“Ah,” the doctor said to the girl, “it’s you again, is it? Same trouble?”
She nodded. “Yes, Dr. Ogata.”
“Let’s see, then.”
She got to her feet and repeated the disrobing process, turning her lacerated back toward Ogata. He gave a soundless whistle.
“Girl,” he said, “you won’t survive the next one. I told you to come live with me.”
At this Tora lost his patience. “You filthy old lecher,” he growled. “Passing yourself off as a healer when you’re a drunk.
And then you want to get the poor girl in your bed before you’ve even treated her back. Get out of here. I’ll send for a real doctor.” Little Flower cried out a protest, but the doctor just turned to stare at Tora. He chuckled. “Well, well, girl, that’s more like it. A handsome fellow, and considerate. Not like that animal you’ve been consorting with. Take my advice and stick with this one.” Tora glared at the fat man, and Little Flower flushed scarlet and averted her face. She pulled the gown around her and murmured, “He just wanted information. Nothing else.”
“Hmm.” Ogata looked from one to the other, scratched his bald head, and grinned at Tora. “Sit down, young man, or step outside. You’re making me nervous, hanging over me like a mountain. Now, as to my fee, you can pay me five coppers or two flasks of wine, whichever you prefer. You don’t want the other doctor. He knows nothing about the way these girls must live and would make trouble for her.” Turning back to Little Flower, he said, “All right. You know the routine. Lie down. It’ll hurt this time, but you’ve waited too long and I must clean some of the poison out.”
“What poison?” demanded Tora suspiciously, as Little Flower spread her robe and stretched out on it. “Did the bastard rub poison on her back after beating her half to death?”
“No, no.” Ogata was peering closely at the welts, pressing them with his fingers from time to time. “Leeches,” he muttered.
“That’s what we need. Well, I don’t have any, but I’ll do the best I can.” He turned to Tora. “Don’t you know anything? Miasma are all about us, in the air, on the ground, in our clothing, just waiting to enter our bodies. The dead rot because of the poisonous miasma about us. Sometimes even the living rot if the poison gets into their wounds. Miasma are why the gods warn against touching the dead and demand we cleanse our hands and mouths before addressing them in prayer. In her case, they’ve invaded some of the cuts and poisoned them. Leeches would suck out the poison, but there are other methods. Go fetch some warm water and two or three eggs.” Tora’s skin itched. He retreated nervously. Miasma? Eggs?
Afraid to show more ignorance, Tora did not ask. He found the landlady and relayed the doctor’s instructions, then asked worriedly, “Are you sure that fellow’s any good? He’s drunk and looks filthy, quite apart from being old and not too healthy himself.” To his surprise, Oyoshi glared at him, “Around here people better watch what they say about the doctor. He may not look like much, but he’s saved a lot of poor girls, and men, too. Often he doesn’t charge them anything. Besides, he’s the coroner, which means he’s smart. The government pays him a salary for
that and for treating the prisoners. Maybe if people had to see the things he does, they’d drink, too.” She left him standing in the hallway to get the water and eggs, still muttering to herself.
Tora was astonished at her outburst, but even more surprised that the fat drunk was the coroner. And he looked after sick prisoners. Forgetting all about noxious miasma, Tora turned on his heel and plunged back into the small room so suddenly that he bumped into Ogata’s formidable backside. The physician had been standing bent over his medicine case and tumbled forward, causing Little Flower to cry out.
“Sorry,” Tora cried. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. Please don’t worry,” Little Flower said with an adoring look. “You’re very kind and generous, Master Tora.”
“Speak for yourself, girl.” Ogata straightened up, rubbing his posterior, when he caught her expression. He turned to look Tora over. “A soldier, eh? Not from around here, are you, son?” Tora, the newly promoted lieutenant, considered this somewhat condescending from a drunken quack, but under the circumstances he swallowed his pride, and said, “No. On temporary assignment from Echigo.”
“Echigo, eh? Been here long?”
“I arrived today.”
“Really? Staying long?”
If it had not been for the fact that Tora had his own questions for the doctor, he would have balked, but he only said,
“As long as it takes. Tell me something, please. How can you people let an animal like that Wada terrorize decent citizens?
Where I come from, there are laws to protect people against bad officials.”
The physician snorted. “So they say. And some have died proving it. You can’t blame the rest of us for postponing the experiment a little while longer.”
Oyoshi bustled in with a bucket of water and two eggs in a small bowl. “Sorry,” she said, catching her breath. “Had to run across the street for the eggs. They cost a copper apiece.” Tora fished the coins from his sash and paid her. He wondered if he had paid for the doctor’s snack, but Ogata took the eggs and sat down next to Little Flower. Tora and the landlady watched as he gently washed the lacerated skin, occasionally squeezing swollen areas, while Little Flower bit into the sleeve of her gown to keep from crying out. When he was satisfied that he had cleaned out most of the poison, he broke the eggs and dabbed egg white over the wounds.
“Lie still and let it dry,” he told the girl.
“What’s the egg for?” Tora wanted to know.
“Draws out the poison.”
They sat and waited. Tora studied Ogata and finally said, “I hear you’re the coroner.”
Ogata nodded.
“So you know all about the murdered prince, I suppose?” Ogata shifted a little to look at him. “That have anything to do with your business in Sadoshima?” Blast the man. He answered questions with more questions.
Tora said, “No. I was just curious.”
“I did not see the body. The prince’s own physician did that.
You’ll have to ask him.”
“What happened at the hearing?”
Ogata cocked his head. “Sure you’re not officially interested?” Tora flushed. “I went to see the governor today. He mentioned that his son escaped.”
Ogata nodded. “Yes. Smartest thing he could do. Took his girl along. Or maybe it was the other way around.” He leaned forward and tested the drying egg white on Little Flower’s back.
Then he reached into his medicine case for a twist of paper and sprinkled some white powder over her back. “Since you’re going to ask me anyway, this is powdered oyster shell. It dries out the wounds.” He started to close his medicine box. “Well, girl,” he said to his patient, “stay off your back for a few days and you should do all right. I’ll look in again tomorrow.” Tora got up and fished more coins from his sash. “If your work’s finished for the day,” he said, handing over the fee, “I’d like to stand you that wine, too.”
“A man with a generous heart,” Ogata said cheerfully. They started to leave the room, when Little Flower called out to Tora.
She was kneeling, clutching her robe to herself. “Would you help me with this, please?”
Tora helped her up and took the robe from her. She was so pitifully thin, her small hands fluttering as she tried to cover her nakedness, that his heart contracted with pity. He placed the robe gently around her shoulders, then tucked each small arm into the full sleeve, when she reached up and pulled his face down to hers. “Please don’t go,” she whispered. “I feel quite well now.”
He disentangled himself, flushing with embarrassment because he did not desire her. “Shame on you, Little Flower,” he said lightly, bending for her sash. “You heard the doctor. You have to lie down now and get some rest.” Tears rose to her eyes and spilled over. She looked exactly like a forlorn little girl. He pulled her gown together, then draped the sash loosely about her small waist and tied it in a clumsy bow.
“Will you come back?” she pleaded. “It won’t cost anything.
Just come back, please?”
