Jack fell into a routine of bathing, eating and sleeping.
His body gradually recovered from the fever, his arm began to mend and
he was able to take regular walks around the garden. Most days he sat
beneath the cherry blossom tree and watched Uekiya the gardener weed the
flower bed or prune back some shrub with infinite care. Uekiya would
acknowledge Jack's presence with a brief bow of the head, but little passed
between them since Jack couldn't make head or tail of their strange
language.
Jack soon got restless, his world now confined to a monotony of
indistinguishable rooms, daily bathing and flawless gardening. He felt
trapped, like a canary in a gilded cage. What did they want from him? He
was constantly watched, but they didn't try to speak with him. He was
allowed to wander the garden and house, but was always stopped from
exploring further. Were they deciding his fate? Or were they waiting for
someone who would?
Jack was desperate to know what lay beyond the garden walls. Surely
there had to be someone out there who could understand English and help
get him home, or maybe he would find a ship bound for a foreign port. He
could then smuggle aboard with the hope their next port of call would have
passage back to England, back to his sister, his last fragment of family.
Whatever, it had to be better than sitting under a tree doing nothing.
Jack resolved to escape.
Each day he had seen the young samurai, Taka-san, who appeared to be
Hiroko's house guard, enter and leave through a small gate in the garden
wall. That was his way out. It was pointless asking if he could leave – he
was a prisoner both of language and circumstance. They simply bowed and
responded 'Gomennasai, wakarimasen' to everything he said, which by
their expression and tone he presumed meant 'Sorry, I don't understand'.
After the now familiar breakfast of rice, a few pickled vegetables and
wheat gruel, he went for his daily walk round the garden. When Uekiya
bent over to tend some already immaculately pruned bush, Jack made for
the gate. He checked Jiro and Hiroko were inside the house before pulling
on the latch, and silently slipped through. The gate closed with the tiniest of
clicks, but Uekiya heard it and shouted after him.
'Iye! Abunai! Abunai!'
Jack ran.
Not caring about the cries of alarm or where he was headed, he darted
down a dirt road and weaved in between buildings until he was out of sight
of the house.
Quickly taking his bearings, Jack saw that the village sat in the bowl of a
large natural harbour with mountains rising up in the distance. Surrounding
the village were countless terraced fields dotted with farmers tending rice
beds. Despite the pain in his arm, he dashed past the stunned villagers and
headed downhill towards the sea.
Jack turned a corner and unexpectedly found himself in the middle of the
village square. Ahead was a large cobblestone jetty where men and women
were gutting fish and repairing nets. In the harbour beyond, myriad fishing
boats dotted the waters. Women dressed in thin white slips dived from the
boats, disappearing and reappearing with bags full of seaweed and shellfish
and oysters. A small sandy island lay in the centre of the bay, a red wooden
gateway dominating its beach.
A hushed silence descended upon the square and Jack became aware of
hundreds of eyes studying him. The whole village appeared frozen in time.
Women in vibrantly coloured kimonos knelt motionless by sellers in midpurchase; fish, half-gutted in the hands of fishermen, glinted in the bright
sunshine; and a samurai warrior, statue-like, glared stonily at him.
After a moment's hesitation, Jack tentatively bowed. The samurai barely
acknowledged his greeting, but moved on, ignoring him. A few women
returned Jack's bow, bemusement shining in their eyes, and the villagers
resumed their daily activities. Only too aware that all were still eyeing him
with suspicion, Jack crossed the square to the jetty and made his way down
to a small beach.
He scanned the boats, seeking a foreign ship. But to no avail; every
vessel was Japanese and crewed by Japanese. Despairing, Jack huddled
down next to a small fishing boat and stared blankly out to sea.
England was two years and four thousand leagues away. The only home
he knew and Jess, the only family he had left, were on the other side of the
world. What hope did he have of ever reaching her? What had been the
point in running? He had nowhere to go. No money. No rutter. Not even his
own clothes! With his blond hair, he stood out like a sore thumb among the
black-haired Japanese.
Jack watched the little boats in the harbour bob up and down, at a loss
what to do next. Then the girl appeared, rising up out of the water like a
mermaid. She had the same snowy white skin and jet-black hair as the girl
he had seen at the temple with the white stallion.
Jack watched her slip into one of the boats closest to shore. A fisherman
pulled in a bag loaded with oysters and, while she stood and dried herself,
he prised the oysters open to search for pearls. She ran her hands through
her hair, the seawater cascading off and reflecting the morning sunlight like
a thousand tiny stars.
Even as the fisherman rowed across the harbour, the girl remained
completely at ease with the swaying motion of the boat, her slender body
moving with the grace of a willow tree. It was almost as if she was floating
across the water. As the girl neared a little wooden jetty, Jack could clearly
see her features. She wasn't much older than he was. Blessed with soft,
unblemished skin, her half-moon eyes were the colour of ebony, and
beneath a small rounded nose was the blossom of a mouth, with lips like the
petals of a red rose. If Jack had ever imagined a fairy-tale princess, she
would have looked like this.
'GAIJIN!'
Jack, snapping out of his daydream, looked up. Blinking into the bright
sunlight, he saw two Japanese men standing over him, dressed in plain
kimonos and thong sandals. One was squat with a round bulbous head and a
flattened nose, while the other had tightly slit eyes and was as skinny as a
rake.
'Nani wo shiteru, gaijin?' challenged Flat-Nose.
The thin man peered over his friend's shoulder and prodded Jack sharply
in the chest with a wooden staff.
'Eh, gaijin?' he chimed, in a thin reedy voice.
Jack tried to back away, but he had nowhere to go.
'Onushi ittai doko kara kitanoda, gaijin?' demanded Flat-Nose, who then
tugged in cruel amazement at Jack's blond hair.
'Eh, gaijin?' the thin man taunted, purposefully planting his staff on
Jack's fingers.
Jack snatched his hand away.
'I… I don't understand…' he stammered and began desperately to search
for a means of escape.
Flat-Nose grabbed Jack by the scruff of his kimono and jerked him up to
eye level.
'Nani?' he spat into Jack's face.
'YAME!'
Jack barely registered the booming command, before Flat-Nose's eyes
almost popped out of their sockets, a hand knifing into the back of the
man's neck. Flat-Nose collapsed face first into the sand. He lay there
motionless, even as the waves washed over him.
Taka-san, the young samurai from Jack's house, having appeared from
nowhere, now spun on Jack's other assailant, withdrawing his sword in one
fluid motion. The thin man threw himself to the ground, apologizing
feverishly.
The sword cut through the air and arced down towards the prostrate man.
'Iye! Taka-san. Dōzo,' instructed another voice, and Taka-san stopped the
sword barely an inch from the man's exposed neck.
Jack immediately recognized the gentle voice.
'Konnichiwa,' she said, walking up to Jack and bowing gently to him.
'Watashi wa Dāte Akiko.'
The girl on the headland, the same girl from his fevered dreams, was
Akiko.