are as well as could be. Neither of them has lost a day of work this year. The crop was coming up well. The rice plant was about two inches tall when I left. There was ample rainfall in May to assure good irrigation. The wheat crop was normal in its yield during the spring, so there is no acute want among the villagers. Your brother's wife recently gave birth to her second son and both are doing well. Our sister-in-law is fortunate."
"And how are your parents at Mitajiri? I have only a faint memory of how they look, but we shall get acquainted even if the best we could do was a photograph."
"Thank you. They are also well and send their most sincere greetings to you. Oh yes, I have a letter written by my father." She rose and from among her writing materials she produced a long envelope on which his name was written boldly with brush and India ink.
He broke open the seal and the contents read in part: By the curious turn of the wheel of Karma our families have become intimately linked together again by this marriage. She may not have been brought up sufficiently well to suit your taste. If she has faults and is lacking in feminine virtues, we her parents are to blame for such shortcomings. Pray be patient and lead her to a loftier plane of womanhood. As a loving husband and protector you will be able to mould her character according to your wish and ideal. This we do not doubt, for she is still pliable. Where we have failed as disciplinarians, you will succeed with your love. In a strange land, her husband will be her sole support and counselor. My wife and I entrust you with her future happiness. May you both prosper and live happily, long after we two shall have departed from this earthly existence.
Seikichi was deeply moved. He saw that this father-in-law was no ordinary farmer or merchant. After reading the letter and folding it slowly and carefully, he said to her feelingly, "I shall answer this letter myself, but when you write home, convey my message also—how I have been deeply moved. It seems what I wanted to tell you, your father has told me. At your leisure, tomorrow, you had better read this message also. It is a message both of us should heed. I have gained a very wise father-in-law."
Haru blushed deeply and was grateful for the consideration of this man for uttering such sentiments. Japanese males are usually reticent about showing their feelings. This spontaneous gesture won her over to him completely.
Just then, there was a knock and the maid announced that the hot bath was ready. Haru got to her feet and said, "Please take off your clothes." She began looking among his things for his yukata, a kimono of cotton fabric worn in the summer months. This she put over his back as he began taking his trousers off, and as he pushed his arms through the sleeves, her arms were around his waist tying the sash for him.
She followed him to the bathroom. As he sank his body up to his chin in the steaming hot water, she was tying her long sleeves behind her back, and tucking up the lower hem of her kimono. "Now, let me scrub your back."
He emerged from the water as red as a lobster and sat on a low wooden stool, turning his back to her. Japanese baths have a space outside the tub where soap and water may be used repeatedly. She lathered his back and arms with soap thoroughly and briskly scrubbed him. Then with fresh hot water she washed him off. After saying "At your leisure," she left the bathroom. He completed washing the rest of his torso and then immersed himself again luxuriantly in the steaming water. Relaxed completely, he reviewed the day's happenings. It was an eventful day. One thing after another, but everything a happy incident. How well-bred she was! How lucky he was! He had his parents to thank for having picked a girl with attributes he had scarcely thought possible. The female sex was so thoughtful. Losing himself in reverie, he was aware of becoming faint. The heat was making him groggy. Hurriedly he got out of the bath. He poured several basinfuls of cold water over his head and dried himself with a fresh towel.
He returned to the room and after telling her to take her turn at the bath, he sauntered forth into the street in his cool yukata.
Honolulu was a small town of perhaps thirty thousand. The Japanese clustered about along the Nuuanu River and infiltrated into the more established Chinatown for business. Aala Park was a loitering place for the hundreds of laborers travelling back and forth from the Oahu plantations and awaiting trains, the principal means of transportation. Men turned brown by constant exposure to the sun, wearing coarse dungarees and slouching lauhala hats, stumbled from the corner saloon and made merry on the green lawn of the park. Dusk was just settling and the leaves of the ironwood trees along the western edge of the park were restling with the slight breeze that stirred with the setting sun. Prostitutes of different nationalities plied their illicit trade here, and Seikichi, as if the mere sight of these women defiled his eyes, moved away toward the railroad station. The evening train had just pulled in from the country with forty or fifty passengers. This was Friday and people were being attracted to the town for the weekend.
To Seikichi's country mind, even the laborers here seemed a little more dapper. Maybe their ways of spending money were not quite the same. He looked at the little shops that catered to this fluctuating and floating population. Certainly they were enjoying a brisk business. The soft drink parlors and fruit stands were packed with customers who came to quench their thirst and to buy something for friends or for families back on the plantations. He was interested in the way the merchandise was arranged and displayed on the counters and shelves. The clicking cash register bespoke modernization. The kimono-clad girls in the shops seemed to be an attraction in some stores. Perhaps this was essential when competition was keen. The Chinese merchants operated more substantial shops and seemed more prosperous.
He made the rounds along Aala Street, onto Beretania, and back to the hotel. It was already dark and the gas street lights illuminated the early evening. Under the shroud of fading light and encroaching darkness, the street scene took on an exotic quality of softness and quiet. He wanted to linger a while longer but in spite of himself he was drawn upstairs.
Haru was wearing a yukata of bright design tied firmly at the waist with an abbreviated obi, and had finished her evening toilet. Noticing this, Seikichi sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted very much to stretch and sprawl on the mat as was his wont in Japan. Inadvertently, without forethought, he fell on his back. Softly as a cat she was at the side of the bed, with a pillow for his neck.
"Thank you. Oh I nearly forgot. I noticed yor appetite was not much. So I bought some Hawaiian fruits that I am sure you have not yet seen or tasted. You will find them in that package on the table. Help yourself." Haru was touched. He had noticed her to the extent of gauging her wants and needs; not only noticed but took active steps to rectify and supplement them.
"Oh I am so glad! In this package? What do you call these oblong ones that are so fragrant? Mangoes? I know these are bananas because I saw them in pictures. These oranges are much larger than in Japan. I think I shall try the mangoes first." She went out and borrowed a knife and two plates from the kitchen. She peeled one, sliced it and placed it on the plate. Taking out a few toothpicks, she placed them on a plate and offered it to Seikichi.
"Don't consider me. It was meant for you."
"But you must also share it. I shan't have it alone. Oh, this is delicious. There is a pleasant odor, isn't there? Not bad, like pine oil." He smiled and she smiled. It was the first time they had smiled in unison.
CHAPTER 5
Picnic at Waikiki
SEIKICHI WAS LATE IN AWAKENING. HE HAD slept like a log. It was already light outside, perhaps seven o'clock. The bed beside him was empty and the odor of her person faintly lingered on the pillow. He drew out a cigarette and was puffing leisurely, smiling to himself inwardly of what had transpired last night. She had become his wholly. Even the thought of it sent his blood surging through his body, accelerated by the feminine aroma that still remained there. Just then she slipped silently into the room. She had arisen early and had already completed her toilet. Not to let her husband
