“Don’t say such things. Let’s bring him to her. O-Teru-san seems to want to see him too. She can’t speak, of course, without her tongue, but when we told her he was looking for her she just lay there shedding tears. I feel sorry for both of them. What do you say we join forces and try to help them out?”
“Not me. I’m not one who has any sympathy for affairs of the heart.”
“It’s not an affair of the heart. You just don’t understand. We want to help them, don’t we, everyone? This sort of thing isn’t about logic or reasoning.”
“Precisely, precisely. Allow me to take charge of the operation. There’s nothing to it. We’ll just ask the gods. Whenever you’re desperate to help someone else, against all reason, it’s best to ask the gods. My own father taught me that. He said that in such a situation the gods will grant you any wish you make. So just wait here for a bit, everyone, and I’ll go ask the god of the forest shrine.”
When Ojii-san suddenly opens his eyes, he finds himself in a pretty little room with bamboo pillars. He sits up and looks around just as a door slides open and a doll the size of an adult walks in.
“Oh! You’re awake!”
“Ah.” Ojii-san smiles good-naturedly. “But where am I?”
“The Sparrows Inn,” says the pretty, doll-like girl, kneeling politely in front of Ojii-san and blinking up at him with big, round eyes.
“I see.” Ojii-san nods serenely. “And you, then, are the sparrow who lost her tongue?”
“No, O-Teru-san is in bed in the inner chamber. My name is O-Suzu. I’m O-Teru-san’s best friend.”
“Is that so? Then the sparrow who had her tongue plucked out is named O-Teru?”
“Yes. She’s a very sweet and gentle person. You must go in and see her. The poor thing. She can’t speak, and all she does is weep.”
“Take me to her.” Ojii-san stands up. “Where’s her room?”
“This way, please.” With a flutter of her long kimono sleeves, O-Suzu rises and glides to the veranda. Ojii-san follows, taking care not to slip on the narrow walkway of slick green bamboo.
“Here we are. Please go in.”
The inner chamber is well lit. The ground outside is covered with bamboo grass through which babbles a shall
ow, swift-moving stream.
O-Teru is lying in her futon beneath a small red silk quilt. She is an even more elegant and beautiful doll than O-Suzu, though her cheeks are somewhat pale. She gazes at Ojii-san with big round eyes from which tears promptly begin to flow.
Ojii-san says nothing but sits on the floor beside her pillow and gazes out at the babbling stream. O-Suzu quietly retreats, leaving the two of them alone.
They don’t need to speak. Ojii-san sighs softly. But it’s not a melancholy sigh. He is experiencing peace of mind for the first time in his life, and this sigh is an expression of quiet happiness.
O-Suzu reappears to set out a tray of sake and snacks. “Enjoy,” she says, and withdraws once more.
Ojii-san pours himself a cup of sake and looks out at the garden stream again. Ojii-san is no drinker. One cup is enough to make him tipsy. He picks up the chopsticks and plucks a single bamboo shoot from the tray. It’s wonderfully delicious. But Ojii-san isn’t a big eater. He sets the chopsticks back down.
The door slides open again, and O-Suzu brings in more sake and a different dish. Kneeling before Ojii-san, she holds out the ceramic bottle and says, “Another cup?”
“No, thanks, I’ve had more than enough. Awfully good sake, though.” He isn’t just being polite. The words spill spontaneously from his lips.
“I’m glad you like it. We call it Dew of the Bamboo Grass.”
“It’s too good.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s too good.”
“Oh, look! O-Teru-san is smiling! She probably wants to say something, but...”
O-Teru shakes her head, and Ojii-san turns to address her directly for the first time.