The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet (14 page)

“Arie Grote has the same fearful opinion of His Grace.”

The breeze carries over the smell of the Chinamen’s gunpowder.

“Mr. Grote is wise. Abbot’s domain is small, but he is …” Ogawa hesitates. “He is much power. Besides shrine in Kyôga, he has residence here in Nagasaki, house in Miyako. In Edo, he is guest of Matsudaira Sadanobu. Sadanobu-
sama
is much power … ‘kingmaker,’ you say? Any close friend such as Enomoto is also power. Is bad enemy. Please, remember.”

Jacob drinks. “Surely, as a Dutchman, I have safety from ‘bad enemies.’”

When Ogawa makes no reply, the Dutchman feels less safe.

Beach fires dot the shoreline, all the way to the bay’s mouth.

Jacob wonders what Miss Aibagawa thinks of her illustrated fan.

Cats tryst on Deputy van Cleef’s roof, below the platform.

Jacob surveys the hillsides of roofs and wonders which is hers.

“Mr. Ogawa: in Japan, how does a gentleman propose to a lady?”

The interpreter decodes. “Mr. de Zoet want to ‘butter your artichoke’?”

Jacob loses half a mouthful of
sake
in spectacular fashion.

Ogawa is very concerned. “I make mistake with Dutch?”

“Captain Lacy has been enriching your vocabulary again?”

“He give tuition for I and Interpreter Iwase on ‘Gentlemanly Dutch.’”

Jacob lets it pass for now. “When
you
asked for your wife’s hand in marriage, did you first approach her father? Or give her a ring? Or flowers? Or …?”

Ogawa fills their cups. “I not see wife before wedding day. Our
nakôdo
made match. How to say
nakôdo?
Woman who knows families who want marriage …”

“An interfering busybody? No, forgive me: a go-between.”

“‘Go-between’? Funny word. ‘Go-between’
go between
our families,
achi-kochi
”—Ogawa moves his hand like a shuttle—“describes bride to father. Her father is rich merchant of sappanwood dye in Karatsu, three days’ journey. We investigate family … no madness, secret debt, et cetera. Her father come in Nagasaki to meet Ogawas of Nagasaki. Merchants lower class than samurai, but …” Ogawa’s hands become the pans of a weighing scale. “Ogawa stipend is safe, and we involve sappanwood trade via Dejima, and so father agrees. We meet next in shrine on wedding day.”

The buoyant moon has freed itself from Mount Inasa.

“What about,” Jacob speaks with
sake
-inspired frankness, “what about love?”

“We say, ‘When husband love wife, mother-in-law loses her best servant.’”

“What a joyless proverb! Don’t you yearn for love, in your hearts?”

“
Yes
, Mr. de Zoet say truth: love is thing of
heart
. Or love is like this
sake:
drink, night of joy, yes, but in cold morning, headache, sick stomach. A man should love concubine, so when love dies he say, ‘Goodbye,’ easy and no injury. Marriage is different: marriage is matter of
head
 … rank … business … bloodline. Holland families are not same?”

Jacob recalls Anna’s father. “We are exactly the same, alas.”

A shooting star lives and dies in an instant.

“Do I not keep you from welcoming your own ancestors, Mr. Ogawa?”

“My father performs rituals at family residence tonight.”

The cow lows in the Pine Tree Corner, upset by the firecrackers.

“To speak with sincerity,” says Ogawa, “my blood ancestors is not here: I was borned at Tosa Domain, on Shikoku, which is big island”—Ogawa points east—“that way, to father of low retainer of Lord Yamanouchi of Tosa. Lord gave my schooling and sent me in Nagasaki for learn Dutch under Ogawa Mimasaku’s house to make bridge between his Tosa and Dejima. But then old Lord Yamanouchi died. His son has no interest in Dutch studies. So I was ‘marooned,’ you say? But then Ogawa Mimasaku’s two sons died in cholera, ten years ago. Much, much death in city that year. So Ogawa Mimasaku adopted me, to continue family name.”

“What about your own mother and father back on Shikoku?”

“Tradition says, ‘After adoption, do not go back.’ So I not go back.”

“Didn’t you miss them?” Jacob recalls his own bereavement.

“I had new name, new life, new father, new mother, new ancestors.”

Does the Japanese race
, wonders Jacob,
derive gratification from self-inflicted misery?

“My study of Dutch,” says Ogawa, “is great … solace. Is correct word?”

“Yes, and your fluency,” the clerk says, quite sincerely, “shows how hard you work.”

“To progress is difficult. Merchants, officials, guards not understand how hard. They think, My
work
I
do: why lazy and foolish interpreter cannot do same?”

“During my apprenticeship”—Jacob unfolds his stiff legs—“to a timber company, I worked at the ports of not only Rotterdam but also London, Paris, Copenhagen, and Gothenburg. I know the vexations of foreign languages, but unlike you,
I
had the advantages of dictionaries and an education populated by French schoolmasters.”

Ogawa’s “Ah …” is full of longing. “So many places, you can go …”

“In Europe, yes, but not one toe can I put past the land gate.”

“But Mr. de Zoet may pass through
sea
gate and away, over ocean. But I
—all
Japanese”—Ogawa listens to Hanzaburo and his friend’s conspiratorial grumbles—“prisoners all life. Who plot to leave is executed. Who leave and return from abroad is executed. My precious wish is one year in Batavia, to speak Dutch … to eat Dutch, to drink Dutch, to sleep Dutch. One year, just one year …”

These are new thoughts for Jacob. “Do you recall your first visit to Dejima?”

“Very
well I recall! Before Ogawa Mimasaku adopt me as son. One day, master announce, ‘Today, we go Dejima.’ I—” Ogawa clutches his heart and mimes awe. “We walk over Holland Bridge and my master says, ‘This is longest bridge you ever cross, because this bridge go between two worlds.’ We pass through land gate and I see giant from story! Nose big like potato! Clotheses with no tie strings but buttons, buttons, buttons and hair yellow, like straw! Smell bad, too. Just as astonishment, I first see
kuronbô
, black boys who skin like eggplant. Then foreigner opened mouth and say,
‘Schffgg-evingen-flinder-vasschen-morgengen!’ This
was same Dutch I study so hard? I just bow and bow, and master hits my head and says, ‘Introduce self, foolish baka!’ so I say, ‘My name is Sôzaemon
degozaimsu
weather is clement today I thank you very well, sir.’ Yellow giant laugh and says,
‘Ksssfffkkk schevingen-pevingen!’
and points to marvel white bird who walk like man and tall as man. Master says, ‘This is ostrich.’ Then much bigger marvel, animal big as shack, blocks out sun;
nyoro-nyoro
nose he dips in bucket and drinks and shoots water! Master Ogawa say, ‘Elephant,’ and I say,
‘Zô?’
and master says, ‘No, foolish
baka
, it is
elephant.’
Then we see cockatoo in cage, and parrot who repeat words, strange game with sticks and balls on table-of-walls, called ‘billiards.’ Bloody tongues lying on ground here, there, here, there: cud of betel juice, spat by Malay servants.”

“What,” Jacob has to ask, “was an elephant doing on Dejima?”

“Batavia sent for gift for shogun. But magistrate sent message to Edo to say he eat much food so Edo discuss and say,
no
, company must take elephant back. Elephant die of mystery ill very soon—”

Running footsteps thump up the stairs of the watchtower: it is a messenger.

Jacob can tell from Hanzaburo’s response that the news is bad.

“We must go,” Ogawa informs him. “Thieves in house of Chief Vorstenbosch.”

“THE STRONGBOX BEING
too heavy to steal,” Unico Vorstenbosch says, showing the audience crowded into his private quarters, “the robbers heaved it around and staved in the back with a hammer and chisel—look.” He pulls a strip of teak from the iron frame. “When the hole was big enough, they extracted their prize and made good their escape. This was not petty theft. They had the right tools. They knew exactly what they were after. They had spies, spotters, and the skills to smash a strongbox in complete silence. They also had a blind eye at the land gate. In short”—the chief resident glares at Interpreter Kobayashi—“they had help.”

Constable Kosugi asks a question. “The headman asks,” translates Iwase, “when last time you saw teapot?”

“This morning. Cupido checked it was unscathed by the earthquake.”

The constable heaves a weary sigh and issues a flat observation.

“Constable say,” Iwase translates, “slave is last who see teapot on Dejima.”

“The
thieves
, sir,” Vorstenbosch exclaims, “were the last to see it!”

Interpreter Kobayashi tilts his shrewd head. “What was value of teapot?”

“Exquisite craftsmanship, silver leafing on jade—a thousand
kobans
could not buy another. You have seen it yourself. It belonged to the last Ming ruler of China—the ‘Chongzhen’ emperor, as I gather he is known. It is an irreplaceable antique—as
someone
surely told the thieves, damn their eyes.”

“Chongzhen emperor,” observes Kobayashi, “hang himself from pagoda tree.”

“I did not summon you here for a history lesson, Interpreter!”

“I hope earnestly,” Kobayashi explains, “that teapot is not curse.”

“Oh, it’s cursed for the damned dogs who
stole
it! The company is the owner of the teapot, not Unico Vorstenbosch, and so the Company is the victim of this crime.
You
, Interpreter, shall go with Constable Kosugi to the magistracy
now.”

“Magistracy is close tonight.” Kobayashi wrings his palms. “For
O-bon
festival.”

“The magistracy”—the chief hits the desk with his cane—“will have to
open!”

Jacob knows the look on the Japanese faces:
impossible foreigners
.

“May I suggest, sir,” says Peter Fischer, “that you demand searches of the Japanese warehouses on Dejima? Perhaps the sly bastards are waiting until the fuss has died down before smuggling your treasure away.”

“Well spoke, Fischer.” The chief looks at Kobayashi. “Tell the constable so.”

The interpreter’s tilted head denotes reluctance. “But precedent is—”

“Hang
precedent!
I
am the precedent now, and
you
, sir,
you
”—he pokes a chest that, Jacob would wager a sheaf of banknotes, has never been poked before—“are paid
usuriously
to
protect
our interests! Do your job! Some coolie, or merchant, or inspector, or, yes, even an
interpreter
stole the company’s property. This act insults the company’s honor. And by damn, I shall have the Interpreters’ Guild searched, as well! The perpetrators shall be hunted down like pigs, and I shall make them
squeal
. De Zoet—go and tell Arie Grote to make a large jug of coffee. None of us shall be sleeping for some time yet …”

“T
HE SHOGUN’S REPLY TO MY ULTIMATUM IS A MESSAGE FOR
ME
,”
complains Vorstenbosch. “Why must a piece of paper rolled up in a tube spend the night at the magistracy, like a pampered guest? If it arrived yesterday evening, why wasn’t it brought to me straightaway?”
Because
, Jacob thinks,
a message from the shogun is the equivalent of a papal edict, and to deny it due ceremony would be capital treason
. He keeps his mouth shut, however; in recent days, he has noticed a growing coolness in his patron’s attitude toward him. The process is discreet: a word of praise to Peter Fischer here, a curt remark to Jacob there, but the onetime “Indispensable de Zoet” fears that his halo is dimming. Nor does Van Cleef attempt to answer the chief resident’s question. Long ago, he acquired the courtier’s knack of distinguishing the rhetorical question from the actual. Captain Lacy leans back on his groaning chair with his head behind his hands and whistles between his teeth very softly. Waiting on the Japanese side of the state table are Interpreters Kobayashi and Iwase and just two senior scribes. “Magistrate’s chamberlain,” Iwase offers, “shall bring shogun’s message soon.”

Unico Vorstenbosch scowls at the gold signet on his ring finger.

“What did William the Silent,” wonders Lacy, “say about his moniker?”

The grandfather clock is grave and loud. The men are hot and silent.

“Sky this afternoon is …” remarks Interpreter Kobayashi “… unstable.”

“The barometer in my cabin,” agrees Lacy, “promises a blow.”

Interpreter Kobayashi’s expression is courteous but blank.

“A ‘blow’ is a storm,” explains Van Cleef, “or gale, or typhoon.”

“Ah, ah.” Interpreter Iwase understands. “‘Typhoon’ … 
tai-fû
, we say.”

Kobayashi dabs his shaved forehead. “Funeral for summer.”

“Unless the shogun has agreed to raise the copper quota,” Vorstenbosch says, folding his arms, “it is Dejima that shall need a funeral: Dejima, and the well-feathered careers of its interpreters. Speaking of which, Mr. Kobayashi, do I take it from your studied silence regarding the company’s stolen item of chinaware that not one inch of progress has been made toward its recovery?”

“Investigation is continuing,” replies the senior interpreter.

“At the speed of a slug,” mutters the chief resident. “Even if we
do
remain on Dejima, I shall report to Governor-General van Overstraten how indifferently you defend the company’s property.”

Jacob’s sharp ears hear marching feet; Van Cleef hears them, too.

The deputy goes to a window and looks down onto Long Street. “Ah, at last.”

TWO GUARDS STAND
on either side of the doorway. A bannerman enters first: his pennant displays the three-leafed hollyhock of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Chamberlain Tomine enters, holding the revered scroll tube on a perfect lacquered tray. All the men in the room bow toward the scroll, except Vorstenbosch, who says, “Come in, then, Chamberlain, sit down, and let us learn whether His Highness in Edo has decided to put this damned island out of its misery.”