PART ONE: RAGGED ENKU-SAN
This is a story about Enku, a Buddhist monk who lived three hundred years ago. One day in the summer, he was walking from Seki to Gujo, the scorching sun beating on his back as he walked, chanting prayers and trying to keep his feet in the worn straw sandals on his feet. They were so torn and tattered it was like he was walking barefoot, his skin reddening under the sun where it peeked through his tattered robes. His face was so sooty and weather-worn, the sun had little chance of breaking through.
Nicks and cuts scarred his fat arms and fingers -- some deep, others light -- marks from the swords and knives made in Seki. He carried a single handkerchief, split along the back, neatly folded and tied. Carefully wrapped inside was a pack of oil paper he had bought that day in Seki.
At Mino, he stopped to rest in the shade of some trees, putting down his load and drinking some water from the length of bamboo he carried as a thermos. Nearby, he noticed a six- or seven-year-old boy doing the same thing.
"Boy!" Enku called out. "What are you doing here? Where did you come from?"
"Seki," the boy answered, pointing down the road he had just come.
"Is that right?" said Enku, looking around for an adult. “Me, too. Who brought you?" There was no one else around.
"A priest."
"What? All this time you were following me? And I didn't notice? What for? Where are you going?"
"Oh, Mr. Priest," said the boy, looking like he was about to cry. "It's my mother . . . "
"Yes, I noticed you don't seem to have one. What happened to her?"
"I don't know," said the boy, breaking into tears. "I'm lost. And I don't know which road to take. Please help me, kind priest."
Enku listened, feeling sorry for the boy. He wasn't sure where he lived, but it sounded like his mother might live somewhere near Gujo.
"That's a real problem, isn't it?" said Enku. "Well, one thing's clear. We can't send you back to Seki by yourself, can we? By the way, what's your name? How old are you?"
"Eight. And my name's Tatsukichi. But everyone calls me Tatsu."
"Tatsukichi, is it? That's a good name. Mine's Enku." And he took little Tatsukichi by the hand and started walking to his friend's place in Gujo to see what they could do about the boy.
The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty Page 30
