The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty

by Darvin Babiuk

  ***THE END***

  O-KON THE FOX

  By Tadao Morishita

  Once upon a time, there was a girl named Sawa who lived in a village high up in the mountains together with her grandma in a small house behind the main hall of a famous temple in Japan.

  "Sawa's ten now and she works hard and listens to what we tell her. She's a good girl," the head priest would praise her to the villagers every time her name came up.

  Sawa's grandmother was very religious and whenever she had free time she would go to the temple to pray. And every time that happened, she was sure to take Sawa with her. Today was no different. Sawa's grandmother had a little free time so she went to the temple and Sawa tagged along with her.

  "Oh, Sawa. It's a good thing you came. I want you to take a letter to the village chief," the head priest ordered, using Sawa as his private messenger just like he always did.

  "Yes, Sir," Sawa said, with such a serious face that the priest and her grandmother burst out laughing in spite of themselves. "How many times should I bow to him?"

  "As many times as you like," Sawa's grandmother said, looking at her affectionately, before turning serious. "This is a very important letter from the temple. A very important one. Hold on to it tightly. Don't make me worry by being careless like you always are."

  "Why, oh why?" teased the priest, turning gentle eyes on Sawa. "Why did you have to be a girl? You've got a good head on your shoulders. If only you were a boy. Then I could make you my apprentice."

  But it was too late. Even before he had finished speaking, Sawa was out the temple's main gate and running down the road. She wanted to deliver the letter quickly so she could go look in

  on her secret place near the river below the temple's bell-tower. Two or three years ago she had found some beautiful azaleas growing there and she was sure they were still there. The river had cut such a big, rocky cliff into the ground that hardly anyone ever went down that way.

  "I wonder if they're still there?" Sawa said to herself. "I'd really like one to brighten up the shiny, black statue of Buddha in the Main Temple."

  Slowly, a lump in her throat, she inched her way along the uneven rocks, making sure her hands and feet didn't slip on the loose gravel. She shut her eyes tightly to keep from seeing the mighty river crashing onto the rocks below, but the sound reminded her what would happen if she fell. Finally, she'd inched her way down to the azaleas. Drat! They were just out of reach and she couldn't go any farther. She thought about it for a bit, then, holding on to a rock that was sticking out from the cliff with her left hand, she leaned forward as far as she could. The fingers on her right hand could just brush the stems. Just a bit more, she thought, and I'll have them. She gave one last stretch and just as she reached out to pick the stem, the rock she was holding on to broke away from the cliff wall.

  "Ow!" she cried out, tumbling down head over heels to the cliff's edge. "Help me!"

  Crying, she hung there, clinging to the last rock as tight as she could, but the others were covered with moss and she couldn't get a good enough grip to pull herself up.

  Just then she felt a tug on her sleeve. She looked down and saw a big clump of hairy tree bark growing thickly by one of the rocks sticking out from the cliff's edge. She had just enough time to see a gold fox tugging on the opening of her sleeve and dragging her to safety before she passed out.

  At the same time up on top of the cliff, the head priest and some of the villagers had been inspecting the base of the bell tower. The rocks were starting to crumble and they were afraid it wouldn't be long before it fell into the river below. They heard a girl cry out for help and came running down the loose rocks to see what the matter was. When they got her back up, they saw a single azalea stem clutched firmly in her right hand, roots and all. Sawa, of course, was severely scolded. If she hadn't been lucky, she could even have died. Since the flower still had its roots, it was planted in the temple garden, then her grandmother took her firmly by the hand and led her to each of the villager's houses in turn to thank them for saving her. Finally, when they were finished, she took Sawa back to the temple.

  "The stupid girl said she wanted to make an offering of the azalea to the Buddha in the main hall," Sawa's grandmother apologized to the priest, just as she had to each of the villagers, wiping cold sweat off her brow as she thought about what could have happened. "But that's not likely now after such a stupid, careless act."

  But the head priest saw it differently. "What an innocent, kind-hearted child," he said, and Sawa's grandmother bowed to him deeply.

  "I promise she'll never make trouble by doing such a stupid thing again," she said.

  "We both know that's not possible," the head priest said, shaking his head. "Sawa's too clever by half. She won't listen. There'll always be a secret path leading somewhere that she can't resist."

  The head priest was right. Sawa was barely out of sight of the temple when she started daydreaming again. "There was a gold fox there that saved me," she remembered. "If it hadn't been for it, I might not be alive today. Tomorrow, I want to do something for it. I'm going to go back and give it a name. O-kon, maybe. That's a good name for a fox."

  It was like Sawa was in the middle of an enjoyable dream. No matter how many times her grandmother scolded her, soon she'd be imagining new adventures and forget all about the hard lessons she'd learned from her mistakes. Once she got an idea in her head, it stayed there.

  From the Main Hall of the temple there was another road you could walk down to the river easily on and Sawa began to bring fried tofu down it to just about the place where she'd fallen by the fox's den. Foxes were the god's messengers and everyone knew they liked fried tofu the best of all foods. But this time, instead of O-kon, there was another gold, male fox and Sawa hurried to tell the priest and her grandmother about it, naming it "Konpei" and dreaming up a perfect little fairy tale about the two foxes marrying and living happily ever after.

  "But there's something else that worries me," she said, lowering her voice a little to put on a serious face. "Sometimes when I go there I can hear the ground from the cliff falling into the river. I'm sure it must be falling into O-kon's den, too."

  "It's a good thing you told me that," the head priest said, his hair turning gray at even the thought of Sawa's words. "I don't like the sound of that at all," he said, and dashed out to the bell tower, leaving Sawa and her grandmother to rush after him on the rocky road.

  "Hmm," said the priest worriedly, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes opened wide in surprise. "I had no idea the damage was already as bad as this." Sawa's mother frowned, too, but it had nothing to do with the damage to the cliff holding up the bell tower. O-kon was there peeking at them and she knew there was something different about the fox this time.

  But the priest was already hurrying back to the temple. He sat down at his desk and wrote something quickly on a scroll of paper. He made five or six copies of the same letter then turned to Sawa.

  "I want you to deliver these to the village chief and all the other houses along the way," he told her. "And don't dawdle this time, Sawa. You're a smart girl. I'm depending on you."

  Sawa nodded and ran from the temple, the letters held firmly in her hand. She shuddered thinking about how the priest had looked when he gave her the letters. Something important was up, she knew, but she didn't know what.

  That night, the temple was full of people rushing in and out of the Main Hall, each of them worriedly carrying the priest's letters in their hands. Sawa and her grandmother barely had time

  to think they were so busy bringing green tea for all of them, but there was one thing her grandmother couldn't keep out of all the thoughts that crowded into her head. "O-kon is going to have a litter," she said to herself. "But I don't know where they think they're going to all live. There's no way there's room for all of them on the cliff."

  "Human sacrifice," Sawa heard the head priest's voice boom out as she brought in another tray of green tea fo
r the guests. "Forget it. It's out of the question. The bell tower had been threatened before and we've always worked together to protect it. We'll save it this time, too, but according to the teachings of the Buddha. Nothing is as precious as human life. The Buddha taught us that. We can't waste it."

  Sawa couldn't understand what was going on, but she thought it had to be even more important than she'd thought before. This sounded serious.

  "I'm an old man," the village chief was saying. "Old enough to have seen floods, and earthquakes and fires. The years and months have flown together and during that time I can't remember how many times the bell tower has been smashed up, burnt down, or washed away. Whenever that happened, we've always had a human sacrifice to protect the temple. Always. It's tradition."

  "Don't even talk about human sacrifice!" the head priest snapped. "It's wrong."

  "Well, how about an animal this time, then?" the chief suggested.

  "An animal," the priest mumbled to himself, thinking it over. "That might be possible . . . "

  In horror, Sawa began to think of O-kon and her grandmother startled her by suddenly appearing to whisper at her elbow.

  "The villagers think there's some kind of evil spell on them so they want to bury someone alive to protect the temple," she said. "But the head priest won't allow it. So now they're talking

  about substituting an animal."

  "An animal!" said Sawa, shaking all over. "That's awful.They say animal but what they mean is O-kon."

  No sooner had the name left her lips than her worst fears were confirmed.

  "How about O-kon?" several of the villagers proposed. "Who wants to sacrifice O-kon? Let's take a vote." Immediately, opinions went flying around the room but before they could decide

  Sawa couldn't stand it anymore and burst into tears.

  "O-kon instead of a human sacrifice?" she wailed. "It's not fair. You do that and I'll run away I tell you. I'll run away and never come back. O-kon's going to have babies, soon. It's not fair. It's too much."

  Seeing Sawa like that the head priest tried to put a stop to the talk, but the village chief and parishioners turned a deaf ear to his words.

  "I can't understand what all this talk of protecting foxes and raccoons," he told the priest. "We should be driving them out, not saving them. They are terrible beasts who only play evil tricks on human beings."

  Sawa couldn't stay there for another second. Dizzily, she ran out of the temple and headed for O-kon's den on the cliff edge.

  "O-kon," she said, wandering around absently. "How can I help you. What can I do for you?" She was so lost in thought she barely noticed the cold night wind from the river slicing into her heart. She couldn't miss what happened next, though. As if in answer to her questions, a flash of light blazed up in front of her leaving a beautiful woman with long golden hair standing there.

  "Sawa," she said in a gentle voice. "There's no need to worry. This temple is for the happiness of you and your grandmother and the others. Even if it takes a human sacrifice. I'd be happy to leave here if I could do that."

  "Who are you?" stammered Sawa. "Could you be . . . "

  "Why, who else could I be?" the beautiful woman answered. "I'm O-kon the fox."

  "O-kon? Oh, don't die O-kon. You can't die. You just can't."

  But the beautiful woman just shook her head and went on gazing at Sawa while she spoke to her quietly. "There's something I want you to do for me on the day of the celebration for the new bell tower," she said. "Something I can't do without your help. Don't cry, Sawa. The temple will be in the villager's hearts forever after this. And you and me, Sawa. We're going to be together forever, too." Then she continued, telling Sawa in detail what she wanted her to do, cutting like a knife through Sawa's heart. Then she vanished, saying goodbye with a smile, leaving behind only the cold river wind and sound from the waves.

  Worried that Sawa was nowhere to be found, her grandma and the head priest came searching for her, finding her near the crumbling cliff wall. Of course, neither the beautiful woman or O-kon was anywhere to be found, but the crumbling earth had almost completely filled up the fox's den.

  That night, Sawa caught a bad fever and her grandmother made her go straight to bed. But the fever got worse. Day after day Sayo lay in bed like a dead person. By the time she was well enough to get up, construction had already started on the new bell tower. High-spirited yells and the sounds of hammers broke the stillness and, just like always, Sawa and her mother brought steaming cups of green tea for the carpenters and stone masons. The priest entrusted her with small jobs around the temple, too, and Sawa's heart warmed because it made her think she'd be together with O-kon like she promised.

  Soon, the splendid new bell tower was finished and the day of its inauguration dawned bright and clear. The villagers gathered at the chief's house and headed out for the temple.

  There were so many people they spilled right out of the temple grounds, through the main gate and onto the road leading to the temple. The head priest came out of the temple in his ceremonial gown to offer up a prayer, then walked over to the bell tower taking the crowd's eyes with him. There, he turned toward the river and uttered a few polite words.

  "The first sound you hear," announced someone in a clear, loud voice behind them, "will be the sound of O-kon's ill feeling toward you for your decision. The second will make you forget that and remember her innocence. The third will be O-kon's wish for our village to be happy, a sound of extraordinary pure quality and beauty." Surprised, the crowd turned to look back to where the voice was coming from. There, standing beside the azalea growing in front of the main temple, was Sawa. As if on cue, the head priest grabbed hold of log used to strike the bell and flung it up as hard as he could. It hung in the air for a minute, then came crashing down towards the bell.

  "Gong!" everyone was expecting, but this sound was different. "Ding!" it said. The pole swung up again but before any sound rang out a flash of gold came flying up from the river's edge and aimed itself at the bell tower. A second "Ding!" rang out and the flash turned itself into a streak of light heading right for the bell. Everyone was just barely able to make out that the flash was O-kon the fox. No one knew why but the crowd clasped their hands and began to chant "Namuamidabutsu" as one. And right in the middle of that prayer, the head priest quieted his heart and sent the log flying toward the bell for its third gong with all his might.

  "GOOOONNNNNNGGGGGGGG!" it rang out this time, a wonderful, big sound that echoed out together with the sound of the prayer until it was reverberating through every corner of the mountain village.

  "NAMUAMIDABUTSU!" the voices grew louder, joining in with the bell's echo to purify the hearts and minds of the people forever.

  "Thank you, O-kon," Sawa said, the thought coming straight from her heart. Staring up into the Eastern sky, her eyes were full of tears. Shedding tears, she screwed up her mouth and did her best not to cry. Beside her, her grandmother stood nodding, her hands clasped together.

  After that, each time the villagers and priest gathered, he was sure to thank O-kon for giving up his precious life for their happiness and to remind them never to forget it. Then, he was sure to continue by saying a few nice things about Sawa, too. And more and more people came to pray at the temple from then on.