“No need to say anything. Isn’t that so?”
O-Teru beams. She blinks her big eyes and nods repeatedly.
“Well, I really must be going now,” says Ojii-san. “I’ll be back.”
O-Suzu seems appalled by hiscasual attitude.
“My! You’re leaving already? You nearly freeze to death in the forest searching for O-Teru-san, and now that you’ve finally found her you leave without so much as a gentle word?”
“I’m not one for gentle words.” Ojii-san smiles wryly and climbs to his feet.
“O-Teru-san, he says he’s leaving. Is that all right with you?”
O-Teru smiles and nods.
“What a pair!” O-Suzu says, and laughs. “Well, please come again soon!”
“I will,” Ojii-san says solemnly. He begins to walk out but stops. “Where are we, anyway?”
“In the bamboo forest.”
“Oh? I don’t remember seeing a house like this in the forest.”
“It’s here,” O-Suzu says and exchanges a smile with O-Teru. “But it’s not visible to the average person. We’ll bring you here any time you like. You need only lie face down in the snow at that same entrance to the forest.”
“That’s good to know,” Ojii-san says, and he means it. He steps out on the green-bamboo veranda. O-Suzu leads him back to the pretty little room, and there, lined up in a row, are wicker baskets of various sizes.
“We’re ashamed not to have been able to entertain you after you’ve gone to so much trouble to visit,” O-Suzu says, resuming a more formal tone. “At least allow us to give you a souvenir as a memento of your visit. Please choose whichever of these baskets you’d like.”
“No, thanks. I don’t need anything like that,” Ojii-san mutters irritably, without so much as glancing at the baskets. “Where’s my footwear?”
“Please. I must ask you to take one!” O-Suzu says with a sob in her voice. “If not, O-Teru-san will be angry with me!”
“No she won’t. That child’s not one to get angry. I know. But where’s my footwear? I’m sure I was wearing a pair of dirty old straw boots.”
“Those things? We threw them away. You’ll have to go home barefoot.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Then take one of these gift baskets with you. Please, I implore you.” O-Suzu presses her little hands together.
Ojii-san forces a grim smile and looks over at the baskets.
“They’re all so big. Too big. I hate carrying things when I walk. Don’t you have anything that would fit in my pocket?”
“Why must you be so difficult?”
“I’ll just leave as I am, then. I’m not going to carry anything.” Ojii-san prepares to hop down from the veranda in his bare feet.
“Wait. Please. I’ll go ask O-Teru-san.”
O-Suzu flies with flapping kimono sleeves back to the inner chamber. Moments later she returns with an ear of rice between her teeth.
“Here you are. This is O-Teru-san’s hairpin. Don’t forget about her. And please come back soon.”
Ojii-san suddenly comes to his senses. He’s lying face down in the snow at the entrance to the bamboo forest. Was it just a dream? But in his right fist is the ear of rice. A ripe ear of rice in midwinter is a rare thing. It emits a rose-like fragrance too—a very nice fragrance. Ojii-san carries the ear home and plops it in his brush holder.
“My! What’s this?” Gimlet-eyed Obaa-san looks up from her sewing.