The Crane Pavillion

30

He strove for patience. Dying was harder than anything he had ever done before. The long periods of pain and even longer stretches of feeling the fires of hell consuming him must be borne if he was to accomplish this final task. As soon as he prevailed, they would be together again.

Life, it is said, is but a bridge of dreams linking two eternal worlds. He had nearly crossed his bridge of dreams and would soon be with Tamako.

And with Yori and Seimei. What joy to see old Seimei again!

And so he was patient.

Sometimes he seemed to move along the dark path expeditiously, but then the voices returned. He tried to ignore them, but the devils with their knives started their work again, and pain racked him. At those times, he plunged into an abyss of terrors. The darkness was impenetrable, and he floundered about, calling Tamako’s name. But no answer came.

How much farther to the other side? When would he cross into that other land, the land of the blessed, the islands where Tamako dwelled?

In the end, he failed. The voices became louder and more insistent until they broke through the darkness and he woke to the dream again.

“Drink, sir!”

“Sir, can you hear me?

“Help me roll him over.”

That one brought back the pain, and he moaned.

“Sir, it’s the doctor. He’s taking a look at your wounds. It will be over in a moment.”

It was not over in a moment. The fools, he thought, they won’t let a man die in peace.

“How are you feeling, my friend?”

Someone was sobbing as he asked this stupid question that deserved no answer.

In the end, they left him alone, and he drifted off again.

*

The next time he woke to the sound of rain. It was a soothing sound, and he felt cool after the hellish fires he had passed through. He lay quite still, his eyes closed, and listened to the splashing of the water falling from the eaves to the boards of the veranda. Mingling with that louder music, was a distant soft watery gurgling, rippling, thrumming, and rushing. Steady rain pattered on the surface of the small pond, a million drips of water drummed on wet leaves and fell down to the earth, and the trees sighed with the pleasure of all this moisture.

Dreams are seductive, and so is life!

And he was thirsty.

After a moment’s hesitation, he opened his eyes. He was in his own room in bed. The light was dim, but that was because it was raining outside and all but one shutter was closed against the weather. The open shutter was in the far corner. Through the narrow aperture he could see a silvery light, the light of a cloudy day reflected in a million raindrops and watery surfaces. It shimmered and was beautiful.

But he was very thirsty, and reluctantly his eyes let go of the shimmering light to search for something to drink. There was nothing, and he was alone. Again after due consideration, he decided to call out. His voice was a mere croak, so weak it would not have alerted a dozing companion. He tried again, and some of the hoarseness improved but he was still too weak to make himself heard. Deciding he needed more rest, he went back to sleep.

*

He became aware that he was no longer alone because he could hear breathing and an occasional rustling of fabric. He tried to guess who might be with him but failed and opened his eyes again. A lamp was lit behind a screen and cast a faint golden light. Nighttime.

The other person was a black silhouette, a male, his head sunk forward until his chin rested on his chest, and his breathing was slow and deep. He was asleep.

Memory stirred. Poor Tora, worn out with watching over him, had fallen asleep. He did not have the heart to wake him by asking for water.

But lying still was impossible. He was on his side and his shoulder hurt. He let himself roll on his back and almost cried out at the sudden pain. As it was, he could not avoid a soft moan.

Tora’s head jerked up, he looked around the room, then peered at him. They made eye contact, and Tora cried out, “Are you awake, sir?” He sounded astonished and put his hand to Akitada’s brow, then he jumped up to move the screen. The light made Akitada blink.

He croaked a little peevishly, “There’s something on my back and it hurts.” His voice was still weak and slurred a little. Also, his mouth was incredibly dry. “Is there any water?”

Tora burst into a shout of laughter and began to dance about like some lunatic. Akitada waited it out. Presumably playing nursemaid had been hard on the fellow.

Tora eventually stopped and came to kneel beside him again. He asked anxiously, “How are you, sir?”

“Thirsty!”

“Thirsty!” Tora grinned again and clapped his hands. “Thirsty!” he cried. “He wakes up as if nothing happened and says he’s thirsty! What do you think of that?”

“I think you should get me some water,” Akitada growled.

“Oh! Oh, sorry, sir. Right away.” Tora turned aside for a pitcher and poured, then held a cup to his lips, supporting his head with one hand.

Akitada drank, said, “More!” and drank that also. Then he sighed and let his head fall back. “What’s the matter with me?”

“You’ve been stabbed, sir. Don’t you remember?”

“Stabbed?”

“In an alley behind the house belonging to Kanemoto’s woman.”

“Phoenix.” Memory returned in a rush. He struggled to rise and Tora had to restrain him.

“Don’t move, sir. You’ll open the wounds.”

Akitada groaned, partially from the pain on his back and partially because he had been so close, yet failed. “The trial?” he asked. “They found her guilty?” And then Tora’s presence brought another question and a glimmer of hope, “You were released? And Saburo, too? What happened?”

Tora kept nodding and grinning. “They let me out since they didn’t have anything to hold me on. When Genba told me you had left the day before and not come back, I went looking for you and found you.”

Akitada was astonished. “How did you know where to go? I’d only just traced the infernal woman myself.” And the triumph of having done so had made him shockingly careless.

“The woman who runs the house Phoenix worked in told me. After that it was easy. Only I didn’t expect to find you near death in the alley.” Tora paused. “There’s more, sir, but I should go tell the others you’re awake. They’ve been grieving.”

Shame and gratitude overcame Akitada. “Yes, of course,” he said and watched Tora hurry out of the room before allowing the tears to come to his eyes. Fear of upsetting everyone again made him control himself after a moment. They would only be reassured if he behaved as normally as possible. He could indulge in emotion later when he was alone.

And what of having lost Tamako once again?

He relived for a moment the intense joy he had felt when he had thought of holding her in his arms, having her back, knowing they would never be parted again. He weighed this against the claims of the living and found he was willing to be alive.

That life was also filled with worries and fears did not seem to matter. He looked forward to being again among those he loved and to the challenges that lay ahead. He thought very briefly of the punishment he was likely to receive for having left his post in Kyushu, then put that thought aside.

They came in, one by one, tentative smiles on their faces: Hanae was first, asking, “Is it really true? You’re better? Oh, that’s wonderful? What can I get you? Something to drink? A little broth? There’s a fine fish broth simmering in the kitchen. Could you sip a little of that?”

Akitada smiled at her. “Tora’s given me some water, but I’m still very thirsty.”

“Oh, sir!” she cried, overcome by his reply. She found the water and his cup, filled it, and brought it to him.

He drank, thanked her, then said, “I would like a little of that broth, I think. And maybe a small piece of fish.”

“You shall have them right away,” she cried happily and ran to get the food

The others pressed around him then, Genba, wiping away tears, Saburo having trouble controlling his rolling eye, the boy, grinning widely, the cook and Tamako’s maid who brought Yasuko and Yoshi.

Akitada extended his hand toward his children. They came and knelt beside him.

Yasuko said earnestly, “I’m very glad you’re better, father. Were you very ill?”

He smiled at her. “Never mind that now. You see I’m getting better.”

Yoshi said nothing, but he smiled shyly and extended a sheet of paper. Akitada took it, saw it was covered with large and lopsided characters that seemed to form a letter addressed to him. Yoshi was five and had been practicing his characters under the instruction of Kobe’s tutor. Clearly he had made progress.

But Akitada was getting tired again. “Thank you,” he told Yoshi, tucking the letter inside his robe, and touching the boy’s head. “I’ll read it later.”

He was rescued from doing more by Hanae who bustled in with a tray of food. The others departed, wishing him a speedy recovery. Akitada made an effort to sip some broth and eat a tiny bit of fish. Then he sighed and said, “Enough. Maybe later. Thank you, Hanae.”

In the end, only Tora remained. “You’ve had many visitors,” he informed him. “Lady Akiko was here every day and her husband came several times. And the superintendent checked on you many times, and your friend Nakatoshi was here also. Even his Excellency, the minister himself came to see how you were doing.”

Akitada nodded. “Any official messages?”

“No, sir, but I think the court has been notified of your condition.”

“What about the blind girl?” Akitada was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Tora grinned. “She’s free. The superintendent took that in hand himself. He ordered a search for Phoenix and Kanemoto and then attended the trial. He told the judge to release Sachi. The judge was furious, but he had no choice. The crowd got angry when he tried to refuse. I wish I could’ve seen it. It must’ve been something. And then they caught the gangster and his girlfriend. She thought the police would let her go, if she told them about Kanemoto killing the gambler Hankei. That’s when Kanemoto informed them that she’d killed the moneylender. Seems she owed him a lot of gold. A fine pair!”

But Akitada’s eyelids had got too heavy and he was already asleep.