The Grotto of Dreams
- 3 years ago
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For the next week and a half Hyota did not speak to his mother. He came and went silently rebuffing her efforts to apologize for having slapped him. Like most modern Japanese Niomi was familiar with western customs and in such cultures she would have had every right to slap her drunken son, but Niomi had been raised traditionally and women were expected to be subservient to men even when the man was obviously in the wrong. Although Arora had never actually struck her, his obnoxious drunken binges had resulted in verbal abuse which Niomi had suffered in silence. She now worried even more about Hyota since his sullen silence made it obvious he was not only devastated by Miori's leaving but blamed it all on his mother.
He still partook of meals with his parents but ate in stoney silence, after which he would go into the village for rounds of drinking and partying not returning until the wee hours.
At first Niomi thought that time would begin to heal the rift but her latest attempt to right things with her son this morning had resulted only in his reiterating that she would be sorry, and with that, again turning his back on her and leaving.
Even though his father had agreed with Niomi's plan to rid her son of Miori, Hyota did not seem to hold Arora responsible. Partly perhaps because men in their society bonded so closely and also because they were now often drinking together and, no doubt, in their alcoholic haze blaming Niomi for the entire misfortune.
Niomi was not totally surprised when Arora, unannounced, brought home a guest for dinner relating that Hyota would be dining in the village. Her husband would sometimes bring a drinking friend home and expect Niomi to prepare a gracious meal with little time to prepare.
Tonight was different, however. Niomi had come to know most of Arora's drinking friends. This man she had never seen before. He was huge, over six feet and well in excess of two hundred pounds most of which seemed to be muscle. But although his frame was well conditioned he was not an attractive man at all. His hair was unkempt and his sharp nose accentuated a face that was deeply angular giving him an almost sinister appearance. His jaw displayed a ragged scar and one ear looked as if it had been cut partly away. His hands were gnarled, his fingernails ragged and uneven.
Niomi bowed as was the custom and led them into the living room then hurriedly began pulling together a meal. She had become quite adept at preparing meals on the spur of the moment. As a result the fish and rice dinner, although simple, was delicious.
Through the meal, however, the man, introduced as Kikata Nagura kept staring at Niomi making her feel uncomfortable. It was as if he was undressing her in his mind and the slight leer on his face kept her uneasy.
The man and Arora kept up a conversation, talking of men things, not even addressing Niomi who, as was the custom, said nothing until spoken to.
But as the conversation wore down the man again looked at the attractive wife and smiled.
"You have a lovely wife, Arora," he observed.
Niomi bowed her head in embarrassment.
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