Pagoda, Skull & Samurai Read online

  Genta was at a loss how to answer the tearful rambling of this old woman, who was ignorant of the circumstances, but deeply concerned over her son.

  <29>

  "Hachigorō, are you there? Someone's at the door," said Eiji.

  "Strange. It seems to be a woman," muttered Hachigorō, opening the door. "Calling at this time of night on a man who's got no interest in womanizing. Anyway, come in."

  "Sorry for the trouble, Hachi-san," said the visitor casually. As she extinguished her lantern and proceeded to take off her headcover, Hachigorō was amazed to recognize Okichi. He remembered that she had tipped him generously at the last Bon Festival and the New Year.

  "Boss, this is... well... you know...," announced Hachigorō hastily, trying to hide the discolored underwear that was peeking through the front opening of his quilted coat. For an Edoite, the broken phrases conveyed quite sufficient information.

  "Well, well. Welcome to my house, Okichi. Please sit down over there where it looks least dusty. Watch out, though—the cockroaches may crawl toward you. It can't be helped in an all-male household where dirt is the only decoration. If and when I marry a nice woman like you, she'll clean up the place," laughed Eiji.

  "Well, even then, you'll probably keep saying, 'It's so dirty,' just to irk her," retorted Okichi, also laughing.

  After exchanging a bit of small talk, Okichi turned serious. "Is Seikichi sleeping? I was worried, so I've come to see how he's doing."

  "Sei has just fallen asleep and is not likely to wake up for some time. It's not that he has a wound or his skull is cracked. According to the bone-setter, he fainted from over-agitation and the shock of severe beating. It's nothing serious, so you may take a look if you wish."

  Okichi followed Eiji and found Seikichi fast asleep in a small three-mat room. His face and head were swollen so pitifully that she almost resented Eiji's relentless beating, but there was nothing she could do about it. She returned to her seat and faced Eiji.

  "No doubt my husband is enraged by Seikichi's senseless attack, and as a matter of obligation to the Abbot and jūbei, he will either reprimand him or remove him from his employ. But Seikichi was not driven by his own personal grudge. No, it was on our behalf that he acted out his animosity, misplaced and unreasonable though it was. I cannot, therefore, sit idly by and watch what my husband will do to him. Besides, there is a certain specific reason why I must do everything within my power to help him. After considering the matter carefully, I have decided to send Seikichi out of Edo for a year or so. When people stop talking of the incident and my husband's ire has abated, there will be any number of ways to intercede in his behalf. I will entrust to you the money I have made ready for his trip. Please give it to him and explain the arrangement as you see fit. As you know, my husband is a forthright man. Whatever he may feel in his heart, he will make no allowance in punishing Seikichi. He will refuse to listen, no matter what the young man may have to say for himself. My intercession cannot change the rules of social obligation, which must be observed. Nevertheless, when a man is about to be made an outcast for an action which was not motivated by self-interest, I must do something about it. I can make sure that my husband looks after Sei-kichi's poor mother, as long as Seikichi stays out of town. But about my coming here and helping the youth behind his back, please keep it from my husband for at least for a while longer."

  "I understand. Remarkable! That's all, isn't it? Go home, go home. Genta may come here any minute. You shouldn't bump into him now."

  Reassured by Eiji's blunt but considerate advice, she entrusted the matter to him and went home. Just missing her, Genta next appeared to pronounce, as predicted, that Seikichi was to be forbidden access to his house and that he had severed the tie of master and disciple. Eiji smiled silently, while Seikichi apologized in tears.

  After Genta's visit that night, Seikichi wept again listening to Eiji. He vowed, "Even if I must turn into a dog, I shall never forgo my ties with Master and Madame!" A few days later he departed from Edo. Hachigorō accompanied him as far as the Hakone hot springs. From there, Seikichi was to follow the Tōkaidō road toward Kyoto and Osaka, but no doubt leaving his heart behind in Edo.

  <30>

  The morning after he was attacked, jūbei arose just as early as usual. Alarmed, Onami hastened to stop him. "Good heavens! What are you doing? Why don't you stay in bed and take it easy? The morning wind is especially cold today. What if you should contract tetanus? The water will soon be boiling, and I'll help you wash up in bed," she said anxiously as she started a fire under the chipped pot that hung over the broken kitchen stove.

  "There's no need to treat me like a sick man," laughed jūbei, unperturbed. "If you just wring the towel for me, I'll feel better to wash by myself." He poured water into a leaky pail and went about his morning routine with hardly a sign of distress. Unmindful of his wife's dismay and anxiety, he finished breakfast and stood up.

  As he shrugged off his robe and tried to change into his workman's pants and waistcoat, Onami gasped, "Heaven forbid! Where are you going? However important your work may be, the wound couldn't possibly have healed in one night, nor could the pain have diminished. Even the doctor said to lie still and not to move. He thinks you'll be all right, he said, but until the wound closes, caution should be your utmost concern. Do you mean to go against the doctor's orders? You're too headstrong for your own good. Even if you get to the site, you won't be able to do any physical work. Who would blame you for staying home today? If you still feel obligated to go, I'll run over to see the Abbot and personally request three or four days' leave for you. There's no reason why the merciful Abbot wouldn't grant your request. He'd surely tell you to take care of yourself and not to act imprudently. No, please put these clothes back on and stay still in the house, at least until the wound is closed."

  She tried her best to stop him, placating and soothing him. When she picked up the kimono he had just taken off and tried to put it back on him, he brushed it aside with his able right arm.

  "I don't need that! If you want to be useful, help me into my waistcoat."

  "Now, now. Don't say that. Please stay home."

  She draped the discarded kimono over his shoulders, but he flung it away again. Man is a creature of pride, while woman is a creature of sentiment; no amount of bickering could bring them to terms.

  At last jūbei grew a little angry. "What an annoying, ignorant female! How dare you stand in my way! All right, I won't ask for your help. I'll get dressed by myself. How could I keep command of my men if I took time off from work because of such a slight scratch? You probably have no idea, but because I've always been regarded as a simpleton, the workmen have little respect for me. In my presence they pretend to follow my orders, but behind my back they neglect their work, speak against me, and make fun of me. Even though they assume a respectful attitude on the surface, not a single one among them works for me with the sincere intention of doing a good job. You don't know how miserable that makes me feel! When I tell them to warm up to their work and put in real effort instead of merely making a show of it, they bow their heads only to hide their sneers. If I rebuke them, they apologize in words but show defiance in their eyes. If I swallow my pride and ask them humbly, they grow presumptuous enough to take advantage of me. It's vexing, disheartening. It may sound grand to be addressed 'Boss' and 'Master' by so many people day after day, but I'm in constant agony, so much so that I think I'd be far better off employed by someone else even as a ditch digger.

  "Against such odds, I've carried the work up to this point. If I took a day off now, it would bring on a major setback. The men would start neglecting their work openly, excusing themselves for leaving early because of a chest pain, or for being late on account of a headache. If I myself take days off, I won't be able to utter a word of reproach. Our progress would slow down to the sporadic pace of dripping rainwater, and my project would fail when it could be done well. If I should fail in this job, how could I ever face the Abbot and M
aster Genta? You see, if I can't complete the pagoda, I will be nothing, a living corpse. On the other hand, even if building the pagoda should cost me my life, I would live forever in my work. Can I stay in bed with an adze wound only a couple of inches long? Which should I fear more, tetanus or failure? Had I lost my entire arm, I would still not miss a day of work. I would get to the site every day until the pagoda is finished if I had to be carried in a palanquin or by any other means. All the more so with such a trifling scratch!"

  Jūbei tried to put his left arm in the waistcoat which he had snatched from Onami's hand, but pain made him grimace. Onami was no longer able to protest. Carefully shielding his wound, she helped her husband squeeze into a short coat and workman's pants, and saw him off to work against her better judgment.

  Meanwhile, taking it for granted that jūbei would not come to work, the workmen began to straggle in around ten o'clock. But as soon as their astonished eyes alighted on jūbei, they were told, "I'm very pleased that you are so conscientious in coming to work today." Jūbei's greeting made each one break into a cold sweat. From that day on, they all became assiduous in their work, and their attitude took a complete turn. They accomplished three times more than was expected of them and moved twice as eagerly. Nossori gained numerous other hands after losing the use of one arm, and his work made remarkable progress. By the time his shoulder wound healed, the pagoda was nearly finished.

  <31>

  Toward the end of the first month it was obvious that the painstaking work of Nossori jūbei had not been in vain. The magnificent Shōun, that is, Cloud-Bearing, Pagoda of Kanno, or Divine Response, Temple was no longer a mere vision. As the scaffolding was removed, there gradually emerged a pagoda, five stories in all, towering majestically into heaven—a Deva King manifested in a hundred-sixty-foot figure erect on top of a rock, glaring at the host of devils and stamping his feet as if to shake the earth's axis.

  "Splendid!"

  "What superb workmanship!"

  "Phenomenal!"

  "Unprecedented!"

  "There couldn't be another pagoda like this in the world!"

  Forgetting how they had at first slighted Nossori, everyone from Tame'emon down to the gatekeeper praised and admired the pagoda. Endō and the monks of the temple all but danced in joy.

  "This is a pagoda truly worthy of Kanno Temple. How wonderful! We are blessed with a mentor unsurpassed in our time; among the great priests of all the sects, old and new, competing in their virtue like tigers, leopards, cranes, and herons, Abbot Rōen is pre-eminent—a veritable King Lion or King Peacock. Now we have the most outstanding pagoda as well. In all of Edo, even in the temple grounds at Shiba and Asakusa, there is none to rival this one. By the grace of his virtue, our noble Abbot discovered a man who was otherwise destined to end his life without ever showing his glittering talent to the world. How worthy of jūbei to have accomplished the work against all odds, as a way of repaying such noble patronage! It is a curious karma, an exquisite karma, so fascinating and heartwarming. Was it Heaven's doing, or man's? Or did the good gods of all the heavens secretly steer the course? Granted, there is the legend of Tanika, the virtuous Indian, who was skilled in the art of building; yet never have we heard of such a thrilling incident in China, or even in India during the Buddha's lifetime."

  Thus the monks expressed their heartfelt emotions and went on to make commendable pledges, not motivated by their usual self-interest:

  "At the dedication ceremony, I shall write Buddhist verses and tales."

  "I shall compose poems and songs."

  "Let us praise, extol, poetize, and record the occasion."

  In contrast to the laudations of men, the will of heaven was difficult to fathom. Through the joint efforts of Endō and Tame'emon, a tentative date had been set for a grand dedication ceremony. On that day, people from the noblest down to the most humble would be allowed to view the pagoda, the surplus funds would be distributed among the poor, and jūbei and his men would receive commendations and rewards. In addition, solemn court music was to be performed and a religious service held in honor of this rare and precious pagoda. While everyone was busy with the preparation, though, the peal of the midnight bells sounded uncommonly muffled. That was only the beginning. Gradually a strange wind began to rise. The air turned so unseasonably warm that sleeping children kicked off their bedcovers. At the same time, the rattle of shutters grew more and more violent, and through the jostling treetops in the dark, the King Demon roared out fiercely:

  "Rob these human hearts of peace! Rip out the livers of vainglorious men! Awaken them from sleep! Let waves of blood surge and heave in the fools' breasts. Drain the color from the ruddy faces of hypocrites. Swing your axes! Wield your spears! Now is the time to feed the hungry swords in your hands. Man's lifeblood is a fine food; let your swords drink it to the full. Let them feed on it to the last drop!"

  No sooner had the King Demon issued his unsparing command than a ferocious wind started up; the horde of demons with axes, spears, and hungry swords broke into a violent rampage.

  <32>

  Startled up from their dreams, the Edo residents—young and old, men and women—all were thrown into a panic. "Evil winds have come up. Latch and support the storm doors!" As distraught families floundered and bustled about in every house, the exalted King Demon bellowed:

  "Demons, be not shy of humans; cause them to fear you. They have slighted us and held us in contempt too long; they have neglected to make us the offerings ordained by the Law. Dogs that walk instead of crawl, birds that make nests of extravagance and roosts of arrogance, monkeys without tails, snakes that speak, sons of the fox devoid of sincerity, female swine with no sense of shame—how long can we tolerate their contempt? How long shall we let them glory in their effrontery? The decreed endurance of sixty-four years has expired; with my powers I have broken the iron chain of destiny that has restrained us and have demolished the Cave of Mercy and Forbearance that has confined us. Rage, you demons, rage now or never! Retaliate now, once and for all!

  "Fling the stench of human arrogance out of the Three Thousand Worlds. Force their heads to the ground. Test your merciless axes on their chests. Turn them into muck on your atrocious spears and wrathful swords. Thrust ice down their throats—make them shudder from fear and cold. Drive needles through their livers to cause mysterious pains. Destroy the offspring of their profligacy right before their eyes and drown their material idolatry in the ashen river of grief. They have stolen the homes of silkworms; now deprive them of their own homes. They mocked the ingenuity of the silkworm; now you acclaim their own cleverness. Applaud the schemes that they thought were shrewd; praise the hearts that they thought were great; extol the emotions that they thought were noble; eulogize the truth that they thought was attained; and admire the power that they thought was mighty. All humans are meat for our axes, fodder for our swords, and food for our spears; fatten them with compliments before feeding them to our weapons and mock them for having prepared such an excellent meal for us. Sport with them as long as you can—then torture them to death. Skin them alive one by one; peel off their flesh; make balls of their hearts to kick around; beat their backs with thorny orange branches; deprive them of the breath for sighs, the fluid for tears, the throb of blood for heartbeat, and the voice for screams—wrest them all from the humans! There is no pleasure surpassing brutality. Fail to behave violently and you will perish instantly. Raise a storm! Rampage ruthlessly! Fight against gods and strike the Buddhas! When we have smashed Reason to pieces, the world will be ours!"

  Stones and sand whirled up at his every command. From two o'clock in the morning to four, six, and even eight in the evening, the King Demon carried on without a pause, arousing thousands of his kinsmen. Those crossing the water stirred up waves, and those running over land kicked up sands. Heaven and earth turned yellow with dust until even the sun was obscured. Some swung axes, sneering as they felled pinetrees carefully trimmed by men of taste. Some let spears dance swift
ly to bore holes into wooden roofs. Others rocked well-built houses and bridges with their superhuman strength.

  "Not enough! You are not savage enough! Come, follow me!"

  The King Demon leaped to his feet, gnashing his fangs in rage and frustration. His kinsmen filling the sky raised sharp battle cries and furiously played havoc. The trees standing in the temple and shrine grounds and in rich men's gardens all groaned and shrieked. Soon the earth's hair stood on end in fear, willows sprawled, bamboo stalks cracked. Black clouds came streaming across the sky, and raindrops larger than acorns began to pelt down. All the more encouraged, the demons redoubled their unbridled destruction. Plucking up fences, knocking down walls, collapsing gates, peeling roofs, shattering the roof slates under their feet, blowing away a trashman's hut with one gust, twisting off an upper story in two whirls, and demolishing a temple after three blasts, they raised thunderous cheers of victory. They delighted in the comical sight of humans alarmed by their every cry; they rejoiced to hear men and women bewailing the loss of their homes. As the demons continued to commit every violent act imaginable, the faces of one million people in all eight hundred eight blocks of Edo turned ashen in terror.

  The most alarmed among them were Tame'emon and Endō. The precious pagoda, barely completed, was being assaulted from all sides. The nine-ringed spire was swaying, its jewel top writing unintelligible scripts in the sky. The pagoda bowed and arched under the onslaught of the rock-rolling wind and the shield-piercing rain. The creaking of wood... the pagoda regaining its erect posture... arching again... more screech... leaning as if about to topple...