Light and dark

[54]

OTHER DINERS, smaller groups than theirs and, accordingly, relatively quiet, glanced from time to time at O-Nobu’s table where, as though the theater had been entirely forgotten, an apparently relaxed conversation was proceeding. The moment arrived when those who had purposely ordered a light meal to save time were preparing to leave even before they had their coffee, and still one new dish after the other was being laid out in front of O-Nobu. They could hardly throw their napkins down in the middle of the meal. Nor, it appeared, were they inclined to rush. They took their time, feeling that they had come to the theater to enjoy themselves more than to see a play.

“Has it started?”

Having glanced around the dining room, suddenly quiet, Uncle Okamoto posed the question to a white-jacketed waiter.

“The curtain just went up.”

“Let it! Just now our mouths are more important than our eyes.”

O-Nobu’s uncle commenced at once an attack on a chicken thigh with the skin still on it. Across the table, Yoshikawa appeared largely unconcerned with what was happening on stage. Following Okamoto’s lead, ignoring the subject of the play, he spoke of food.

“You still revel in what you eat — Mrs. Okamoto, have you heard the story about your husband riding piggyback on a foreigner in the days when he ate more and was even fatter than he is now?”

O-Nobu’s aunt shook her head. Yoshikawa posed Tsugiko the same question. Tsugiko hadn’t heard either.

“I’m not surprised. It’s not exactly an admirable story, so I suppose he’s been hiding it.”

“What story?”

Looking up from his plate, Okamoto eyed his friend warily. Madam Yoshikawa spoke up from the sidelines.

“You must have been too heavy for the foreigner and crushed him.”

“At least that would have given him something to brag about. He was clinging to that big man’s shoulders for dear life, in the middle of a London crowd, with everybody staring at him with weird expressions on their faces. So he could see a parade.”

O-Nobu’s uncle had yet to crack a smile.

“What an imagination! When was this supposed to have happened?”

“At the coronation of Edward VII. You were standing in front of Mansion House to watch the parade, but since we weren’t in Japan everybody was taller than you, and you were so distressed you asked the proprietor of your boarding house who had come along with you if you could climb on his shoulders — that’s what I heard.”

“Balderdash! You’re confusing me with someone else. I know a fellow who did ride piggyback but it wasn’t me — it was that ‘Monkey.’”

Uncle Okamoto was unmistakably in earnest about his explanation; the sudden, vehement utterance of the word “Monkey” brought a laugh from everyone at once.

“Of course. Now I can see it. No matter how gigantic the English are, there was something not quite right about the picture with you in it. But Monkey was an absolute dwarf.”

Whether he was just pretending to be mistaken or had actually been ignorant of the facts, Yoshikawa sounded convinced at last, repeating the party in question’s nickname, Monkey, as a spur to the hilarity of the assembled company.

The question Madam Yoshikawa posed was part curiosity and part impatience.

“So who in the world was Monkey?”

“No one you would know.”

“Madam needn’t worry in the slightest. Even if he were here at the table he’s the sort of person who wouldn’t mind if we came right out and called him Monkey to his face. Besides, he’d be calling me Piggy in the same spirit.”

From start to finish, O-Nobu was unable to secure for herself a portion of this meandering conversation that should have been her due as a member of the party. An opportunity to recommend herself to Madam Yoshikawa failed to present itself no matter how long she waited. Madam paid no attention to her. More properly, she avoided her. It was to Tsugiko in particular, seated two places away, that she addressed herself. Her efforts to draw her out for even just a minute were distinctly visible. Tsugiko, unable to take advantage of these attempts, appeared annoyed rather than grateful, and each time she displayed her annoyance openly to the table, O-Nobu, always inclined to compare herself with her cousin, felt a ripple of envy in her heart.

If I were in her position …

The thought occurred to her frequently during the meal. Afterward, she secretly lamented Tsugiko’s lack of worldliness. In the end, as always, thinking how pitiful she was, she felt disdain.