The cook shouted across, “The only spirits he calls up are in his cup. He’s a hard drinker.”
Harada, far from taking offense, said, “On the contrary, my friend of the steaming pots. Drinking is the easiest thing I do. The world rests heavily on my shoulders and the worries of my days fray at my nerves.”
“And the wine makes the world go round till you’re too dizzy to see straight,” grunted the cook, ladling out a large platterful of steamed chunks of fish and vegetables. “See,” he said to Tora and Genba, passing the bowl to the waiter with a jerk of the head toward their table, “it’s like this: When he’s out of sorts, he drinks. After the first cup he feels more like himself. So he has another and now feels like a new man. But the new man wants to drink, too, and so he goes on drinking till, pretty soon, he feels like a babe … bawling and crawling all the way home!”
Laughter greeted these witticisms. When Harada protested, “I drink only to calm myself,” one of the guests shouted, “Yeah! Last night he got so calm he couldn’t move! Ho ho ho!”
“Fools!” muttered Harada. He pushed away disdainfully the bowl of fish and rice the waiter placed before him and instead refilled his cup from the pitcher. “The Chinese poets understood about wine!” he said, holding up the cup and squinting at it. “It frees a man’s genius from the shackles of physical existence.” He emptied the cup. “ ‘I will fill my cup and never let it go dry,’ said Po Chü-i. And Li Po said, ‘I can love wine without shame before the gods.’ Li Po knew there’s no point in explaining this to a sober man. Poets must nourish their souls, not their bellies.” He glanced around the table and saw that both Tora and Genba had their noses deep in their bowls of fish stew. His nose twitched, and he eyed his own bowl thoughtfully for a moment, then reached for it.
Genba was emptying and refilling his own bowl with such speed and complete enjoyment that his lip-smacking and belching attracted the pleased attention of the cook, who promptly sent along a heaping platter of steamed eel, compliments of the house.
“So you’re a poet?” Tora asked their companion. “I thought you just said that you manage a farm.”
“Not a farm. An estate.” Harada looked at him blearily. “You may not be aware of it, young man,” he said with a fruity belch, “but poets have never enjoyed a regular income without a generous p-patron. P-professor Yasaburo, my old friend and classmate, is the closest I could find to a p-p … magnanimous p-erson, and he makes use of my many other skills as he has need of them.” Taking another gulp from his cup, he belched again, and added, “At the present time, you behold in me an ambassador of good will, a bearer of happy tidings, a p-purveyor of the substance which makes even the dull p-pragmatists happy. In short, I have completed an errand of mercy.” With a great sigh, he folded his arms on the table, laid his head on them, and went to sleep.
Tora, who had listened with only half an ear, now turned to Genba. To his surprise, Genba had stopped eating. He sat, slack-jawed, staring past Tora’s shoulder, an expression of stunned amazement on his face. The platter of eels in front of him was barely touched, and he still held his chopsticks with a juicy morsel suspended halfway to his open mouth.
Tora looked to see what had shocked Genba into immobility. The restaurant was full of people. Behind them six men, of the ordinary riverfront variety, were exchanging stories over their wine. Near a pillar, several women were eating fish stew and chattering among themselves. Against the back wall, an old man presided over a table filled with members of his family. And near them a husband and wife were engaged in an argument. Tora could not see anything likely to cause that look in Genba’s eyes. He reached across to take the chopsticks from Genba’s rigid fingers. “What are you staring at?”
Genba jerked. “Huh? Oh!” He blushed scarlet. “See the young lady over there? She’s the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen.”
Tora scanned the women. Pretty girls, he thought, surprised and pleased that Genba finally seemed to take an interest in the opposite sex. He must mean the pert one with the look of a playful kitten. But the others weren’t bad, either. An older woman presided over them, their chaperone or perhaps an auntie. Tora took in her size and blinked. She was enormous, towering over the girls and taking up the space of two men. Big shoulders, a huge jutting bosom, and bulging arms, all covered in shiny black silk, and a round, red-cheeked face topped with coils of hair which were decorated with red silk ribbons dangling coyly down on either side. Tora almost laughed out loud at the sight of her. No wonder she was fat; she was eating with a speed which astonished even him, and he was familiar with Genba’s appetite. Her large fat hand holding the chopsticks darted quickly among the many bowls in front of her, picking up a tidbit here and a pickle there, the small finger extended daintily, the red lips closing with little smacking sounds around each morsel or dipping quickly toward the rim of a soup bowl to suck up broth and fish alike. He turned to Genba. “Pretty girls, but look at that madam! I’ve never seen a woman eat like that. No wonder she’s as fat as Hotei!”
Genba stared at him. “What do you mean?” he asked, frowning. “She’s the most handsome female I ever laid eyes on. Look at that rosy skin, the pretty mouth, and that fine body! And she eats most elegantly. Daintily, like a lady! Which is more than you can say about her companions. I never could understand what you see in those bony little bits you seem to prefer.”
Tora gaped. “Have you lost your mind?” he asked. “That’s some whore grown too fat to get customers, so now she runs the house, taking out her girls for their evening rice. Leave her alone! She’d make short work of an innocent like you and take you for every copper, having a good laugh with her girls afterward.”
Genba got up, his face like thunder. “Good night!” he growled.
“Where are you going?” Tora cried, pointing to the uneaten food. “We aren’t finished, and we haven’t even started asking questions.”
“You can do your own investigating,” Genba said over his shoulder, and headed for the table of the women. Tora looked after him in stunned surprise. This was not like Genba, who was normally shy around women. But there he was, bowing to the fat woman, and then to the girls around the table. The girls wore the heavy white makeup of street women and clearly were not averse to male company, for Genba took a seat next to a slender girl whose eyebrows had been plucked and painted high on her forehead, in the manner of certain court ladies or actors playing women’s roles. Tora shook his head. Genba would be sorry. He made a move to follow, feeling it his duty to protect his companion from the wiles of the professional women of the quarter. But when he took a step toward them, Genba looked up and scowled so ferociously that Tora quickly sat back down. Very well! Let him learn his lesson, then, he thought, and turned his attention to the food.
Harada was snoring softly. Tora caught the cook’s eye. “What will you do about him?” he asked.
The cook gave the drunken man a glance. “Him? Nothing. He can stay. He’s not a bad sort, comes to town on business for his master, takes care of whatever it is, then comes here to drink away whatever money he brought with him. As he spends it here, I feel obliged to look out for him. In the morning I’ll put him on the road home.”
Tora took a sip of his wine. “I’m told you see quite a few actors here when they’re in town,” he said to the cook.
“Sure. Some are back already. Getting ready to put on shows for the winter festivals and the driving out of the evil spirits at the end of the year.”
“Ever hear of a troupe called Uemon’s Players?”
“Uemon? Sure. Everybody knows of him. Mind you, he’s getting old, but his people are good. They even get asked to perform for the good people.” He scanned the room. “Danjuro, his lead actor, is really good. He used to come, but I haven’t laid eyes on him since they got back from their tour. I guess him and his girl Ohisa got married at last and set up house.”