2018/02/21

Wisteria Maiden in the Dream

 

Part one

 

Last night, Toshio’s late mother talked to him in his dream.

   “Toshio, be sure to come to meet me. I’m waiting for you here.”

   “Where?”

   “Here, under the wisteria-pergola.”

   He saw his mother as the figure of a wisteria-maiden in a kimono, standing under the pendent wisteria clusters. Behind her, there were a few banner-flags which read “Tsushima Wisteria Festival.” How come his mother was a wisteria-maiden? At that moment, he woke up.

His mother died about 50 years ago when he was a university student. He had often dreamt about her for several years after her death, but recently he had scarcely dreamt about her. He wondered if he could really meet her if he went to the Tsushima Wisteria Festival. Would her spirit be waiting for him? No, it’d be impossible.

He wondered why he dreamed about the festival and the wisteria-maiden. Moments later, he understood why. He remembered the picture post card Tsushima City sent him a few days ago. It read, “Welcome to the Wisteria Festival.” It showed an opened red Japanese umbrella against violet wisteria. The contrast between red and violet was so impressive that the wisteria and the maiden appeared in his dream, he thought. After all, wisteria went together with the wisteria-maiden in Japanese traditional dances and kabuki.

The next day Toshio made up his mind to visit the festival; it would be fun, and if he could meet his mother, it would be great whether she was a spirit or a wisteria-maiden or whatever.

He left home around two in the afternoon. It took 30 minutes by train from Nagoya Station to Tsushima Station. After arriving there, he walked west along Tenno Street that led to Tenno River Park, the festival site. He was good on the geography of Tsushima City well because it was his mother’s home city and she used to take him to the park when he was a child.

As he was walking along the street, he felt nostalgia for the good old days of Showa era (1926-1989). He felt as if he were in the film, “Always: Sunset on Third Street,” whose drama took place during Showa era. There were a lot of Showa-style shops: a grilled eel shop, a costume store, an acupuncture clinic, a women’s clothing store, a hatter, a restaurant, a drug store, a Chinese restaurant, a rice shop, a coffee shop, etc.

Soon he happened to look up and saw a line of nice retro-looking street lights. A white bulb as large as a water-melon hung from the end of arms extended both ways from the top of the lamp post. He wondered if there had been those street lamps when he was a child.

An old noodle shop came into view. He remembered the day when he and his mother ate noodles in the shop. He felt sorry for her for all the troubles he had caused. When he was a second grader, he tried to slide down the banister that led from the second floor down to the first in his school building, but as he was sliding on his belly, he lost his balance and fell to the first floor. He fainted and was carried to the school nurse’s office. About 20 minutes later, his mother came to the office.

“Toshio! What have you done, naughty boy?” she said. He got a big bump on his forehead.

When he came to Tennoji 3rd Street, he saw a newly built house, which reminded him of another bad memory. When he was a third grader, one of his friends named Susumu said to him on their way home from school, “Hey, let’s go to a ghost house.” A ghost house? It was irresistible. He followed Susumu. After walking for about 15 minutes, they reached the destination. It was a new wooden house. It did not look like a haunted house at all, but looking at it closer, Toshio noticed that several places including the front glass door, the windows, and walls were damaged. He even saw a broken paper-sliding fusuma door in the house. Susumu or somebody else had done that, he thought.

Susumu began to throw stones at the front glass door. The stone smashed the glass. It looked fun. Toshio also started throwing stones at it. After a while, Susumu said, “Let’s break in the house.” Toshio hesitated.

Suddenly a man’s thundering noise was heard from behind them.

“What are you doing there?”

   They ran away, in vain.

The next day, Toshio and Susumu had to keep standing in the principal’s office all day. Around four o’clock Toshio’s mother came to school to apologize. When he returned home with his mother, his father slapped him on the cheek.

 

Wisteria Maiden in the Dream  part 2

 

Toshio felt sorry to have caused so much trouble to his mother. Fifty years had passed since then, but he still wanted to apologize to her from the bottom of his heart although.

He came to Tennoji 1st Street. He wondered if he could really meet his mother in the form of a wisteria maiden. She had died of leukemia when she was 46 years old. If she were alive, she would be around 100. If he could meet her, she must be 46 years old. But who was this wisteria maiden who had been foretold in the dream?

He turned left at the crossing on the 1st Street and headed for Tennoji River Park. He saw an old wooden house. It reminded him of his wooden elementary school building. He remembered walking on the ceiling of his classroom with his friends, Miura and Nishimura. They planned to go up to the attic. [[[They heaped up three desks under the vent hole in the ceiling, climbed them, and went to the ceiling space. It was dark and warm. The dust was floating in the light from the cracks of the wooden walls. The wooden beams about 8 centimeters wide ran the length and breadth of the ceiling. The three boys headed for the ceiling space of the neighboring classroom. Toshio walked carefully on the beams so that he would not fall from the ceiling. There were about 80 centimeter space between beams, and thin veneer was laid out in the space.

Suddenly Toshio slipped and his leg broke the veneer making a hole as large as his abdominal girth He nearly fell through the hole down onto the floor of the neighboring classroom. He instantly stretched his both arms fully enough to prevent his body from falling down. His body was hanging down between two beams. The students in the neighboring classroom were horrified to see somebody suddenly hang down from the ceiling with great noise.

“Help me!” Toshio screamed at the top of his voice.

First, Miura and Nishimura did not know what happened. They heard Toshio’s desperate voice, “Help me!” They saw only Toshio’s head above the ceiling in the dark. They grabbed his arms and tried to pull his body up, but he was heavy. Besides, they were standing on the easily breakable beams. They might fall down together with Toshio. All they could do was to keep Toshio from falling. They became tired. The sweat made their hands slippery. They could not hold on any more minutes, when they heard a loud strong voice from below:

“Let him go! Let him go! I will catch him!”

It was Mr. Ueda’s voice. He was their PE teacher, a judo fifth dan rank holder. A student must have rushed to the teachers’ room and took the gigantic PE teacher to the chaotic classroom. Thus, their secret adventure on the ceiling space was over.

Miura and Nishimura let down Toshio slowly.

“All right, all right. Now let him go!” Mr. Ueda said.

The dropped Toshio and Mr. Ueda caught him safely with his arms.

Soon Toshio’s mother was asked to come to school. Mr. Ohashi, Toshio’s homeroom teacher, scolded Toshio and his mother:

“I don’t know what to do with your son. He is the most mischievous boy in the school. Luckily, no one was injured, but I tremble to think that if your son had dropped on a student right below the ceiling, both students might have injured. They might have broken bones. Moreover, just the day before yesterday, your son put some water in the varnish bottle so that the amount of the liquid looked the same as before after he had secretly applied some to his own piece of wooden work. He is restless. I am always annoyed by him. I remember your first son, Tadao, was an excellent student, but Toshio is quite opposite. I hope you will discipline him more strictly at home.”

 “I am very sorry,” his mother repeated.

Toshio was sad to see his mother apologizing again and again. On their way back home, she told Toshio to follow his brother’s example. Tadao always got straight A’s on his report card except for a B for PE, but Toshio always got straight C’s except for an A for PE.

When Toshio arrived home, his father slapped him on the face.

Toshio continued to be mischievous even after he went to junior high school. He and Nishida took out several stools to the corridor from Art Classroom, separated the legs from the round top boards, piled the top boards in the corridor about five meters away from them. Then they grabbed the round boards and rolled them toward the pile one after another. The top boards rolled and collided with the pile demolishing them with thunderous sounds. “How amusing it was to break the pile of legs!” Toshio said to himself.

Unfortunately, the art teacher caught them on the spot and scolded them severely. Mr. Mizutani, Toshio’s homeroom teacher called his mother and she came to school.]]] omit or summarize in 1-2 paragraphs

 

Wisteria Maiden in the Dream part 3

 

Mr. Mizutani scolded Toshio and his mother severely, concluding his reproach by saying:

“You’ll have to pay for the damages to the stools.”

When they returned home, his father did not slap Toshio. Instead, he got so angry that his thunderous voice almost broke every window pane.

“Toshio! When are you going to stop such foolish things? I can’t stand it any longer! That’s enough. Can’t you understand how sad your mother has been all these years? Have you ever guessed how she has felt whenever she was summoned to school? Think of your mother!”

 

Soon Toshio came to Tenno River Park. There were a tremendous number of people, young and old. Dozens of flags stood along the bank, which read “Tsushima Wisteria Festival.” There were a lot of food stalls. They sold various food: octopus dumplings, fruit chocolate, pan-fried noodle, baked clams, sausages, and beer. Toshio bought miso-flavored cutlets and beer, and sat on the bench commanding the river view. In the far distance he saw wisteria-pergolas.

Would he meet his mother if he went there? Would the wisteria maiden appear? Toshio did not believe he would, but deep in his heart, he somehow expected to see someone like his mother or a wisteria maiden. He had decided to apologize to her if he met her.

While he was eating miso-flavored cutlets, he remembered his brother, Tadao. He suffered from kidney disease when he was 15 years old. He was placed on a restricted diet; protein-rich food and salty food were strictly prohibited. Miso-flavored cutlets Toshio was eating were bad for his kidneys. Tadao suffered from the disease for 3 years. So, he had to quit junior high school and spent most of his time in bed except when he went to hospital for medical checks. Toshio and Tadao shared a 6-tatami room. Pretending to be asleep, Toshio often sneaked a peek at his mother praying earnestly clasping her hands besides Tadao’s bed. After suffering from the chronic kidney disease for three years, Tadao died at the age of 18. His mother cried and cried frantically. When his funeral was over and his coffin was being carried to the hearse, she threw her body over it, put her arms around it tightly, and wept bitterly, shouting, “Tadao! Tadao!”

Toshio’s mischievous deeds stopped after his brother’s death.

 

While he was eating miso-flavored cutlets, he thought how much his brother wanted to eat them. His eyes were watering.

Six years later after Tadao’s death and when Toshio was 20 years old, his mother was hospitalized. When he visited her in the hospital room and was talking with her, she abruptly said:

“How will your bride look like, I wonder.”

“What are you talking about, Mother? I am a student.”

“I know.”

“I have to graduate from university and get a job before I marry.”

“Yes, but…. I can’t die before I see my grandchild.”

Toshio was stunned. Did she think she would die soon? It was not long after she died that he knew she had suffered from leukemia. His father had not told him about her disease.

After talking with her for some time, he stood up, saying:

“Mother, I have to go back home now. I have an examination tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“Yes, I’ll come again. Please take care.”

 

She died within a month after she was hospitalized. About an hour earlier than her death, his father, who had visited her in the hospital, called him around eight o’clock in the evening.

“Come to the hospital as soon as possible. Mother is in critical condition.”

Toshio pedaled his bicycle as hard as he could. Entering her room, he saw his mother with an oxygen mask on her face. She was wriggling in bed. Besides the doctor and nurses, his father and aunt were beside the bed. He grasped his mother’s hand. It was cold and did not respond. He said to himself, mother, mother again and again. Her eyes were rolling. She convulsed violently in bed. She looked like she was in pain and was unconscious. Toshio thought she would recover if he held her hand tightly in his hand. He prayed hard for her recovery, knowing it was useless. Suddenly the hem of her kimono turned outward and her thigh came into view. Toshio was embarrassed. His aunt quickly covered it with her kimono skirt.

“She’s finished,” his father whispered to him.

 

Wisteria Maiden in the Dream part 4

 

Soon she breathed her last breath. No more painful movement. Everything was peaceful. He missed the chance to apologize to her from the bottom of his heart.

Toshio reached the wisteria-pergolas. Full-blown violet wisteria hung down from the top of the pergolas swinging softly blown by the May breeze. The flowers looked proud of their beauty like a peacock spreading its tail feathers.  Various wisteria such as pinkish usubeni, long noda, purple bintan, blue kokuryu, and the 6-feet rokushaku were competing against each other for beauty amid the background Taisho harp music. The wisteria pedals were flowing slowly in the shining tiny river that ran under the wisteria-pergolas.

Toshio looked around in the crowd for a wisteria-maiden or someone like her, but in vein. He was exhausted. It was past four-thirty. He thought he would go back home. He did not regret visiting the Tsushima Wisteria Festival. He had enjoyed remembering his boyhood, ate delicious food, and saw beautiful wisteria. As he was walking, he wanted to rest on a bench before leaving the festival site, when he happened to see a green tea stall. How lucky! He decided to take a rest while sipping green tea.

He sat on one of the dozen benches covered with red cloth. The stall was surrounded by red and white vertical-striped tents with the Wisteria Festival flags standing here and there.

A middle-aged woman with an apron and a happi coat approached him saying, “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. A kashiwa rice-cake, please.”

Looking at the cake, he remembered that Children’s Day was in three days. He remembered eating kashiwa with his late brother and mother on every Children’s Day. He saw a fat wisteria tree, the trunk of which was so large that it seemed to need two adults to connect their spread arms to surround it. It must be hundreds years old. It looked like a wisteria tree in the kabuki dance titled “Wisteria Maiden.” He wouldn’t be surprised to see the wisteria-maiden appearing from behind the tree.

“Here’s green tea,” the woman in a happi coat said putting the tea-bowl beside him.

He glanced at her and thought she somehow looked like his mother.

“Where are you from, may I ask?” she said.

“From Nogoya,” he said.

“Thank you for coming all the way to visit the festival.”

“Not at all. Actually, I saw my late mother in a dream last night. She told me to come and meet her at a wisteria festival.”

“That’s a strange dream. And did she tell you to visit our festival here?”

“Yes, I saw several flags that read “Tsushima Wisteria Festival.”

“Is that so? So, did you meet your mother?”

“No, I haven’t. You see, it’s impossible to see her. She’s been dead for almost 50 years.”

“Yes, it is,” she said and smiled.

Her smile looked like his mother’s.

“Well, is it all right for you to keep talking with me? You must be busy serving tea,” Toshio said.

“No. Don’t worry about it. We are going to close the shop soon.”

“I see.”

“Don’t be discouraged, young man. Dreams come true, they say. So, you may still have a chance to meet her before you leave here.”

“Thank you. By the way she told me that she would be waiting for me dressed as a wisteria-maiden.”

“Really? A wisteria-maiden,” she looked surprised.

“Is something wrong?” he said.

“No, but you’ve surprised me. My daughter has been chosen as Miss Wisteria Maiden in the Miss Wisteria-maiden contest in Fujieda City, Shizuoka Prefecture.”

“Miss Wisteria-maiden contest? I haven’t heard about it,” he said.

“Yes, she applied for the contest because her friends insisted that she do it.”

“So, your daughter is a wisteria-maiden. What a happy surprise!”

“She’s just behind the tent. I’ll call her. Shiori, Shiori!”

Shiori appeared from behind the tent. She had been preparing for the tea and cakes.

“Did you call me, Mother?”

“Yes, this gentleman has come here to meet you,” her mother said.

Shiori, surprised, bowed to Toshio. She wore a light blue shirt and a pair of jeans with an apron over it. Toshio was surprised; she had a striking resemblance to his mother in his childhood. She had an inverted triangular face with slanted eyes like the ones of a beautiful woman in a ukiyo-e picture.

 

Wisteria Maiden in the Dream the last part 5

 

“He has come to the festival to see a wisteria-maiden. Would you mind showing your pictures when you won the grand prize in the Miss Wisteria-maiden contest?” her mother said.

“Not at all,” she said and pulled out her smartphone from a pocket in her jeans, touched the screen a few times, and showed it to her mother. It was a picture of Shiori in a kimono wearing a sash with the title Miss Wisteria Maiden.

“Here you are,” her mother said and handed the smartphone to Toshio. “Oh, my!” Toshio was amazed. “She’s the very spit of my mother in her album. She looks as if she had come out of it. And, excuse me, if I am rude,” he looked at her mother and said:

“You and my mother look somewhat alike.”

“Is that so? The same with me. You look like my grandfather.”

She told Shiori to serve another cup of tea to Toshio, and Shiori disappeared behind the tent.

Toshio picked up his i-phone, opened the picture folder, and picked up his mother’s sepia photograph which he had taken from her album.

Soon, Saori appeared with a cup of tea on a tray and put it beside him. He thanked her and sipped some.

“This is my mother when she was young,” he said, showing the i-phone picture to the mother.

“My goodness. She looks exactly like my daughter,” she said. “Where was your mother from?”

“She is from this city, Tsushima, but her ancestors are from Ibi-gun, Gifu Prefecture. Her maiden name was Matsuda,” he said.

“Oh, my great grandfather lived in Ibi-gun. His name was Matsuda, too,” she said.

“Then, we may be distant relatives,” he said.

“Yes, probably,” she said smiling.

Toshio thought Shiori was the person his mother had foretold in his dream. If she was his “mother,” this would be the very chance for him to apologize to her.

“Well, I wonder if . . .” he stumbled for a second, but said to Shiori’s mother. “I mean, when I was a child, I caused a lot of troubles to my mother, but she passed away before I apologized to her. I have always felt sorry for not having apologized to her. So, I would be very glad if I could apologize to your daughter as my mother. It may sound strange, but I think this is the only chance for me to apologize.”

Shiori’s mother looked at Shiori, who looked back at her. Shiori looked like she did not know how to respond.

“If my daughter will be of any help to you, please do so. It’s all right with you, isn’t it, Shiori?”

Shiori nodded.

Toshio solemnly faced Shiori, bowed to her, and said heartily.

“Mother, I’m sorry for causing so many troubles. Please forgive me.”

“All right, I’ll forgive you,” Shiori said in a serious tone.

Toshio did not expect her to reply in such a way, but when he heard her words, he felt relieved and breathed a deep breath. He looked at Shiori’s eyes, which were exactly like his mother’s when he was a child.

“Mother,” Toshio said to Shiori. “You wanted to see your grandchildren. These are your grandchildren. Look at them,” he said, showing Shiori some pictures of his children on his i-phone.

Several people had gathered around and looked at them. Toshio was embarrassed, but he talked to Shiori.

“Thanks to you, I was able to apologize. Now I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.’”

“I am sorry to have been rude to you,” Shiori said.

“Not at all. You’ve been a great help to me,” Toshio said and looked at his watch. “I think I have to be going now.”

Toshio offered his hand to his Shiori. She held his hand and they shook hands.

“Take care on your way back home,” Shiori said.

“Thank you,” Toshio said.

Toshio walked pleasantly down the street feeling he had accomplished something important.

A soft breeze was blowing. From nowhere, he heard his late mother’s voice.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

“I’ll come back again,” he said to himself.

 

The end