Tomo

by Holly Thompson

  Toshio returned home in dread. That night, in a dream, he saw an even larger Maeda, now outfitted in an Imperial Army uniform and waving a sword as he chased him along the beach, leading a dozen other boys.

  The next day Maeda quite ignored him. Toshio thought the danger had passed but then noticed that when he tried to speak to any of his classmates, they would look away. When the school day was over and he made his way to the bus stop for the first leg of his journey home, the clusters of other pupils heading in the same direction made no move to include him. By the end of the week, he was feeling quite forlorn.

  At home, he had kept his distress to himself, but his aunt, seeing him withdrawn and distracted, eventually coaxed him into confiding in her. His uncle had just returned from his usual late-morning walk, as Toshio reluctantly finished his account.

  “Hiroyuki Maeda?” his aunt sputtered. “Descended from the old lord of Kaga? My, how ridiculous! That young lout may be the spoiled son of a minor landowner round here, but he’s no high and mighty one to be abullyin’ my nephew! I’ll be off to see the headmaster tomorrow!”

  As she returned to the kitchen, Toshio gave his uncle a pleading look, but he only smiled, sipped his tea, and said nothing.

  Toshio was in the midst of preparing for Monday lessons, when his uncle came into Toshio’s room and motioned for him to follow.

  “Do you like stories?” he began, as they sat down in the study.

  “Yes,” Toshio replied politely, uncertain as to where their awkward conversation was leading.

  “Well, this is an old story, a strange story, first recorded in the language of a thousand years ago. It comes from a collection of tales that almost always end with some sort of lesson, a moral of sorts, though I am not sure what it should be in this case. Perhaps that is for you to decide.”

  “Long ago, when this region was still known as the Province of Kaga, there were seven young men, scarcely older than you, whose misfortune it had been to lose their parents at an early age. Two of them were brothers, the remaining five their distant cousins. Banding together, they vowed to support one another in good times and bad. One afternoon, while wandering a lonely beach in search of clams and crabs, they came upon an abandoned boat and resolved to repair it and make it their own. Seeing them at their work, occasional passersby would gawk and jeer: ‘You’ll soon be food for the sharks!’ But the youths ignored them, determined to learn the hazardous ways of the sea and to earn their livelihood as fishermen. And so they did.

  “Now in those days, the peaceful capital to the south was still in its glory, with gentle court nobles wooing their ladies with poetry and song. But in Kaga, life was full of danger, and from more than storms and waves. So whenever the lads set out from shore, they took on board not only their nets but also their bows and arrows, along with seven short swords. Young as they were, these fishermen were also warriors.

  “One morning at the crack of dawn they launched their boat and rowed out until all sight of land was gone. Just as they had cast their nets, one of them, whose name was Norimitsu, glanced behind and saw dark clouds swirling toward them. He had barely time to warn the others, before they were caught in a fierce gale, which swiftly bore them ever farther out to sea. Terrified, they shipped their oars, clutched the gunwales, and surrendered to the wind, knowing that at any moment a wave might come crashing down and toss them overboard. But still their tiny boat went skimming and plunging ahead.

  “They had cast off at what by their measure of time was halfway through the Hour of the Rabbit. Now it was nearly noon, well into the Hour of the Horse, when at last Norimitsu dared to lift his head and look to the horizon. There in the hazy distance lay what appeared to be an island. ‘Land!’ he shouted to the others.

  “On their present course, they were doomed. Yet suddenly, as if by design, there was a shift in the wind, and soon they saw the island looming before them. Passing through the breakers, they reached the shore and joyfully tumbled out. When they had pulled their boat up onto a rock-strewn beach, they looked warily around.

  “Would there be food and water? Were they alone on this island, and, if not, would they be attacked by hostile inhabitants?

  “A stream was flowing down a nearby hill, and beyond lay what they thought must surely be fruit trees. Fear having been replaced by hunger, they began walking toward them, when they saw coming from that same direction the figure of a man. As he came closer, they could see that he was scarcely more than a youth himself. Lean and handsome, he smiled at them and exclaimed, ‘You are most welcome! We are pleased to know that you have made your way here safe and sound.’

  “As they had hardly begun to recover from their ordeal, the young fishermen could only acknowledge his greeting with silent bows, even as they marveled that he seemed to have known of their coming. As though reading their thoughts, he laughed and then asked, ‘Do you know that it is I who have brought you here?’

  “To these strange words the bewildered youths could only reply, ‘How could this be? We went fishing just this morning, when we were caught in a gale and blown into the open sea.’

  “‘But it was I,’ the stranger said softly, ‘who sent the wind.’

  “Speechless, the lads looked at him, then immediately lowered their eyes, for they now knew that this could be no ordinary man.

  “‘Do not be afraid,’ he assured them. ‘Come. You must be weary and hungry.’ Turning about, he called out in a loud voice, ‘Where are you then? Quickly! We must serve our guests!’

  “Suddenly there was the sound of trampling feet, and as though out of nowhere two long chests appeared, carried on the shoulders of men entirely dressed in blue. When the chests had been opened, the youths could see that a splendid feast had been prepared, with varieties of fish and vegetables they had never before seen or tasted, together with soft, steaming rice. Their host promptly urged them to eat, and eat they did.

  “There were ample jugs as well, filled with a sweet drink that eased whatever anxiety they still might have felt. When they had eaten their fill, they carefully replaced the remaining food in the chests and leaned back in drowsy satisfaction against a large boulder.

  “‘Now then,’ said their master, sitting down beside the fishermen, ‘I must tell you that I have brought you here for a reason.’ He paused for a moment, looking at their faces most earnestly.

  “‘Across these waters lies another island, ruled by a cruel tyrant who would take my life and make this domain his own. For many a year he has sought to carry out his will, but we have always resisted and prevailed. Tomorrow he and I will finally meet in deadly combat. I have summoned you to seek your aid.’

  “The lads stared first at him, then at each other. Finally, the oldest of them, whose name was Tadasuke, boldly responded: ‘We know nothing of his forces or the size of his fleet. Yet as fate has brought us here, we will fight, though our strength fail us and we perish.’ The others all murmured and nodded their agreement.

  “When the lord of the island heard this, he threw his head back and laughed in delight, before resuming in a tone of utmost seriousness.

  “‘You must not be alarmed when I tell you that the enemy we shall meet tomorrow will not appear in human form. Nor shall I.’

  “Again the lads exchanged glances, but then they turned again to listen.

  “‘As he approaches, I shall come down from above. Always in times past, we have driven him back before he could reach the breakers. But tomorrow you will join the fray, so we shall allow him to advance to shore. He will be pleased with that, for his strength is greater on land. Yet leave him to me and watch how the struggle goes. Should I falter, I will give you a sign with my eyes. Then you must loose your arrows, as many and as furiously as you are able.

  “‘You should begin your preparations in the morning, during the Hour of the Snake, for the battle will begin at midday. Climb to the top of the cliff and stand in waiting. From here the enemy will attempt to rise.’

  “Thus having carefull
y instructed the fishermen, he left them to their preparations and walked back into the heart of the island.”

  Here Toshio’s uncle paused and looked up from his book, seeing an unhappy expression on his nephew’s face.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked.

  “Forgive me, Uncle,” Toshio replied. “It is a fine story. Those boys are all strong and brave, but I’m not and don’t suppose I’ll ever be!”

  “Ah,” said his uncle with a smile. “You can never be so sure. Besides, you have not yet heard the end of the tale.”

  “The seven young fishermen set about building a hut from the trees that grew on the mountain, diligently sharpened their arrowheads, and inspected their bowstrings. Food had again been brought to them, and so when night had fallen, they sat round their campfire in a festive mood, bolstering each other’s courage with jibes and laughter as they recalled their eventful day.

  “Norimitsu alone was silent, sitting at some distance with his back to the fire and staring into the darkness. As, one by one, the others crawled into the hut and nodded off to sleep, Tadasuke walked over to join him.

  “‘What is it, Cousin?’ he asked. ‘It is not like you to be so quiet.’

  “‘That is because it all so very strange,’ Norimitsu replied. ‘This morning we seemed close to death, and yet now we are celebrating, even as we prepare for a battle of which then we knew nothing. We have put our trust in a stranger, one who is clearly as powerful as he is charming. But what do we know of him? What assurance do we have that he means us well or that his enemy is truly evil? And why, if he is in need of help, has he chosen seven poor and fatherless lads from across the sea—and not before terrifying them half out of their wits?’

  “As though shocked at his own outburst, Norimitsu gripped his knees and lowered his head. ‘I am sorry. You must think me quite a coward.’

  “‘Not at all,’ replied Tadasuke, his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. ‘I am sure that everyone one of us is thinking the same—only you perhaps more clearly. And if we were not having such thoughts, we should no doubt be fools. I have wondered myself whether I was wrong to have been so bold in speaking for all of us. It is easy enough to boast on a full belly.’

  “The two fell silent, and then Tadasuke spoke again.

  “‘See how dark it is. We must rest and wait for the light. I can only say that I trust there is some purpose in this and that whatever tomorrow’s outcome, we’ll have acted with honor.’

  “Norimitsu glanced at the cousin he had long regarded as a gentle elder brother and nodded. Silently they returned to the others and lay down to sleep.

  “All too soon the sun had risen, and now the Hour of the Horse was upon them. They had eaten heartily and were looking out to sea, awaiting a sign of the enemy’s approach. A strong wind arose, and even as they watched, they saw the ocean surface, suddenly strange and menacing, begin to glow with a greenish light. Surging out of the water came two immense fireballs. Behind them on the peak the grass swayed, the leaves shook, and then came a low rumbling sound, as two more flaming fireballs appeared.

  “Turning again to the sea, they saw coming toward the shore what seemed to be a huge ship, with countless gleaming oars, but as it came closer they saw to their amazement that it was a colossal centipede, twice, no, thrice as long as any beached whale they had ever seen. Its back was a gleaming green and its sides a fiery red. What they had taken for oars, they now realized, were its many legs, as thick as temple pillars.

  “Again there was a roar from the peak, and as they looked behind them, they saw descending an immense blue serpent, equal to the centipede in length and broader than the circumference of a grown man’s encircled arms. The deadly foes, the one as fearsome as the other, advanced, giant tongues licking the corners of monstrous mouths in eager anticipation of the battle. The serpent halted, his head raised, and, as the youths had been told, allowed the jubilant centipede to come ashore. Now they waited, face to face, each glaring at the other.

  “Faithful to their instructions, the fishermen climbed to the craggy ledge and readied their arrows, even as they kept their eyes steadily on the serpent. The centipede came forward, and the struggle began, each slashing and biting the other, so that both were soon drenched in blood. With its many legs, as it churned up the sand, the centipede had the advantage.

  “The battle raged all through the long afternoon, the centipede steadily pushing its way ever farther up the beach. At last, the faltering, sorely wounded serpent looked up at the fishermen and gave them the long-awaited sign. ‘Now!’ cried Tadasuke, and immediately a stream of arrows went flying toward the centipede, the shafts striking up to the notch into the entire length of its body, from head to tail. The monster shuddered but then desperately lunged again at the serpent. Again Tadasuke gave a shout, as he and the others raised their swords and charged down the slope, cutting away at the centipede’s legs until, with a loud cracking sound, it collapsed. When the serpent saw that his mortal enemy was dead, he gazed at those who had saved him and nodded wearily before slowly and painfully slithering away into the mountains.

  “The seven young warriors watched him go, then dropped their swords and let themselves fall to the sand, where they sat slumped in silence, gazing at the remains of the great centipede. And now in the twilight the young man who had first sought their aid reappeared, and though limping and bleeding, his face and body cut and bruised, he was smiling. Once again, this time in joyful triumph, he commanded that food and drink be brought for a feast more splendid than ever.

  “When the chests had again been closed and the last song had been sung, the lord of the island rose and said to the fishermen: ‘This day is one that neither I nor my subjects will ever forget, for, thanks to your strength and bravery, I may now rule in peace. And you seven lads must share in that happiness. Here there are both the fruits of the sea and the fruits of the land. Our island is fertile, and life is most pleasant and easy. Will you not settle here yourselves? You may bring your families with you.’

  “‘Ah, but we have no families,’ said Tadasuke ruefully.

  “To this the young lord laughed and said, ‘When the cold and haughty inhabitants of your native village see the gifts that I intend to bestow, you will soon have family enough!’

  “‘But how are we to return?’ asked Norimitsu.

  “‘With the same wind that I summoned before. And once you are again in Kaga, you must visit a shrine that is built there in my honor. And then in time I will once again bring you here.’

  “The young men nodded their assent, and when they had loaded their boat with the magnificent gifts they had received and were ready to row, a wind arose from the island and soon brought them back to their native land.

  “There is only a little more to tell. Most importantly, the once despised and rejected orphans were suddenly the most sought-after men in Kaga. Within two years of their return, each had acquired a wife, and three of them had become fathers.”

  Toshio’s uncle was again looking at him as he spoke these last words but then turned his eyes back to the book and read aloud:

  “And now the time came when they knew they should depart. Having once more visited the shrine and worshipped there, they launched the boats and again were borne by the wind to the island.

  “The fishermen lived there, cultivating their fields and growing ever more prosperous, with children and grandchildren. There, on the Isle of the Cat, their descendants may still be found.

  “It was surely strong karma that brought the seven fishermen to their new home. They say that the island can be seen from Omiya on the Noto Peninsula, and that, when the sky is clear, the higher western side appears in the distance as a solid blue expanse rising out of the sea. It is indeed, says the tradition, a most rich and fertile land. And so the tale has come down to us.”

  Toshio’s uncle slowly closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Uncle, have you ever been to
the Isle of the Cat?”

  “No, I haven’t,” he replied slowly, “but there is no doubt that there is indeed such a place. Still, you must remember that this is a very old story and that names have changed, along with much else.”

  He continued to look at Toshio, as though expecting him to continue.

  “So the lord of the island was really the serpent god?”

  “Yes, so it seems.”

  “Our teacher tells us that we must put aside old superstitions for the sake of building a new Japan.”

  “Quite right! But much of the evil that must now be undone is more recent than old, and we mustn’t be too hasty to judge all that is past. In our modern world, we are quite sure that men are men and that snakes are snakes. But perhaps at least some of our ancestors thought so too and yet could still enjoy the story.”

  Toshio did not immediately reply, and his uncle too fell silent until, again seeing a glum expression on his nephew’s face, he again urged him to speak.

  “Maeda seems to think,” he half-mumbled, “that I am like the centipede, an invader who has no place here.”

  “No, no,” his uncle exclaimed, “you’re not at all like the centipede!”

  “And if Japan is like the serpent god,” Toshio continued impulsively, “why have we been brought down by the Americans’ arrows and swords?”

  “Ah,” exclaimed his uncle, “you’re more than a match for me!” For an instant Toshio thought he was angry but now could see that he was chuckling.

  “I said at the beginning,” he resumed, “that I do not know what the moral of the story is. Perhaps it is less about karma than about trust and courage. But even then we are often like Norimitsu and Tadasuke in the night, knowing neither the justice nor the outcome of the battle. All I can say is that you must deal with Maeda in your own way. And I promise to see to it that your loving aunt keeps her peace.”

  As Toshio entered the classroom the next day, he glanced at Maeda, whose seat was against the right wall at the back. He had turned around and was chatting with his friends before the arrival of the teacher but paused when he saw Toshio.