Chapter 39 Present Day
PRESENT DAY
JULIA
As Julia and Zoey walked up the steps to her parents’ home, Julia’s heart was filled with gratitude for this new understanding, of who she was.
There were still many pieces waiting to complete the puzzle, pieces that Julia knew may never fit, but one thing was for sure: she came from hardy stock.
In Zoey’s words, Julia had come from a long line of “bad-ass women.” Women who, as much as she could tell, dealt with life’s ups and downs and did the best they could in the circumstances surrounding them.
As Doctor Sato had counseled, Julia’s joyful emotions mixed with challenging ones, like sadness and shame.
The shame she felt may have been of her own doing, or passed on throughout the generations, or a mixture of the two; whichever, her curiosity and compassion for this maternal line had become part of her life.
Julia may never know why Yuria gave her daughter up to the geisha world after being part of the royal house of Japan.
Or why Mizuki and Rikka followed a life within the “Flower and Willow World,” that may or may not have included intimate contact with their clients.
Yes, the women probably had sexual relationships, but so had she.
Perhaps these women had physical relationships out of obligation or duty, financial reasons, or possibly their own desires.
Perhaps they were in search of love and acceptance as she herself was—a different time and culture… the same heart.
“You okay?” Zoey asked.
“Oh…um, yeah, just thinking about these amazing women,” she said and smiled. “Thanks for taking this journey with me…I’m sorry it was such a whirlwind.”
“Dude, that was fantastic! Now it’s time for me to dive into my family. Maybe we’ll find out we’re long-lost sisters,” she laughed.
“Well, we’re already that,” Julia hugged her from the side. “I’m glad you could come over and meet my mother and grandmother.”
“I wish I had more than these flowers.” Zoey raised the bouquet of daisies in her hand. “They were so generous to pay for my trip.”
“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Julia pushed the front door open. Immediately, she sensed something was wrong.
“Mom?” she called out. “Mother?”
She exhaled a sigh of relief when she heard a cough from the master bedroom.
Julia cracked the door open, peeked inside, and waved at Zoey to follow, as she entered the room.
Julia’s mother stood at the head of the bed with a cloth and wiped Grandmama’s forehead. Her grandmother’s eyes were closed, and if Julia didn’t know better, it looked like she had died. “Hi, Mom. Everything okay?” Her grandmother’s eyes fluttered open. “Hi Grandmama.”
“Julia, dear…please come sit,” Grandmama rasped.
Julia walked to the bedside and touched her grandmother’s cheek with the back of her hand, then kissed her. “Grandmama, you have a fever.” She looked at her mother. “You give her any Tylenol?”
“I just gave her some. I’ve spoken to the doctor, and he has prescribed a stronger antibiotic.”
“Obāchan, I’m sorry you’re still feeling poorly.” Her grandmother clutched the key to her treasure box in both hands to her chest.
“She has been waiting for you to get home,” Julia’s mother whispered.
Grandmama’s cough rattled her frail body, but when it subsided, she surprised Julia when she managed a smile. “Please help me sit up, dear.” She handed the key to Julia.
Julia and her mother sat her up and bolstered her back with pillows.
“Grandmama, you have me worried,” Julia said and felt her grandmother’s pulse at her wrist. A sip of water revived her.
Grandmama looked past Julia, “Forgive me for not getting dressed properly for our guest,” she said, regarding Zoey.
“Obāchan…Mom…this is Zoey, who I told you about. She helped me so much in Japan.”
Grandmama waved her closer. “Come here dear, don’t be shy to this old woman.”
Zoey and Obāchan conversed in Japanese and a flash of envy hit Julia. I definitely need to learn the language.
“Obāchan, look,” Julia interrupted. “I brought you some treasures.” She handed Grandmama the golden obi and then held up the framed photograph the super-centenarian had given her to where Grandmama could see it. “This is Shibata Rikka and her mother Mizuki.” Julia pointed at the picture.
Grandmother nodded a knowing smile.
“We met the woman who is the child in the photograph.”
“She must be ancient,” Grandmama smiled broadly, “older than me.”
“Yes, Grandmama, and she gave me this picture and this obi to give to you.”
“Hai, hai. Now I can tell you the rest of the story.” Grandmama adjusted herself and pointed to the chest next to the bed, indicating that Julia should open it.
Rest of the story, Julia thought as she carefully inserted the key, turned the lock, and lifted the lid. Inside, the contents had been rearranged so that a fold of beautiful blue silk fabric lay on top.
“Lift that out, dear, and hand me the things underneath,” Grandmama said, leaning to where she could see inside.
Julia followed her instructions by placing the stack of folded silk on the foot of the bed, then pointed to the wrapped package in fabric underneath.
“This one, Grandmama?”
“Hai, and the wooden box beside it, dear. Hand them to me.”
Julia gave her the box and offered her the wrapped package.
“Can you please unwrap it?” Grandmama asked.
Julia untied the knot and cautiously unfolded the fabric. She didn’t know why, but her hands shook. Inside was a small leather book—well-worn, pregnant with paper, and old. She handed it to Grandmama, but she refused and said, “Open it, dear.”
The old leather cover resisted slightly as Julia gently opened it to yellowed parchment revealing delicate Japanese writing in vertical columns.
Julia carefully turned a few pages. Feeling the focus of her grandmother’s eyes, she looked up to see Grandmama’s mischievous smile.
“This is Shibata Yuria’s diary,” Obāchan said.
Her grandmother’s declaration flustered Julia and weakened her knees. “Grandmama…you knew all this?” Julia paused, having figured it out. “You knew the entire time, didn’t you?” Tears and laughter hit her at the same time. “Why, Grandmama…why did you send me on that journey?”
“Onore o shire,” she said and looked at Zoey.
Zoey stepped forward and translated. “Know yourself.”
Grandmama nodded. “You had to discover for yourself, dear. You will now know who you are.”
* * *
They were only a paragraph into the diary when all four women wiped tears from their eyes. Now, many pages into the diary, they were mesmerized. As Zoey read Yuria’s words, it was as if she had joined them in this sacred space—her spirit and presence sharing the room.
Through Yuria’s elegant and poetic words, and Grandmama filling in the details, they learned that Shibata Yuria went by Yoshi-no-kata as an ochūrō for the Shōgun.
The diary described her heartbreaking shame at not having had the opportunity to serve the master and her sadness when she heard he had died.
The diary also revealed her fear and hope for the new Shōgun—her angst and desire to fulfill her duty and destiny.
Yuria’s journal detailed her appointment as a secondary wife to Tokugawa Yoshinobu and their union that resulted in a child—a daughter, born a month before Yoshinobu’s shocking resignation to the Emperor. Yuria’s failure to produce an heir had been a great disappointment to the Shōgun.
Deeper into the journal, Yuria described how the defeated Shōgun fled to Osaka and eventually to Edo, now the city of Tokyo, as war broke out. To spare the country an all-out war, the two factions reached a peace agreement, and the Emperor allowed Yoshinobu to move to Shizuoka.
Yuria’s shame and heartbreak filled several pages when she was cast out from Yoshinobu’s residence shortly after moving to Shizuoka. She described no reason behind the eviction. Was the shame too much, or something she couldn’t bear to put into words?
“Then Yuria’s struggle to support herself and her child, Mizuki—Water Lily, as she called her most often in her writings,” Zoey translated and summarized.
And here it was…the one piece of the puzzle that Julia could not make sense of: Yuria became so poor, she could no longer care for her child, and she sold Mizuki to the okiya… a home of geisha.
Zoey wept so hard she had to stop translating. Julia thought she might be sick. The diary contained so much more, delicate sketches of the world around them, including major life events and daily humdrum like weather and food. At another time, Julia would pour over every tidbit.
Zoey flipped through several pages and then summarized.
“Yuria barely made ends meet with odd jobs, but continued to paint when she could afford supplies. She watched Mizuki from a distance and her entries lightened when Mizuki wed a hatamoto, samurai that produced another daughter, Rikka. Mizuki’s samurai husband died unexpectedly from cholera, two months before Rikka was born, sending Mizuki and Rikka back to the life of a servant in the entertainment district. ”
Zoey turned through a set of blank pages and then continued reading.
“I am old now, and it is time for my true story to be told. I have lived a good life, one of honor and sacrifice. Perhaps someday, my story will be fully told. I have known much joy and sadness, and I hold them all with gratitude. My dear Rikka is married now and leaves for America soon. How I will miss her and fear I will never see her again or know of her fate. May the sun always shine on her. May she live a life of love—a glimmer that I once experienced.”
Zoey read and wiped her nose.
“She must have died soon after Rikka left,” Julia said through tears.
Zoey nodded and continued.
“Golden leaves drift from the trees. The sky is intriguing today, colors I cannot capture. Where are you, my love? Here in my heart, as always. If only…if only I could have another moment, I could get through another day, another year. Will my love ever be satisfied? I cannot know the will of the divine.”
Zoey looked up from the diary and sighed. She then turned the page, but as she did, a section of the diary slipped from the book, as if she had inadvertently pulled it loose. Zoey grimaced. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…I hope I didn’t…”
“No, it has been that way since I can remember,” Grandmama interrupted.
Zoey carefully tucked the pages together and searched the writing to see where to restart.
“What does it say?” Julia asked.
“Oh wow, this seems to be all about her trip to France.” She flipped through a few of the pages. “Yeah, here she is talking about Paris.” Zoey turned the pages again and one small piece of parchment fluttered down to the floor.
Julia quickly bent to pick up the paper and inspect it. Strangely, the writing was not Japanese but French. She handed the paper to Zoey, who looked at it and shrugged. She handed it back to Julia, who gave it to Grandmama, who smiled as she took it.
“Would you like to know what it says?”
Still smiling, Grandmama opened the wooden box that she had been holding all this time and took out a slip of paper.
“I had the French poem translated several years ago.” Grandmama said shyly. “Will you read it, dear?” She handed it to Julia.
“My love, my love
Streams of desire flow
Wave after wave
Watering my soul
My love, my love
Colors dance as the
Waters ripple
Swans entangled
My love, my love
Hold me again
Touch me again
Kiss me again
My love, my love
Where have you gone
Tender spring blossoms
Pant for sun’s warmth
Love that grows
Love unfulfilled
Love that never ceases
Love flitters as a butterfly
on a warm summer breeze
Looking for a place to land.”
Julia looked at the note and puffed out a loud sigh. She felt flushed over her entire body.
Zoey finally said what everyone was thinking, “Whew, that’s hot!” She fanned herself, making them all laugh.
“Grandmama,” Julia could barely get the words out, “who is this man?”
Grandmama looked at Julia’s mother and then at the two girls and smiled.
She slowly opened the wooden box again and pulled out a small gold object. She took a deep breath and held it out to Julia.
Julia opened her hands as Grandmama set the gold pocket watch onto her palms. She carefully picked it up and held it to the light. It was heavy and old.
“Push the top to open it,” Grandmama said.
The antique watch snapped open easily. The hands had stopped at twelve-thirty. Julia was about to shrug when she focused on the small drawing within the lid. Sketched in pencil, the portrait had faded with time.
“You must read the signature,” Grandmama said.
Julia squinted and held it to the light. She sat up straight, her eyes went wide. “Monet?”