to be in Arkansas?" questioned the doctor.
"Let me see. Not lately anyway. I think it was at father's funeral. Unless there is something like that happening, we do not often see each other. Is there something wrong?" Her mental faculty was very keen.
"Yes. Last night he had a heart attack and is now at the Kuakini Hospital. I hope he makes it, but it is hard to know at this stage just how he will end up."
"Now, that was a fine man. You got to know him in Arkansas didn't you? I first met him when I landed in Honolulu as a bride almost sixty years ago. Mrs. Arata was on the same boat coming over. We four went to Waikiki to see the aquarium. His wife is dead, my husband is gone for four years, and now he is sick. Maybe not to recover. Looks like I am the last to survive of the four carefree youngsters from Japan that picnicked at Waikiki that day." Minoru looked up and searchingly gazed at his mother. It was not like her to talk sentimentally of the past.
While his father, Torao Murayama, was alive, Minoru used to spend many hours listening to the stories of the early plantation days on the North Hilo coast and probe into the obscure aspects of the contract labor days that he could not understand. When he was fortunate enough to meet any oldtimer among his patients, he spent extra hours gathering more information. Much of his boyhood, he remembered comparatively well. He sat in deep reverie as this was a Sunday morning and he could loaf.
CHAPTER 8
Farm life in Japan
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD, Napoleon Bonaparte had risen and fallen and Europe was in the grip of a fierce struggle for a realignment of powers. In the New World an infant nation was in the throes of putting her house in order over states rights and the burning question of human rights to freedom. What about the hermit kingdom of Cipangu, the fabled land of Marco Polo?
In the fertile plains of Kumamoto in Kyushu, southwest Japan, Torao Murayama's ancestors had lived as sturdy peasants, tilling the rice patches in the rich delta regions of the Midorikawa. On the hilly sides of the Peninsula of Uto they had their village homes for countless generations. The nation was in hermetic seclusion and everything seemed to be at a standstill. After three centuries of continued peace, the warrior caste had lost its original initiative, physical prowess, endurance, and every martial aptitude that had set this class apart and had permitted its ascendancy over the peasantry in the remote past in feudal history.
In the main, long accustomed to life of leisure and bureaucratic office work, the samurai had degenerated into peaceful citizens delving in the gentler arts of music, tea ceremony, and dancing, rather than pursuing the Spartan ways of their fierce ancestors who had lived by the sword. The hegemony of the Tokugawa Shogunate over the island empire was numbered. Revolutionary sentiment was strong among the lower stratum samurai who were destined to continue in their downtrodden life should the status quo continue. Young blood clamored for the restoration of the emperor to his rightful office as sovereign in fact, as well as in name. It was a convenient rallying point for the dissidents. It had mass appeal, especially to the underprivileged artisans and peasants. Thoughtful shogunate officials saw the words of doom concerning their future written on the wall.
The external pressure of the Russians from the north, iron fleets of America, England, and the Dutch pounding at the gates of the southern seaports, hastened the downfall of the then existing government by climaxing the struggle of the conflicting forces within the country. But this foreign threat merely hastened the end of the feudal system, for inevitable doom was imminent. Attempts to save the system were naturally made, but the core of the feudal system was like a termite-eaten edifice. Leaders saw through the danger and attempting to reenforce the structure at the eleventh hour, tried blood transfusion in its literal sense. Infusing new blood of sturdy young peasant sons of superior stock was the only solution to prolong the failing tide of destiny.
Thus, Lord Hosokawa of Kumamoto looked among his peasantry for young, dependable soldier material. Edicts were promulgated to recruit second and third sons of farmers and artisans who wished to seek advancement in life in the profession of arms. It was to be a lifelong job with prospects of attaining rank of the samurai and privileges appertaining to it. It was a tremendous opportunity for those who qualified. Examinations as to physical, mental, and moral stamina were most rigid. To have passed this obstacle was an attainment of incalculable merit, for it meant "passing" over into a higher, more respected caste than the one they had been born into. Since the law of primogeniture prevailed and all or most property holdings passed to the eldest male child, the lot of the second and other sons was not enviable. Only in wealthier families did they have any chance for a decent existence. The best they could do was to become adopted into childless families or marry into families blessed only with girl offsprings. But the future prospects of the man married by such an arrangement was not always smooth sailing. A hen-pecked husband is not a happy situation in any community, and a wife with a large dowry was apt to "wear the pants in the family." There was a saying therefore: "If you have three pints of rice polishings to your name, never become an adopted son."
These volunteer soldiers were, therefore, the pick of the land. The rejuvenation of the governing class was thus belatedly attempted. Sadaki Mayeda was among these and by his knack of getting along with people he was soon promoted to the rank of the present-day sergeant and was stationed at Kyoto when the restoration of the emperor came. Japan was split into two camps on the question of opening its country to foreign commerce. The Tokugawa group was willy-nilly forced to accede to the demands of the foreign powers, especially to Commodore Perry. The group that rallied around the emperor saw the opportunity to overthrow the shogunate and restore the emperor to his rightful place on the throne. This latter group was against anything that the Tokugawa Shogunate proposed to do. The Hosokawa clan was pro-Tokugawa but did not get involved in the bloody flare-ups near the suburbs of the Capital when the opposing forces clashed at Toba and Fushimi. So Sadaki did not get into actual battle but was awarded a crest-emblazoned sword by Lord Hosokawa for meritorious service.
Soon the restoration became a fact, following the resignation of the shogun, and everybody in Japan became equal before the law. The caste system dividing the masses into samurai, farmers, artisans, and merchants was abolished and every avenue of professional or vocational advancement was opened to the ambitious and industrious. But the sudden release of an enormous number of samurai from the security of lifelong tenure and assurance of livelihood, created a tremendous social problem. As a professional soldier and retainer of a feudal lord, the life of a samurai was easy as long as he was loyal and his good faith reciprocated by the master. He would be fed and his descendants looked after by the daimyo.
This convenient arrangement was terminated and a new order prevailed. Each had to shift for himself in competition with men of other classes who were independent, diligent, and self-reliant. When the abolition of the feudal system took effect, the lords opened up their vaults and produced the reserve funds that had been stored to be used in case of emergencies and wars. Out of these monies a lump sum was distributed among the retainers so that their immediate needs might be taken care of. As is usually the case in these circumstances, the unscrupulous hatched out wild investment schemes with prospects of easy, fat returns. Gullibly, the samurai fell victim to these vultures and many lost their cash and government bonds that had been given them by their erstwhile lords and new government respectively.
The new government had issued bonds to the samurai to help them adjust to the sudden change in livelihood. Untrained in earning money, and brought up with the philosophy that even to touch money was disdainful, it was not long before many were reduced to a pitiful lot. Too proud either to work or to beg, the best they could do was to enter the police force or to join the new Westernized army in which they gradually adjusted their mode of thinking to the new era, but the aged and past middle age group suffered most with the advent of the restoration.
Sadaki Mayeda was among these retainers who had lost the promise of the future. He had to return either to farming or carpentry. In the meantime,
