Chapter 15
Acte de foi
April 12, 1898
London
To Kenji's relief, the gangway, went directly from the ship to a tall red brick building, completely avoiding the swarming docks below. As soon as they had entered London, the young man had been glued to the railing, looking at the merchant ships, the ferries and other boats that crowded the Thames. The gigantic warehouse on South Bank mesmerised him. He observed as the coolies loaded and unloaded cargo that, not unlike him, had or would most likely travel halfway across the earth. At the head of the Industrial Revolution, and sporting a population more than three times that of Japan in London alone, the British Empire was unique in the world. Or so had said Isaac. So far the American had been right about the overwhelming nature of the place, but London's nickname, The Old Smoke,had all but failed to warn the newcomers about the stench of the place. This cloying scent had a way of sticking to the inside of the nose with the added bonus of a coat of soot. Still, Kenji's curiosity had remained undeterred and he had stayed at his post. Sanosuke had been quick to hole himself in the cabin, preferring darkness over dark snot.
They crossed over to the building with Isaac who had offered to help them find their escort before parting ways. That is, if escort there was. Once the trip had been decided upon, they had elected to send a letter just three weeks ahead of themselves. They could only pray that Iribe Yumiko had received it. As they stepped inside the waiting room-cum-warehouse, Kenji was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the place. People milled around them, clipping them without looking back. The high vaulted ceiling amplified the voices, making the young man feel like the Gion Matsuri of the last ten years were happening all at once, in a fraction of the space. The unbearable human stench all but made his eyes water. He clenched his and his father's wrapped swords against his chest.
They made their way across the fray and finally stepped outside. Kenji coughed, the smoky air offering no relief, simply a different kind of unpleasantness. Isaac covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. The young man used his sleeve. Sanosuke coughed and wheezed. The American lead them to the side of the building where the passengers' luggage had been unloaded. On the street bordering the area, a few hansom cabs waited for clients. The drivers stared at the two Japanese men with curiosity. One of them hailed Kenji. He didn't get a word.
"What did he say?" he asked Isaac.
The man set his bag on his trunk, freshly retrieved from under the pile by a Chinese coolie.
"You don't want to know."
"Did he speak English?" insisted Kenji.
"I'm afraid I taught you American English. People speak differently here. You should be able to understand your relatives, mind you. That man just has a very thick Cockney accent." Isaac covered his nose again.
"But what did he say?" asked the young man, relentless.
"He ask where you get such nice skirt," answered the coolie pointing at Kenji..
He looked down at his hakama. Sanosuke guffawed. Isaac shook his head.
"Shouldn't you be helping these gentlemen?" he asked in a condescending voice.
"Maybe you pay first," replied the man without skipping a beat.
Isaac sighed and fished for a coin in his pocket. Sanosuke, who hadn't lost a moment of the exchange, raise his hand to stop the American. He suddenly, and to everyone's surprise, started to speak in Mandarin. The coolie first stared at him in awe, then the two of them stroke a conversation. As they spoke, Sanosuke helped the Chinese man look for their luggage. Mouth agape, Isaac and Kenji could only stare.
"Excuse me, gentlemen?"
Kenji turned around to find himself face to face with the blondest man he had ever seen in his entire life.
"Are you Mr Himura?"
"Yes?"
Relief washed on the stranger's face.
"I am Fersen Van Der Meer, your sister's husband," he introduced himself in flawless Japanese. Clearly, everyone except him had secret language skills. The Dutchman offered his hand. The young man stared at it.
"You should shake it," said Isaac, elbowing him. He did. It felt extremely awkward and intimate.
Isaac immediately extended his own hand to Fersen and introduced himself. They went back in forth in a rapid English that proved too fast for Kenji to follow. Isaac finally turned back to his pupil.
"I'm afraid this is where we part ways, my friend. I will only be in London for a month and Mr. Van de Meer here tells me you'll leave for the country soon. However should you have the chance, don't hesitate to call on me at my London address. You have my address in Boston, regardless."
Kenji thanked him profusely for his help. The American humbly deflected the praises. In the meantime, Sanosuke and his coolie friend had come back with their trunks. The two men laughed like old pals.
"Please tell your friend it was a pleasure to make his acquaintance."
Kenji duly translated. Isaac gave one last round of handshakes and hailed one of the hansom drivers.
"Come," said Fersen to the two remaining travelers. "You chariot awaits!"
They sat in the growler which advanced an inch at a time, caught in the evening traffic of theatre goers and other night wanderers. Their luggage had been fastened to the carriage by the driver with the help of the coolie. When had come the time to go their separate ways, Sanosuke had tried to give the man some money for his trouble but the man had refused. They had given each other the palm and fist salute before the Chinese man had walked away. Now Sanosuke was fast asleep and Kenji kept his face glued to the window, taking in the novelty and strangeness of the place. Fersen looked at him with an amused smile.
"Does it make you dizzy?" he asked.
"It is a little bit overwhelming," replied Kenji without looking away.
"Doesn't seem to bother Sagara-san."
Kenji smiled.
"He's a strange man."
The carriage jolted forward and for a moment they were moving at a decent pace. Then the whole thing came to a halt again. Kenji pointed at a gigantic building, and asked Fersen about it.
"That's the British Museum. We will take you if wish."
Kenji nodded. They remained silent for a while. Sanosuke snore
"I wish Ai could have seen it all," said Fersen.
The young man finally looked at his brother-in-law.
"What do you mean?"
The Dutchman looked surprised.
"You weren't told?"
Kenji frowned.
"Your sister is blind."
The oddness of Ai's eyes in the later pictures of her suddenly made sense.
"Oh… I'm sorry," managed the young man.
Fersen smiled.
"Don't be. She's been blind for most of her life. And she's quite the terror even without her eyesight. Plus if she could see, what would she say about his?" He pointed at his face and laughed some more. Kenji hesitated to join in, unsure if it would be rude.
"She'll probably tell you all about it."
The growler came to a halt. Fersen peeked outside.
"Here we are."
The driver stepped down and opened the door. Kenji elbowed Sanosuke in the ribs. The man jerked awake and followed his companion outside. They looked around. The gaslight lit up a square plaza lined on each side with an uninterrupted row of grey brick house facades, their windows lit up by orange glows. At the center, a lush garden with inviting paths and benches completed this tidy citadine picture. Although the place smelled much better, there still lingered in the air the scent of coal. The sounds of the city, although muffled, were still audible.
A red door opened and two men in full livery came out. Ferson instructed them in Dutch. One of the man picked up the bundle of wrapped swords. Kenji immediately snatched it from his hands and eyed his trunk. Sanosuke sat on his. The servant looked at his boss. Fersen nodded.
"You don't have to worry about anything, gentlemen. I would trust these two with my life. Your belongings are in good hands. Now if you'll follow me, Ai is waiting inside and she's very anxious to meet you."
As if on cue, a petite slender woman with hair that shone like fire in the gaslight stepped out of the house. Her arm was hooked around that of a maid who, rather than leading, was being lead decisively by her mistress.
"Fersen?"
"Here darling!"
He walked to meet her, taking over the poor girl who immediately retreated back into the house. The couple exchanged a few quick words in a hybrid language. Fersen gave her a kiss. Kenji couldn't help but stare at her. Although she wore her hair up a la Gibson girl and was clad in a fashionable pale western dress, she eerily resembled his – their – father. Sanosuke grinned. Ai finally closed the distance between them. The young boy stood to attention, unsure of what else to do.
"Kenji." she said with a Japanese pronunciation.
"Yes!" He stiffly replied. Sanosuke snickered
Without warning, she grabbed her brother's right shoulder and followed his arm down. Kenji stiffened.
"For God's sake, Ai, warn people before you assault them!" Fersen laughed, shaking his head.
She took Kenji's hand in hers. Her skin was soft, unlike his.
"I'm sorry, brother. Do I have your permission?"
He shook his head. She laughed.
"You might want to use your words. Although I felt that, I couldn't see it."
He felt his face grow warm. Despite the chill i the air, he started to sweat. Sanosuke, grateful for the comic relief, looked on the scene with amusement.
For a moment, she turned his this way and that, exploring his palm and fingers with her own. He remained still. The novelty of this proximity made him uncomfortable yet he had a strong desire to make a good impression. She reached for his left hand. He gave it to her. A smiled illuminated her face.
"Yes. There is no doubt about it. You are his son."