The Samurai's Garden (11 page)

****

From her seat in her rickshaw, the Widow Nakamura watched her sons as they learned and practiced their drills. She was proud of the village men for taking the incentive to guard their homes from the rebel soldiers. Even after a handful of training sessions, she could see a change in the physical strength as well as the mindset of the townspeople. There was a sprig of hope in the air.

A few other women watched, but they kept themselves apart from the widow. She was accustomed to the isolation. It wasn't that the other women disliked her, but her status as the widow of a wealthy landowner and government official set her apart. When passing, the townspeople stopped and bowed, but said nothing unless asked. They were not in her social class.

So the widow watched alone. She loved her family, but yearned for friends like those she'd had in the city. Her brother, a physician, had recently retired from his practice and lived nearby, but there was no companionship for her.

Though her eyes were focused on her sons, her senses were always aware of another person. Tanaka-san's assistant reminded her so much of the man who had once been the center of her world. Her marriage to Fujii Nakamura had been a love match, and he had been a good provider. Together, they had produced four strong sons to carry on the family name and lands. Fujii had always treated her with kindness and respect. He had been small but wiry, and stronger than one would expect of a man of his stature.

When a farming accident had claimed Fujii's life, Reiko had wanted to throw herself into the funeral pyre. The knowledge that her sons, then ranging in age from three to twenty, still needed her had prevented her from doing so. Since then, she had built a comfortable life for herself, thanks to the excellent managerial skills of her eldest son. Even now, Noburo tried to shelter her from the hardest tasks and decisions, though she had her ways of learning what went on.

Her sons would eventually move on. As the eldest, Noburo and his family would stay, of course, and there was enough room on the estate for any or all of her sons to share in the work and profits of this farm should they choose to do so. She would enjoy seeing them marry and begin their families. More grandchildren would be welcome, and it would be nice to have some young female companionship.

But the former samurai, even in his awkward state on Hanako's floor, had touched a long forgotten chord. Was it because his build was similar to Fujii's? Was it because she missed the companionship? Or was it the way those deep brown eyes had looked into her soul?

It would do her no good to dream. She was a mature woman, not a starry-eyed maiden. She had no business yearning for a younger man. Sighing, she signaled to her servant to take her home.

****

The morning after experiencing blissful warmth in Hiro's arms, Hanako woke to find him gone. Ginjiro arrived for breakfast, but did not share any information about his friend's whereabouts. It was nearly midday before Hiro returned to the farm. He wordlessly joined Ginjiro in the field. At the evening meal, he still had nothing to say about his absence. Hanako wondered if Hiro had been repulsed by the closeness they had shared the night before, but his cool demeanor kept her from asking.

The coldness continued for weeks, and Hiro's disappearances occurred again and again. Sometimes, he would be gone for several hours; other times days would pass before she would see him. If it hadn't been for Ginjiro's continued presence, she would have been frantic with worry. While Hiro was gone, Ginjiro and the Nakamuras would lead the drill group. Hanako noticed their numbers had dwindled, but the remaining core of would-be soldiers stayed committed.

The men had decided to hold their drills in a different location each night to avoid attracting the attention of unwelcome strangers. This decision resulted in a larger number of trainees, though attendance at each session varied. She resolved to attend as many sessions as possible, determined to defend her land if necessary.

During one of Hiro's unexplained absences, Hanako noticed a stranger standing silently at the edge of the field. The last time strangers came, Hiro and Ginjiro had fought them off. But this man looked more dangerous than the two ruffians who had attempted to abduct her. She looked around for Ginjiro, wondering how she could signal a warning to him. Her hands trembled as she attempted to appear unconcerned, continuing to tend to the radishes, but her eyes were not focused on her work. Faster and faster, she moved toward the end of the row away from the stranger. Quick, furtive glances assured her that the man had not moved from the edge of the field. Finally, she spotted Ginjiro, working in the next field with the ox and the ancient plow. She gave up all pretense of calm and raced to him. He looked up in surprise as she approached him.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

Hanako struggled to catch her breath as she gasped out a description of the man at the roadside. Ginjiro's expression tightened, and he checked for his sword before heading to where she had seen him. He trod slowly, looking around for signs of other intruders, until he spied the newcomer. Then his face broke into a wide grin, and he re-sheathed his sword before running to greet the man.

Hanako breathed a sigh of relief. If Ginjiro knew this person, he was probably not a threat to her. But why would an acquaintance of his travel here? Perhaps he was a relative.

Ginjiro brought the silent man to her and introduced him as a former comrade. He had answered a request to come and help the town defend against the
ronin
. The newcomer was immediately invited inside for tea. Since the new house had a larger kitchen and dining area, Hanako usually prepared and served meals there. She got out her fine china cups and special tea. As she worked, she caught snippets of their conversation.

The newcomer, Watanabe-san, was younger than Hiro and Ginjiro. Like Hiro, he walked with a proud, erect posture that bespoke a life of privilege and importance. She suspected that he, too, came from a long line of samurai. She wondered what business he had with Hiro.

Hanako strained to hear the men's conversation as she prepared the tea and a light snack. Ginjiro's voice carried more clearly, and she could make out his words. Being a lower-level samurai, he was respectful as he spoke to the younger man.

"Watanabe-san, we are honored you came here to assist us. The
ronin
have caused much damage here and in other nearby towns in the last year."

"Yes, Tanaka-san told me about their evil deeds," the newcomer replied. "It is a shame that some of our kind have chosen to use their skills in dishonorable ways. It was an honor for Tanaka-san to invite me, and I was intrigued by his offer of payment."

Payment? Hiro was paying men to help fight the
ronin
?
Hanako nearly dropped the teapot.

"I have never owned property, and since I am a younger brother, I will not inherit my family's estate. My older brother would provide for me, of course, but a chance to have my own land was an enticement for me."

Hanako brought the tea in to the men, bowed, and left to complete dinner preparations. But she left the sliding
shoji
screen open just enough so she could hear more of their conversation.

So Hiro has promised land in exchange for fighting power
.
Such a brilliant idea. But is he purchasing this land to give to them?

"I have spoken to Fukazawa-san and Kobayashi-san, and they should arrive within the week," the newcomer continued.

The rest of the conversation was lost to her.
There are more men coming! He is recruiting an army! The village will be protected!
She let the rest of the conversation flow as she prepared the finest meal she could provide. As she chopped and stirred, she thanked the gods for her short time spent as a kitchen maid in the house of a fine gentleman. She had watched as the cook transformed piles of meat and vegetables into creations she could appreciate through her sense of smell. It was only after the gentleman and his family ate, and then the higher servants, that she was allowed the scraps that remained. But the experience had given her an appreciation for the crops she grew and the knowledge of how to serve them.

"Hanako-san."

She nearly dropped the long wooden chopsticks she used to stir her concoction. "Nakamura-san, forgive me," she cried, quickly turning to bow to her esteemed neighbor.

"Please do not stop your work. I was passing by on the way to the village, and the wonderful aroma from your new home enticed me to investigate."

"Thank you. But — this is actually Hiro's home," she began.

"And you are merely a servant? No, this will be your home soon, when you and Hiro marry. And then you will have servants to prepare your food."

"Servants? No, I—" She paused in her denial, realizing that Hiro, as the head of the household, would undoubtedly hire servants to take care of the housework. The idea was unsettling. After working hard all her life, how could she sit back and let people work for her?

"Have I disturbed you, Hanako-san?"

"Oh! Of course not. Would you like some tea?"

"You are kind to offer, but my son is outside fixing a broken wheel on our wagon. I must be ready to go when he is. But I wanted to let you know — I have heard about the extra samurai Tanaka-san has recruited. You should not have to feed all these hungry men alone. Please allow me to assist you. Since you already have tonight's meal started, I will send food over for tomorrow."

Hanako stared in amazement at the woman's offer. It had never occurred to her to ask for help. "I — I am humbled by your generosity, Nakamura-san," she finally managed.

The older woman smiled. "You are so accustomed to doing everything alone. But these men are helping the entire village and surrounding areas. It is only right we should all help to feed them."

Hanako again stammered her thanks. "But how did you hear about the new soldiers? Watanabe-san arrived only today."

"Tanaka-san is a celebrity in the village. When his friend arrived, asking where to find him, word immediately spread. My sons learned that others are coming. When they arrive, we will all be honored to help feed and house them."

Noburo Nakamura appeared at the doorway. He bowed a greeting to Hanako and then to his mother. "
Okaasan
, the wagon is repaired enough for us to return home. I am sorry to make you wait."

"It is no trouble, Nobu-chan," the widow replied. "I rather enjoyed this opportunity to visit with our neighbor." Turning to Hanako, she repeated her promise to send food the next day, and left.

Hanako returned to her cooking, but as she worked, she marveled at this unfamiliar feeling of contentment. It wasn't from the fact that she wasn't hungry or excessively tired. It wasn't from the fact that she felt safe with three former samurai in her home. It came from her connection with another human being, another woman, who expressed care for her well-being and was willing to help. This must be what people referred to as friendship.

She decided she liked having a friend.