Friday, June 5th, 1885 – Ito

After work I go see Hamada Yasuo, who runs a small but elegant ryoken in the older section of town, near the river. He knows me, of course – although there are many, many ryoken and onsen in Ito, it’s a bit of a community, those of us in the tourist business. Also, his mother lived on the same road as I, so I would often see him and his family in the neighborhood when they would come to visit her.
He invites me in for tea, and his wife, Etsu-san, joins us. We chat first of business and how the busy season is getting to a good start before I explain about an old family friend wishing to spend some time in Ito, but for an extended stay so that a ryoken would not be economical, and ask about the house his mother once lived in. Connections I’ve made in my time in Ito – like Takikawa-san earlier – are proving useful.
Hamada-san sighs, “I’ve not done anything to it, other than removing my mother’s personal items. I didn’t have time to see to selling it or finding tenants before busy season started – I would prefer to keep it and rent it. My children might want it some day when they grow up and marry – it’s a nice house, if little.” As I still have a couple of hours before I need to retrieve Makoto-chan from the Mochizukis, we agree to go out now and see the house. I only went there once, a couple of years back and cannot remember it well.
“Renting it out… I -told- Yasou this would be an ideal situation until we decided what we were going to do with the house,” Etsu-san tells me, with a little smile to her husband. “Your friends I trust will take care of this place?” “Oh, of course,” I assure them.
The three of us walk about halfway up the hill. “It’s quieter on this side of the street, more trees but no ocean view like you house,” Hamada-san points out. “There’s also a path through the woods from the back gate, our children used it when going back and forth.” He opens the front gate and I see a small but traditional Japanese house. Western influences have not yet come to Ito’s architectual styles as they are in Tokyo… for a moment I think of that house I had there, with the large bay window and that red sofa… This house has two sections – a large living area with a small kitchen beyond, and the other half a sleeping area with screens that could divide the space, as needed.
I look around. “This will work.” Everything on one floor, unlike my house – if Saya cannot move her hips well this will be better for her to get around. The small porch with glassed windows also looks inviting, with its western chair. “Mother liked to sit out here all year, it was a nice warm place.” I’m surprised to find this little detail… then a look out back, the bathhouse is separate as is common here, and of course a well. The garden is a less formal one, lots of greenery that needs little tending other than the occasional cutting back. There’s a lovely sakura out front, with large flat rocks underneath. Of course, the blossoms have long since passed as it’s June but it’s still a lovely tree. The poor sakura, I realize, only to be admired for a brief few days of flowering… when it is still a lovely tree in summer, green and providing cool shade; glorious in its bright fall colors, and even the shape of its bare branches in the winter is like some bit of poetry against the cold sky. Yet there is promise in those bare branches, the promise of spring… the return of those pale blossoms…
I realize I let my mind wander a bit too long, the Hamadas look at me and ask me if I am well. I assure them I am, and we agree on a price – it seems reasonable, and I go ahead and pay Hamada-san for the first few weeks. He hands me the keys and we go our separate ways – his down the hill back to town, mine up the hill to get my daughter.
Now… to see about finding Saya a job, I think.