and the drought (which the old men said was the worst in more than ten years) continued. However, there were generous springs everywhere in the region, and there was little possibility of a crop failure in the event of a long drought. On the contrary, since there was danger of flooding if it rained too much, people were usually pleased by a dry rainy season.

  About this time her husband and Kyunosuke seemed to become very busy. They would often go out after dinner and would come back from the castle at odd hours and sometimes not until the following day, explaining that they had been "on night duty." More unfamiliar guests began coming to the house.

  Despite these occurrences, Tatsuya was as composed as ever. Because of his obesity he had a difficult time in the heat. He was never seen doing anything but noisily using his fan and, with a folded towel in his hand, constantly wiping off perspiration. Yet he would never try to forget about the heat by engaging in some activity or by looking for a shady place or a breeze. Even when the sun reached the place where he sat, he would never move to another place. He would gaze at the moving sun and continue gazing at it until it reached a part of his body, his legs, a shoulder, or his navel. Then he would sigh, move back a bit, and twirl the fan noisily, wiping off sweat with his other hand.

  When Kyunosuke peeped into his room one day, Tatsuya was sitting with his back against the wall. The perspiration was rolling in beads down his red face. The sun was shining on him from his chest down, and he looked like a broiled lobster.

  When Kyunosuke asked, "What are you doing in such a sunny place?" Tatsuya replied that he had been able to escape the sun so far, but "back of me is a wall. . . ."

  "You shouldn't sit still like that, you should do something," Kyunosuke said, staring at his brother. "You'd better move around a bit. If you do something, you'll be able to forget about the heat."

  "I think so too." Tatsuya displayed the fan and the towel he was holding to his younger brother. "But I have to fan with one hand and wipe sweat off with the other—so both my hands are occupied. I simply can't do anything else."

  4

  FOR A LONG time now there had been silence between the Okumura and Kugata households. Until the spring, some kind of visit or inquiry had passed between the two families about once every ten days, but since Ichi's visit home that day, communication had brokenoff. However, Ichi's mother still sent a messenger once in a while to inquire after her health and sent letters saying that she wanted Ichi to come to see her if she had time. However, Ichi's mind was still disturbed by Bennosuke's words, and she did not feel like visiting her mother. It seemed impossible that she should have become estranged from her parents like that. If she waited for a time and found
that nothing had actually happened, she would easily be able to communicate with them again.

  Around the middle of June, while she was thinking along these lines, a letter came from her father, addressed to Shinzo.

  Ichi's time is approaching, and I am happy to know that she is doing well. But since she is our only daughter, and since in addition it is her first child, we would like her to give birth at our house, if it is possible. There are many such cases, but in this case, since my wife and I (and particularly my wife) greatly desire it, I should appreciate your granting our request, selfish though it may be. Depending on your answer, we are ready to send someone to fetch her when it is convenient for you.

  "My mother has no objections, but what do you think?" Shinzo asked, after he had let Ichi read the letter. "We should forget now about your hesitation and reserve. I want to know what you really want."

  It was teatime, after supper, and Kyunosuke, Tatsuya, and Iso were also there. Ichi indicated that she wanted to think about it for a while, but soon answered firmly that she wanted to give birth in her husband's house and that she was not going back to her parents'. The truth was that she would have felt safer and more relaxed at her parents' house. As a girl she had often heard people say that "so-and-so is now at her parents' house to give birth," and there must have been a good reason for it. But again Ichi remembered Bennosuke's words and could not bring herself to say that she would go home.

  "But don't you think your parents would feel bad, since they want you to go home?" Iso asked, as if she had not expected this answer from Ichi. "In any event, it's your first childbirth. I think you'll feel more secure when the time comes if you're with your parents."

  "I don't think so," Kyunosuke said as if angry. "Since mother has had experience giving birth to and raising three children, and since we have enough servants, I don't think we should bother the Okumuras. I think that what Ichi said is right."

  "That may be true, but you really feel helpless with the first childbirth, though Kyunosuke may not be able to understand this since he's a man."

  "Anyway, think it over for a while and let me have your answer later," Shinzo told Ichi. "It's not something you should decide in a hurry, and it won't be too late after you've thought it over well. . . . No, Kyunosuke, that's all right," Shinzo added. "I know exactly what your opinion is."

  Kyunosuke had been about to say something and seemed unhappy at being cut off. Only Tatsuya had been silent from the beginning, absorbed as usual in using his fan and wiping perspiration. When they had finished talking, however, he said something strange.

  "I've heard they wrap hemp around a dog's belly, and then it can give birth to its young rather easily."

  "Around a dog's belly?" Iso asked him, shocked. "Sometimes you say things we can't understand, Tatsuya. ..."

  "Since I heard it from someone, I don't know whether it's true or not. It's probably a superstition, but I heard that everyone does it."

  "From whom did you hear this?" Iso asked.

  "You know the old man named Josuke—the one who brings vegetables to the kitchen? . . . From that old farmer." Tatsuya blinked his puffy, drooping eyes. "And I also heard that Josuke's wife is very good at delivering babies. They say there will never be a mistake if his wife is asked to attend any dangerous childbirth."

  Iso's eyes widened. "Why did you get into such a conversation? Isn't that old man a queer person to have told you such a thing!"

  "Oh no, that old man and Tatsuya talk about anything," Kyunosuke said, coming to his brother's rescue. "When I was listening to him the other day, he was so proud of having made an eggplant bear 416 fruits. He was saying something about fertilizer, wasn't he, Tatsuya? Hasn't he been coming here for a long time?"

  "Well, another old man named Heishichi had been coming here until year before last. Since Josuke is the successor to that man, it's been almost two years."

  "Anyway, he's able to get along with Tatsuya. He chats for long hours, unaware that the greens he's brought are withering. You know, the other day ..."

  Ichi, thinking over Tatsuya's words, was moved. When she had heard about wrapping hemp around a dog's belly, she had almost laughed. But in his own way Tatsuya was showing concern about her.

  Ichi also knew that the farmer would chat for long hours with Tatsuya whenever he came. He was a short, small old man with a flabby body, looking more like a retired townsman than a farmer. His clothes were neat, and the strings of his sedge hat were always white as though freshly washed. The farmer would sit on the stump of a paulownia beside the hut in which the firewood was stored, take out a tobacco case, old and worn and made of India leather, and talk and smoke simultaneously. His topics of conversation were never the same. He could be said to have a simple, honest personality. He always put the year, month, and date at the beginning of his conversation: "Since it was the Year of the Tiger, it must have been such-and-such year, such-and-such month, such-and-such day." That was his way of talking, and Tatsuya would listen with enjoyment from his room, leaning over the window or sitting on the window sill.

  The Kugata family had always made it a practice to talk to everyone as equals, and when Ichi listened to the conversations between Tatsuya and Josuke, they sounded like conversations between friends. Now she could imagine them talking about a charm for easy delivery.

  A few days later Ichi again told the family that she was not going back to her parents' house, and the Okumuras were informed through Shinzo. The wife of Chusai Yonezawa, a family doctor of the clan, was skilled at examining pregnant women, and Ichi had therefore been consulting her from the beginning of her pregnancy. Each time she was examined, the foetus had grown so well that the doctor's wife was satisfied, and Ichi was told that she was doing very well. She had been performing exorcisms on tabu days and trying to observe the prohibitions and warnings about foods, ways of sleeping, and compass directions. After she had definitely decided not to go back to her parents' house, she became more cautious and tried to avoid everything that pregnant women were said to detest, even though such sayings were probably only superstitions.

  After the letter of refusal had been sent to the Okumuras, Ichi's mother sent her a letter together with an amulet to ensure an easy delivery.

  I don't think it will happen, but if the baby refuses to come out at the time of delivery, you should write down the word "ISE" with India ink on white paper, and swallow the paper. The word "ISE" consists of the characters which mean "this is one who has power to be born," and it has long been said that to swallow it draws the grace of the gods remarkably well.

  The letter also contained a kaiba (a dried sea fish resembling a dragon) and a cowrie shell, the name of which, koyasugai, means "safe delivery."

  Since her husband was again late in returning from the castle, Ichi brought the objects to the living room after supper and showed them to him.

  "Giving birth to a child is really something." Shinzo forced a smile. "This one is called kaiba, isn't it? What is this shell called?"

  "They say it's a cowrie—koyasugai."

  "Hmm . . . koy asugai. The very name makes it a talisman. How are you going to use these two objects?"

  "I will hold them in my hands . . ." But at that instant she was interrupted by the sound of someone walking in the garden, and she turned towards the window. Shinzo also turned.

  "I am Gorobe Toda." A voice came through the straw screen hanging down over the veranda. He had evidently come in the back door and, seeing the light, had headed for the living room.

  Shinzo stood up, exclaiming, and went out to the veranda.

  "You're Toda from the Edo mansion, aren't you?"

  "Yes, I am. I know it's impolite to call on you through the back door, but I have to hide from prying eyes. You don't mind?"

  "No, not at all. Please come in."

  "My feet are dirty. Where is the well?"

  "No, we'll get water for you. Please come in just as you are."

  Ichi, who had been listening to the whispered c
onversation, stood up to fetch water to wash the guest's feet. Her dark, uneasy feeling returned with this new development.

  I should not ask the servant to do this, she thought.

  She carried in the water and the basin for the guest to wash his feet. He was sitting in a corner of the veranda and was removing his straw sandals. The two men had been talking, and they suddenly fell silent when Ichi walked in. She left immediately. But Shinzo followed, and whispered, "I'll tell everybody about this later on, but don't tell them anything now. Just bring a change of clothes, and tea."

  She brought in the things requested and glanced at the guest, who was a slender man of medium height, about thirty-three years old. She noticed that one of his front teeth was broken and that wrapped around his left arm was a cotton rag through which blood had oozed, probably from a wound.

  "Shall I bring some medicine?" Ichi asked her husband.

  Shinzo gestured no. "Tell Kyunosuke to come in here when he returns," he whispered. "You don't have to come until I call you."

  Ichi, nervous now, returned to Iso's side and opened up the baby's cloth which she had begun to sew. But her nervousness increased, and soon she was unable to remain seated any longer.

  "May I make tea?"

  "All right." Iso, seated at her desk, was reading. She looked at Ichi through her glasses and yawned slightly. "Are there any cakes left?"

  "I think we have only black candies."

  "What is Shinzo doing now?"

  "It looks as if he's checking into something."

  5

  WHILE she was preparing tea, Ta-tsuya came in, as was usual. Whenever she started to prepare tea Tatsuya would show up without fail, even when he had been in the garden. Ichi remembered a story which her nurse had told her when she was small about an old man who had a nose for good smells. Tatsuya reminded her of the story, and she smiled. The other members of the family saw nothing peculiar in his behavior. That they protected and treated each other kindly was another revelation of the family character. No one in the Kugata family was ever laughed at or scolded or accused. Almost everything would be passed over with suya came in, as was usual. Whenever she started to prepare tea Tatsuya would show up without fail, even when he had been in the garden. Ichi remembered a story which her nurse had told her when she was small about an old man who had a nose for good smells. Tatsuya reminded her of the story, and she smiled. The other members of the family saw nothing peculiar in his behavior. That they protected and treated each other kindly was another revelation of the family character. No one in the Kugata family was ever laughed at or scolded or accused. Almost everything would be passed over withthe words "He's all right as he is." Protection and sympathy toward each other were at the root of their attitude.