The Tree of Perseverance, page 20
Tom put me down on the bed with what felt like exaggerated care. He inspected the tiny screws that held my brace in place, and I watched curiously as he began to turn the first of the many screws, holding them delicately in his fingernails. I noticed absently that they were cut very short and were very clean.
As the first screw came out, I knew that nothing at all mattered to me other than that I had done no damage to my leg. If my leg was twisted out of shape again, then all my plans were ash. If I could not even walk without people staring at me in sympathy—or worse, turning their heads politely away at the sight of my deformity—I was tied to Ian. Probably forever. My life could have no other purpose. I knew that nobody would trust an obviously deformed woman to heal them. Why should they? Who would ever believe they could be helped by somebody who could not even heal themselves?
I groaned aloud at the thought, and Tom raised his head and looked at me anxiously.
“Am I hurting you? I’m sorry, but I must get all these screws undone before I can attempt to take this thing off your leg. It’s my fault. I should have spoken to Ian earlier, told him to allow you to walk without it. It could always go back on if it was still needed.”
I shook my head wordlessly. If the brace left my leg other than for sleeping and bathing, I would never allow it to restrict me again. No matter how difficult I found it to walk without it, I would never be able to face dragging its weight around, being enveloped by its cold, uncaring embrace day in and day out. It made me ugly. It tied me to the earth. I could not believe that Tom would understand that, so I shrugged and tried to make light of the situation.
“It’s not your fault. Not at all. It was an accident. I turned too quickly.”
“Fortunate that I was here, then. That’s the last screw out. Keep still while I pull the brace off for you.”
I held my breath as the clumsy, heavy brace slid off my leg. Tom threw it on the floor with contempt, almost as if he hated it as much as I did.
Now that the moment had come, I was almost petrified with fear. I tried to move my leg but could not so much as wiggle a toe. I felt my face contort as I did my best to hold back tears. I was paralyzed again. I had endured so much already; to be struck down again was too much for me to bear. My spirit died within me.
I whimpered at the unfairness of it. Just one small step and I was once more doomed to be a helpless cripple.
Tom’s whole attention appeared to be on my leg. I was grateful he had not seen me giving way to despair.
“I don’t think there is any major damage.”
I stared at the top of his bowed head incredulously. Was he lying to be kind? I would much prefer it if he told me the truth.
“I can’t feel my leg,” I choked out.
Tom put his hands on each side of my knee. His body shielded my leg from my sight, but I could feel his touch. A moment later, hope spurted into my thoughts. I could feel him touching me! Surely, that must mean something.
“Your knee is quite straight. Your father told me how badly disfigured it was after your illness. I guess it must be far, far better now than it was then.” Tom raised his head and smiled. “I do not have Ian’s skill in healing, but when I was younger, I was quite athletic. We had no doctor on hand to cure our injuries in those days, so my friends and I learned how to help each other. I certainly have enough skill to massage your leg for you. I think you may have trapped a nerve when you fell. A massage will help. Will you allow me?”
Without waiting for a response, Tom put his thumbs on each side of my knee and pressed firmly. I gasped as his touch caused me intense pain. He ignored my cry and circled his thumbs carefully down my leg and then back up again, pausing to rub his palms on my knee.
Warmth flooded into my leg wherever his hands touched. I was trembling with anticipatory fear as I tried to force my leg to move. The leg stayed where it was, but at least I was able to jerk my foot. Tom paused and nodded at me encouragingly. I cried out loud with joy when I finally managed to raise my leg slightly from the bed.
Without warning, a sensation as if ants were crawling under my skin erupted all over my leg. At the same time, my flesh tingled unpleasantly. I pushed Tom aside to rub frantically at my thighs, where the sensation was the most painful.
Tom sat back and watched me with a smile of satisfaction on his face. It took some time for the pain to subside, but after what felt like a very long time, I lied back on the bed and took enormous pleasure in cautiously swinging my foot back and forth. I could move my leg. I was not crippled.
My joy was so great I wanted to sing. Instead, I spoke softly.
“Thank you.” Two, simple words that I must have used a thousand times before, but never had I meant them so truly. “I thought my leg was paralyzed again. I thought I would never be able to walk properly again.”
I reacted impulsively, throwing my arms around Tom’s shoulders and pulling myself up to him, burrowing my head into his shoulders. I felt him stiffen and at once I was appalled at my own actions. What must he think of me? Even a yujo, a woman of pleasure, would surely have been more restrained. I pulled away.
Before I could apologize, Tom grabbed my wrists. He held me in place effortlessly, a hand’s width away from him. He stared at me intently. I was as transfixed by his gaze as a rabbit caught by a snake and could not look away. Hard as I tried, I could not understand the expression in his eyes.
“Do you believe in fate, Mi? That there is something that rules all our destinies?”
“Of course,” I agreed promptly.
I am a Buddhist, if not a very devoted adherent. Naturally, I am aware of the teaching of karma, the law of cause and effect that can only be altered by an individual’s adherence to the eightfold path taught by Buddha. Yet, even as I thought it, I knew instinctively that this was not what Tom was talking about.
“Then you must know that some things are meant to be. That we foolish humans cannot argue with fate.”
I wet my lips with my tongue. My joy at discovering my leg was not crippled again was beginning to be tempered by common sense. I was not frightened. This man was Tom, our benefactor, not some stranger who meant me harm. But I was troubled. I was alone in the house with him—not just in the house, but in my own bedroom. Despite that, I was oddly reluctant to tell Tom to leave.
His massage had been deep. It had left me stimulated and relaxed at the same time. I reflected that I had never experienced as much enjoyment as this all the times I had laid beside my husband’s rigid form, our ridiculous nightshirts forming an impenetrable barrier between our bodies.
Tom’s hands had been warm and strong on my skin. So close, his clothes smelled faintly of jako. Unlike most gaijin, the odor of his flesh was sweet and fresh, as if he had just bathed. I could feel desire for me rising from him. I closed my eyes, reveling in the knowledge that he found me attractive. I wondered what his body would be like beneath his robe.
He was as tall as Ian, but where my husband was lanky to the extent that his arms and legs never seemed to be fully under his control, when I had hugged Tom, I had felt strong muscles beneath my touch. This was a man who had control of himself. Could I vanquish that control? I found the idea quite exciting.
I spoke softly. “Unless you are an adept of the eightfold path, it is not possible to change karma.”
His response puzzled me. It seemed to me that he was talking to himself rather than to me. “I should have known better. Right at the beginning, it was impressed on us time after time. Never ever get involved with anybody who has anything to do with your mission. That was why I was approached, of course. My masters knew my history, that I had neglected my betrothed in favor of business to the extent that she married somebody else, and that I had never been close to a woman after that. They saw me as a cold man. A man who could be trusted to follow orders rather than any personal inclination. Do you follow me, dear one?”
I could make no sense of anything he said except for the last two words. He had called me dear one; that was the only thing that mattered.
Without warning, I was overwhelmed with the knowledge of all that was wrong with my marriage to Ian. He did not love me, just as I did not love him. Oh, I had not expected love. Few Japanese brides would, and those that did were mostly disappointed. But to be ignored in my own marriage bed! To be told we were not married and that I was untouchable. Suddenly, I wondered if Ian spent his days in Edo with a yujo, a paid woman of pleasure, rather than making love to me.
The thought was so hurtful I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. Tom raised his hand to my hair and stroked it gently. The small tenderness was my undoing. Ian cared nothing for me. I was sure he was lying about the need for a priest to bless our union; it was an excuse. The reality was that he found me so unattractive that he could not bear to even touch me.
But Tom did not find me ugly. He wanted me. I could hear his breathing rasping hoarsely in his throat. The hand that caressed my hair was trembling. I remembered the pleasure Tengen had given to me so freely when we had made love, and I ached to feel wanted like that once more. Tom was staring at me intently, his expression questioning.
I did not want to lose him, to throw away this moment. But there was something I had to know first.
“Tom, are there any Christian priests in Edo?”
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Sand tickles my palm
As it trickles back to the
Earth. All else is lost.
I had expected Tom to be amused, or perhaps puzzled, by my question. To my astonishment, he answered me seriously.
“A Christian priest? You mean a Catholic priest?” I nodded. “Why? Why do you want to know?”
There was something so urgent in his voice that I blurted my answer without thinking. I looked away from Tom’s face so I would not see the pity in his expression when he heard my pathetic confession.
“Ian says we are not married in the eyes of his god, not until we are married by a Catholic priest. He tells me that there are no such priests here in Edo, or on the whole of Honshu for that matter. Because of that, he says we cannot come together as husband and wife.”
“Ian said that?”
I nodded, reluctant to speak, as I knew that my voice would betray my shame.
“Oh, Mi! What have I done to you? I am so very, very sorry. I had no idea.” Tom’s words amazed me. His voice shook, not with amusement, but deep concern. I risked a glance at his face and saw that it was contorted with what looked like pain. In spite of my own distress, I reached up and smoothed my fingertips across his lips, as if I could heal his hurt with my touch, just as he had done for me a few moments ago.
“You are sorry, Tom? But you have nothing to be sorry about.”
He took my fingers from his lips and kissed the tips. My hand tingled at his touch.
“It’s all my fault. Ian told me that he had fallen in love with you from the moment he first saw you. I told myself I should be delighted, that the match was perfect. I managed to put aside my own emotions, and when Ian finally said he wished to marry you, I brokered the match with your father.”
I thought he was about to say more, but when he simply stared at me, his expression imploring, I repeated my question. I knew something was very wrong here, but I would think about that later. Much later. First, I had to know if my husband had been lying to me, either by his words or his actions, for each and every day of my marriage.
“Tom, please tell me. Was Ian lying to me when he said we were not really married? And if that is so, is it true that there is not a single priest here in Edo—on the whole of Honshu Island—that could make us husband and wife in Ian’s eyes?”
“I will not lie to you, Mi. Ian is a deeply religious man. To him, no marriage service would be binding unless it was officiated by a Catholic priest.”
I closed my eyes as a dagger of pain slid into my heart. Ian had not lied to me, then. The pain increased as I understood that to my husband, his principles were far more important than how he felt about me.
“I see. Thank you for telling me that.” How dull my voice was. It showed none of my pain. I heard Tom speak as if from a long distance.
“But you asked me something more, and I must tell you that Ian is not telling you the whole truth. There have been a number of Catholic priests in Japan for some years. I am acquainted with two here in Edo, and I know of several more. The intention is to establish a Catholic church in Edo—in fact, building work has already begun. Out of the two priests I know, one would insist that you converted from Buddhism to Christianity before he would marry you and Ian. The other is far more liberal in his outlook—a decent donation for the new church would be more than enough to convince him that the marriage was an excellent idea.”
I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. I tried to breathe, but the air would not reach my lungs. I tried again and made a curious whistling noise. I held my hands out, palms up, in an attempt to show my bewilderment. Tom said nothing, and eventually I managed to whisper, “Why? Why has he lied to me? You said he loved me. I don’t believe that. If he loved me, then he would want me as his wife.”
“Whenever I asked him about you,” Tom looked as if he had bitten into a ripe orange only to find it sour, “he insisted that you were both very happy. I had no reason to doubt him. Is it possible that you are happy, Mi-chan?”
I almost laughed in his face. “Would you be happy with a wife who was not your wife?” I demanded bitterly. “A wife who lay at your side every night, refusing to be touched? Would that make you happy, Tom?”
“I am sorry. So very sorry.” Tom sounded helpless. My frustration boiled over finally. What use was regret to me?
“Thank you for your sympathy,” I said levelly. “But I do not want it. Ian obviously does not find me attractive. Do you, Tom?” I leaned away from him deliberately. If he lied, I would see it in his eyes.
“I should never have allowed Ian to marry you.” Tom’s voice was the harsh caw of a raven. “I should have married you myself. If Ian is a fool, then I am a worse one for letting you go.”
He was telling me the truth. I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. I had no idea what he was talking about. Nor did I care.
Triumph surged in my belly. I closed the small space that separated us and kissed Tom softly, lingeringly, on his lips. I felt rather than heard the groan that rose from his throat.
As I parted his lips with my tongue, his arms slid around my shoulders. His fingers dug into my flesh so hard that it hurt, but the pain was delicious. I bit his lip in return, and Tom pulled away, throwing his head back with a wolf’s howl.
I ran my fingers beneath his robe, following the line of his breastbone. His chest was hairy, and I almost laughed in surprise. Tengen’s body and—from what I had seen of it—Ian’s were as bald as a bird’s egg. Did I like this? I decided that I did.
Tom obviously liked what I was doing. He grabbed my hand and pressed the palm hard against his chest, rubbing it back and forth. I took my hand away and traced it down toward his tree of flesh. I hesitated, wondering if Tom would stop me. When he made no move, I carried on until my fingers found the rearing head of his tree.
I was astonished by what my fingers discovered. I had seen men’s trees in my brothers’ shunga that were so monstrously large that they had made me giggle in disbelief. I had been relieved to find that Tengen’s tree was far more manageable. I had never seen Ian’s private parts. When, on our wedding night, I had dared to grope through the thick material of his nightgown, his tree had reared joyfully at my touch, but he had shaken off my hand in apparent horror, and I had been too hurt by his reaction ever to try and repeat my cautious fumblings. Even so, I was certain that Ian’s tree was a mere twig compared to what lay in my hand now.
Tom rolled over, holding me firmly at his side. “Where did you learn to kiss, dearest?” he murmured. “Not from Ian, I know that.”
“I had a lover.”
There had been too many lies already. I would not lie to Tom now. Absurdly, I blushed. Tengen and I had made love once; did that merit the grand title of “lover?”
“Who? Who was he?” Could it be possible that Tom was jealous? He sounded as if he was.
“He was my tutor. He taught me to read and write. He was also a Buddhist priest.” I would hold nothing back. I added, “We made love only once, but it was wonderful.”
“It must have been, for you to remember it so fondly. I can only hope that I will not prove to be a disappointment to you.”
I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to that, so instead, I rubbed my face against Tom’s cheek. It seemed to me that if he truly found me attractive, then it was time he lived up to his words. I felt him draw a shuddering breath.
He leaned over me and I thrust up against him, all thoughts of right and wrong flying away. He kissed my lips, then trailed his mouth down my neck. He pushed my kimono aside. I moaned with frustration as he fumbled with the knots that anchored my hadajuban in place. I tried to help, tugging at the knots myself, but Tom pushed my hand away and attacked the cords with his teeth. When they finally loosened, he snatched the silk aside and I lay naked and exposed to his gaze.
I wanted, desperately, for him to tell me he found me beautiful.
He did not.
Instead, he gave a quiet sigh and bent down to lick my nipple. The cool evening air made it pucker with delightful pain. I must have made a noise as Tom raised his head and looked at me for a long moment.
“I thought this day would never come, Mi,” he said huskily. “I was certain I had lost you when you married Ian. If it takes a fool to repeat their mistakes, then surely I am the world’s greatest idiot.”
