a tray of tea and crackers. When we were seated on the cushions, I looked up to examine the face of our hostess. She was older than I had first thought, with a slender build and quick movements. When Sachi leaned forward to serve the strong green tea, her black scarf slipped a little from the left side of her face. Underneath I could see where the ulcers had eaten away her flesh, leaving white, scaly scabs, creating a disfigured mass as her half-closed left eye strained to open. When she saw my gaze, Sachi quickly looked down and re-covered the side of her face. As far as I could see, only her face and left hand seemed affected by the disease; her smooth, white right hand and fingers were untouched.
“More tea?” she asked, beginning to rise.
“Please,” I answered, my face flushed and embarrassed.
Matsu rose quickly before her and said, “Let me get it,” disappearing into the kitchen before Sachi had time to say anything. Very slowly, she lowered her body back down onto the cushion and turned just enough so that only the right side of her face was exposed to me. While the left side of her face had been devastated, the unblemished right side was the single most beautiful face I’d ever seen.
“I hope we’re not disturbing you,” I said, my voice sounding young and eager.
Sachi shook her head. She turned a bit more to get a good look at me with her one good eye. “I don’t have many visitors, only Matsu- san . Often years will go by without my seeing a new face. I am honored to have you visit.”
Then I was the one who seemed shy, not knowing what to say to this very beautiful woman. It seemed we already had something in common in our loneliness. I tried to imagine what Pie would do in my situation, but realized she might just ask to see what was under the black scarf.
Sachi must have sensed my discomfort, because she was the one to continue the conversation. The words flowed from her with ease. “The last time Matsu came, he told me you were staying at the beach house for a while,” she said.
“I haven’t been well. My parents thought it might be better for me to be away from Hong Kong and my younger sister while I’m recuperating. They’re hoping the fresh air of Tarumi will help me.”
Sachi pulled the black scarf tighter across her left side. “Yes, Tarumi can be a cure for some, and a refuge for others.”
“What’s a refuge?” Matsu asked, walking heavily out of the kitchen, carrying a pot of tea.
Sachi looked toward him and smiled. “The beauty of Tarumi,” she answered. She quickly rose from her cushion and bowed her head. “Matsu, let me see if I need anything for the garden.”
We both watched in silence as Sachi slid open the shoji door and disappeared.
By the time we were ready to leave Sachi’s house, it was late afternoon. I was filled with tea and crackers, happy that Sachi had relaxed and grown comfortable in my presence.
“I would be honored if you would come and visit me again,” Sachi said. She stood at the door and pulled her scarf closer to her face.
“I will,” I smiled. I glanced toward Matsu.
“There’s no need to wait for Matsu,” she said. “You are always welcome.”
I bowed, and said, “Dmo arigatgozaimasu.”
Matsu watched us and smiled. Then before he turned to leave, he gently touched Sachi’s arm.
Matsu and I walked through the village saying very little. The same villagers sat playing cards or smoking in small, scattered groups. They were less interested in us this time, though Matsu lifted his hand and gestured to several of the men along the way. Our walk back down the mountain was quick and quiet. Only when we reached the beach road that led back to the house did I gather the courage to speak.
“Sachi- san is very nice,” I said.
Matsu nodded his head in agreement, then added, “She was
once one of the most beautiful girls in all of Tarumi, perhaps all of Japan!”
“How did she catch it?” I asked
Anna Sugden - A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance)