It’s a restaurant near the harbor. There’s a little cottage out back for private parties. He goes there so the other guests won’t hear

the girls scream.”

276

I . J . P a r k e r

Heavy, dragging steps approached their door, and someone

belched grossly. Then the door slid back, and a fat, bald old man

peered in, bringing with him the sour fumes of cheap wine.

“What do you want?” Tora snapped.

“I’m the doctor,” the old man grunted, and squeezed his

bulk in. He put down a medicine box and used his sleeve to

wipe the sweat off his red face and scalp. His robe was dark, like

a doctor’s, but so filthy that it was difficult to guess its original color. Taking a couple of uncertain steps, he sat down heavily in

front of Little Flower. More rancid wine fumes filled the small

cubicle. Tora closed the door and stood against the wall. The

man’s body seemed to fill the space.

“Ah,” the doctor said to the girl, “it’s you again, is it? Same

trouble?”

She nodded. “Yes, Dr. Ogata.”

“Let’s see, then.”

She got to her feet and repeated the disrobing process, turn-

ing her lacerated back toward Ogata. He gave a soundless whistle.

“Girl,” he said, “you won’t survive the next one. I told you to

come live with me.”

At this Tora lost his patience. “You filthy old lecher,” he

growled. “Passing yourself off as a healer when you’re a drunk.

And then you want to get the poor girl in your bed before you’ve

even treated her back. Get out of here. I’ll send for a real doctor.”

Little Flower cried out a protest, but the doctor just turned to

stare at Tora. He chuckled. “Well, well, girl, that’s more like it. A handsome fellow, and considerate. Not like that animal you’ve

been consorting with. Take my advice and stick with this one.”

Tora glared at the fat man, and Little Flower flushed scarlet

and averted her face. She pulled the gown around her and

murmured, “He just wanted information. Nothing else.”

“Hmm.” Ogata looked from one to the other, scratched his

bald head, and grinned at Tora. “Sit down, young man, or step

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

277

outside. You’re making me nervous, hanging over me like a moun-

tain. Now, as to my fee, you can pay me five coppers or two flasks

of wine, whichever you prefer. You don’t want the other doctor. He

knows nothing about the way these girls must live and would

make trouble for her.” Turning back to Little Flower, he said, “All right. You know the routine. Lie down. It’ll hurt this time, but

you’ve waited too long and I must clean some of the poison out.”

“What poison?” demanded Tora suspiciously, as Little

Flower spread her robe and stretched out on it. “Did the bastard

rub poison on her back after beating her half to death?”

“No, no.” Ogata was peering closely at the welts, pressing

them with his fingers from time to time. “Leeches,” he muttered.

“That’s what we need. Well, I don’t have any, but I’ll do the best

I can.” He turned to Tora. “Don’t you know anything? Miasma

are all about us, in the air, on the ground, in our clothing, just

waiting to enter our bodies. The dead rot because of the poi-

sonous miasma about us. Sometimes even the living rot if the

poison gets into their wounds. Miasma are why the gods warn

against touching the dead and demand we cleanse our hands

and mouths before addressing them in prayer. In her case,

they’ve invaded some of the cuts and poisoned them. Leeches

would suck out the poison, but there are other methods. Go

fetch some warm water and two or three eggs.”

Tora’s skin itched. He retreated nervously. Miasma? Eggs?

Afraid to show more ignorance, Tora did not ask. He found the

landlady and relayed the doctor’s instructions, then asked wor-

riedly, “Are you sure that fellow’s any good? He’s drunk and looks

filthy, quite apart from being old and not too healthy himself.”

To his surprise, Oyoshi glared at him, “Around here people

better watch what they say about the doctor. He may not look

like much, but he’s saved a lot of poor girls, and men, too. Often

he doesn’t charge them anything. Besides, he’s the coroner,

which means he’s smart. The government pays him a salary for

278

I . J . P a r k e r

that and for treating the prisoners. Maybe if people had to see

the things he does, they’d drink, too.”

She left him standing in the hallway to get the water and

eggs, still muttering to herself.

Tora was astonished at her outburst, but even more sur-

prised that the fat drunk was the coroner. And he looked after

sick prisoners. Forgetting all about noxious miasma, Tora

turned on his heel and plunged back into the small room so

suddenly that he bumped into Ogata’s formidable backside. The

physician had been standing bent over his medicine case and

tumbled forward, causing Little Flower to cry out.

“Sorry,” Tora cried. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. Please don’t worry,” Little Flower said with an adoring

look. “You’re very kind and generous, Master Tora.”

“Speak for yourself, girl.” Ogata straightened up, rubbing his

posterior, when he caught her expression. He turned to look

Tora over. “A soldier, eh? Not from around here, are you, son?”

Tora, the newly promoted lieutenant, considered this some-

what condescending from a drunken quack, but under the cir-

cumstances he swallowed his pride, and said, “No. On temporary

assignment from Echigo.”

“Echigo, eh? Been here long?”

“I arrived today.”

“Really? Staying long?”

If it had not been for the fact that Tora had his own ques-

tions for the doctor, he would have balked, but he only said,

“As long as it takes. Tell me something, please. How can you

people let an animal like that Wada terrorize decent citizens?

Where I come from, there are laws to protect people against

bad officials.”

The physician snorted. “So they say. And some have died

proving it. You can’t blame the rest of us for postponing the

experiment a little while longer.”

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

279

Oyoshi bustled in with a bucket of water and two eggs in a

small bowl. “Sorry,” she said, catching her breath. “Had to run

across the street for the eggs. They cost a copper apiece.”

Tora fished the coins from his sash and paid her. He won-

dered if he had paid for the doctor’s snack, but Ogata took the

eggs and sat down next to Little Flower. Tora and the landlady

watched as he gently washed the lacerated skin, occasionally

squeezing swollen areas, while Little Flower bit into the sleeve of her gown to keep from crying out. When he was satisfied that he

had cleaned out most of the poison, he broke the eggs and

dabbed egg white over the wounds.

“Lie still and let it dry,” he told the girl.

“What’s the egg for?” Tora wanted to know.

“Draws out the poison.”

They sat and waited. Tora studied Ogata and finally said, “I

hear you’re the coroner.”

Ogata nodded.

“So you know all about the murdered prince, I suppose?”

Ogata shifted a little to look at him. “That have anything to

do with your business in Sadoshima?”

Blast the man. He answered questions with more questions.

Tora said, “No. I was just curious.”

“I did not see the body. The prince’s own physician did that.

You’ll have to ask him.”

“What happened at the hearing?”

Ogata cocked his head. “Sure you’re not officially interested?”

Tora flushed. “I went to see the governor today. He men-