The Flower Mat Page 8

  So far the house had looked like any ordinary house which had sheltered many generations. But as they went up the stairs, the building's appearance and decor became quite unfamiliar. The broad staircase had a red handrail which shone brightly in the dim light, and instead of climbing up straight it zigzagged in three flights. On the walls of the two landings were splendid woven hangings. The one on the lower landing depicted strange flowers, birds, plants, and trees, while the other showed a young man in armor standing among flowering trees and holding a naked woman with one hand and the bridle of a horse with the other. The hanging was dark and sooty in color, and only the woman's body with its full breasts and curving hips was white and vivid. She was resting one hand on the young man's shoulder and hiding her mouth with an air of embarrassment behind the other hand. Ichi felt a burning sensation in her cheeks and a quickening of her heartbeat as she looked at the bright flesh, and she turned her head away.

  At the top of the stairs they found themselves in a hallway containing at one end a solid-looking, sliding oak door; to its left was a high latticed window with an oiled-paper sliding sash, and to its right the wall, which looked like the back of a Buddhist altar at a temple.

  Mankichi announced them before the sliding door, then opened it quietly and motioned Ichi to enter. She hesitated for a moment. Everything was alien and ostentatiously heavy, and a feeling akin to uneasiness came over her, a kind of premonition that she should not enter. But the owner, Teijiro, came out at that moment and, averting his eyes, invited her to come in. Ichi entered the room, walking as if in a trance. She heard the heavy sound of the sliding door closing behind her.

  The walls of the room, which was about 2o-mats long, were covered with striped and printed chintz, and a bright red carpet covered the floor. Pots, vases, and bowls with unfamiliar shapes and decorative patterns stood in rows on the shelves of a large and sturdy chestnut cupboard, while from inside a few glass saké cups with long stems gleamed darkly. Foreign books with strange bindings and designs lined the two lower shelves of a five-shelf bookcase about twelve feet long. On top of the bookcase stood an unglazed, colored pottery doll. Every piece of furniture—the high desk surrounded by low, deep inclining chairs, the bronze desk lamp with its handle, three pictures hanging on the transom, the armchair at the north window— was an unusual piece of work unlike anything Ichi had ever seen.

  "Please sit down." Teijiro, his eyes still averted, offered her a chair and sat down himself. "Please feel at home. You needn't be reserved. . . . Please."

  "What did you want to see me about? Since I'm at work now ..."

  "In fact it has to do with your work . . ."he began. He scowled for a moment, then twisted his lips as if in pain. "Mankichi talked to me about it the other day, and I gave instructions that you should experiment a little. As for the new mat you're working on now, I saw the one you're weaving and the ones you spoiled and threw away. That's when I decided to have a talk with you. What is your plan?"

  "The patterns of the average mat use straight lines," Ichi began, "like squares sewn together, or swastikas. What's more, the flowers and leaves are crude and their colors are simple. I feel they lack variety, and I'd like to weave patterns with curved lines and complicated designs like flowers and birds, and to use more colors."

  "I hear you're using rushes for the vertical lines also."

  "Yes. I think I can weave vertical and horizontal patterns, like a crest pattern, a checkerboard, or a basket weave."

  "A mat," said Teijiro after a short pause, during which he crossed his long fingers, "is only a carpet, a luxury item. It will never become a work of art, no matter how exquisite you make it. But even if it is only a carpet, naturally it's better if it's beautiful rather than merely useful. You saw the Gobelin tapestry on the staircase, didn't you?"

  "Yes, I did." Ichi lowered her eyes. "It's the first time in my life I've seen such a thing, and I was astonished; it's so unusual and beautiful."

  "It came from Holland, and it's only a wall hanging. But don't you think there's a difference between the way of life which produces and uses such an object, and the way of life which doesn't? . . . There are many ways of life. It's not just a difference of race or country ; even here the style of living differs depending on wealth or poverty, circumstances, likes and dislikes. But it's true that our way of life is generally dark, modest, and lacking in variety. Don't you think so?"

  Teijiro spoke eagerly. His pale face was becoming pink, and his eyes brighter.

  "You must have found the style of this room eccentric," he continued. "Some objects have been handed down for generations in my family; others I took pains to buy. Some of them are even prohibited. Why did I collect these things, and why did I design such an eccentric interior? In a word, it's because I want to live a life of satisfaction. Man has five senses : sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell. How he satisfies these senses shows how he lives. And this satisfaction must be as beautiful, keen, sweet, and intoxicating as possible. If he leaves only one of the senses idle, he cannot be called alive. . . . Everyone must die someday. Even if a person builds a beautiful palace or amasses a fortune of millions or rises to a very honored position as minister or president, he will surely die someday, become a heap of bare bones, and decay under the tombstone. A thousand years from now everything will have disappeared. If this is so, a person must enjoy as much satisfaction as possible while still alive. He should not waste even a day or an hour; he should satisfy his five senses fully. Outside of this there is nothing of value. You can sacrifice everything to this goal. Everything!"

  Teijiro suddenly turned pale and pressed his hands to his contorted face, as if seized with a fit. Ichi's hands were perspiring. A shudder like the shudder of temptation or danger one experiences upon looking into a deep gorge from the top of a cliff ran through her body.

  Teijiro remained silent and motionless for some time. Finally he slowly took his hands away from his face and resumed speaking.

  "I think that if you're going to make the flower mat you're thinking about, you should change the atmosphere of your life. To go back to the wall hanging on the stairs—first came the way of life which impelled people to weave it, and then it was made. I think that in order to produce a certain object one needs a way of life conducive to its production. I intend to advise you about this. If you want to go through with it, I'll help you as much as I can."

  "Thank you very much," Ichi replied after a short silence. "But you don't know my personal history."

  "Yes, I know the general outline. I meant it when I said I'd help you. I think there are many things which will be of use to you. Also, I think you'd better move in and live here, if you can, so that you'll have time to work."

  Ichi involuntarily lowered her eyes, for the master's eyes looking at her that moment were very powerful, and again she felt a shudder beginning in her body. She told him that she would think it over and ask her mother-in-law, and left.

  She paused when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  They're my husband's eyes. The powerful eyes of Teijiro gazing at me just now with their strong light are exact copies of my husband's eyes which gazed at me in the moonlight that night when I went after him and we embraced by the fence.

  Now Ichi realized why she had mistaken Teijiro for her husband that rainy day.

  She was unable to suppress a groan.

  12

  ICHI DID not tell her mother-in-law or Tatsuya about the incident. To Teijiro she behaved as if her answer was that she was not giving him any answer, and she went back and forth as usual between her house and the shop. Teijiro must have guessed what she was thinking and did not press her for a reply or refer to the subject. His indirect, casual kindnesses to her increased, but since they were concealed and had to do with the work, no one except the two housewives noticed. Inevitably, however, the situation was becoming a burden on Ichi's feelings.

  The master was very solitary, sensitive, and, in a sense, weak; earlier in life he had bee
n hurt deeply. Ichi learned that he had a wife and child, but his wife had returned to her parents' house three years ago, and it was said that they hardly saw each other. Mankichi said vaguely that "they couldn't get along." What the facts were Ichi could not guess, but she felt very sorry for Teijiro.

  His solitary loneliness must have been the reason for his asking her to "move in here." She felt sorry for this unfortunate person, but on the other hand an instinctive feeling warned her to be careful with him because his passionate nature could not control the impulses of his sensitive, weak personality. Another factor was the strong temptation she experienced, a temptation as strong as her dislike of the way he had, there in the exotically decorated room, overwhelmed himself with his own cravings ; equally detestable were his search for a purely sensual satisfaction and his suffering because such satisfaction was beyond his reach. His secret kindnesses, added to these dual feelings of sympathy and caution, set Ichi's nerves on edge and stirred an uneasy, restless mood in her.

  She often thought about her husband's remark concerning every person's responsibility to defend society as well as himself and his family. He practiced exactly what he preached, she thought. It is certain that while a peaceful life is important, the responsibility of protecting this peace is incumbent upon everyone. Even if the Kugata family has fallen on hard times, the trouble will not have been in vain as long as it came about because they fulfilled their responsibility as human beings. I must believe in the rectitude of my husband's actions and protect my mother-in-law and Nobu without being distracted by nonessential things. Thoughts of this kind calmed her uneasiness.

  She tried to avoid Teijiro as much as possible. Yet at times the effect of her thoughts was just the opposite, and she was very strongly tempted by Teijiro's way of life.

  That man is not concerned with the public; he is not bound by the responsibility and duty of being a man. He thinks only about satisfying himself and living his life. He is afraid to die and is struggling to satisfy all his senses while he is alive. He says everyone must die and that good and evil, justice and injustice, truth and falsehood, one's failure or success in fulfilling one's obligations, all will have blown away like dust a thousand years from now. The one thing that's sure is that I am living right now. Isn't effort and suffering to satisfy oneself with supreme beauty and pleasure the true, human way to live?

  Even during this period of spiritual unrest her work progressed. By the beginning of summer she had finished two pieces of flower matting with which she was reasonably satisfied. She was quite confident about one in particular. The border was an arabesque pattern, and in the center she had splashed orchid flowers and leaves, using thirteen different colors. She was still unable to correct discrepancies in the lines·, and the mat was a bit too showy, but it was so beautiful that none of her productions could match it. One of the ill-natured housewives asked sarcastically whether she intended to make a formal kimono out of it. Old Mankichi was of course very happy for Ichi. It must have surpassed even Teijiro's expectations, for he mumbled, "It should be presented to the lord."

  Ichi wanted to show it to her mother-in-law and obtained permission to bring the mat home.

  "Oh, good! This is good!" Tatsuya peeped at it over Iso's shoulder and shook his head as if deeply impressed. "Well, well, that's something. Really fantastic!"

  "We can hardly tell whether you're praising it or not, Tatsuya." Iso burst into laughter. "Why is it so fantastic? It's very beautiful, isn't it?"

  "Nobody would believe it's only a carpet. Don't misunderstand me—of course I'm praising it, sister. There's no reason not to praise it. It's great."

  "But you sound as if you're belittling it." Laughing, Iso spread out the mat and picked up Nobu, who was lying beside it. "You should look at it too, Nobu. Your mother has made such a wonderful thing—a beautiful, wonderful flower mat which nobody ever made before. Your mother made that, Nobu. She's wonderful. Your mother is really wonderful."

  Ichi felt warmly and directly that her mother-in-law was very happy for her. Iso had detested Ichi's going to work and had even seemed to be ashamed of it. Now perhaps she could be freed of her narrow ideas, since beauty makes everything good.

  In any event, Ichi's work had been recognized and had impressed a few people. Nothing encourages a person and gives her greater power than this. Ichi passed that one night feeling cheerful, alive, and tense, and as if she wanted to thank everyone.

  When she arrived at the weaving shop the following day, she was summoned to the main house for her first visit since her earlier conversation with Teijiro. She had been careful to avoid him, yet at the same time she had been tempted to do the opposite. Now, however, she was strangely free of unrest and suspicion and felt calm, with the strength of a person who had found her path.

  Teijiro seemed to sense the difference in her attitude, and his treatment of her was visibly different. He praised her work on the flower mat and announced his intention to present it to Lord Toda. Then he told her that if she wanted any reference material for her work she would henceforth be allowed into this room at any time, that these objects were there for that purpose. He showed her many foreign books in the bookcase, beautiful fabrics, carpets with unusual and beautiful colors, and patterns stored in a cabinet.

  "Since flower mats originated in the Western countries," he said, "I think it's a good idea to get some hints from these things."

  Since his attitude was indicative of his hopes for this new work, Ichi was able to listen to him humbly, and she began to feel that she would happily accept his kind offer. Thinking that this was a good opportunity, she asked whether he would assign to her as an assistant the weaver Urne. Though Ume was only fifteen years old and did nothing but odd jobs, she was fond of Ichi, was witty, had a good memory, and was the kind of girl Ichi could depend on.

  "I think it's all right." Teijiro did not raise any objection. "You may do whatever you like. But don't you think a girl that young is of no use to you? I think you should use another girl with slightly better skills."

  "I think Ume's good for me after all. In many respects it's more important that she be young enough to do the job than that she be very skilled."

  "Then why don't we hire more girls in that age category? Well, don't bother about my ideas—you'd better talk with Mankichi. Do whatever you think is best."

  Ichi replied that she would work on it gradually and borrowed one of the reference books from the bookcase.

  "It's all right now," she mumbled to herself on her way back to the weaving room. She had now put a distance between herself and Teijiro. Her work had begun. Teijiro could not move from his position, but she would make progress rapidly. The relationship between them was now definitely settled. Everything was going to be better.

  It was a day of refreshing wind following the rainy season. Having decided to buy a toy for Nobu on her way home from the weaving shop, she went around to Karasue. At the corner of the street near the boat landing was a shop which sold odds and ends. Ichi went in and picked out a toy windmill with a wreath, a bisque creeping doll, and some needles and thread.

  As she left the shop, she found a samurai lady dressed in traveling clothes waiting for her. "Ichi!" the lady called.

  "Mother!" Ichi involuntarily cried out. She was about to run to the woman, when suddenly she became petrified.

  "Mother!"

  It was indeed her mother. Her eyes were wide open, her plump, round cheeks trembled, and her lips over the black-dyed teeth, the mark of the married woman, were open in a smile.

  It's my mother. Oh, I must run away. But before this idea had occurred to Ichi, her mother was already approaching her with outstretched arms.

  "Please don't run away, Ichi. I have something to tell you—something I must tell you—so please come with me, just over there."

  "I . . . please let me go, mother."

  "It won't take long. We'll finish quickly." Her mother was already holding Ichi's hand. "I shan't force you to come, but if you'll j
ust listen to me, everything will be all right."

  "Don't be frightened," said a voice behind her. She turned and saw Bennosuke, also in traveling clothes. "We'll let you go home soon."

  Ichi felt herself turning pale. Bennosuke had been doing the same work as Shinzo but had been under suspicion by their colleagues. I thought he was my ally, and I don't know what kind of suspicions there were, but the mere fact that he's right here and safe must be proof of something. And if he's here, I can't possibly run away.

  Ichi lowered her eyes and nodded. Her mother and Bennosuke, with Ichi between them, walked into a building which served as an agent's office, inn, and restaurant.

  13

  "THEN YOU had a baby." Her mother could hardly wait to sit down. She took the toy windmill and doll from Ichi's hand and looked at them, narrowing her eyes as if examining her grandchild. "It's already 300 days, I see . . . then she's crawling now. Do you have enough milk? . . . They say it's easier to raise a girl, but I guess the first one is really ..."

  While asking her all kinds of questions at once, the mother was studying her daughter's appearance: her hair style, her poor kimono and obi, her chapped fingers with their dye-stained tips. Ichi felt herself shrinking in fear from her mother's intense gaze, and she sat tensely with drooping head.

  Her mother told her that she and Bennosuke had come to make a pilgrimage to the Ise Shrine. Then she mentioned that she intended to go down to Kuwana on a night boat, but could stay here tonight if it was not too inconvenient, for she was longing to talk with her daughter after such a long time, but what did Ichi think? Only then did she begin to talk about the Kugatas.

  "I'm sure you know the things Shinzo did."

  "I don't know," Ichi answered without raising her head. "He told me nothing. Besides, I thought it wasn't something a woman should stick her nose into."