inkled clothing. She looked strangely pitiful to me while she fumbled to unfold the 
sleeping robe she'd picked up from the table. Everything drooped from her, even her 
protruding nipples that hung like fingertips. The more I watched her, the more I came to feel 
that she must be struggling in that cloudy, old lady's mind of hers with thoughts of her own 
mother and father-who had probably sold her into slavery when she was a little girl-just as I 
had been struggling with thoughts of my own parents. Perhaps she had lost a sister too. I'd 
certainly never thought of Granny in this way before. I found myself wondering if she'd 
started life much as I had. It made no difference that she was a mean old woman and I was 
just a struggling little girl. Couldn't the wrong sort of living turn anyone mean? I remembered 
very well that one day back in Yoroido, a boy pushed me into a thorn bush near the pond. By 
the time I clawed my way out I was mad enough to bite through wood. If a few minutes of 
suffering could make me so angry, what would years of it do? Even stone can be worn down 
with enough rain. 

If I hadn't already resolved to run away, I'm sure I would have been terrified to think of the 
suffering that probably lay in wait for me in Gion. Surely it would make me into the sort of old 
woman Granny had become. But I comforted myself with the thought that by the following 
day I could begin forgetting even my memories of Gion. I already knew how I would reach 
the roof; as to how I would climb from there to the street. . . well, I wasn't at all sure. I would 
have no choice but to take my chances in the dark. Even if I did make it down without hurting 
myself, reaching the street would be only the beginning of my troubles. However much life in 
Gion was a struggle, life after running away would surely be more of a struggle. The world 
was simply too cruel; how could I survive? I lay on my futon in anguish for a while, wondering 
if I really had the strength to do it... but Satsu would be waiting for me. She would know what 
to do. 

Quite some time passed before Granny settled down in her room. By then the maids were 
snoring loudly. I pretended to turn over on my futon in order to steal a glance at Pumpkin, 
kneeling on the floor not far away. I couldn't see her face well, but I had the impression she 
was growing drowsy. Originally I'd planned to wait until she fell asleep, but I had no idea of 
the time any longer; and besides, Hatsumomo might come home at any moment. I sat up as 
quietly as I could, thinking that if anyone noticed me I would simply go to the toilet and come 
back again. But no one paid me any attention. A robe for me to wear on the following 
morning lay folded on the floor nearby. I took it in my arms and went straight for the stairwell. 

Outside Mother's door, I stood listening for a while. She didn't usually snore, so I couldn't 
judge anything from the silence, except that she wasn't talking on the telephone or making 
any other sort of noise. Actually, her room wasn't completely silent because her little dog, 
Taku, was wheezing in his sleep. The longer I listened, the more his wheezing sounded like 
someone saying my name: "CHI-yo! CHI-yo!" I wasn't prepared to sneak out of the okiya until 
I'd satisfied myself Mother was asleep, so I decided to slide the door open and have a look. If 
she was awake, I would simply say I thought someone had called me. Like Granny, Mother 
slept with the lamp on her table illuminated; so when I opened the door a crack and peered 
in, I could see the parched bottoms of her feet sticking out of the sheets. Taku lay between 
her feet with his chest rising and falling, making that wheezy noise that sounded so much like 
my name. 


I shut her door again and changed my clothes in the upstairs hallway. The only thing I lacked 
now was shoes-and I never considered running away without them, which ought to give you 
some idea how much I'd changed since the summer. If Pumpkin hadn't been kneeling in the 
front entrance hall, I would have taken a pair of the wooden shoes used for walking along the 
dirt corridor. Instead I took the shoes reserved for use in the upstairs toilet. They were of a 
very poor quality, with a single leather thong across the top to hold them in place on the foot. 
To make matters worse, they were much too big for me; but I had no other option. 

After closing the trapdoor silently behind me, I stuffed my sleeping robe under the gravity-
feed tank and managed to climb up and straddle my legs over the ridge of the roof. I won't 
pretend I wasn't frightened; the voices of people on the street certainly seemed a long way 
below me. But I had no time to waste being afraid, for it seemed to me that at any moment 
one of the maids, or even Auntie or Mother, might pop up through the trapdoor looking for 
me. I put the shoes onto my hands to keep from dropping them and began scooting my way 
along the ridge, which proved to be more difficult than I'd imagined. The roof tiles were so 
thick they made almost a small step where they overlapped, and they clanked against one 
another when I shifted my weight unless I moved very slowly. Every noise I made echoed off 
the roofs nearby. 

I took several minutes to cross just to the other side of our okiya. The roof of the building next 
door was a step lower than ours. I climbed down onto it and stopped a moment to look for a 
path to the street; but despite the moonlight, I could see only a sheet of blackness. The roof 
was much too high and steep for me to consider sliding down it on a gamble. I wasn't at all 
sure the next roof would be better; and I began to feel a bit panicky. But I continued along 
from ridge to ridge until I found myself, near the end of the block, looking down on one side 
into an open courtyard. If I could make my way to the gutter, I could scoot around it until I 
came to what I thought was probably a bath shed. From the top of the bath shed, I could 
climb down into the courtyard easily. 

I didn't relish the thought of dropping into the middle of someone else's house. I had no doubt 
it was an okiya; all the houses along our block were. In all likelihood someone would be 
waiting at the front door for the geisha to return, and would grab me by the arm as I tried to 
run out. And what if the front door was locked just as ours was? I wouldn't even have 
considered this route if I'd had any other choice. But I thought the path down looked safer 
than anything I'd seen yet. 

I sat on the ridge a long while listening for any clues from the courtyard below. All I could 
hear was laughter and conversation from the street. I had no idea what I would find in the 
courtyard when I dropped in, but I decided I'd better make my move before someone in my 
okiya discovered me gone. If I'd had any idea of the damage I was about to do to my future, I 
would have spun around on that ridge as fast as I could have and scooted right back where 
I'd come from. But I knew nothing of what was at stake. I was just a child who thought she 
was embarking on a great adventure. 

I swung my leg over, so that in a moment I was dangling along the slope of the roof, just 
barely clinging to the ridge. I realized with some panic that it was muc'h steeper than I'd 
thought it would be. I tried to scamper back up, but I couldn't do it. With the toilet shoes on 
my hands, I couldn't grab onto the ridge of the roof at all, but only hook my wrists over it. I 
knew I had committed myself, for I would never manage to climb back up again; but it 
seemed to me that the very moment I let go, I would slide down that roof out of control. My 
mind was racing with these thoughts, but before I'd made the decision to let go of the ridge, it 
let go of me. At first I glided down more slowly than I would have expected, which gave me 
some hope I might stop myself farther down, where the roof curved outward to form the 
eaves. But then my foot dislodged one of the roof tiles, which slid down with a clattering 


noise and shattered in the courtyard below. The next thing I knew, I lost my grip on one of 
the toilet shoes and it slid right past me. 

I heard the quiet plop as it landed below, and then a much worse sound-the sound of 
footsteps coming down a wooden walkway toward the courtyard. 

Many times I had seen the way flies stood on a wall or ceiling just as if they were on level 
ground. Whether they did it by having sticky feet, or by not weighing very much, I had no 
idea, but when I heard the sound of someone walking below, I decided that whatever I did I 
would find a way of sticking to that roof just as a fly might do, and I would find it right away. 
Otherwise I was going to end up sprawled in that courtyard in another few seconds. I tried 
digging my toes into the roof, and then my elbows and knees. As a final act of desperation I 
did the most foolish thing of all-I slipped the shoe from my other hand and tried to stop myself 
by pressing my two palms against the roof tiles. My palms must have been dripping with 
sweat, because instead of slowing down I began to pick up speed the moment I touched 
them to the roof. I heard myself skidding with a hissing sound; and then suddenly the roof 
was no longer there. 

For a moment I heard nothing; only a frightening, empty silence. As I fell through the air I had 
time to form one thought clearly in my mind: I pictured a woman stepping into the courtyard, 
looking down to see the shattered tile on the ground, and then looking up toward the roof in 
time to see me fall out of the sky right on top of her; but of course this isn't what happened. I 
turned as I fell, and landed on my side on the ground. I had the sense to bring an arm up to 
protect my head; but still I landed so heavily that I knocked myself into a daze. I don't know 
wher