The Scent of Sake (22 page)

Eighteen thirty-seven was an eventful year in the Omura household. Rie had her second child, a son whom she named Seisaburo. A son to be sure, but he evoked mixed feelings in Rie, feelings she could not share with her father. He was of Ji-hei’s seed, not Saburo’s. For her, Jihei’s shadow loomed over the child. Rie was relieved to see none of Jihei’s features visible on Seisaburo’s face. For that she was most grateful. But she felt none of the sense of fulfillment she had felt with Fumi’s birth. Her chief regret remained that Fumi had not been firstborn, before O-Toki’s son, or that her initial pregnancy had failed. Seisaburo, already a year old, showed early signs of being precocious, Rie had to admit. Yoshi was now nine, Fumi was already six, Kazu five, and Teru four. The girls were having their lessons separately from Yoshitaro.

Yoshitaro’s succession, though not imminent, still rankled, a festering sore that would never heal. Her father was of course pleased to have a grandson born of Rie. Even Jihei was pleased.

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Kinzaemon spent a great deal of time with his grandchildren, and in turn they provided him comfort in his old age. Although he was affectionate with all of them, Rie sometimes thought she saw her father display a special feeling toward her own children.

One afternoon Rie sat with her father after lunch. Jihei and several of the children were present as well.

“He seems a fine, healthy boy, Rie,” her father said, holding Seisaburo.

Teru grabbed the baby’s blanket and tried to kiss him. “Let me see!” she cried and took the infant’s hand.

“Be careful of your baby brother,” Rie cautioned.

“Second son,” Jihei said. “No question about Yoshi’s succession.”

Defensive, wasn’t he?
She had noticed how possessive Jihei was about Yoshi and his position in the house.

“A brewing house can’t have too many children,” said Kinzaemon. “They will all help the house, help our enterprise.”

“They’re all capable children,” said Rie. “And look at Fumi.

She learns so fast.”

She smiled at her beautiful daughter.

“So does Yoshi. Always helping Kinno,” Jihei rejoined.

“I know Kin is pleased at how well Yoshi is advancing,” Kinzaemon said. “And speaking of Kin, I heard him say something about retiring too, soon after me. He’d like to hand over the main responsibility to Kinno. Our operation is growing so fast.” Rie glanced at her father, a sense of sudden loss overcoming her. “Our old customers will surely miss you, Father. You’ve worked with many of them nearly forty years, and Grandfather

worked with their parents.”

“Oh, our connections with some of our suppliers and customers go back several generations, many more than two.” Kinzaemon nodded and picked up his teacup.

Jihei’s face reddened. “I’ve had ten years to get to know them.

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I think they’re used to dealing with me. And Kinno can do many of the transactions Kin does now.”

Rie looked at the baby. “Yes, I’ve watched Kinno work, not only carrying out orders, but taking charge in an emergency, when something goes wrong. We’re lucky to have him to succeed Kin. He’s good with customers, and he has a sense of timing too.”

“We Nada brewers have always been the best business people. They say some of those small brewers in the north make the finest sake, but they don’t know how to sell beyond their local districts,” Kinzaemon said.

“Small brewers always say they’re more interested in quality than quantity,” Jihei said. “That was my family’s philosophy. They don’t really want to expand. They think it would affect quality.” He pouted.

Rie frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with our quality. We produce both quality and quantity. Toji is always experimenting, making improvements.” She glared at Jihei.

Kinzaemon nodded slowly. “We have to balance tradition with trying to improve. Sometimes that means doing something new, making some alteration in our production, or trying for an expanded sales route.”

“And timing, Father,” said Rie. “We have to constantly watch our competition. We can’t relax our attention, especially with Yamaguchi. He’s so sly.”

“Some day White Tiger will be number one, yes Rie?” Rie nodded, determined to fulfill her father’s dream.

“Well, I’m happy you have a son, Rie. We’ll leave you. Jihei and I need to get back to the office.”

After the men left, Rie pondered. She no longer worried that Jihei spent less time at home in the evening. The problem was the effect of his profligate ways on the reputation of the house. She

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had noticed that his face was becoming bloated and flushed as its normal state, and that he smelled of sake even during the day. She knew just what to do.

That evening she was alone with her father after dinner. The perfect time for discussion. She turned to him. “I’m afraid Jihei’s drinking is becoming a problem, Father. I haven’t said anything to him about it. But the smell never leaves him, and his face is becoming so red and bloated.” She held her hands over the hibachi.

“Yes, I’ve noticed, Rie. It’s a concern, especially with my retirement coming soon. But so long as he does his work I don’t know what we can say. I’ve seen this happen often in heirs to family businesses. I think it’s the family pressures that make them drink. I’ll try to speak to him, think of a way to broach the issue.”

“It can’t be good for his health either.” Rie frowned. “Let’s hope Yoshi doesn’t follow his example. I hope he takes after you instead.” She let the words linger in the air for a moment, then glanced at her father. She knew he understood.

Kinzaemon mumbled as he shuffled toward the office the next morning. He opened the shoji and saw Jihei sitting at one end of the office alone. Kinno’s voice could be heard talking to customers in the outer office.

“
Ah,
Jihei.” Kinzaemon settled himself at the table opposite his son-in-law.

“How are you this morning, Father?”

“Well, I have a concern.” He placed both hands on the table. “A difficult matter.”

Jihei pushed a cup of tea across the table and looked at Kinzaemon, who straightened his collar before speaking.

“I have noticed, Jihei, that of late you have been drinking more than usual.” He paused.

Jihei began pulling at his eyebrows and looked down.

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“I’m afraid it’s being noticed by others, our business associates. When this happens it can endanger our reputation, our business. And our house.”

“Oh, I don’t drink more than any other brewer. A man needs some relaxation in this work. I’m here in the office all day, ask Kinno. And surely I have provided enough children for the house.” He glanced at Kinzaemon, then looked down at his hands.

“It’s not lack of heirs that concerns me. But Yoshi is only nine and it will be several years before he can succeed. In the meantime you will represent the Omura House and White Tiger to the world. And frankly, I’ve been delaying retirement because I see what’s happening to you.”

Jihei’s eyebrows drew together in a deep frown. He was breathing heavily and struggled to speak.

Kinzaemon paused.

“I was selected for this position, and I have done my best for White Tiger. I have worked hard.” His face was a moue.

Kinzaemon’s expression was intent. “I know you spend nearly every evening at the Sawaraya. I urge you to curb your drinking. You have let it get out of hand. You owe it to the house.” Kinzaemon looked at Jihei, then placed his hands on the table and pushed to his feet. “Don’t forget your obligation,” he said as he turned and left.

Jihei put his hands to his face, resting his elbows on the table.
Huh!
Obligation, obligation! This was all he’d heard ever since he had married into this family. Being a mukoyoshi was something no one could envy, no matter how wealthy and important his adoptive house. It was suffocating, this network of relationships and obligations that entwined around him, an intricate spider’s web. There was no escape, no relief, other than the Sawaraya or Kitaya, a geisha’s understanding ways. Of course he needed his

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sake in the evening. He shook his head and his mouth pulled down at the corners. Kinzaemon was imagining something that was not there. Probably Rie had told him to speak to Jihei. She had never tried to understand him. He would get back at her somehow.

Kinzaemon’s retirement in the spring of 1841 was a major event in Kobe brewing circles. For forty years he had shepherded White Tiger through the precarious cycles of the brewing business. He was highly esteemed by all members of the Brewers Association. There was hardly a brewer for whom he had not done some personal favor over the course of the years. That a formal ceremony should mark his retirement and the passing of the mantle to Jihei as Kinzaemon X seemed only fitting. White Tiger was among the largest breweries in all Japan; the status and prestige that accompanied brewing in even the smallest hamlet was many times magnified in a brewery the size of White Tiger.

The ceremony was held in the spring. Kinzaemon insisted that no brewer be slighted, and this meant a long list. Extra help was hired for the occasion. Shoji partitions were removed to make a grand, enormous room. Unfortunately, as the younger son, Saburo would not be among the participants. Rie’s heart saddened at the thought. Over the years, she had often thought of

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contacting him, telling him about Fumi, but the risk was too great, so she had grieved in silence, mourning his loss as she had her mother and Toichi before her.

On the day of the ceremony Rie opened the wooden shutters and looked out at the garden. Early morning dew shimmering on the azaleas reminded her that it was spring and that the brewing was finished. As she gazed out she felt a sense of melancholy, a sadness that it was her father’s final day as Kinzaemon IX.

The activity began immediately. Everyone put on a formal kimono, lacquer tables were set in rows, and O-Yuki chased children and attempted to keep them clean and out from underfoot. Food was served with the best brew. Yoshitaro and Jihei sat on either side of Kinzaemon, Rie next to Jihei. Kin, Kinnosuke, Toji, the kurabito and clerks, all were included, with guests from breweries, officials, and customers. Seating in relation to Kinzaemon was according to status.

Lengthy formal speeches were made, as with a wedding or funeral. Kinzaemon spoke first. He bowed and cleared his throat.

“Forty years have passed since I succeeded to headship of the Omura House. During all those years you have granted us the favor of your support and cooperation. For that we are eternally grateful.”

Rie detected a hoarseness as her father struggled to keep his emotions under tight control. He asked for the continued patronage of customers and suppliers during the headship of Jihei, now Kinzaemon X. Finally, he prayed for the benison of the gods on the house. As Rie listened, her affection and admira-tion for her father congealed in a lump in her throat. When he finished he was greeted on all sides by raised cups and shouts of “Banzai!”