Arthur Golden - Memoirs of a Geisha

I was sitting with my hands in my lap, gazing down at the wooden platform and trying to seem demure. I had to respond in some way to what the Baron had said, particularly since everyone else was completely silent; but before I could think of what to say, Nobu did something very kind. He put his sake cup down onto the platform and stood up to excuse himself.

“I’m sorry, Baron, but I don’t know the way to the toilet,” he said. Of course, this was my cue to escort him.

I didn’t know the way to the toilet any better than Nobu; but I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to remove myself from the gathering. As I rose to my feet, a maid offered to show me the way, and led me around the pond, with Nobu following along behind.

In the house, we walked down a long hallway of blond wood with windows on one side. On the other side, brilliantly lit in the sunshine, stood display cases with glass tops. I was about to lead Nobu down to the end, but he stopped at a case containing a collection of antique swords. He seemed to be looking at the display, but mostly he drummed the fingers of his one hand on the glass and blew air out his nose again and again, for he was still very angry. I felt troubled by what had happened as well. But I was also grateful to him for rescuing me, and I wasn’t sure how to express this. At the next case-a display of tiny netsuke figures carved in ivory-I asked him if he liked antiques.

“Antiques like the Baron, you mean? Certainly not.”

The Baron wasn’t a particularly old man-much younger than Nobu, in fact. But I knew what he meant; he thought of the Baron as a relic of the feudal age.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, “I was thinking of the antiques here in the case.”

“When I look at the swords over there, they make me think of the Baron. When I look at the netsuke here, they make me think of the Baron. He’s been a supporter of our company, and I owe him a great debt. But I don’t like to waste my time thinking about him when I don’t have to. Does that answer your question?”

I bowed to him in reply, and he strode off down the hallway to the toilet, so quickly that I couldn’t reach the door first to open it for him.

Later, when we returned to the water’s edge, I was pleased to see that the party was beginning to break up. Only a few of the men would remain for dinner. Mameha and I ushered the others up the path to the main gate, where their drivers were waiting for them on the side street. We bowed farewell to the last man, and I turned to find one of the Baron’s servants ready to show us into the house.

Mameha and I spent the next hour in the servants’ quarters, eating a lovely dinner that included tai no usugiri -paper-thin slices of sea bream, fanned out on a leaf-shaped ceramic plate and served with ponzu sauce. I would certainly have enjoyed myself if Mameha hadn’t been so moody. She ate only a few bites of her sea bream and sat staring out the window at the dusk. Something about her expression made me think she would have liked to go back down to the pond and sit, biting her lip, perhaps, and peering in anger at the darkening sky.

We rejoined the Baron and his guests already partway through their dinner, in what the Baron called the “small banquet room.” Actually, the small banquet room could have accommodated probably twenty or twenty-five people; and now that the party had shrunk in size, only Mr. Arashino, Nobu, and Dr. Crab remained. When we entered, they were eating in complete silence. The Baron was so drunk his eyes seemed to slosh around in their sockets.

Just as Mameha was beginning a conversation, Dr. Crab stroked a napkin down his mustache twice and then excused himself to use the toilet. I led him to the same hallway Nobu and I had visited earlier. Now that evening had come, I could hardly see the objects because of overhead lights reflected in the glass of the display cases. But Dr. Crab stopped at the case containing the swords and moved his head around until he could see them.

“You certainly know your way around the Baron’s house,” he said.

“Oh, no, sir, I’m quite lost in such a grand place. The only reason I can find my way is because I led Nobu-san along this hallway earlier.”

“I’m sure he rushed right through,” the Doctor said. “A man like Nobu has a poor sensibility for appreciating the items in these cases.”

I didn’t know what to say to this, but the Doctor looked at me pointedly.

“You haven’t seen much of the world,” he went on, “but in time you’ll learn to be careful of anyone with the arrogance to accept an invitation from a man like the Baron, and then speak to him rudely in his own house, as Nobu did this afternoon.”

I bowed at this, and when it was clear that Dr. Crab had nothing further to say, led him down the hallway to the toilet.

By the time we returned to the small banquet room, the men had fallen into conversation, thanks to the quiet skills of Mameha, who now sat in the background pouring sake. She often said the role of a geisha was sometimes just to stir the soup. If you’ve ever noticed the way miso settles into a cloud at the bottom of the bowl but mixes quickly with a few whisks of the chopsticks, this is what she meant.

Soon the conversation turned to the subject of kimono, and we all proceeded downstairs to the Baron’s underground museum. Along the walls were huge panels that opened to reveal kimono suspended on sliding rods. The Baron sat on a stool in the middle of the room with his elbows on his knees-bleary-eyed still-and didn’t speak a word while Mameha guided us through the collection. The most spectacular robe, we all agreed, was one designed to mimic the landscape of the city of Kobe, which is located on the side of a steep hill falling away to the ocean. The design began at the shoulders with blue sky and clouds; the knees represented the hillside; below that, the gown swept back into a long train showing the blue-green of the sea dotted with beautiful gold waves and tiny ships.

“Mameha,” the Baron said, “I think you ought to wear that one to my blossom-viewing party in Hakone next week. That would be quite something, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d certainly like to,” Mameha replied. “But as I mentioned the other day, I’m afraid I won’t be able to attend the party this year.”

I could see that the Baron was displeased, for his eyebrows closed down like two windows being shut. “What do you mean? Who has booked an engagement with you that you can’t break?”

“I’d like nothing more than to be there, Baron. But just this one year, I’m afraid it won’t be possible. I have a medical appointment that conflicts with the party.”

“A medical appointment? What on earth does that mean? These doctors can change times around. Change it tomorrow, and be at my party next week just like you always are.”

“I do apologize,” Mameha said, “but with the Baron’s consent, I scheduled a medical appointment some weeks ago and won’t be able to change it.”

“I don’t recall giving you any consent! Anyway, it’s not as if you need to have an abortion, or some such thing…”

A long, embarrassed silence followed. Mameha only adjusted her sleeves while the rest of us stood so quietly that the only sound was Mr. Arashino’s wheezy breathing. I noticed that Nobu, who’d been paying no attention, turned to observe the Baron’s reaction.

“Well,” the Baron said at last. “I suppose I’d forgotten, now that you mention it… We certainly can’t have any little barons running around, now can we? But really, Mameha, I don’t see why you couldn’t have reminded me about this in private…”

“I am sorry, Baron.”

“Anyway, if you can’t come to Hakone, well, you can’t! But what about the rest of you? It’s a lovely party, at my estate in Hakone next weekend. You must all come! I do it every year at the height of the cherry blossoms.”