The Scent of Sake (48 page)

Several years had elapsed since White Tiger organized the first brewery-owned shipping company, and in the interim everyone in the Omura household had grown older. Ume was twenty and Hirokichi nearly as old. Yoshitaro was forty-four, and Rie had already passed sixty-five and entered the second cycle of life on the Chinese calendar, still vigorous and intent on keeping ahead of the competition.

Rie, ever watchful of Hirokichi, could not have been more pleased at what she saw. While some might view him as spoiled by Rie and Fumi, for Rie he embodied the innovative spirit of the new Meiji era. A jaunty confidence and optimism radiated from the clean regular planes of his face. He was an attractive young man, liked by everyone and especially popular among the brewers. Now that he was nearly of age, he worked regularly with his father and was a less frequent visitor to the main house. Rie’s hopes for the future were materializing in Hirokichi. Her father would be proud to know she would pass the mantle on to his

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grandson. And if this new joint stock company was successful, the Omura House might finally be number one, just as she had promised him. She smiled, but then with a twinge of guilt her thoughts turned to Ume.

Ume, only child of the main house, was now a beautiful, amiable young woman the age of marriage. While just a hint of Yoshitaro’s nose and unruly hair suggested itself, Ume could be considered attractive and of above-average intelligence.

The fortunes of White Tiger were definitely on the rise, yet something nagged at the back of Rie’s mind, made her uneasy. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Several evenings later the family was at dinner. Tama had brought in the rice and other dishes, and Ume was pouring tea.

“I wanted to speak to you about Ume, Mother,” Yoshi said. “Kinnosuke and I are both pleased with the way she has developed. I feel we should be able to select an appropriate mukoyoshi for her soon, someone like Father.”

Not like Jihei,
Rie thought, but was careful to keep her face a mask. “Yes, Yoshi.” She smiled. “I’ve been giving it some thought too, now that she’s nearly twenty. There are several acceptable prospects.”

Yoshitaro started to speak again, but began coughing and put a handkerchief to his mouth. He doubled over and could not stop his racking cough. Rie looked at him sharply. Was it her imagination, or had he lost weight?

“He has developed a bad cough lately, Mother,” Tama said with a worried glance at Yoshitaro. “Sometimes it keeps him awake at night.” She did not mention that it must have also kept her awake, worrying, but Rie could see it in the sallow shadows beneath her eyes.

“Have you called the herbalist, Tama?” Rie asked.

“I’ll do that tomorrow early,” she replied. “Ume, bring more tea for your father.”

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Ume rose and left the room.

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Rie ate without speaking. That was it, the nagging worry. Yoshitaro had never completely regained his health and spirits since he lost his leg. He had resumed his duties well enough, but lacking the edge of his former enthusiasm. Rie was certain Kinnosuke was aware of it and equally certain that he was protecting Yoshi, helping him out in his work to avoid any unwanted questions. This cough would bear watching.

Glancing at Yoshitaro, his food still untouched, Rie said, “You must eat something, Yoshi.”

He took up his chopsticks and picked at his rice. “I’m all right.

Don’t worry.”

Some months later Rie walked into the inner office and found Kinnosuke and Yoshitaro engrossed in conversation at the worktable. Buntaro had joined them.

“Come, Mother,” Yoshitaro said. “Buntaro has some interesting information.”

“Yes?” Rie smiled at the well-muscled young clerk and seated herself next to Yoshitaro.

“You remember those black ships, the steam-powered ships that appeared at Yokohama with the Americans some years ago?” Kinnosuke asked, blinking rapidly as he spoke.

“Oh, yes,” Rie said. “Sei told us about them. Everyone was so frightened by them at first.”

“Well,” Kinnosuke continued, “Buntaro was at the port yesterday. He says one of these ships has anchored there, and another is expected today.”

“What is their cargo? And who owns them?” Rie asked sharply.

She turned to Buntaro and took out her fan.

He bowed. “They say they are owned by the English and are chartered to a company in Tokyo. Apparently they have brought some of the new foreign goods to sell here in Kobe.”

“Foreign goods.” Rie paused and looked at Kinnosuke. “Well,

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we in Kobe have always welcomed Chinese goods, so these for-eigners will find a profitable market here. And that means they may be looking for cargo to take back to Tokyo, doesn’t it?”

Kinnosuke straightened and sucked in his breath. “That’s just what I was thinking, Oku-san. They’re much faster than our cask ships, and of course larger and safer. It looks as if they may make our ships obsolete. And it may not take long.”

“We should get to the port today, Kinno-san, you and Buntaro-san. Make some of our barrels available immediately, some that we marked for local sales, or some that were scheduled for one of our cask ships.”

Kinnosuke bowed twice. “Yes, I believe we’ll have to plan how to convert. It will be difficult, costly at first. Our cask crews will need to be trained too.”

“See if you can get some of the crew from one of our ships placed on one of the steamships as apprentices, Kinno-san. The important thing is to act now, without losing time.” She turned to Buntaro. “Your information was crucial, Buntaro-san. Thank you.” She nodded, almost a bow.

He bowed smartly and looked pleased.

She turned to Yoshitaro who was leaning forward intently, trying hard to suppress a cough.

“Yoshi, try to organize this, can you? Kinno and Buntaro can do the legwork . . . but you need to coordinate the operation here.” Rie knew she was perfectly capable of organizing, but she hoped to restore Yoshi’s energy. She looked at Yoshitaro’s pallid face and hoped the challenge would spark some of his old enthusiasm. She toyed with her obi, eyes flashing. “This is wonderfully exciting, isn’t it, Yoshi? I feel it’s the most important opportunity we’ve had in years. It may change the way sake is marketed everywhere.” She placed a hand on Yoshitaro’s shoulder and smiled.

He coughed and bent over, his hands over his mouth. Kinnosuke and Buntaro both rose and began talking anima—

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tedly about their visit to the port. Buntaro darted out to the kura to see about readying some barrels. As Rie left the office every clerk had been alerted and was going into action on Kinnosuke’s orders. She tapped her fan on her hand as she walked out, her thoughts on Yoshi rather than business.

One evening Rie sat at her dressing table in the second-floor room she had taken over after Yoshitaro’s accident. She fanned out a handful of her long thinning hair and saw that white strands had begun to spread beyond the hair at her temples. She combed and re-combed her hair attempting to conceal this proof of aging. At her last birthday she’d turned sixty-six, and she found it hard to realize that she was older than her father had been when he died. She felt no lessening of energy, no crippling rheumatism or the chilblains most people her age, including O-Natsu, complained of when the damp chill of winter settled in. The most she could say was that the cold energized her, spurred her to an extra burst of activity she always associated with the brewing season. Her health was exceptional; her spirits buoyed each year by the progress of the rice through the fermentation in the kura, so closely was her inner being bound to brewing. She knew it had been the same with her father, but she had never sensed the same intimate connection in either Jihei or Yoshitaro. Watching Hirokichi closely, she thought she could detect in him signs of a sixth sense, an almost physical bond with brewing. Could this somehow be her biological legacy through Fumi? She combed slowly, and paused, her comb in midair as she heard footsteps on the stairs.

“Excuse me, Grandmother,” a soft voice wafted through the shoji.

“Oh, come in, dear,” answered Rie. Ume opened the shoji and bowed.

“I’ve brought you some tea to warm you before you sleep,” she said and knelt beside Rie to set the tray down.

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Rie looked at her and smiled at the only grandchild of the main house. Ume was always so cheerful, eager to please, and a good worker. Rie looked at the large black eyes, startling against so pale a complexion. She does have a kind of beauty, Rie thought. It was unfortunate that she was not really an Omura daughter
.

Ume leaned gracefully to pour tea for her grandmother.

“Ume, now that you are twenty we must think of your marriage, mustn’t we?”

Ume looked down at the teapot and bowed.

“Has your mother spoken to you about it?” Rie asked.

“She said something about finding a mukoyishi
,
Grandmother, but nothing definite.”

“Of course there is no hurry, dear. But you are of the age.”

Ume looked up quizzically, her dark eyes reflecting an air of mystery in the flickering lamplight.

“We have no lack of prospects, dear. You know we are a major house, and your marriage will be a big event in Kobe.”

Rie looked at Ume. This beautiful, conscientious granddaughter tried so hard to please and yet Rie had never been able to accept her as she had Fumi and Sei. She could never know that she was a geisha’s daughter and granddaughter. There had been a time when Rie considered bringing Hirokichi in as Ume’s adopted husband, since both had been trained in the main house. That was what Yoshitaro expected and Kinnosuke assumed. But for Rie, Ume was ineligible by bloodline to marry the next house head.

Rie had been powerless to keep Yoshitaro, proof of Jihei’s philandering, or to prevent Ume, Yoshi’s child by another geisha, from entering the house. Now there were grandchildren emi-nently qualified to succeed, and free of O-Toki’s or any other geisha’s bloodline, most eligibly Hirokichi. Rie still safeguarded the official seal and refused to give it to Yoshi. Rie’s power in the house had grown over the years, and Yoshitaro, weakened by

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accident and illness, would have to struggle for his goal to have Ume and a husband succeed.

Rie knew in her heart that she had never been able to warm to Yoshitaro as she had to Fumi and Seisaburo. Still, aware of this difference, she had always sought to be fair to Yoshitaro who, though he had not performed brilliantly, had proven an able house head, far more capable than his father. He had shown strength of character, refusing to follow his father’s destructive path. Instead, he had been struck by samurai violence, and now by disease.

Rie looked again at Ume’s face, the lamplight glowing across her black eyes and striking features. Rie paused and pushed her long hair behind her shoulders.

“We don’t need to decide your marriage yet, dear. We can keep it to ourselves for now. This will be our secret, the two of us, all right?”