 younger sister. 
Hatsumomo had already been older sister to at least two well-known young geisha in Gion. 
Instead of torturing them as she had me, she'd behaved herself well. It was her choice to 
take them on, and she did it for the money it would bring her. But in my case, Hatsumomo 
could no more have been counted on to help me in Gion and then be content with the few 
extra yen it would bring her than a dog can be counted on to escort a cat down the street 
without taking a bite out of it in the alley. Mother could certainly have compelled Hatsumomo 
to be my older sister-not only because Hatsumomo lived in our okiya, but also because she 
had so few kimono of her own and was dependent on the okiya's collection. But I don't think 
any force on earth could have compelled Hatsumomo to train me properly. I'm sure that on 
the day she was asked to take me to the Mizuki Teahouse and introduce me to the mistress 
there, she would have taken me instead to the banks of the river and said, "Kamo River, 
have you met my new younger sister?" and then pushed me right in. 

As for the idea of another geisha taking on the task of training me . . . well, it would mean 
crossing paths with Hatsumomo. Few geisha in Gion were brave enough to do such a thing. 

Late one morning a few weeks after my encounter with Mameha, I was serving tea to Mother 
and a guest in the reception room when Auntie slid open the door. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Auntie said, "but I wonder if you would mind excusing yourself for just 
a moment, Kayoko-san." Kayoko was Mother's real name, you see, but we rarely heard it 
used in our okiya. "We have a visitor at the door." 

Mother gave one of her coughing laughs when she heard this. "You must be having a dull 
day, Auntie," she said, "to come announce a visitor yourself. The maids don't work hard 
enough as it is, and now you're doing their jobs for them." 

"I thought you'd rather hear from me," Auntie said, "that our visitor is Mameha." 

I had begun to worry that nothing would come of my meeting with Mameha. But to hear that 
she had suddenly appeared at our okiya . . . well, the blood rushed to my face so intensely 
that I felt like a lightbulb just switched on. The room was perfectly quiet for a long moment, 
and then Mother's guest said, "Mameha-san . . . well! I'll run along, but only if you promise to 
tell me tomorrow just what this is all about." 

I took my opportunity to slip out of the room as Mother's guest was leaving. Then in the 
formal entrance hall, I heard Mother say something to Auntie I'd never imagined her saying. 
She was tapping her pipe into an ashtray she'd brought from the reception room, and when 
she handed the ashtray to me, she said, "Auntie, come here and fix my hair, please." I'd 
never before known her to worry in the least about her appearance. It's true she wore elegant 
clothing. But just as her room was filled with lovely objects and yet was hopelessly gloomy, 
she herself may have been draped in exquisite fabrics, but her eyes were as oily as a piece 
of old, smelly fish . . . and really, she seemed to regard her hair the way a train regards its 
smokestack: it was just the thing that happened to be on top. 

While Mother was answering the door, I stood in the maids' room cleaning out the ashtray. 
And I worked so hard to overhear Mameha and Mother that it wouldn't have surprised me if I 
had strained all the muscles in my ears. 


First Mother said, "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mameha-san. What an honor to have a 
visit from you!" 

Then Mameha said, "I hope you'll forgive me for calling so unexpectedly, Mrs. Nitta." Or 
something equally dull. And it went on this way for a while. All my hard work in overhearing it 
was about as rewarding to me as a man who lugs a chest up the hill only to learn that it's full 
of rocks. 

At last they made their way through the formal entrance hall to the reception room. I was so 
desperate to overhear their conversation that I grabbed a rag from the maids' room and 
began polishing the floor of the entrance hall with it. Normally Auntie wouldn't have permitted 
me to work there while a guest was in the reception room, but she was as preoccupied with 
eavesdropping as I was. When the maid came out after serving tea, Auntie stood to one side 
where she wouldn't be seen and made sure the door was left open a crack so she could 
hear. I listened so closely to their small talk that I must have lost track of everything around 
me, for suddenly I looked up to see Pumpkin's round face staring right into mine. She was on 
her knees polishing the floor, even though I was already doing it and she wasn't expected to 
do chores anymore. 

"Who is Mameha?" she whispered to me. 

Obviously she had overheard the maids talking among themselves; I could see them huddled 
together on the dirt corridor just at the edge of the walkway. 

"She and Hatsumomo are rivals," I whispered back. "She's the one whose kimono 
Hatsumomo made me put ink on." 

Pumpkin looked like she was about to ask something else, but then we heard Mameha say, 
"Mrs. Nitta, I do hope you'll forgive me for disturbing you on such a busy day, but I'd like to 
talk with you briefly about your maid Chiyo." 

"Oh, no," Pumpkin said, and looked into my eyes to show how sorry she felt for the trouble I 
was about to be in. 

"Our Chiyo can be a bit of a nuisance," Mother said. "I do hope she hasn't been troubling 
you." 

"No, nothing like that," Mameha said. "But I noticed she hasn't been attending the school 
these past few weeks. I'm so accustomed to running into her from time to time in the hallway 
. . . Just yesterday I realized she must be terribly ill! I've recently met an extremely capable 
doctor. I wonder, shall I ask him to stop by?" 

"It's very kind of you," said Mother, "but you must be thinking of a different girl. You couldn't 
have run into our Chiyo in the hallway at the school. She hasn't attended lessons there for 
two years." 

"Are we thinking of the same girl? Quite pretty, with startling blue-gray eyes?" 

"She does have unusual eyes. But there must be two such girls in Gion . . . Who would have 
thought it!" 

"I wonder if it's possible that two years have passed since I saw her there," Mameha said. 
"Perhaps she made such a strong impression it still seems very recent. If I may ask, Mrs. 
Nitta ... is she quite well?" 


"Oh, yes. As healthy as a young sapling, and every bit as unruly, if I do say so." 

"Yet she isn't taking lessons any longer? How puzzling." 

"For a young geisha as popular as you, I'm sure Gion must seem an easy place to make a 
living. But you know, times are very difficult. I 

can't afford to invest money in just anyone. As soon as I realized how poorly suited Chiyo 
was-" 

"I'm quite sure we're thinking of two different girls," Mameha said. "I can't imagine that a 
businesswoman as astute as you are, Mrs. Nitta, would call Chiyo 'poorly suited'. . ." 

"Are you certain her name is Chiyo?" Mother asked. 

None of us realized it, but as she spoke these words, Mother was rising from the table and 
crossing the little room. A moment later she slid open the door and found herself staring 
directly into Auntie's ear. Auntie stepped out of the way just as though nothing had 
happened; and I suppose Mother was content to pretend the same, for she did nothing more 
than look toward me and say, "Chiyo-chan, come in here a moment." 

By the time I slid the door shut behind me and knelt on the tatami mats to bow, Mother had 
already settled herself at the table again. 

"This is our Chiyo," Mother said. 

"The very girl I was thinking of!" said Mameha. "How do you do, Chiyo-chan? I'm happy that 
you look so healthy! I was just saying to Mrs. Nitta that I'd begun to worry about you. But you 
seem quite well." 

"Oh, yes, ma'am, very well," I answered. 

"Thank you, Chiyo," Mother told me. I bowed to excuse myself, but before I could rise to my 
feet, Mameha said: 

"She's really quite a lovely girl, Mrs. Nitta. I must say, at times I've thought of coming to ask 
your permission to make her my younger sister. But now that she's no longer in training ..." 

Mother must have been shocked to hear this, because although she'd been on the point of 
taking a sip of tea, her hand stopped on its way to her mouth and remained motionless there 
during the time it took me to leave the room. I was nearly back to my place on the floor of the 
entrance hall when she finally responded. 

"A geisha as popular as you, Mameha-san . . . you could have any apprentice in Gion as 
your younger sister." 

"It's true I'm often asked. But I haven't taken on a new younger sister in more than a year. 
You'd think that with this terrible Depression, customers would have slowed to a trickle, but 
really, I've never been so busy. I suppose the rich just go right on being rich, even in a time 
like this." 

"They need their fun more than ever now," Mother said. "But you were saying ..." 

"Yes, what was I saying? Well, it makes no difference. I mustn't take any more of your time. 
I'm pleased that Chiyo is quite healthy after all." 


"Very healthy, yes. But, Mameha-san, wait a moment before you leave, if you don't mind. 
You were saying you'd almost considered taking on Chiyo as your younger sister?" 

"Well, by now she's been out of training so long . . ." Mameha said. "Anyway, I'm sure you 
have an excellent reason for the decision you've made, Mrs. Nitta. I wouldn't dare second-
guess you." 

"It's heartbreaking, the choices people are forced to make in these times. I just couldn't afford 
her training any longer! However, if you feel she has potential, Mameha-san, I'm sure any 
investment you might choose to make in her future would be amply repaid." 

Mother was trying to take ad