The Old Men of Omi by I. J. Parker Page B

and suffering. We raise them in the sweat of our brow, going without food so that they may eat, we slave for them, teach them, watch over them, hold them when they’re sick, and never ask for anything in return. We give our lives to see them live, while men just go their own ways without a care in the world.”
    Tora gaped at her. “That’s not really what happens,” he protested.
    “Pish pash! What difference? She died giving birth, and now the household is left without a mistress.”
    “Well, my wife and Genba’s are looking after the children and the house. And there’s a cook and a maid.”
    “All very well, but it’s not the same, is it?”
    There was no denying that, so Tora said nothing.
    “Right,” she said. “Now you’d better get cleaned up. You missed dinner, but I’ll have the cook reheat something. Off you go now. I have things to do. I can’t stand here gossiping.” She waddled away as briskly as she had come.
    “I’m sorry,” Saburo muttered.
    “That’s your mother?” Tora was still looking after her. “You never said anything. Where’d she come from?”
    “It’s a long story. Come, you’d better do as she said or it’ll make things worse.”
    Tora frowned. “She’s not my mother, and you look like you wish she wasn’t yours. You have a lot to explain, brother.”
    Saburo sighed. “I was sent to the monks when I was ten. She had some crisis of faith and thought making me a monk would save both our souls.”
    “That doesn’t explain her sudden appearance. You’ve never talked about your family. What about your father? Is he going to turn up, too?”
    ”My father died. By that time I was in training as a spy and not allowed to see my family. Not that I wanted to.”
    “Out with the whole story. How is it that she’s suddenly here after all that time?”
    Saburo looked at the house, then gazed at the gate, the stables and the kitchen buildings beyond almost as if he were trying to memorize them. “I’ll have to leave,” he said sadly. “I can’t throw her out, and therefore we’ll both have to go. I’m sorry.”
    Tora regarded him, his eyebrows raised. “Why should you go? Surely she’ll return to her own home after a visit with you.”
    “My sister’s husband threw her out. She has no place to go.” He added bitterly, “They helped her find me.”
    “They threw her out? That’s terrible. But don’t worry. The master will make her welcome just like he made Hanae and Ohiro welcome. She’s your mother, man.”
    Saburo gave him a desperate look. “I could never inflict my mother on his household.”
    “Don’t be silly. Look, I want to see Hanae now. Why don’t you get Genba and Ohiro, and we’ll put our heads together about this matter.”
    Saburo nodded and walked off.
    He walks like an old man, Tora thought, shaking his head—and all because his mother came to see him. What’s the matter with people?
    He did not bother to ponder this question but went straight to his own small house, where Hanae squealed with joy and threw herself into his arms.
    When they both emerged from the joyous reunion, and Tora had explained his black eye, he spared a thought for his son. “Where’s Yuki?”
    “With the schoolmaster. Oh, Tora, he’s making such good progress. You must be proud.”
    “Hmm.” The fact was that Tora did not approve. His secret fear that his son would be smarter than his father had already come to pass when Yuki had dared correct Tora’s speech and offered to read him a story he had written.
    Hanae said, “It was most generous of the master to educate our son. And I think he’ll do the same for the others.”
    Of the “others” there was so far only one, and she arrived wailing in the arms of her mother Ohiro. Genba, all smiles and solicitude these days, walked behind. His first words typically concerned his daughter. “Tamiko’s cutting another tooth,” he said proudly. “What do you think of that?”
    Tora thought it an unfortunate