Beauty and Sadness Read Free Page A

were calling on impulse.
    “I came to hear the New Year’s Eve bells in Kyoto.”
    “The bells?”
    “Won’t you listen to them with me?”
    She made no reply, even when he repeated his question. Probably she was too surprised to know what to say.
    “Did you come alone?” she asked, after a long pause.
    “Yes. Yes, I’m alone.”
    Again Otoko was silent.
    “I’m going back New Year’s morning—I just wanted to hear the bells toll out the old year with you. I’m not so young anymore, you know. How many years is it since the last time we met? It’s been so long I suppose Iwouldn’t dare ask to see you without an occasion like this.”
    There was no answer.
    “May I call for you tomorrow?”
    “No, don’t,” Otoko said a little hastily. “I’ll come for
you.
At eight o’clock … perhaps that’s early, so let’s say around nine, at your hotel. I’ll make a reservation somewhere.”
    Oki had hoped for a leisurely dinner with her, but nine o’clock would be after dinner. Still, he was glad she had agreed. The Otoko of his old memories had come to life again.
    He spent the next day alone in his hotel room, morning till evening. That it was the last day of the year made the time seem even longer. There was nothing to do. He had friends in Kyoto, but it was not a day when he cared to see them. Nor did he want anyone to know he was in the city. Although he knew a good many restaurants with tempting Kyoto specialties, he decided to have a simple, businesslike dinner at the hotel. So the last day of the old year was filled with memories of Otoko. As the same memories kept recurring to his mind they became increasingly vivid. Events of over twenty years ago were more alive to him than those of yesterday.
    Too far from the window to see the street below, Oki sat looking out over the rooftops at the Western Hills. Compared with Tokyo, Kyoto was such a small, intimate city that even the Western Hills were close at hand. As he gazed, a translucent pale gold cloud above the hills turned a chilly ashen color, and it was evening.
    What were memories? What was the past that he remembered so clearly? When Otoko moved to Kyoto with her mother, Oki was sure they had parted. Yet had they, really? He could not escape the pain of having spoiled her life, possibly of having robbed her of every chance for happiness. But what had she thought of him as she spent all those lonely years? The Otoko of his memories was the most passionate woman he had ever known. And did not the vividness even now of those memories mean that she was not separated from him? Although he had never lived here, the lights of Kyoto in the evening had a nostalgic appeal for him. Perhaps every Japanese would feel that way. Still, Otoko was here. Restless, he took a bath, changed into fresh clothing, and walked up and down the room, stopping occasionally to look at himself in the mirror as he waited for her.
    It was twenty past nine when a call from the lobby announced Miss Ueno.
    “Tell her I’ll be down in a moment,” Oki answered. Or should I have had her come up here? he said to himself.
    Otoko was nowhere to be seen in the spacious lobby. A young girl approached and inquired politely if he was Mr. Oki. She said Miss Ueno had asked her to call for him.
    “Oh?” He tried to be casual. “That’s very kind of you.”
    Having expected only Otoko, he felt that she had eluded him. The vivid memories of her that had filled his day seemed to dissipate.
    Oki was silent for a time after getting into the car the girl had waiting for them. Then he asked: “Are you Miss Ueno’s pupil?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you’re living with her?”
    “Yes. There’s a maid too.”
    “I suppose you’re from Kyoto.”
    “No, Tokyo. But I fell in love with Miss Ueno’s work and came chasing after her, so she took me in.” Oki looked at the girl. The moment she spoke to him at the hotel he had been aware of her beauty and now he noticed how lovely she was in profile.