An Unwelcome Visitor

On the way back to the capital, Tora considered his options. Given his master’s surprising and disappointing indifference to the actions of the sohei, he could either forget the matter or try to help the unfortunate Kinzaburo and his family himself.

Forgetting about them was out of the question. For one thing, Tora hated brutality, especially toward women and children. For another, for all his elevated status as Lieutenant Sashima, trusted retainer of Lord Sugawara, he was a peasant by birth and at heart. He could not deny this bond with Kinzaburo and his family. And thus his choice was simple and quickly made. He would find a way to free Kinzaburo and return him to his family. In the process, he hoped to deal out some punishment to the sohei. But this he did not insist on. It would merely be an extra satisfaction. He had served his master long enough to know he must guard against making trouble. It was bad enough that he would have to go against orders in this case.

Or if not orders precisely, then implied refusal of permission.

Having settled matters to his satisfaction, he hurried homeward, thinking with pleasure of surprising Hanae and spending the evening with his family and the night in her soft arms.

The gate was opened by the stable boy. Tora rode in, tired and dusty, and snapped, “Don’t you know that you must check who’s at the gates before throwing them wide? What if it had been armed robbers?”

The boy grinned impudently. “That would’ve been something to see. Nothing ever happens around here.”

Saburo came up behind him and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Tora swung himself out of the saddle and tossed the reins to the boy. “Watch your mouth, kid. You’re not too old to be put over my knee.” When Tora turned to Saburo, the boy stuck out his tongue and took the horse away.

Saburo’s face wore a peculiar expression, half sheepish and half dejected. “So, what’s been happening, brother?” Tora asked.

Saburo grimaced and glanced over his shoulder. “A terrible thing’s happened. I don’t know what will come of it.”

“Spit it out.” Tora was getting impatient. Hanae was waiting.

Saburo opened his mouth, but a sharp voice cried, “So!” A woman’s voice. It added, “And you are who?” Saburo shrank into himself as if he expected a beating.

Surprised, Tora turned his head. A small, round, elderly woman in black had appeared around the corner of the stable. She waddled closer, surprisingly quick on her feet for her size. In fact, she seemed to glide across the gravel as if carried by invisible animals under her full skirt. Her face was sharp-featured for one so fat, and her expression was ominous.

“Who the hell is she?” Tora burst out.

“Language!” cried the woman, waving a finger at him. “A man is judged by his manner in the presence of ladies. Keep it in mind for the future! Hmmph! Lost your voice? You must be Tora, the handsome one. What happened to your face?”

Resentment evaporated. Tora treated the little woman to one of his brightest smiles and an exaggerated bow. “I am Tora. My apologies, auntie. Your ears are too sharp. You weren’t meant to hear that.”

“I’m not your auntie. You will address me as Mrs. Kuruda.” She stopped before him and looked him over. “A pretty face and a smooth tongue, but you’re a troublemaker. Your wife must have her work cut out for her.”

Tora saw Saburo flinch and looked at him. “Mrs. Kuruda?” he asked.

“My mother,” murmured Saburo, hanging his head.

“Speak up, son,” the little woman instructed him. “And always stand up straight, look people in the eye, and speak clearly. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?”

Saburo straightened. “No, Mother,” he said more loudly.

She returned her attention to Tora. “What brings you home? I thought you were with your master in Otsu.”

“Umm, I had some free time and thought I’d look in to see that everything is all right.” Tora shot another glance at Saburo.

“Not necessary. Now that I’m here, I’ll make sure of it. A good thing I decided to look in on Saburo. Everything’s at sixes and sevens without your mistress. Saburo told me she died in childbed, poor woman. A woman’s karma is a terrible thing. We bring our children into this world in pain and suffering. We raise them in the sweat of our brow, going without food so that they may eat, we slave for them, teach them, watch over them, hold them when they’re sick, and never ask for anything in return. We give our lives to see them live, while men just go their own ways without a care in the world.”

Tora gaped at her. “That’s not really what happens,” he protested.

“Pish pash! What difference? She died giving birth, and now the household is left without a mistress.”

“Well, my wife and Genba’s are looking after the children and the house. And there’s a cook and a maid.”

“All very well, but it’s not the same, is it?”

There was no denying that, so Tora said nothing.

“Right,” she said. “Now you’d better get cleaned up. You missed dinner, but I’ll have the cook reheat something. Off you go now. I have things to do. I can’t stand here gossiping.” She waddled away as briskly as she had come.

“I’m sorry,” Saburo muttered.

“That’s your mother?” Tora was still looking after her. “You never said anything. Where’d she come from?”

“It’s a long story. Come, you’d better do as she said or it’ll make things worse.”

Tora frowned. “She’s not my mother, and you look like you wish she wasn’t yours. You have a lot to explain, brother.”

Saburo sighed. “I was sent to the monks when I was ten. She had some crisis of faith and thought making me a monk would save both our souls.”

“That doesn’t explain her sudden appearance. You’ve never talked about your family. What about your father? Is he going to turn up, too?”

”My father died. By that time I was in training as a spy and not allowed to see my family. Not that I wanted to.”

“Out with the whole story. How is it that she’s suddenly here after all that time?”

Saburo looked at the house, then gazed at the gate, the stables and the kitchen buildings beyond almost as if he were trying to memorize them. “I’ll have to leave,” he said sadly. “I can’t throw her out, and therefore we’ll both have to go. I’m sorry.”

Tora regarded him, his eyebrows raised. “Why should you go? Surely she’ll return to her own home after a visit with you.”

“My sister’s husband threw her out. She has no place to go.” He added bitterly, “They helped her find me.”

“They threw her out? That’s terrible. But don’t worry. The master will make her welcome just like he made Hanae and Ohiro welcome. She’s your mother, man.”

Saburo gave him a desperate look. “I could never inflict my mother on his household.”

“Don’t be silly. Look, I want to see Hanae now. Why don’t you get Genba and Ohiro, and we’ll put our heads together about this matter.”

Saburo nodded and walked off.

He walks like an old man, Tora thought, shaking his head—and all because his mother came to see him. What’s the matter with people?

He did not bother to ponder this question but went straight to his own small house, where Hanae squealed with joy and threw herself into his arms.

When they both emerged from the joyous reunion, and Tora had explained his black eye, he spared a thought for his son. “Where’s Yuki?”

“With the schoolmaster. Oh, Tora, he’s making such good progress. You must be proud.”

“Hmm.” The fact was that Tora did not approve. His secret fear that his son would be smarter than his father had already come to pass when Yuki had dared correct Tora’s speech and offered to read him a story he had written.

Hanae said, “It was most generous of the master to educate our son. And I think he’ll do the same for the others.”