Arthur Golden - Memoirs of a Geisha

“Why, no,” I said. “I don’t know why you say that. Nobu Toshikazu and the Chairman-Iwamura Ken, I mean… Chairman Iwamura-would appreciate your company greatly. It’s as simple as that.”

For a moment Pumpkin just knelt in silence, peering down at the mats. “I’ve stopped believing that anything in life is ‘as simple as that,’ ” she said at last. “I know you think I’m stupid-”

“Pumpkin!”

“-but I think you probably have some other reason you’re not going to tell me about.”

Pumpkin gave a little bow, which I thought very enigmatic. Either it was an apology for what she’d just said, or perhaps she was about to excuse herself.

“I suppose I do have another reason,” I said. “To tell the truth, I’d hoped that after all these years, perhaps you and I might be friends, as we once were. We’ve survived so many things together… including Hatsumomo! It seems only natural to me that we should see each other again.”

Pumpkin said nothing.

“Chairman Iwamura and Nobu will be entertaining the Minister again next Saturday at the Ichiriki Teahouse,” I told her. “If you’ll join us, I’d be very pleased to see you there.”

I’d brought her a packet of tea as a gift, and now I untied it from its silk cloth and placed it on the table. As I rose to my feet, I tried to think of something kind to tell her before leaving, but she looked so puzzled, I thought it best just to go.

In the five or so years since I’d last seen the Chairman, I’d read from time to time in the newspapers about the difficulties he’d suffered-not only his disagreements with the military government in the final years of the war, but his struggle since then to keep the Occupation authorities from seizing his company. It wouldn’t have surprised me if all these hardships had aged him a good deal. One photograph of him in the Yomiuri newspaper showed a strained look around his eyes from worry, like the neighbor of Mr. Arashino’s who used to squint up at the sky so often, watching for bombers. In any case, as the weekend neared I had to remind myself that Nobu hadn’t quite made up his mind that he would bring the Chairman. I could do nothing but hope.

On Saturday morning I awakened early and slid back the paper screen over my window to find a cold rain falling against the glass. In the little alleyway below, a young maid was just climbing to her feet again after slipping on the icy cobblestones. It was a drab, miserable day, and I was afraid even to read my almanac. By noon the temperature had dropped still further, and I could see my breath as I ate lunch in the reception room, with the sound of icy rain tapping against the window. Any number of parties that evening were canceled because the streets were too hazardous, and at nightfall Auntie telephoned the Ichiriki to be sure Iwamura Electric’s party was still on. The mistress told us the telephone lines to Osaka were down, and she couldn’t be sure. So I bathed and dressed, and walked over to the Ichiriki on the arm of Mr. Bekku, who wore a pair of rubber overshoes he’d borrowed from his younger brother, a dresser in the Pontocho district.

The Ichiriki was in chaos when I arrived. A water pipe had burst in the servants’ quarters, and the maids were so busy, I couldn’t get the attention of a single one. I showed myself down the hallway to the room where I’d entertained Nobu and the Minister the week before. I didn’t really expect anyone to be there, considering that both Nobu and the Chairman would probably be traveling all the way from Osaka-and even Mameha had been out of town and might very well have had trouble returning. Before sliding open the door, I knelt a moment with my eyes closed and one hand on my stomach to calm my nerves. All at once it occurred to me that the hallway was much too quiet. I couldn’t hear even a murmur from within the room. With a terrible feeling of disappointment I realized the room must be empty. I was about to stand and leave when I decided to slide open the door just in case; and when I did, there at the table, holding a magazine with both hands, sat the Chairman, looking at me over the top of his reading glasses. I was so startled to see him, I couldn’t even speak. Finally I managed to say:

“My goodness, Chairman! Who has left you here all by yourself? The mistress will be very upset.”

“She’s the one who left me,” he said, and slapped the magazine shut. “I’ve been wondering what happened to her.”

“You don’t even have a thing to drink. Let me bring you some sake.”

“That’s just what the mistress said. At this rate you’ll never come back, and I’ll have to go on reading this magazine all night. I’d much rather have your company.” And here he removed his reading glasses, and while stowing them in his pocket, took a long look at me through narrowed eyes.

The spacious room with its pale yellow walls of silk began to seem very small to me as I rose to join the Chairman, for I don’t think any room would have been enough to contain all that I was feeling. To see him again after so long awakened something desperate inside me. I was surprised to find myself feeling sad, rather than joyful, as I would have imagined. At times I’d worried that the Chairman might have fallen headlong into old age during the war just as Auntie had done. Even from across the room, I’d noticed that the corners of his eyes were creased more sharply than I remembered them. The skin around his mouth, too, had begun to sag, though it seemed to me to give his strong jaw a kind of dignity. I stole a glimpse of him as I knelt at the table, and found that he was still watching me without expression. I was about to start a conversation, but the Chairman spoke first.

“You are still a lovely woman, Sayuri.”

“Why, Chairman,” I said, “I’ll never believe another word you say. I had to spend a half hour at my makeup stand this evening to hide the sunken look of my cheeks.”

“I’m sure you’ve suffered worse hardships during the past several years than losing a bit of weight. I know I certainly have.”

“Chairman, if you don’t mind my saying it… I’ve heard a little bit from Nobu-san about the difficulties your company is facing-”

“Yes, well, we needn’t talk about that. Sometimes we get through adversity only by imagining what the world might be like if our dreams should ever come true.”

He gave me a sad smile that I found so beautiful, I lost myself staring at the perfect crescent of his lips.

“Here’s a chance for you to use your charm and change the subject,” he said.

I hadn’t even begun to reply before the door slid open and Mameha entered, with Pumpkin right behind her. I was surprised to see Pumpkin; I hadn’t expected she would come. As for Mameha, she’d evidently just returned from Nagoya and had rushed to the Ichiriki thinking she was terribly late. The first thing she asked-after greeting the Chairman and thanking him for something he’d done for her the week before-was why Nobu and the Minister weren’t present. The Chairman admitted he’d been wondering the same thing.

“What a peculiar day this has been,” Mameha said, talking almost to herself, it seemed. “The train sat just outside Kyoto Station for an hour, and we couldn’t get off. Two young men finally jumped out through the window. I think one of them may have hurt himself. And then when I finally reached the Ichiriki a moment ago, there didn’t seem to be anyone here. Poor Pumpkin was wandering the hallways lost! You’ve met Pumpkin, haven’t you, Chairman?”

I hadn’t really looked closely at Pumpkin until now, but she was wearing an extraordinary ash-gray kimono, which was spotted below the waist with brilliant gold dots that turned out to be embroidered fireflies, set against an image of mountains and water in the light of the moon. Neither mine nor Mameha’s could compare with it. The Chairman seemed to find the robe as startling as I did, because he asked her to stand and model it for him. She stood very modestly and turned around once.