Falling Through Glass by Barbara Sheridan Page A

Emmi raised her hands when Shinjuku-san tried to coax her into another sweetened rice ball for dessert.
    “Just one more. After all, Kae-san likes his women with some meat on their bones.”
    Emmi gasped. “We’re not— I’m not one of his women. I’m far from home and lost, and he was kind enough to help me.”
    The older woman gave her an enigmatic smile in return then began collecting the used plates. Emmi hurried to help and followed Shinjuku-san to the trough in an adjacent room where the kitchenware was washed.
    Twin girls, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, were working like mad, scrubbing pots and woks, bowls and cups.
    “I’ll stay and help them if that’s all right with you, Shinjuku-san.”
    “You are a guest. This is their job.”
    “Please?” Emmi asked. “I’d like to repay you for helping me.”
    “All right,” Shinjuku-san said after some consideration. “If you’re not done when Kae-san returns, I’ll send for you.”
    One of the girls helped Emmi tie her kimono sleeves back and then whispered something to her twin. They both giggled.
    “What’s so funny? Come on, you can tell me.”
    “We think you make a very pretty boy dressed that way.”
    Emmi laughed. “Thank you. Why don’t you two sit for a while and let me wash this mess?”
    The girls shook their heads. “No,” the taller of the two said. “Shinjuku-dono will be angry if we don’t work.”
    “We must work,” the shorter girl said. “She bought us.”
    “She bought you?”
    “From Shimabara,” the girl said.
    “Bought from Shimabara,” Emmi repeated softly, unable to believe that these little girls had been bought from the sex district. She gripped the edge of the sink trough, afraid that she might throw up. What kind of person was Mrs. Shinjuku really? For that matter, what type of person was Kaemon? What other sorts of “favor” did he ask of the older woman?
    “Shinjuku-san heard that we were going to be sold to customers, so she had her husband buy us from the master. We live here and can help with the work after we come from the Temple school.”
    “Oh,” Emmi said. She was relieved she’d been mistaken about the motivation but still hated the thought that these kids had to work in a kitchen to repay the favor.
    It made her realize just how far from home she truly was and how she might never again have the everyday comforts or security of the life she’d taken for granted back in the twenty-first century.
    As she helped wash the dishes, Emmi did her best to translate into Japanese some of the lame jokes her brother used to bug her with when they were younger. The jokes didn’t translate all that well, but the twins, Chidori and Namiji, found them amusing enough to be entertained.
    However, they stopped laughing and bowed low the instant Shinjuku-san came into the washroom.
    “Get up. Get up,” she said. “You two can go out and enjoy the sunshine before dinner.”
    The twins thanked her, bowed from the waist, and bowed again to Emmi. “Thank you, Emiko-dono.”
    “Thank you for being so nice to me.”
    They ran off giggling. Emmi set the last dish aside, dried her hands and offered the older woman a deep bow. “I owe you an apology, Shinjuku-san.”
    “Apology? Why?”
    “I told the girls to let me do their work mainly because I thought you were being cruel to them. When they told me you had bought them from Shimabara, well… I’m sorry for what I was thinking.”
    Shinjuku-san studied her for a long time, and Emmi felt like a total fool. The older woman would probably get one of those scary guards to take her away to a dungeon until Kaemon came back.
    If Kaemon came back.
    “You have a caring heart,” Shinjuku-san finally said. “Kae-san needs someone like you in his life.”
    An invisible punch hit Emmi dead in the stomach, and she could barely make her lips form words. She shook her head.
    “No. It isn’t going to happen. He’s a prince, and I’m not…from around here. I