ell him. But 
before I could answer, his eyebrows began to twitch, and a moment later he reached up and 
scratched his head so much that a little cloud of snow spilled onto his shoulders. As it turned 
out, he was known in Gion as "Mr. Snowshowers" because of his terrible dandruff. He 
seemed to have forgotten the question he'd asked me-or maybe he never expected me to 
answer it-because now he asked my age. I told him I was fourteen. 

"You're the oldest fourteen-year-old I've ever seen. Here, take this," he said, and handed me 
his empty sake cup. 

"Oh, no, thank you, sir," I replied, "for I'm only a novice . . ." This was what Mameha had 
taught me to say, but Mr. Snowshowers didn't listen. He just held the cup in the air until I took 
it, and then lifted up a vial of sake to pour for me. 

I wasn't supposed to drink sake, because an apprentice geisha- particularly one still in her 
novitiate-should appear childlike. But I couldn't very well disobey him. I held the sake cup out; 
but he scratched his head again before he poured, and I was horrified to see a few flecks 
settle into the cup. Mr. Snowshowers filled it with sake and said to me, "Now drink up. Go on. 
First of many." 

I gave him a smile and had just begun to raise the cup slowly to my lips-not knowing what 
else I could do-when, thank heavens, Mameha rescued me. 

"It's your first day in Gion, Sayuri. It won't do for you to get drunk," she said, though she was 
speaking for the benefit of Mr. Snow-showers. "Just wet your lips and be done with it." 

So I obeyed her and wet my lips with the sake. And when I say that I wet my lips, I mean I 
pinched them shut so tightly I nearly sprained my mouth, and then tipped the sake cup until I 
felt the liquid against my skin. Then I put the cup down on the table hurriedly and said, 
"Mmm! Delicious!" while reaching for the handkerchief in my obi. I felt very relieved when I 
patted my lips with it, and I'm happy to say that Mr. Snowshowers didn't even notice, for he 
was busy eyeing the cup as it sat there full on the table before him. After a moment he 
picked it up in two fingers and poured it right down his throat, before standing and excusing 
himself to use the toilet. 

An apprentice geisha is expected to walk a man to the toilet and back, but no one expects a 
novice to do it. When there isn't an apprentice in the room, a man will usually walk himself to 
the toilet, or sometimes one of the geisha will accompany him. But Mr. Snowshowers stood 
there gazing down at me until I realized he was waiting for me to stand. 

I didn't know my way around the Komoriya Teahouse, but Mr. Snowshowers certainly did. I 
followed him down the hall and around a corner. He stepped aside while I rolled open the 
door to the toilet for him. After I had closed it behind him and was waiting there in the 
hallway, I heard the sound of someone coming up the stairs, but I thought nothing of it. Soon 
Mr. Snowshowers was done and we made our way back. When I entered the room, I saw 
that another geisha had joined the party, along with an apprentice. They had their backs to 


the door, so that I didn't see their faces until I'd followed Mr. Snowshowers around the table 
and taken up my place once again. You can imagine how shocked I felt when I saw them; for 
there, on the other side of the table, was the one woman I would have given anything to 
avoid. It was Hatsumomo, smiling at me, and beside her sat Pumpkin. 

Chapter fifteen 

Hnatsumomo smiled when she was happy, like everybody else; and she was never happier 
than when she was about to make someone suffer. This is why she wore such a beautiful 
smile on her face when she said: 

"Oh, my goodness! What a peculiar coincidence. Why, it's a novice! I really shouldn't tell the 
rest of this story, because I might embarrass the poor thing." 

I hoped Mameha would excuse herself and take me with her. But she only gave me an 
anxious glance. She must have felt that leaving Hatsumomo alone with these men would be 
like running away from a house on fire; we'd be better off to stay and control the damage. 

"Really, I don't think there's anything more difficult than being a novice," Hatsumomo was 
saying. "Don't you think so, Pumpkin?" 

Pumpkin was a full-fledged apprentice now; she'd been a novice six months earlier. I glanced 
at her for sympathy, but she just stared at the table with her hands in her lap. Knowing her as 
I did, I understood that the little wrinkle at the top of her nose meant she felt upset. 

"Yes, ma'am," she said. 

"Such a difficult time of life," Hatsumomo went on. "I can still remember how hard I found it... 
What is your name, little novice?" 

Happily, I didn't have to respond, because Mameha spoke up. 

"You're certainly right about it being a difficult time of life for you, Hatsumomo-san. Though of 
course, you were more awkward than most." 

"I want to hear the rest of the story," said one of the men. 

"And embarrass the poor novice who's just joined us?" Hatsumomo said. "I'll tell it only if you 
promise that you won't think about this poor girl as you listen. Be sure to picture some other 
girl in your mind." 

Hatsumomo could be ingenious in her devilishness. The men might not have pictured the 
story happening to me earlier, but they certainly would now. 

"Let's see, where was I?" Hatsumomo began. "Oh, yes. Well, this novice I mentioned ... I 
can't remember her name, but I ought to give her one to keep you from confusing her with 
this poor girl. Tell me, little novice . . . what is your name?" 

"Sayuri, ma'am," I said. And my face felt so hot from nervousness that I wouldn't have been 
surprised if my makeup had simply melted and begun to drip onto my lap. 

"Sayuri. How lovely! Somehow it doesn't suit you. Well, let's call this novice in the story 
'Mayuri.' Now then, one day I was walking along Shijo Avenue with Mayuri, on our way to her 
older sister's okiya. There was a terrible wind, the sort that rattles the windows, and poor 
Mayuri had so little experience with kimono. She was no heavier than a leaf, and those big 


sleeves can be just like sails, you know. As we were about to cross the street, she 
disappeared, and I heard a little sound from behind me, like 'Ah . . . ah,' but very faint. . ." 

Here Hatsumomo turned to look at me. 

"My voice isn't high enough," she said. "Let me hear you say it. 'Ah . . . ah . . .'" 

Well, what could I do? I tried my best to make the noise. 

"No, no, much higher . . . oh, never mind!" Hatsumomo turned to the man beside her and 
said under her breath, "She isn't very bright, is she?" She shook her head for a moment and 
then went on. "Anyway, when I turned around, poor Mayuri was being blown backward up 
the street a full block behind me, with her arms and legs flailing so much she looked like a 
bug on its back. I nearly tore my obi laughing, but then all of a sudden she stumbled right off 
the curb into a busy intersection just as a car came zooming along. Thank heavens she was 
blowr^ onto the hood! Her legs flew up ... and then if you can picture this, the wind blew right 
up her kimono, and . . . well, I don't need to tell you what happened." 

"You certainly do!" one of the men said. 

"Don't you have any imagination?" she replied. "The wind blew her kimono right up over her 
hips. She didn't want everyone to see her naked; so to preserve her modesty, she flipped 
herself around and ended up with her legs pointing in two different directions, and her private 
parts pressed against the windshield, right in the driver's face . . ." 

Of course, the men were in hysterics by now, including the director, who tapped his sake cup 
on the tabletop like a machine gun, and said, "Why doesn't anything like this ever happen to 
me?" 

"Really, Mr. Director," Hatsumomo said. "The girl was only a novice! It's not as if the driver 
got to see anything. I mean, can you imagine looking at the private parts of this girl across 
the table?" She was talking about me, of course. "Probably she's no different from a baby!" 

"Girls sometimes start getting hair when they're only eleven," said one of the men. 

"How old are you, little Sayuri-san?" Hatsumomo asked me. 

"I'm fourteen, ma'am," I told her, just as politely as I could. "But I'm an old fourteen." 

Already the men liked this, and Hatsumomo's smile hardened a bit. 

"Fourteen?" she said. "How perfect! And of course, you don't have any hair ..." 

"Oh, but I do. A good deal of it!" And I reached up and patted one hand against the hair on 
my head. 

I guess this must have been a clever thing to do, although it didn't seem particularly clever to 
me. The men laughed harder than they'd laughed even at Hatsumomo's story. Hatsumomo 
laughed too, I suppose because she didn't want to seem as if the joke had been on her. 

As the laughter died down, Mameha and I left. We hadn't even closed the door behind us 
before we heard Hatsumomo excusing herself as well. She and Pumpkin followed us down 
the stairway. 


"Why, Mameha-san," Hatsumomo said, "this has simply been too much fun! I don't know why 
we haven't entertained together more often!" 

"Yes, it has been fun," said Mameha. "I just relish the thought of what the future holds!" 

After this, Mameha gave me a very satisfied look. She was relishing the thought of seeing 
Hatsumomo destroyed. 

That night after bathing and removing my makeup, I was standing in the formal entrance hall 
answering Auntie's questions about my day, when Hatsumomo came in from the street and 
stood before me. Normally she wasn't back so early, but I knew the moment I saw her face 
that she'd come back only for the purpose of confronting me. She wasn't even wearing her 
cruel smile, but had her lips pressed together in a way that looked almost unattract