Memoirs Of A Geisha

se had smelled of smoke and pine, but ours smelled of her illness in a way I can't even bear to describe. Satsu was working in the village during the afternoon, so Mrs

the steam had risen from our pale skin as if we were two pieces of boiled radish. I found it hard to imagine that this woman, whose back I'd so

ng without my mother? Even if we did survive and Mr. Tanaka adopted us, would my own family cease to exist? Finally I decided Mr. Tanaka wouldn't adopt just my sister and me, but my father as well. He couldn't e

ehind me. It turned out to be Mr. Sugi-Mr. Tanaka's assistant-running up the path. When he reached me, he took a long while to catch his breath, huffing a

sister ... to come down to the

adn't gone out fishing that morning

ed. "Did Mr. Tanaka sa

chan," he told me. "Go

rime out of a rut in the wood with one of his fingernails. Satsu was putting slivers of charcoal

a wants Satsu-san and me t

ut blinked a few times, staring at the point where Satsu had been. Then he turned his eyes heav

e this trip to the village was any different from one she might have made the day before. She hadn't even bothered to clean the charcoal off her hands; while wiping her hair away she e

ly cold. I suppose this should have been my first clue that things weren't going to happen just the way I'd imagined. When he led us to his horse-dra

eem to notice. She climbed into the back of the wagon and sat down among the empty fish baskets, putting one of her hands flat onto the slimy planks. And then with that same hand, she wiped a fly from her face, leaving a shiny patch on

a word, until we topped the hill overlooki

tra

the skin being shed from a snake. I thought this was clever and tried explaining it to Satsu, but she didn't seem to care. Mr. Tanak

eren't headed in the directio

tanding beside a peculiarly narrow man wearing a stiff kimono. He had soft black hair, like a cat's, and held in one of his hands a cloth bag suspended from a string. He struck rne as out of place in Senzuru, particularly there

was Bekku. Mr. Bekku said nothing at all, but onl

om Yoroido. Would you like him to accompany you? He k

Mr. Bekku, wa

or myself. I decided Mr. Tanaka had been displeased by what Mrs. Fidget had told him about us, and that this curiously narrow man

g a pleasant smile, led Satsu and me some distance down the dirt platform. When

man; you must pay attention to what he says! If he tells you to crawl under the seat of the train, you'll do it. Understand?" From the expression on Mrs. Fidget's face, I knew I should answer her or she might hurt me. But I was in such shock I couldn't speak. And then just as I'd fear

more to say to these girls, say it while I'm standing

t the train is coming," Mrs. Fidget said. And it was true: I

stop before us. Mr. Bekku, in his stiff kimono, wedged himself between Satsu and me and led us by our elbows into the train car. I

"Well mee

t

yol

ven

eyol "Well

aka walking back toward his cart and Mrs. F

my sister said

anguish through the floor of the train if I could have. Because the

re we're going?"

ew what was happening. But, of course, I didn't. I asked the narrow man, Mr. Bekku, but he paid me no attention. He was still

stench, the

hurt her even more. In a moment Satsu's lips turned down like a baby's, and she began to cry. Even if she'd hit me and yelled at me, I wouldn't have ached as much as I did watching her w

Mr. Bekku

n of Senzuru seemed a remote, faraway place. As for Kyoto, it sounded as foreign to me as Hong Kong, or even New Yor

and pressed it into his mean little mouth without so much as looking at me, I felt as if I couldn't take another moment of torment. We got off the train at last in a large town, which I took to be Kyoto; but after a time another train pulled into the station, and

far as the base of hills in the distance. I could never have imagined a city so huge. Even to this day, the sight of streets and

ywhere in this big city unless it was in a rickshaw-which couldn't have been further from the truth. Perhaps fifteen or twenty of them sat pitched forward o

y thought I'd have run away if he'd let go of me a moment; but I wouldn't have. Wherever he was taking us, I preferred

. He was a good deal bonier under that kimono even than I suspected. We pitched bac

oving and then set off at a trot. After a block or two I worked up my cou

d reply, but after a moment

t a sob of my own when Mr. Bekku suddenly struck her, and she let out a loud gasp. I bit my lip and stopped myself so

photographs, but I remember being surprised at how . . . well, cruel, is the way they looked to me in my frightened state, as though they were designed more to hurt people than to help them. All my sens

er at Mr. Tanaka's house. Here, windows were lit along the buildings upstairs and down, and the people on the sidewalks stood under puddles of yellow glow. I could see pinpoints even at the far reaches of

e one continuous facade-which once again gave me the terrible feeling of being lost. I watched women in kimono rushing arou

ind me, and then as if the day hadn't been difficult enough, the worst thing of all happened. F

aid to her. "You'r

the next thing I knew my eyes had welled up with tears so much I could scarcely see. I felt myself being dragged backward by Mr. Bekku; I heard women's voices and

orn by the young bucktoothed geisha in Mr. Tanaka's village of Senzuru; but this one was a water blue, with swirling lines in ivory to mimic the current in a stream. Glistening silver trout tumbled in the current, and the surface of the water was ringed with gold wherever the soft green leaves of a tree touched it. I had no doubt the gown was woven of pure silk, and so was the obi,

his then. She was a petite woman; the top of her hairstyle reached no higher than Mr. Bekku's shoulder. I was so startled by her appearance that I forgot my

e out the garbage later?

was talking about me. Mr. Bekku said he

aid Hatsumomo. "But when I see filth on one

d knobby, like a bamboo pole, ap

her to walk-and crossed to a tiny cabinet on the wall. She took from it something that looked to me like a piece of flint, along with a rectangular stone like the kind fishermen use to sharpen their knives, and then stood behind Hatsumomo and struck the flint against the

he was worlds above the creature I'd seen in Senzuru a few weeks earlier. I decided she must be some sort of stage performer. We all watched her float away, and then Mr. Bekku handed me over to t

touching me. I even heard her shush up a maid who came from inside the house to speak with her. At length she

o different from the Japanese spoken in my village that I had a hard time understanding her. But in any case, hers were the kindest words anyone had said to me al

You're a lovely girl, aren't

ust be very old, because Auntie's hair, knotted tightly at the back

hat a cat might have crawled underneath it. The corridor between them opened onto the dark sky above, which gave me the feeling I was standing in something more like a miniature village than a house-especially since I could see several other small wooden buildings down in the courtyard at the end. I didn't know it at the time, but this was a very typical dwelling for the section o

were sliding doors with paper screens, as well as a staircase that seemed to climb straight up. One of these doors stood open, so that I was able to see a wood cabinet with a Buddhist altar. These elegant rooms turned out to be for the use of the family-and also Hatsumomo, even though, as I would come to understa

en bucket so heavy with water that she sloshed half of it onto the dirt floor. Her body was narrow; but her face was plump and almost perfectly round, so that she looked to me like a melon on a stick. She was straining to carry the bucket, and her tongue stuck out of her mouth just the way the stem comes out of the top of a pumpkin. As I soon learned, this was a habit of hers.

e she looked me up and down. I thought she might say something, but she just went on looking, as though she were trying to ma

arth did yo

er accent was as strange to me as everyone else's, I felt sure she wouldn

r girl my age," she said to me. But

a beautiful mossy look, with stepping-stones leading to a storehouse in the back; but it smelled horrible because of the toilets in the little shed along one si

ut it was certainly more elegant than anything I'd ever worn before. An old woman who turned out to be the cook came down into the corridor with sev

ur name yet. The last girl who came, Mother and Granny didn't like her, and she was here only a

f they don't want t

for you if th

'am . . . what

ng down the stairs in just a moment to look at you. And they'd better like what they see. Your job is to bow as low as you can, and don't look them in the eye. The older one, the one we call Granny, has never liked anyone in her

en came drifting out onto the walkway. I didn't dare look at them. But what I could see out of the corner of my eye made me think of two lovely bundles of s

for this was the name of the

ea," I heard an

k to be Mother's. "You don't have to drink it. A

ne," the old woman grumbled. I heard her take in a b

ok as a signal to bow. I got onto my knees and bowed so low, I could smell the m

loser. I want to h

stem made of bamboo. She set it down beside her on the walkway and then brought from the pocket of her sleeve a drawstring bag of silk, from which she removed a big pinch of tobacc

a spider's web. Her obi was every bit as astonishing to me. It was a lovely gauzy texture too, but heavier-looking, in russet and brown with gold threads woven through. The more I looked at her clothing, the less I was aware of standing there on that dirt corridor, or of wondering what had become of my sister-and my mother and father-and what would become of me. Every detail of this woman's kimono was enough to make me forget myself. And then I came upon a rude shock: for there above the collar of her elegant kimono was

aw to fall open like a trapdoor. And even though I knew I should at all costs look down again, her peculiar eyes were so shocking to me in their ugliness that I could do nothing but stand there staring at them. Instead of being white and clear, the

th seemed to be anchored in a little pool of blood at the gums. This was due to some sort of deficiency in Mother's diet over the past years, as I later learned; but I couldn't help feeling, the more I looked at her, that she was like a tree th

e you lo

at your kimono," I told her. "I don't

was a right answer-because she let out somethi

uing to cough, or laugh, I couldn't tell w

ma'

u did, that's

was at least as old as my father, but she looked as if she'd spent her years stewing herself into a state of concentrated meanness. Her gray hair made me think of a tangle of silk threads, for I could see right through

out again she mumbled, "Didn't I say I don't want any tea?" After this, she s

the monkey," Aunt

k is a monkey,

Mother. "What do you

and tipped my head back to look at my

d Mother. "Did you

e," Granny said. "We don't

st as you say. But she looks to me like a very clever girl,

o smell a fire before it has even begun. Won't that be nice, Granny? You won't h

was more terrified of fire th

r pretty, don't you

t we need is a smart girl, not a pretty girl. That Hatsumomo

sy gait-because of her one hip jutting out farther than the other-it wasn't at all obvious which of the two women had the easier

e, little girl?"

" I

ore politely than that. Auntie, be kind e

servant over and

ou'll be sorry. My advice to you is: work very hard, and never leave the okiya without permission. Do as you're told; don't be too much trouble; and you

ble city. And I had a sudden image in my mind of my poor, sick mother propping herself on one elbow upon her futon and looking around to see where we had gone. I didn't want Mother to see me crying, but the tears pooled