Posts Tagged ‘10 years in the writing’

“Kimono”, Chapter 28, Earthquake.

February 21, 2018

Samurai Lovers, #2

After ten years I have finally finished writing “Kimono” a novel that flies between 21st century  and 17th century Japan.  My dear editor, Nick Nicholson in Australia wrote to me this morning.  It took him three days to read the entire novel from start to finish but he was ecstatic with the results. I am too close to this work so I have lost perspective. But I trust Nick, a friend for twelve years and an excellent writer.  I thought that it would take months perhaps nine months to revise/edit this long novel, but I have been careful in the writing…and Nick’s eagle eye has kept things on track.  Along the way I learned to read Japanese (somewhat), learned about Japanese culture,  learned medieval Japanese literature and so much more about a mostly alien culture.  Now we have the task, or I do….of designing a cover for this novel…or perhaps Nick can work his computer magic.  I need a vacation.

Lady Nyo

 Plum Blossom Snow

The present snowstorm of
White plum blossoms
Blinds me to sorrow.

They cascade over cheeks
Like perfumed, satin tears
Too warm with the promise of life
To chill flesh.

Lady Nyo, circa 2018

Mari was dreaming of snow falling on her face, but somewhere in her mind she knew it was spring, now too far from winter. She woke up, cold, as Lord Mori had turned in the night and taken all the quilts.


She sat up, pulling her thin kimonos around her. The dawn’s light hardly infused the bay before them, only thin tendrils of light skimmed the sky above the distant mountains.

=
Something was wrong. It wasn’t snow, but cherry blossoms. They covered the ground. There was a humming beneath the soil and Mari placed her hands firmly on the ground, feeling the vibrations. She wondered why Lord Mori did not awake up.


Mari stood to get a better look at the bay, but even standing was difficult. She felt drunk, unstable on her feet. Something was wrong, and the water before her looked as if something was punching beneath with a million fists, causing it to roil and churn.


Lord Mori woke up with a start, sat up and for the first time, Mari saw fear on his face.


“Do not try to stand, throw off your geta and run”, he whispered.

 

He grabbed her hand and at a crouch, they ran up the hill towards the others, Mari gathering her robes above her knees. They were knocked to the ground with the tremors of the earthquake a number of times, and each time Lord Mori covered her with his body.


They could hear screams and shouts in the distance. Nothing seemed real to Mari, and those beautiful cherry trees were uprooted and fallen in a jumble against each other. Lord Mori saw Lord Nyo scrambling towards him and shouted for him to try to get back to town and get their horses.

They must ride to Gassan or get as high as possible. They were in the lowlands and following an earthquake could come the feared tsunami.
A small fire had started with a brazier turning over on some quilts. Lord Mori stamped it out, and then looked for survivors. Lady Nyo and her servants were lying under some branches of a fallen cherry tree, and Lord Mori and some of the men lifted the tree to pull them out. Lady Nyo had blood streaming down her face mixed with soil, but other than a flesh wound, she would survive. Others were not so lucky. A few servants from the inn were buried by a fallen trees, or laid out like they were asleep on the soil. Lord Mori’s men dragged them out and laid them together on the ground. Someone covered them with the half-burnt quilts.


Mari scrambled to where Lady Nyo was sitting against a half-fallen tree and with her kimono sleeve, wiped the blood from her face. Why didn’t Lord Nyo free his wife first before he obeyed orders from Lord Mori to bring their horses? Clearly the rules of this century, and this country were very different than her own. She would hope that Steven would have attended to her first, but then again, this was a very different culture.


“I am fine, don’t worry about me, please”, whispered Lady Nyo. Mari could see that she had suffered shock and her pale face showed the effects of trauma.


“Is my Lord Nyo alive?” Mari nodded  and told her Lord Mori ordered him to bring the horses from the town.


Lady Nyo looked doubtful. “Surely the town has suffered what we have here. The horses might have bolted and he will not find them.”


“We can only hope he does. Lord Mori wants us all to ride to Gassan Mountain. He says the higher we are the safer we will be.”


Suddenly a man appeared over them. Startled, Mari looked at him.. It was Lord Yoki.


“Do not fear, my ladies”, he said bowing. “Lord Mori is right. The higher we get the better our chances of surviving will be.”


Another tremor, this one lasting only a few seconds, but Mari screamed in fear. Lord Yoki laid his hand on her shoulder to steady her. Mari buried her face in his robes. Either he had very hairy legs or she was feeling feathers through his clothing. In any case, she was glad he was there. Lord Mori was off directing the men, gathering what they could that would be useful for their flight to Gassan Mountain. He was not around to comfort a hysterical woman.


She continued to wipe the blood from Lady Nyo’s face, using the other sleeve of her kimono. Lady Nyo was chanting something in a low voice. Mari thought she was praying.


Suddenly, Lord Mori was bending over her as he pulled her to her feet, leading her away from the others.


He put his arm around her waist and drew her to him.


“You must leave. If you stay, you will die.”


“Yes”, said Mari. “Then I will die with you.”


Lord Mori grimaced and put his hand around her neck, close to her chin, bending her head back. He increased his hand’s pressure on either side of her jaw and the last thing Mari saw was his eyes, two black pools to drown in.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2018

 


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