Tokyo Bay (17 page)

‘IT DOESN’T LOOK
like a palace
-
but
it
might give us shelter for a while!’
Robert Eden signa
l
led for Sentaro to wait
with the Japanese girl, and jumped down from his horse to plunge through a grove of swaying bamboo which had sprouted around an abandoned barn. Its thatched roof had many gaping holes and its timber walls leaned at strange angles to the steep hillside but, inside, Eden found that heaps of straw still littered its earth floor and the planks of an upper loft at one end.
Moonlight entering through the ragged holes in the roof revealed twisted cartwheels, broken pieces of harness and the scattered matting and ropes of worn
-
out carrying baskets. The interior of the barn, however, was dry and the air was f
r
esh, and Eden immediately rushed back to hold the fronds of bamboo aside and beckon Sentaro forward with the horses.
‘Tie them to the ladder leading up to the loft:
said Eden, gesturing to the far end of the barn. ‘And see if you can find some fodder.’
‘Of course, master.’
‘While Sentaro was tethering the horses, Eden turned to the Japanese girl, who ‘was standing uncertainly in the shadows by the entrance to the barn. Her face was taut and
it
was obvious, even in the gloom, that she was still trembling.
‘Tokiwa-san, your clothes are still wet from the waterfall,’ he said in Japanese.
‘In
your panniers, do you have anything dry to wear?’
She did not speak, but Eden saw her nod quickly. He realized then that the fear triggered by coming face to face with a ‘hideous alien’ for the first time was being heightened by the shadowy darkness inside the barn.
‘Bring Tokiwa’s baskets over here, please, Sentaro,’ he said quietly to the castaway. ‘She has dry clothing stored in there. And if there’s a lantern, light it and shade
it
carefully so
it
won’t be seen from outside.’
He stood still in the middle of the barn and cocked his head, listening for sounds of pursuit. To his relief, the silence of the wooded hills outside was broken only by the occasional shriek of a night bird. They had ridden hard for perhaps fifteen minutes through the forest before slowing and beginning to search for somewhere to hide. After skirting several valleys of terraced rice fields, Sentaro had spotted the deserted barn close to the edge of the woodland.
‘I think we’ll be safe here for a while,’ said Eden soothingly as he watched Sentaro set down the pan
n
iers in front of the pale-faced Japanese girl and pass her a shaded paper lantern. ‘We should all try to get a little rest.’
Taking the lantern in one hand, Tokiwa knelt to rummage in her baskets. Several times she lifted her head to cast a quick, nervous glance in Eden’s direction, and he saw then that agitation was visible in every movement she made. Sentaro, who was watching her closely, also noticed her unease and he dropped to his knees on the earth floor beside her, his face creased in concern.
‘There’s no need to be afraid,
O
Tokiwa-san,’ he said gently. ‘Our people mistakenly call all foreigners “hideous barbarians” and “monsters”, but they’re not really hideous. I lived among the
m
in America for four years after I was shipwrecked They treated me well and brought me back here on their black ships..’
Despite the reassuring tone of his voice, Tokiwa still did not respond or look up. Instead, she bent her head even lower, and her shoulders continued to shake as she fumbled unsuccessfully in each basket.
‘The American who wishes to help you is a good man continued Sentaro gently. ‘I’ve known him for many months, and he’s been a true’ friend to me.’ The Japanese turned and motioned silently for Eden to come and kneel beside him. ‘You can take a closer look at a
shu-i
for yourself now,
O
Tokiwa-san. Then you will know I tell the truth.’
Sentaro took the paper lantern f
r
om her and held it up at arm’s length so that its subdued glow illuminated Eden’s
face.
Squatting on his haunches, the American removed his battered straw hat
-
and waited, ‘When at last Tokiwa raised her head to look at him, her wide almond eyes betrayed her alarm.
‘Don’t be afraid: said Eden in Japanese. ‘I’m your friend too’
Tokiwa’s long black hair, still gleamingly damp from the waterfall, half covered her face and she lifted both hands to her cheeks in a sudden, nervous gesture, to draw the strands aside. For a long time she stared at Eden in a wondering silence.
‘I have no fangs and no horns,’ smiled Eden. ‘We “foreign barbarians” are just ordinary human beings after all.’
‘Your eyes are very blue
-
like the ocean: whispered Tokiwa at last. ‘And your hair is brown like the leaves in autumn.’
Eden nodded and smiled again. ‘That’s not unusual in my country:’
‘Do all “barbarians” . . .‘ she began impulsively, then broke off, still gazing wide-eyed at him. ‘I mean... do all people who live in America look like you?’
‘No.’ Eden shook his head. ‘People of many races from all over the world have co
m
e to live in my country. Many have different coloured hair
-
brown, black, yellow, even red. Their eyes are sometimes blue. But they may also be green, or brown, or grey.
While he spoke, Eden found himself wondering in his turn at the beguiling face of the girl kneeling in bewilderment before him on the earth floor of the barn. Although her hair was wet and unkempt, there was no disguising her rare natural beauty, which was enhanced by the soft light of the lamp held in Sentaro’s hand. Her wet peasant shirt, wide open at the throat, clung darkly to the slenderness of her upper body, outlining the soft curve of her breasts and, as they continued to stare at one another, Eden felt himself drawn powerfully to her delicate and apparently unconscious sensuality:
‘I’ve never before in my life seen a man with blue eyes: murmured Tokiwa, dropping her gaze to begin searching busily in her baskets once more. ‘Please excuse me for staring at you.’
Sentaro lowered the lantern and placed it on the ground. Looking at Eden, he smiled. ‘Tokiwa has informed me that she isn’t truly a peasant girl from the fields. She had to disguise herself for her escape. Normally she lives in Yedo, where she’s an honoured and notable geisha. She has studied music, poetry and dance and entertains noblemen of the highest rank.’
‘Thank you, Sentaro,’ said Eden, still gazing at the Japanese girl. ‘Now I understand.’ He paused and bowed his head chivalrously in her direction. ‘I’m very honoured to know you,
O
Tokiwa-san. And I’m sorry this “palace” is so humble compared with what you must be accustomed to in Yedo.’
Standing up, Eden crossed into the shadows at the other side of the barn. After unfastening his waist
pouch he peeled off his own wet shirt and threw it across an overhead rafter to dry in the warm night air. He saw Tokiwa pull a dark garment and a towel from one of the panniers, and retreat in the other direction to the darkness beneath the loft. Turning his back on her, Eden moved to the door of the barn and stood quietly listening for sounds of pursuit.
‘Master, come and look: called Sentaro in a low voice a few moments later. ‘Up here!’
Eden saw that the castaway had climbed the rickety ladder to the loft, and was squatting beside an opening through which sacks of grain had once been swung into the upper level of the barn. Clambering cautiously up the ladder, Eden hurried over to crouch beside him.
‘What is it, Sentaro?’ he demanded in an urgent whisper. ‘Is somebody approaching?’
‘No, master: he whispered. ‘But look!’
The Japanese raised his arm and pointed out through the nearby opening. Following the direction of his finger, Eden saw the same extraordinary image that he had first seen from the deck of the
Susquehanna
at midnight.
‘Fuji-san again!’ exclaimed Sentaro. ‘And looking more beautiful from here than I have ever seen it. Now I know, master, I have truly come home.’
Framed in the open grain-port of the barn, the snow-topped volcano loomed large in the heavens. The crescent moon and a scattering of stars hung like muted chandeliers above its peak, shedding sufficient light to beautify the mountain, but not enough to destroy the illusion that its darker base had melted away into the shadows of the lower regions. Eden stared out into the night in silence, his hand resting on Sentaro’s shoulder, and in that
m
oment the impulsive desire to climb to its summit, which he had first felt on board the flagship, became a firm resolve.
‘I’m quite sure now, Sentaro, that some time I will climb your sacred mountain,’ he said quietly. ‘I know no barbarian has yet set foot on its summit
-
but one day I
will
stand at the very top.’
‘If it ever becomes possible,
m
aster, for you to climb Fuji-san, I hope I’ll come with you,’ murmured Sentaro.
‘I hope so, too.’
Lost in thought, Eden continued to stare towards the spectacular volcano. Light swirls of night mist were beginning to drift above the nearer fields and forests, softening the contours, and a profound stillness seemed to have settled like a cloak over the abandoned barn and its surrounding countryside.
‘I have noticed that there’s a little temple on the hill above us, master: whispered Sentaro, gesturing out through the grain-port again. ‘I would like to go there now to thank the ancestral gods for guiding me back to my homeland. May I leave you for a little while?’
‘Of course, but be
careful
’
‘I won’t be long, master The castaway grinned his thanks and headed quickly towards the ladder. ‘I’ll pray to the
kami
for our safety and protection. .
In the deep silence Eden was able to hear Sentaro’s soft footfalls as he crept away up the wooded hillside. When the sounds had faded, he selected a spot from which he could still see the moonlit peak of Fuji framed in the open grain-port and settled himself on a mound of straw with his back against a wooden partition. Puffing his sword free from his gun belt, he laid it beside him and closed his eyes for a moment, intent on reviewing the frantic events of the past few hours
-
but instead he fell instantly into an exhausted sleep.
He did not stir again until a faint rust
li
ng at his back woke him with a start, a few minutes later. On instinct he snatched up his sword and stumbled to his feet
-
only to find Tokiwa standing quietly by the top of the ladder, holding the paper lantern in her hand.
‘I’m sorry he gasped in Japanese, throwing the sword down into the straw and rubbing his face with both hands. ‘I must have fallen asleep...’
The Japanese girl’s alarmed expression relaxed, but she did not move from her position by the head of the ladder. She was barefoot and had brushed and dried her hair as best she could, leaving it flowing loose over her shoulders. She had wrapped about herself the kimono of midnight-blue silk splashed with silver stars, but it was drawn together only casually around her slender waist with a simple sash of braided cord. In the incongruous setting of the
lamp lit
barn, the soft fall of its silken lines against her limbs gave a new, dramatic emphasis to her femininity.
‘It was so quiet she said in a faltering voice, ‘I came to see if you had run away
too...’
‘Don’t worry; Sentaro has only gone to pray in the temple.’ Eden shook his head to clear away the blurring effects of sleep. ‘I apologi
s
e
-
I should have realized you would be puzzled.’
‘I found some cold rice in my baskets,’ she said hesitantly after an awkward pause. ‘I’ve brought some for you to eat
-
if you are hungry’
‘Yes, thank you. I am very hungry.’
She began to move tentatively towards him and he saw that she was carrying in her free hand a small wooden bowl bearing balls of cold rice wrapped peasant-style in palm leaves. As she drew nearer, he became aware for the first time that her kimono was the colour of the night heavens, and that
it
was emblazoned with hosts of gleaming stars. She put down the lantern and held out the rice bowl gracefully towards him, using both hands, but he ignored it and continued to gaze in amazement at the image of the starlit heavens embroidered and printed so vividly into the rich silk of the garment.
‘Is anything wrong?’ she asked disconcertedly, still holding out the rice to him. ‘Are you no longer hungry?’
Eden shook his head in mystification. ‘I’m sorry.
Last night I had a dream. . . We had just seen Mount Fuji for the first time, from the sea. It was an extraordinary sight. I went to sleep soon afterwards and dreamed I climbed alone to the top of the mountain. It was very vivid
-
not like a normal dream.’
He broke off and peered over his shoulder towards the distant volcano. Wisps of mist were beginning to rise around the peak, giving it a blurred, ghostly appearance, and Eden continued to stare at it, lost in thought, until he felt the lightest touch of her fingers against his bare forearm.
‘What else happened in your dream?’ asked Tokiwa diffidently. ‘Will you please tell me...’
‘At the peak it became very strange,’ he said, turning back to look at her. ‘I reached up above the summit and began puffing down the stuff of the heavens
-
with all the stars in it. I wrapped the darkness and the stars around my body like a magic cloak. It felt soft and very comforting.. .‘ He broke off and touched the smooth silk of her ki
m
ono very lightly with his fingertips, all the time looking wonderingly into her face. ‘Then a great mirror of ice appeared, and I went to look at my cloak of stars. But when I peered into the mirror I found I couldn’t see my reflection . .
His voice died away and for a long moment they stood facing each other in silence.
‘Did you see anything else in the mirror?’ asked Tokiwa at last. ‘Anything at all?’
Eden nodded slowly. ‘Yes. In the mirror I saw a very beautiful girl of Nippon looking back at me. And