But it had not occurred to Eguchi that such a thing could happen to his daughter. So probably it was with all parents. Eguchi may have had too much confidence in his high spirited daughter, so open and lively when surrounded by men. But now that the deed was done there seemed nothing strange about it. Her body was put together in a manner no different from the bodies of other women. A man could force himself upon her. At the thought of her unsightliness in the act, Eguchi was assailed by strong feelings of shame and degradation. No such feelings had come to him when he had sent his older daughters on their honeymoons. What had happened may have been an explosion of love on the part of the youth. But it had happened, and Eguchi could only reflect upon how his daughter's body was made, upon its inability to turn the act away. Were such reflections abnormal for a father? Eguchi did not immediately sanction the engagement, nor did he reject it. He and his wife learned considerably later that the competition between the youths had been rather vicious. His daughter's marriage was near when he took her to Kyoto and they say the camellia in full bloom. There was a faint roar inside it, like a swarm of honeybees.
She had a son two years after she was married. Her husband seemed quite wrapped up in the child. When, perhaps on a Sunday, the young couple would come to Eguchi's house, the wife would go out to help her mother in the kitchen, and the husband, most deftly, would feed the baby. And so matters had resolved themselves nicely. Although she lived in Tokyo, the daughter seldom came to see them after she was married.
"How are you?"
"How am I? Happy, I suppose."
Perhaps people did not have a great deal to say to their parents about their marital relations, but Eguchi was somehow dissatisfied and a trifle disturbed. Given the natures of his youngest daughter, it seemed to him that she ought to say more. But she was more beautiful, she come into bloom. Even though the change might be physiological one from girl to young wife, it did not seem that there would be this flower like brightness if a shadow lay over her heart. After she had her baby her skin was clearer, as though she had been washed to the depths, and she seemed more in possession of herself.
And was that it? Was that why, in 'the house of the sleeping beauties', as he lay with the girl's arm over his eyes, the images of the camellia in full bloom and the other flowers came to him? There was of course neither in the girl sleeping here nor in Eguchi's youngest daughter the richness of the camellia. But the richness of a girl's body was not something one knew by looking at her or by lying quietly beside her. It was not to be compared with the richness of camellias. What flowed deep behind his eyelids from the girl's arm was the current of life, the melody of life, the lure of life, and, for an old man, the recovery of life. The eyes on which the girl's arm rested were heavy, and he took the arm away.
There was nowhere for her to put her left arm. Probably because it was awkward for her to stretch it taut along Eguchi's chest, she half turned over his face again. She brought both hands together over her bosom with the fingers interlocked. They touched Eguchi's chest. They were not clasped as in veneration, but still they suggest prayer, soft prayer. He took the two clasped hands between his own hands. It was as if he were praying for something himself. He closed his eyes, probably in nothing more than the sadness of an old man touching the hands of a sleeping young girl.
He heard the first drops of night rain falling on the quiet sea. The distant sound seemed to come not from an automobile but from the thunder of winter. It was not easy to catch. He unfolded the girl's hands and gazed at the fingers as he straightened them one by one. He wanted to take the long, slender fingers in his mouth. What would she think, awakening the next morning, if there were tooth marks on her little finger and blood oozing from it? Eguchi brought the girl's arm down along her body. He looked at her rich breasts, the nipples large and swollen and dark. He raised them, gently sagging as they were. They were not as warm as her body, warmed by the electric blanket. He thought to bring his forehead to the hollow between them, but only drew near, and held back because of the scent. He rolled over the face down and this time took both the sleeping tablets at once. On the earlier visit he had taken one tablet, and then taken the other when he had awakened from a nightmare. But he had learned that they were only sleeping medicine. He was quick to fall asleep.
The voice of the girl sobbing awakened him. Then what sounded like sobs changed to laughter. The laughter went on and on. He put his arm over her breasts and shook her.
"You're dreaming, you're dreaming. What are you dreaming of?"
There was something ominous in the silence that followed the laughter. But Eguchi too was heavy with sleep, and it was all he could do to feel for the watch at his pillow. It was three thirty. Bringing his chest to her and drawing her hips toward him, he slept a warm sleep.
The next morning he was again aroused by thr woman of the house.
"Are you awake?"
He did not answer. Did the woman not have her ear to the door of the secret room? A spasm went through him at indications that was the case. Perhaps because of the heat from the blanket, the girl's shoulders were exposed, and she had an arm over head. He pulled the quilt up.
"Are you awake?"
Still not answering, he put his head under the quilt. A breast touched his chin. It was as if he were suddenly on fire. He put his arm around the girl's back and pulled her toward him with his foot.
"Sir! Sir!" The woman rapped on the door three or four times.
"I'm awake. I'm getting dressed." It seemed that she would come into the room if he did not answer.
The woman had brought water and toothpaste and the like into the room.
"And how was it?" she asked as she served his breakfast. "Don't you think she's a good girl?"
"A very good girl." Eguchi nodded. "When will she wake up?"
"I wonder."
"Can't I stay until she's awake?"
"That's exactly the sort of things we can't allow." The woman said hastily. "We don't allow that even with our older guests."
"But she's too a good girl."
"It's best just to keep them company and not let foolish emotions get in the way." She doesn't even know she's slept with you. She won't cause you any trouble."
"But I remember her. What if we were to pass in the street?"
"You mean you might speak to her? Don't do that. It would be a crime."
"A crime?"
"It would indeed."
"A crime."
"I must ask you not to be difficult. Just take sleeping girls as sleeping girls."
He wanted to retort that he had not yet reached that sad degree of senility, but held himself back.
"I believe there was rain last night." he said.
"Really? I didn't notice."
"I definitively heard rain."
On the sea outside the window little waves caught the morning sunlight in near the cliff.
3
Eight days after his second visit old Eguchi went again to the 'house of the sleeping beauties'. It had been two weeks between his first and second visits, and so the interval had been cut in a half.
Was he gradually being pulled in by the spell of girls put to sleep?
"The one tonight is still in training." said the woman of the house as she made tea. "You may be disappointed, but please put up with her."
"A different one again?"
"You called just before you came, and I had to make do with what I had. If there is a girl you specially want I must ask you to let me know two or three days in advance."
"I see. But what do you mean when you say she's in training?"
"She's new. And small."
Old Eguchi was startled.
"She was frightened. She asked if she mightn't have someone with her. But I wouldn't want to upset you."