The Sound of Waves by Yukio Mishima Page B

Hatsue? What do you mean by omeko ?”
    “Don’t you even know that? It means when a boy and a girl sleep together!”
    Actually, Sochan himself knew little more about the word than this. But he knew how to smear his explanation thoroughly with insulting colors, and in a fit of rage Hiroshi went flying at Sochan.
    Before he realized it, Sochan felt his shoulders grabbed and his cheek slapped. But the scuffle ended disappointingly soon: when Sochan was knocked against the wall the two remaining candles fell to the ground and went out.
    In the cavern there remained only the dim light, barely sufficient for them to see each other’s faces vaguely. Hiroshi and Sochan were still facing each other, breathing hard, but they gradually realized what danger they were inviting by fighting in such a spot.
    Katchan intervened, saying:
    “Stop fighting! Can’t you see it’s dangerous here?”
    So they struck matches, found their candles, and went crawling out of the cave, saying practically nothing.…
    By the time they had scrambled up the cliff, bathed in the bright light of outdoors, and reached the ridge of the promontory, they were again as good friends as ever, seemingto have forgotten all about their fight of a little while before. They walked the narrow path along the ridge of the promontory singing:
Along the Five League Beach of Benten-Hachijo ,
And all along the Garden Beach …
    This Five League Beach was the most beautiful stretch of coastline on the island, lying along the western side of Benten Promontory. Halfway along the beach towered a huge rock called Hachijo Isle, as tall as a two-storied house, and, just now, among the rank-growing vines on its summit, there were four or five playful urchins, waving their hands and shouting something.
    The three boys waved back in reply and walked on along the path. Here and there in the soft grass among the pine trees there were patches of milk vetch blooming red.
    “Look! the seining boats!” Katchan pointed to the sea off the eastern shore of the promontory.
    On that shore the Garden Beach embraced a lovely little cove, and at its mouth there were now three seining boats floating motionless, waiting for the tide. These were the boats that manipulated the drag-nets as they were pulled along the ocean floor by larger vessels.
    Hiroshi said “Look!” also and, together with his friends, squinted out over the dazzling sea, but the words Sochan had spoken earlier still weighed on his spirit, seeming to become heavier and heavier as time passed.
    At suppertime Hiroshi returned home with an empty stomach. Shinji was not yet home and his mother was alone, feeding brushwood into the cookstove. There wasthe sound of the crackling wood and the windlike sound of the fire inside the stove, and it was only at times like this that delicious smells erased the stench of the toilet.
    “Mother,” Hiroshi said, lying spread-eagled on the straw matting.
    “What?”
    “What’s omeko? Somebody said that’s what Shinji did to Hatsue. What’d they mean?”
    Before Hiroshi realized it, his mother had left the stove and was sitting straight beside the spot where he lay. Her eyes were flashing strangely, flashing through some fallen strands of hair to give her a frightening look.
    “Hiroshi—you—where’d you hear that? Who said such a thing?”
    “Sochan.”
    “Don’t you ever say that again! You mustn’t even say that to your brother. If you do, it’ll be many a day before I give you anything to eat again. Do you hear what I say?”
    The mother took a very tolerant view of young people’s amorous affairs. And even during the diving season, when everyone stood about the drying-fire gossiping, she held her tongue. But when it came to its being her own son’s affair that was the subject of malicious gossip, then there was a motherly duty that she would have to perform.
    That night, after Hiroshi was asleep, the mother leaned close to Shinji’s ear and spoke in a low, firm