The Blonde Geisha. Jina Bacarr

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      5

      I squeezed my eyes shut. Mariko. She had followed me into the hidden part of the garden with dwarf pines and flickering stone lanterns, a place where we went to forget all the unpleasant realities of life. To me, it was a fairy-tale palace garden lost in the charmed quiet of the great shadows behind the high walls.

      Today it couldn’t hide my secret.

      Mariko had seen me flirting with Hisa.

      And what he was doing to me. What would have happened if Mariko hadn’t come upon us? Would I have tossed away my fears as if they were grains of rice and let him make love to me? True, I’d fantasized about being naked with him on a snowscape, my body entwined in his arms, spreading my legs wide as he was about to penetrate me. In my dream, I pushed my back hard into the snow as he thrust into me, thrusting his desire and satisfying this mysterious need I had that remained unfulfilled.

      No excuse, Mariko would say, then admonish me for breaking another rule. Though I begged him to stop his hands roaming in forbidden places, in Mariko’s eyes I was like the honorable carp, toying with his fish hook, his penis, and arousing the jinrikisha boy.

       What else could she think?

      I dragged my hands across my breasts, covering myself, hoping she’d forget how our bodies became entangled in an embrace, my moon grotto oozing with fluids, dripping and bubbling with desire. She’d understand I lost control.

       Wouldn’t she?

      I pulled away from Hisa quickly. Too quickly. The tightly woven white cord of silk around my midriff loosened as Hisa’s fingers pulled on it, then came undone and fell to the ground. I made no move to pick it up. Instead, I tilted my chin up, determined not to give Mariko any indication I was shaken by her intrusion. I should apologize to her, since it was the accepted way to get back into favor after making a mistake, but I was curious about why she followed me. “I suppose okâsan sent you here to spy on me.”

      Shaking her head, Mariko glared at me. I blinked, as if a thousand fireflies had turned their lights on me, exposing me to her critical eye. “You have much luck today, Kathlene-san.”

      “What are you saying?”

      “Okâsan knows nothing of your lateness. She is busy entertaining an important visitor.”

      “Oh? And who can that be?”

      “I don’t know his name but I’ve heard he is a personal retainer of an Imperial Prince of the blood,” Mariko answered, her eyes shining. “And as handsome as a god.”

      “So that’s why no one is on the veranda.” I paused, thinking. “And who has okâsan chosen to entertain this man and his penis?”

      Hisa laughed and continued rubbing his hand up and down the shaft of his noble mushroom. Mariko lowered her eyes, embarrassed by my boldness. He is but a servant, her actions said loud and clear. Hisa understood. He bowed, aware he was no longer welcome. In a playful manner, he shoved his penis at us as if to show us what we were missing, then he disappeared as all servants did when they weren’t needed.

      Mariko would not let my naughty deed go unnoticed.

      “How could you let Hisa-don touch you like you were a prostitute from Shimabara?” she scolded me, hustling me toward the back entrance of the teahouse.

      “I found his touch most pleasurable,” I said, then added, “and he enjoyed playing with my dear little slit.” It wasn’t true. He never touched me down there, but I was tired of pushing back my feelings and needs.

      “You shame all of us with your wild ways, Kathlene-san.”

      “Haven’t you always told me it’s the way of geisha to entertain men?”

      Mariko ignored my comment. “While the other maiko learn the matter of correct bowing and flower arranging, you spend your time learning how to brew agar-agar jelly and practice jamming it between your thighs.”

      I cast a flirty eye toward her. “The jelly is said to have prophylactic powers and increases the size of a man’s penis—and keeps it hard longer.”

      She ignored me. “You also have the habit of affecting the floating walk of a courtesan, with your body turned aside, your feet moving as though you’re kicking up dust with the tips of your toes.” Mariko stopped and took a big breath, then in a soft voice that indicated her disappointment, she continued, “It gives me great sorrow to say this, Kathlene-san, but you haven’t yet learned how to be a geisha. You’re upsetting harmony with your actions and that displeases okâsan.”

      I understood what she meant. Harmony extended beyond friendship. It meant recognizing my role in the geisha house and accepting it, something СКАЧАТЬ