Plum Wine: A Novel

Chapter 11

11 M onday morning, Barbara went into Kokubunji to buy food for Seiji’s visit that afternoon: bean cakes and fine green tea, and for dinner—in case he should stay that long—salmon and snow peas. In the pharmacy, she tried to buy deodorant, using her pocket sized Japanese-English dictionary. There was no word for deodorant, only deodorize. The young female clerk showed her air freshener, cleansing powder, toilet bowl cleaner. Finally Barbara demonstrated, raising her arm and rubbing beneath it; the girl stared at her and shook her head. Barbara looked at her watch; she’d have to make do with powder. On the way home she stopped to buy flowers: three yellow chrysanthemums for the tokonoma , a single stalk of iris—one blossom half open, the other about to bud—for the tansu. When she got back to the campus it was almost deserted, just one or two people walking in the distance. The end of the year holiday, delayed by Michi’s memorial service, had begun. Although students 4 94 4 4 95 4 and faculty would return for graduation in mid-March, classes would not resume until April. As Barbara walked up the main drive, Miss Fujizawa came by in her chauffeured car. The car stopped, and Miss Fujizawa lowered the back window. “Hello, Miss Jefferson,” she said, eyeing the flowers and groceries, “aren’t you going to explore Japan?” Barbara explained that she was meeting a student in Kyoto on Saturday, after she caught up on some work, then went on—before Miss Fujizawa could inquire about the work—that she might visit Hakone for a few days. “My mother was there before the war.” “Indeed? Well, please take care of yourself, Miss Jefferson. We are responsible for your welfare. If we had known of your plans, my secretary could have made arrangements at the Hakone Hotel.” “Oh, it’s fine,” Barbara said, but Miss Fujizawa was already rolling up her window. At Sango-kan Barbara was relieved to see Mrs. Ueda’s car gone; she must be travelling too. Miss Ota had left for Yonago again and Miss Yamaguchi for Kyushu, to visit family there. She had the building to herself. In her apartment she opened all the windows and sliding doors. It was an unusually mild day. She arranged the flowers in vases, then placed them on the tansu and on the tokonoma beside Seiji’s tea bowls, which she’d already set out on top of wooden boxes. In the six-mat room, she put paper, pens, and her large Japanese-English dictionary on the kotatsu. The zabuton cushions were already arranged beside the table. Exactly at two, there was a light knock on the door. She walked slowly down the hall, not wanting to seem too eager. Seiji bowed solemnly. “I hope I am in good time.” He held out three pale green lilies and a package of cookies. “The flowers express Japanese sentiment,” he said. “The sweets are in memory of your home.” On the package of cookies were Japanese characters, and in English, “Carolina Beauty Bourbon Snaps.” In smaller letters the label read, “Beautiful things are beyond time. Women’s history never cease to yearn for beauty.” “I think these suit you,” he said. “Oh yes—I mean thank you. Dozo,” She gave two quick bows, then led the way down the hall to the sitting room. “I thought we could work in here. Please make yourself comfortable,” she said, gesturing toward the kotatsu. He gazed around the room as though for the first time. “Very fresh,” he said, nodding his approval. “Ah.” He looked at his tea bowls on the tokonoma. “I see I am in place of honor.” He turned, grinning at her. “Well, of course.” She could feel herself blushing. “I’ll go put these flowers in water,” she said, then added, with a smile, “Try not to be bored while I am gone.” When she came back to put the lilies on the kotatsu, Seiji was no longer there. She found him in the smaller room kneeling beside the tansu. The bottom drawer was open. He pulled out a tiny package wrapped in white paper. “What’s that?” she said. “Where did you find it?” “In some paper behind the bottles.” He undid the package. Inside was another wrapping, worn red silk tied with a cord. Barbara reached out for it but he nimbly undid the cord. The silk fell away. “Wah!” he...