Fish of the Seto Inland Sea

She had never thought she would be a politician’s wife, but she would do her best. Kei suspected that there was another reason for Tei-ichi’s decision to direct his efforts in a different direction. Whenever Yasuharu came home, there were villagers who came in with sheepish grins and asked, ‘Eh, I wonder if the young Dr Yasuharu is at home?’ Tei-ichi would say with a wry smile, ‘Cunning rascals. Drinking bath water and wanting a new doctor.’ Although Kei’s interpretation was simpler, Tei-ichi felt that the time had come for a new generation of doctors with knowledge and technology. Experience alone was no longer enough to gain people’s confidence. He had suspected this for a long time, perhaps since Shintaro came home from university.

Kei calculated that with his reputation and the respect he had among people, he would succeed in being elected. As though she had planned it all along, she said, ‘It is very good timing.’

Their second son had been adopted by a landowner’s family in a nearby village. Their third son, Masakazu, Kei said, would not need any more education.

‘Why?’ Tei-ichi wondered why she was telling him about their sons and also why there would be no more expense for Masakazu’s education. Their third son had always been a worry for Tei-ichi. Shobei had said that the Shirai boys were all bright but he had overlooked Masakazu. He was a kind, cheerful boy but would not be able to go to university without great expense for special tutoring, and even that might not achieve the aim.

Kei argued, ‘Any more education for him would be a waste of money.’

Tei-ichi had always thought of Masakazu as a failure. Many times he had sat with the boy till late at night trying to teach him things he could not grasp. The more annoyed and angry Tei-ichi became, the more confused the boy became until he could not answer questions that even Haruko was able to get right. But Tei-ichi was nevertheless determined to go on trying harder to make him like his other sons.

‘He is not good at school, but that does not mean he is not worthy,’ Kei was saying. ‘He is kind and honest. The post master in town promised to employ him if you agree. He can work from this spring when he finishes school. He will be able to have a contented and respectable life.’

Although Kei did not name him, Rinji was in her mind.

As for Hideto, Kei said, he was a bright boy. If it was difficult to send him to university, he could go to military college or naval college. They were free.

‘It does not matter if we have to sell our land now,’ she went on. ‘Kitani village is too small for our children. They should go out, and get their places in the wider world. Your ancestors would be proud of you if you spend what they passed on to you for the sake of the people around here.’

‘Oho!’ Tei-ichi stared at his wife. If Haruko had been present, she would have understood that Yasuharu’s ambition had inspired Kei. ‘You have grown to be a great woman.’ Tei-ichi disguised his surprise by teasing.

‘Oh, no,’ Kei replied modestly. ‘I am just repeating something Yasuharu san told me the other day.’

Tei-ichi Shirai’s campaign had hardly any opposition, particularly after Shobei offered his wholehearted support. Shobei’s trust in the Shirais as a mainstay for his family, expressed before his son’s marriage, had been fulfilled.

Tei-ichi was busier and within a few years had risen to the position of Chairman of the Assembly.

In the spring, Masakazu started to work at the post office. Kei bought him the first bicycle in the village. On the morning of his first day, she lit new candles in the recess where the ancestral name tablets were placed. She made Masakazu sit by her and both of them prayed.

‘I thanked our ancestors that you have grown up to be a fine man,’ she said. ‘I am sure they are very proud of you.’ She handed him his lunch box. She stood at the gate and watched him ride away until he waved at her and turned a corner.

The villagers were getting used to hearing the bell of the bicycle through the early morning mist, and a cheerful ‘Good morning.’ ‘Kuma san, if you want to write to your son again, I’ll do it for you. Come to the post office.’ ‘Thank you very much, Masakazu dansama. I’ll come to see you tomorrow, if it’s all right with you.’ Watching his disappearing back, they would say, ‘The young dansama of the Shirais are all hard-working and well educated.’ Kei’s plan was successful.

‘It is better to be a chicken’s head than an ox’s tail.’ Kei was breezy when talking to Ayako about her younger brother. ‘He is respected now and appreciated. He would have been miserable among scholars.’

‘What does that mean, obahsama?’ Haruko asked, laughing. ‘Why is he a chicken’s head?’

Kei was serious. ‘It means, it is much better to know one’s place than to hang at the bottom of more able people and be undistinguished. Remember it. It is an important lesson in life.’

As for Hideto, Kei was confident and hardly worried about her youngest son. He was now a boarder at a school in town. Although he was mischievous, he was popular among his friends. Kei secretly believed that he had the potential to become a great man. He would be a hero among heroes, she thought. The school tolerated most of his adventures and he was given only minor punishments.

It was mere boyish misbehaviour. On winter evenings, when the boys were hungry, the vendors came around calling, ‘Baked sweet potatoes! Baked sweet potatoes!’, or, ‘Buckwheat noodles. Hot noodles!’, over the school walls. The vendors had earthen barrels with burning charcoal on a cart, and the sweet potatoes were hooked and baked inside. It was always Hideto who had to go and buy them for everyone, as he was the best able to climb up on the high wall of the boarding house.

One night, as Hideto carried a hot newspaper bag and jumped down into the school premises, a teacher was waiting for him. He was also involved in many fights, mostly defending weak boys from bullies. All the incidents were duly reported to his parents and they both ignored them.

‘He has already been punished at school,’ Tei-ichi would say. ‘Leave him. If he is still like that when he is eighteen, then, I will disown him.’ Kei secretly loved these stories which she thought gallant and fun. But when he participated in a strike against the school authorities, the matter could not be left unattended. It was an incident concerning a young history teacher. He was enthusiastic about democracy and freedom and excited the boys with an idealism bordering on anti-imperialism and anti-militarism.

This was at a time when twelve people had been sentenced to death just for being accused of planning the assassination of the Emperor. Socialism was a dangerous word. The Military Police were increasing their influence. Although Hideto was not a senior pupil or the main agitator, taking part in the strike was judged to be a grave offence. Tei-ichi was not only Chairman of the Assembly but also by then the head of the parents’ association of the school. The school hesitated to publicise his son’s misconduct. If it was known that Hideto was treated generously because he was Dr Shirai’s son, Tei-ichi’s name would be tarnished. On the other hand, if Hideto was either suspended or expelled from school, it would affect his future.

Kei visited the headmaster, the deputy headmaster, the class teacher, and all the other teachers, even the kendo instructor, and apologised to each one. She was the wife of the Chairman of the Prefectural Assembly and a doctor who was widely known and respected. Her family was also closely connected with the Miwas, but she humbly and politely asked everybody to forgive him as in future he would be strictly supervised. All the teachers sympathised with Kei. She was admired as ‘a very accomplished lady’.

‘What has he done?’ Haruko asked Kei.

‘Boys get passionate about new ideas. That is the way they learn. Only those who are stupid never get into trouble when they are young, but only stupid ones go on being trouble after they grow up,’ Kei said.

‘What trouble, obahsama?’

‘Oh, politics. Something that we women do not have to understand.’

And it was not long before Hideto proved himself worthy of his mother’s efforts.

The summer holiday came and Yasuharu returned home. He brought with him a friend who was a paediatrician. The children were told to call him Dr Komoto but, in spite of the formal address, he was soon joining in with wrestling, games and other lively activities. Haruko’s English alphabet progressed from ‘apple’ to ‘pen’ with Dr Komoto’s help.

The days passed, happy and uneventful, until the day that Yasuharu, Dr Komoto, Hideto and Shuichi decided to go sea fishing. Early in the morning, they left, both Yasuharu and Dr Komoto in yukata, cotton kimono, and Hideto and Shuichi in cotton shorts, all wearing straw hats. The day promised to be fine. They carried rice balls that Shige had made. The rice balls had cooked seaweed inside instead of the usual pickled plums. Pickled plums prevented the rice from going sour but, if taken fishing, Shige insisted, there would not be any catch.

‘Oh? That won’t do, Shige san. Thank you,’ Dr Komoto said politely. Yasuharu just opened his mouth and laughed noiselessly.

At the shore, a fisherman was waiting for them with a small boat. He said, ‘It is windy further offshore. Come home early before the weather changes.’ But the sky was deep blue and the temperature was rising. The sun was already strong. They got into the boat and the fisherman pushed it out into the water.

‘Shu-chan, you must get as tanned and strong as Hideto,’ Yasuharu said. Yasuharu, Dr Komoto and Hideto rowed the boat in turn until they were a long way from the shore. They were all happily fishing when Dr Komoto said, ‘Oh?’ and looked up at the sky.

The wind was getting cool and he thought he felt a raindrop on his face. But he did not pay further attention as Yasuharu and Hideto did not seem to be worried. They were brought up in the area, he thought, they should know. But although they had grown up near the sea, neither Yasuharu nor Hideto had much knowledge or experience of boats. Yasuharu looked up at the sky as large drops of rain started to come down on them.

‘It will pass,’ he said, and asked Shuichi if he was cold. Shuichi was catching the rain water running down his cheeks by sticking out a lower lip. He shook his head. The boat began to sway and he was a little afraid but he trusted his uncles and was quietly holding on to the side of the boat.

As the wind rose, wave after wave crashed into the small boat.

‘Hideto, scoop up the water in the boat with your hat,’ Yasuharu said and Dr Komoto and Hideto started to bail out water.

‘Shu-chan, you help us, too,’ Hideto said and Shuichi joined them. The boat was lifted up by a big wave and crashed down and reeled round. Despite all their efforts, they were soon ankle-deep in water.

‘Shu-chan, come here,’ Yasuharu said, and pulled him to his side.

‘Which way is the wind coming from?’ Dr Komoto said. In the middle of the storm, Hideto thought the question was silly and inconsequential, but then it occurred to him that Dr Komoto might be trying to compose himself.

‘It seems to be blowing us along the shore,’ he answered.

At home, the three girls were sitting around Kei sewing dolls’ clothes. Ayako was not at home, having gone to a relative’s wedding party. The pieces of cloth the girls were given were mostly dark-coloured cotton with stripes. Silk remnants were kept to make cushions for guests or sleeveless tops, but Kei gave them each a small piece of brightly coloured, patterned silk. The material was carefully smoothed with a flat-iron. Kei had taken it out from a chest of drawers with large iron handles.

As they all bent down around Kei’s sewing box, Tei-ichi said from the verandah, ‘Has Yasu not come home yet?’

‘No, he has not come home,’ Kei said.

Tei-ichi’s voice was heard calling Matabei. The girls had not noticed but the raindrops were causing ripples on the surface of the pond. Plantain leaves swayed and rustled. Kei said, ‘You stay here,’ to the girls and hurried to join Tei-ichi.

Matabei ran out barefoot into the rain towards the sea wearing a waterproof cape.

‘Yasuharu is with them. They will be all right,’ Tei-ichi said, and went back to his study. The rain was getting harder.

The girls felt restless and put away their sewing. Shige came into the kitchen and started to make a fire in the range. The dark and damp kitchen became steamy and hot. Shige said, ‘Don’t worry. Mata will soon bring them back.’

While it was getting dark inside the house, it was not yet dark on the sea, but the rain was coming down harder and the bottom of the boat was full of water. The straw hats were no longer useful. Many times the boat nearly capsized and Yasuharu realised that it would soon start to sink.

‘Hideto,’ Yasuharu called. ‘You are the best swimmer in the prefecture, aren’t you?’

Hideto said, ‘Yes,’ but the sea around them was so different from the sea on the day of the swimming competition.

‘Hideto,’ Yasuharu called again, keeping his balance. ‘Carry Shuichi on your back and swim back to the shore.’

Hideto could not believe what he was hearing. It was true he was the best swimmer in the prefecture. For two years he had come first at all the prefecture swimming competitions for the adults. He had never felt tired, even after swimming a long-distance race. He remembered the sight of many heads behind him all in a line as though they were strung together by a long string, and the roll of drums from boats with flags bobbing up and down. The sky was blue and there were spectacular summer clouds. There was also sweet crystallised sugar thrust from the boats in a long-handled spoon.

Hideto was about to say, ‘I cannot do it. It is not possible,’ when his brother ordered him with all the authority of an eldest brother. ‘Don’t think. Just do it. We have to save Shu-chan ... Look there!’ Yasuharu had seen the faint glimmer of lights.

Yasuharu untied his sash and passed it across the little boy’s goose-pimpled back, under his arms and around Hideto’s chest. He crossed it in front, wound it back and tied it securely.

‘Go!’ Hideto jumped into the water. Even though he was the best swimmer in the prefecture, for the sixteen-year-old, an eight-year-old boy was heavy. Tossed about by the waves Hideto swam. Shuichi was holding on to him tightly.

At the shore, a big fire had been built. Women and children were out, and as the children ran near the fire, mothers and grandmothers scolded them. Men were calling, ‘Shuichi dansama, Yasuharu dansama, Hideto dansama, Doctor Komoto,’ in turn.

Somebody shouted, ‘Oh, there’s Hide dansama and Shu dansama!’ Hideto appeared, staggering in the light of the torches, supported by a group of men who had formed a search party down the coast. One of them carried Shuichi.

Yasuharu and Dr Komoto arrived a few minutes later. They had abandoned the sinking boat shortly after Hideto.

Hideto was sitting in front of the fire, hugging his knees. Kei stroked his back. It was the first time Haruko had seen her grandmother cry. She was saying, ‘Oh, well done. You are brave. Well done,’ with a tear-stained face.

They could not find Tei-ichi. Only Matabei knew where he was. He was standing alone on a cliff overlooking the sea, but Matabei did not tell anyone.

The next day, Tei-ichi called Hideto. He said, ‘I will give this to you,’ and gave him an antique sword forged by a famous swordsmith. It was the most precious treasure belonging to the family.

7

The Flood

Autumn came earlier than usual that year. Haruko was now fourteen years old. The rain which started in September continued without stopping into the middle of October. At first the Kitaka river had roared and foamed, swollen by the heavy rains. The volume of water increased until, for the past few days, the river was lapping at the top of the dyke. The water looked ominously quiet. It was dark and flowing swiftly.

The dyke had contained the river for as long as the villagers could remember. People stood by the water and shook their heads. That day, the river was higher than ever before. It was already overflowing here and there in thin streams, and crabs were crawling around.

The wind got up in the afternoon. People finished work early and secured their shutters and doors. When Masakazu arrived home and put away his bicycle in the old stable, he saw his father washing his feet by the well.

‘Oh, Masa, you crossed the river all right?’ his father asked.

‘I came home over the New Bridge, otohsan. Good job it was finished,’ Masakazu replied. The concrete bridge connecting Kitani village to the town had been finished earlier in the year. Shobei had donated generously to its completion.

‘Ah, the New Bridge will be all right, but it may be only a matter of hours until the dyke bursts. If that happens, several houses in the village will go under water.’ Then Tei-ichi said, ‘Masa, when you go in, ask someone to bring a towel out for me.’

Almost at the same time, Kei appeared with a towel and a pair of dry geta. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t realise you were home.’

‘Have you seen the river?’ Kei asked both of them, as she squatted and dried Tei-ichi’s feet.

‘I was telling Masa that houses of the Miwa tenant farmers might be flooded.’

‘Use this.’ Kei stood up and handed the towel to Masakazu. She asked both of them, ‘Shall I send Mata san to get the women and children from those houses?’

‘That might be an idea. Masa, you go and alert the youth club members. ‘We’ll send Yohei and Mata to the three houses nearest the river.’

‘Yes, otohsan.’ Masakazu went back to the stable and brought out the bicycle he had just put away.

‘Yohei.’ Tei-ichi called Shige’s husband. ‘Go to Kawabata and bring people from those three houses nearest the river. Take Mata with you.’

‘O’Shige san,’ Kei was heard calling. ‘Cook plenty of rice and make rice balls for the people who are coming. We need lots of hot water as well.’

‘Can we help make rice balls?’ The girls came to the kitchen.

‘Yes, yes, we need all the help we can get. Ask your okahsan to find you aprons.’

‘Oji-isama, can I go with Mata san to the river to help people?’ Shuichi asked.

‘Oh, yes, you can go, but stay with Mata and do not go near the river, do you understand?’

Watching the boy running after Matabei, Kei remarked, ‘He is getting clever. He knows I wouldn’t say “yes”.’

‘He is ten. You shouldn’t pamper him.’

Kei was quiet but she still shuddered when she remembered how close he had come to drowning.

As the darkness fell, the rain beat down harder. Masakazu came home and was going out again.

Tei-ichi called him back. ‘How is it? Do the upstream villages seem to be holding all right?’

‘So far we have not seen any sign of disaster, otohsan, but I don’t think some of the bridges are strong enough. I just came back to leave my bicycle. The wind is so strong that it’s difficult to ride.’ He called out. ‘Okahsan, I am going with the others to help the villagers upstream. Don’t worry about me, if I am late,’ but his voice was almost drowned in the torrents of rain.

‘I hope Shu-chan is all right,’ Kei said to Ayako, peering outside.

‘He is not stupid, okahsan, and Mata san will not let him out of sight,’ Ayako replied. ‘Besides, although he wouldn’t go up, the top of the dyke is quite wide. People can’t fall into the river easily. You know very well no one ever has.’

‘No, but he must be soaking wet. You get his dry clothes ready and let him have a hot bath when he comes home.’

Kei peered outside once more before she went back to the kitchen.

The wind became stronger towards midnight and brought more rain. About fifteen people including children were evacuated from their homes and came to the Shirais’. Kei did not hesitate to open up the rooms reserved for guests and special occasions and the whole household tried to settle down for an uneasy night. Outside the wind was howling.

It was about four o’clock when the rain began to subside. Once the storm had passed, the dawn brought a beautiful day such as people had not seen for a month. Shafts of golden light shone through clouds. The white feathers of pigeons on the still-wet roof were pink in the sunlight. Sparrows chattered. The hills in the distance were the colours of autumn and the leaves left on the trees were washed clean and shining. Masakazu arrived home caked with mud and without shoes. He had a bath and breakfast, and left for work. At every house, people were hanging their clothes out to dry.

A large area of the rice paddies was flooded and the water stretched far, reflecting the white clouds in the serene sky. Big trees had been washed downriver and lay sideways here and there gathering debris. Upstream the damage was considerable but in Kitani village, two houses had gone and there were no human casualties.

In the afternoon, a servant arrived from the Miwas, and Kei and Ayako realised that they had not sent a message of inquiry to Shobei and his wife. The Miwas’ house was on high ground and there was no cause for worry, but it would have been a matter of courtesy to have contacted them.

‘Oh, Zen san,’ Ayako said. ‘How are otohsama and okahsama? We are sorry we haven’t been in touch with you yet. We had so many people last night, and we are still in a muddle.’

‘They are all right, young okusama, although dansama seems to have caught a chill. He says he will come to see you tomorrow. He wanted to know if you need a hand.’

Ayako remembered that whenever there was anything unusual, however insignificant, Shobei would call on the Shirais himself.

‘Is otosahma all right?’

‘He says you should not worry.’

The day before, when the wind had been getting stronger, Rinji had called in to see if his parents needed any help. Seeing that everything had been in order, he had had a cup of tea and left soon afterwards. Shobei had stayed home and, after supper, had gone out without anyone noticing. Later when his wife had realised that he was not in his study, she had not been too concerned. He had a group of friends with whom he played the game of Go and she had thought he might have gone out to meet them, although it had not seemed like a good night to go visiting.

‘Actually, dansama walked upstream to see how his land and farmers were. I don’t think he realised how quickly the dyke would burst there. He was trapped in the flood till the youth club members rescued him early in the morning.’

Ayako frowned. She excused herself and quickly changed her kimono. To Kei she said, ‘I know he would come himself unless he felt really ill. I will just go and see how he is.’

‘Take your overnight things with you and stay there tonight. I don’t want you to come back in the dark.’

After Ayako left, Kei spent the afternoon alone worrying. She had never known Shobei to be ill. He was vigorous and had not shown much sign of ageing, but she realised that he was in his late seventies. Time had passed quickly.