***THE END***
AMANOJYAKU THE PRANKSTER
By Yoshiaki Takahashi
This is a story about something that happened in Imamiya Village, today's Shimo-uchi section of Seki City, thirty years ago, when the big typhoon attacked the Mino area. Many villages were damaged and Imamiya was no exception. It lay right in the path of the storm and many houses were blown down. It's sad to say, but so many people died, you couldn't count them all.
Jinkohhji Temple was one of the worst places hit. The gates housing the two fierce gods protecting the Temple were leaning, and the tiles on the hall that housed the Yakushi Buddha -- this is the Buddha who is said to cure human sicknesses – were blown off. Big pine trees were uprooted all over. But the Main Hall of the temple suffered the worst damage of all and had to be rebuilt. This story is about Amanojyaku, "the boy who supports the roof of the Main Hall with his body." Even today, if you go and visit Jinkohji temple in Shimo-uchi, you can see the jesting
form of Amanojyaku greeting you like a monkey as he holds up the roof. This is the story about how that came to be.
Long, long ago, there was a devil-boy called Amanojyaku who lived in Jinkohji Temple in the village of Imamiya in Mino. Amanojyaku means "perversity," so it was a good name for him, because he was a lover of practical jokes, the curse of all the villagers he liked to prey on. But Amanojyaku wasn't cruel, he had a kind heart, and he could be counted on to get up early and work diligently all throughout the day, so the Priest of the temple loved him like a son, and defended him.
One day, in mid-autumn, when the moon was full, Amanojyaku was resting, having finished all his work for that morning. Suddenly, he realized they didn't have any taro for offering to the gods at the moon-watching festival that night, so he got up and left for the village.
Amanojyaku knew that there was a farmer named Mokichi who had a taro field on the way there. Whenever it rained and he was caught without an umbrella, he would go and pick some leaves off the taro to keep the rain off his head, so he knew that field well. He started out for there now, on a winding mountain road that wound around the low mountain near the village. The grass and the clover were waving in the autumn breeze and dragon flies were flitting from flower to flower. When he reached Mokichi's field he looked around to make sure no one was there and started to dig the taro out of the ground.
"HEY! POTATO THIEF!" Mokichi roared, startling Amanojyaku. Laughing, he scooped up what he'd dug and ran back up the road he'd come down with the taro in his hands. When he got back to the temple, he set about peeling the potatoes and offering them to the gods. Then he left to join the others cutting the grass and clover. When the priest saw what Amanojyaku had done, he was very pleased.
"Thanks to Amanojyaku," he said, "this year, too, we can have a good Harvest Festival." The festival was the traditional day to admire the full moon and make offerings to it, and thanks to Amanojyaku this year there would be taro to offer, too. He wasn't angry the boy had taken someone else's food. After all, it was the thought that counted. And he hadn't stolen them for himself, had he. So Amanojyaku's prank went unpunished again.
Later, near the end of fall, the cold winds started to blow and the leaves on the trees began to flutter down and cover the ground. Just like always, the villagers gathered in groups of three and five with their buckets and brooms and rags to clean the temple and get it ready for the New Year. Once everyone was there, the Village Headman divided up the work and they left in groups to sweep the fallen leaves and wash off the dirt that had accumulated on the temple's gates and halls.
But Amanojyaku didn't join them. He concealed himself in the shade of a big pine tree and quietly watched his neighbours going about their work. The villagers looked awfully busy, sweeping the fallen leaves, picking the weeds on the temple grounds, and washing everything down. In no time at all, the temple grounds were sparkling and clean.
"Ah, it's beautiful."
"When everyone pitches in, it doesn't take any time at all."
"Now we can enter the New Year with a good face," everyone said, very pleased with themselves and frolicking around.
"But they haven't finished cleaning the hall for the Yakushi Buddha yet," one of them said.
"That's right. And they're not finished over by the gate protecting the temple, either," said another. One by one, they went off to help their friends finish cleaning the rest of the temple. Soon, there was no one there, it was quiet as death, and all you could hear was the sounds of mountain birds echoing down from the trees. That's when Amanojyaku crept out from behind the great pine tree and cautiously looked around to see that no one was there. When he was sure he was alone, he climbed up on a tree whose leaves hadn't fallen yet and began to shake it for all he was worth. In no time at all, the ground was covered in leaves again. Then he climbed high up the pine tree and waited for the villagers to return.
It wasn't long before he could hear their lively voices coming back from the temple gate and the hall of the Yakushi Buddha. Their hard work finished, they'd gathered back in the courtyard again.
"What the . . . ?" cried one of the people who had just cleaned the area. "I swear we just cleaned this place."
"Oh, yeah? Then what on earth happened?" said someone. "It's not clean at all."
"I thought you finished awfully fast," said another. "Now I know why. Anyone can clean fast when it's like this."
"No, I tell you we cleaned it. We cleaned it and then we went to help you."
"What do you call this, then?" someone said, pointing at all the leaves littered on the ground. Before they knew it, there was a big commotion, with the villagers gesturing and pointing at each other.
"I tell you, this is all Amanojyaku's doing," Mokichi said disgustedly. "He's always coming to my field and picking the flowers and digging up the taro when I'm not around. This is just like something he'd do. A prank like this, it's got to be Amanojyaku."
Amanojyaku had been sitting quietly at the top of the pine tree listening to the villagers argue back and forth, but when he heard this, he let out a big, echoing laugh.
"See? It's just like I thought," said Mokichi, glaring up at Amanojyaku at the top of the pine tree. "This is all his doing."
"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing, playing cruel tricks like this?" the villagers yelled, shaking the tree to get him down, but he just sat there comfortably, as if all the shaking didn't bother him at all.
"The leaves are just going to fall again the next time the wind blows anyway," he yelled back at them. "You worked so hard for nothing. The wind'll blow and then it'll be like you were
never here."
"Then we'll come back again," yelled the villagers, getting angrier and angrier. "It's got nothing to do with you. It's none of your business." But they couldn't leave the fallen leaves like that so, reluctantly, the villagers swept them up again.
Every time something happened in the village like that, there would be Amanojyaku, jumping out to laugh at and mock them, so the villagers got angrier and angrier. Something would have to be done about him.
A few days later, Amanojyaku was passing along in front of Mokichi's house when he heard the low moan of a child. He wondered why, so he snuck up and spied inside Mokichi's house.
Mokichi's only son, Takichi, was lying there, in great pain, while Mokichi and his landlady whispered among themselves.
"Why won't his fever go down?" said the landlady. "We've got to get him to a doctor."
"I've got to go out and help prepare for the village festival," said Mokichi. "Besides, I don't have any money for a doctor."
Amanojyaku thought about what to do for a while then ran back to the temple as fast as his feet would take him. What he'd remembered was that right near the temple was a mandarin tree that the priest was taking great pains to raise. One of the oranges was just starting to get tinged with colour, so he picked it and ran back to Mokichi's house. Once there, he crept in the back door like it was his own home and left the orange for the s
ick Takichi.
Now, Mokichi knew that there were no other houses in that village that were growing mandarins, so when he bumped into the priest at the village festival soon after, he thanked him profusely for the gift of the orange.
"Thank you so much for the gift of the wonderful orange," he said.
The priest was puzzled. He hadn't left Mokichi any orange. He craned his neck and puzzled over the mystery for some time before finally nodding his head and coming to a conclusion.
"Oh, that wasn't me," he said, gazing hard into Mokichi's face. "It must have been Amanojyaku. I noticed the other day that one of the oranges was missing, but just dismissed it as another of his pranks.
"We were really grateful for that orange," Mokichi said, nodding and listening to the priest. "Takichi was so sick he couldn't eat a thing. He was getting weaker and weaker and the fever wouldn't go down. That orange was just the trick. We squeezed the juice into his mouth and he got better in no time."
"Is that right? That's good. Here I thought it was just another of Amanojyaku's pranks, and all the time he was trying to help. That makes me feel good. He's a good boy."
After that, one year passed and it came to be the time that the main hall for Jinkohji temple destroyed in the typhoon was to be rebuilt. Construction was going smoothly, and at last the day for the ceremony of the completion of the framework came. It was said that the new Main Hall would be magnificent when it was completed, so all the villagers gathered there that day.
"Hey! Bring that tree here."
"A little higher!"
"Prop it up tightly against here!" the carpenters yelled in great, big voices as they hammered and sawed and rhythmically went about their work. In no time at all, the roof was raised.
"What a great, big roof."
"It's really fantastic," the villagers said in admiration.
But then one of the carpenters spoke up. "It certainly is grand, but I wonder if a big roof like this doesn't need two poles to hold it up," he said worriedly.
"Yes, this pole is sturdy, but I wonder if it's strong enough to hold up a big roof like this. It might be too thin."
"No, no, it's okay, I tell you. It's fat and strong. It'll do."
"Just the same, I'm worried," the other carpenters argued back and forth.
"Is it okay, or isn't it? Don't you know?" teased Amanojyaku, listening to them. "Which is it?" he laughed. "Can't you make up your minds?"
"Did you come to play a prank on us, too," said Tohryoh angrily, one of the carpenters. "What do you know about buildings? You're no carpenter. Keep your nose out of it. The more you poke it in, the more time it'll take."
"I live here, so I guess I know a little bit about it," said Amanojyaku. "A roof like this doesn't need two poles. Why, I could lift a roof like this myself," boasted Amanojyaku. "It's light. Light."
"Why don't you give it a try and see?" said the carpenters, getting angrier and angrier, looking at each other like they'd agreed on something and taking down one of the poles. Immediately, the roof began to sag so, frantically, the surprised Amanojyaku scrambled to help hold it up. Even as they watched, his face got redder and redder, but the carpenters packed up their tools and made as if going home.
"There, that should hold it up. We'll leave it to an expert like you, then. This is your punishment for bothering us and playing tricks all the time."
"But don't you think it's a little cruel?" one of the villagers suddenly called out, running out in front of the returning carpenters. "It's too heavy for the boy. It'll crush him." It was Mokichi, Mokichi, whom Amanojyaku had helped with the orange.
"Please put the pole back in," he pleaded. "Please."
"Mokichi! Don't worry. I can hold up a roof like this forever," yelled Amanojyaku when he heard that. "Forever," he said, looking up patiently at heaven.
And that is where you will find him today, still holding up the roof, his days as a prankster over.
The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty Page 24
