Kitsune Matsuri: The Open Gateway

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Kitsune Matsuri: The Open Gateway Page 3

by William H Johnston


  It figures she’d be right.

  I slid the glass open and stepped outside onto the tiny sliver of a balcony. Kyoto, Japan, opened up beyond the innumerable roofs of houses that stretched down the hill. I took in a deep breath.

  I can’t believe I’m here. Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan for thousands of years.

  I stared at the twinkling lights of downtown.

  This city certainly is different from what I imagined—more modern near the center, but here across the river it seems so quiet and strange. Things feel older in some ways, more mysterious. I really want to get out and see this place.

  “Eh, Tobi! Not a bad view, eh, mate?” John was standing on his own balcony.

  “Not a bad view at all!” I grinned. “Want to head out and explore?”

  “No, I think I’m good sitting here. Go ahead if you like.”

  By myself?

  I hesitated at the thought. This wasn’t exactly my neighborhood back home. Then I remembered something else. I needed to call home!

  Mr. Yoshida was in his chair reading a newspaper when I hurried downstairs. “Excuse me, Jomei-san. Is there a phone I could use to call home? I have a long distance card.”

  “Use the one in the kitchen.”

  The purple theme I noticed earlier carried on in the kitchen. There were purple plates, potholders, even a tiny purple panda sitting beside a vase of hydrangeas on the windowsill above the sink. Steam rose from a pot full of bubbling water in a rice cooker. The air was fragrant with the delicious aromas of spices I didn’t recognize.

  Aoki glanced up from where she was chopping a block of white tofu. “Ah, Tobias-san! I am sorry for the inconvenience, but dinner will be a bit longer!”

  “Oh, I’m not hungry yet. I just need to use the phone.”

  “It’s right over there in that niche, Tobias-san.”

  I nodded, sat on a stool at the counter, and dialed.

  “Hello?” My father’s voice crackled.

  “Hi, Dad. I am at the home of Aoki and Jomei Yoshida in Kyoto, Japan.”

  “Tobi! Your mother was worried sick.”

  “I know, Dad. I meant to call from the airport, but everything happened so quickly.”

  I heard my mother pick up the other end. “Tobias, do you have that jacket I sent with your father?”

  “Yes, Mom. I have it up in the room.”

  “Oh, good! I hope they are treating you well there. Is the room okay? Is the family nice?”

  “They seem very nice. The room is just fine. I have already met someone, John Tell from New Zealand. He is staying here as well to help me get settled.”

  “Your father said you’d met someone there. He didn’t say he was from New Zealand. What will he be doing?”

  “Here to teach English, same as me.”

  “Well it’s good to have someone to help you. Teaching English to the Japanese always sounded difficult when you first mentioned it.”

  “I am sure he is fine. Tobias, you know your mother and I have the greatest confidence in you.”

  “Your father’s right. And you know we love you very much.”

  “I know. Look, I should get going.”

  “We understand. Call when you can, okay?”

  “You got it, Dad. Love you both.”

  “Goodbye, honey.” The line went silent. I rested my head quietly against the counter.

  Why does this feel so hard?

  “Are you feeling well, Tobias-san?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Yoshida. I think I’ll take a short walk up the street, if that’s all right.”

  “There’s a trail called the Philosopher’s Path that goes by some lovely temples. There’s one place in particular I like. Just take a right when you see a house with a red roof. You’ll see a gate and a path leading up into the woods beyond that.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Yoshida.”

  She called out to me as I walked out the door. “Take care!”

  Outside was a bit cooler, but it felt good as I stepped out onto the street. I shoved my hands in my pockets and made my way along the rise and fall of stone and wooden walls that marked the boundaries of the houses.

  The path I found followed a canal where trees hung down over the dark flowing water and small bridges connected to other neighborhoods. There were shops here, and quite a few temples like Aoki had said, but I was content to just follow the road.

  People stared out at me from the windows and doorways as I passed by. They were probably curious to see someone like me walking alone in the residential neighborhoods of eastern Kyoto.

  Here too, like in the city, laundry was hung to dry on balconies. It was a strange enigma I’d never understood about Japanese culture.

  Eventually, I came to a large house with the red roof that Mrs. Yoshida had mentioned. A bridge spanned the canal here, and I crossed over it.

  The concrete gave way to dirt halfway up the alley, and I found myself at the edge of the forest.

  This must be the place.

  As I made my way up the path, a cool breeze sent the stalks of bamboo creaking around me. Just ahead, a torii gate straddled the path. I glanced behind. It was already getting late and the light was fading. There was a veil of mystery in the air beyond the gate, something drawing me closer down this unknown path.

  Heck, I’ve come this far! Why not see what’s up there?

  • • •

  “Tobi!”

  The sound of my own name startled me back to the present.

  What just happened?

  I tried to focus. My hands ached. Blood and dirt were on my palms. Then I remembered where I was and what I’d been doing. The girl and the fox had vanished into the forest.

  I turned and saw John fumbling his way up the path. “There you are! Dinner’s ready, and here you are napping!”

  “I was asleep?”

  “Sure looked like it from down the trail.”

  Something dry and prickly brushed against my bruised skin. I opened my fingers remembering the round smooth coins I’d picked up before were gone. The dried yellow leaves that remained were now among others at my feet.

  John gave me a strange look. “Looks like you had a tumble. You feeling okay?”

  I nodded dumbly staring back down at the leaves in my hand. He hoisted me to my feet, and the yellow leaves fell to the forest floor. “There you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You sure you’re all right, Tobi?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Well, come on then. It’s not polite to keep Jomei and Aoki waiting!”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  About halfway down, I stole a glance back the way I came. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I felt the golden eyes of the fox still watching me from the dark.

  A piercing shriek interrupted the quiet of my dreams. I fumbled, reaching for where the alarm on my nightstand should be but grasped air instead. My eyes searched an unfamiliar room until I found the blurry red numbers resting on the floor beside me. I squinted to read them and closed my eyes again.

  Since when do I get up at 5:00 A.M.?

  A hard knock echoed against the door. “Tobi! Up and at’ em! It’s the first day, my friend. Get up or we’ll miss the train.”

  I suddenly remembered exactly where I was. I found my glasses which had fallen to the floor and shot up out of bed. I grabbed my comb and rushed out the door nearly knocking John over.

  “Whoa, there, Speedy! What did you do, sleep in your clothes?” He was only half dressed and still in a robe, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

  “I’m not a morning person,” I mumbled through gritted teeth as my comb caught in tangled curls. “I probably could just skip breakfast.”

  “Are you crazy? You’ll need energy. We’ll be lucky to eat before the first break.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll see you downstairs in a bit!”

  How can people be so cheerful in the morning?

  I grabbed my small briefcase. I had some yen,
a map of Kyoto, and a little English to Japanese translation book just for emergencies.

  Mrs. Yoshida had a full spread of eggs and bacon waiting for us at the table. “Ah, Tobias-san, good morning! I thought we would have something familiar for you on the first day! I’ve already prepared your lunch so you don’t have to worry.”

  With a clumsy attempt at chopstick use, I lifted the yellow mass from the plate I grimaced biting down on the spongy texture of the egg.

  “Is something wrong, Tobias-san?”

  “No, Jomei-san. It is very good.” I brought up a second, larger mouthful and swallowed them down. Even Aoki’s cooking could not disguise a texture I have despised since childhood.

  “Hope you saved me some. I’m famished!” John sat down grabbing a piece of toast. He was dressed in a brown jacket and slacks with a nondescript brown tie. “Hey, Tobi, where’s your tie, man?”

  “I forgot it at home.”

  “Well, we’ll have to pick you up one on the way to work.”

  “Pick me up one? How? Where?”

  “Details, my friend, details. Just finish your eggs and let me worry about it.”

  John was better at using chopsticks than I so he made quick work of those eggs. I am sure his healthy appetite helped. Before I knew it, he was up and grabbing for a thermos left on the counter. “Come on, Tobi, we have to catch a train to Yamashina.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “It’s in your thermos, Tobias-san.” Aoki placed a second thermos out for me. “Now don’t be late!”

  “I won’t! Thanks for the breakfast!”

  Thin traces of mist hung in the air outside as we slipped into our shoes. The thick coat Dad had rescued from the car came to good use against the morning chill. John was dressed smartly in his coat with a long black and silver scarf.

  “That is a heck of a scarf, John.”

  He grinned. “It’s an All Blacks’ scarf from home. They’re New Zealand’s world champion rugby team!”

  “That’s like football, right?”

  “Heck no! It’s a real man’s game. American football is nothing compared to a good, solid rugby match. Come on, the station’s this way. Keep up, will you?”

  Keeping up was a challenge at best. John had a broad stride. We followed the busy street up past a huge hotel and along a large canal. At first, the street was empty save for the occasional bicyclist whizzing by from around a blind corner, but soon more people joined us. Almost all seemed to be men wearing dark suits, ties, and they all carried briefcases.

  “Is everyone here getting on the same train?”

  “Yup. I hope there’s a pair of empty seats. Otherwise, we’ll be standing the whole way.”

  I had always heard that the commute in Japan was bad. Just the thought of being crammed into a small commuter train with tons of people made me feel ill.

  “Hey, Tobi, snap out of it, man.” John motioned over to what looked like a subway entrance with escalators moving people down beneath the street. Just beside it were a few vending machines.

  “What are we going to those for? We need to find a tie!”

  “These are stores, Tobi! Vending machines in Japan can sell just about everything on God’s green earth at the touch of a button. Great in a pinch like yours!” He zeroed in on a large blue one with a caricature of a Japanese businessman standing on the top of Mount Fuji.

  “Ah, we’re in luck! That’s just the machine you need.”

  “Wait … you are saying we can buy a tie out of that thing?”

  “Just put in a thousand yen, and I’ll show you.”

  How much is a thousand yen?

  I fumbled through my bills and found the right amount. John pressed a few buttons on the display. There was a pause as the machine whirred, and something clattered to the bottom. John brought out what looked like a thin plastic parcel. A quick rip of the sealed top, and I had a fresh tie.

  The wonders of modern technology.

  “Thanks, I owe you, John.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just put it on quickly. We have to catch the train!”

  My fingers gripped the plastic rail and felt the rumbling of the escalator carry me down past advertisements and other posters in Japanese or English. We used a quick pass that Sato had included in our papers and descended to the platform. People were lined up in neat order before a glass partition that separated the platform from the track itself.

  As soon as our train pulled up, the doors slid open and everyone pushed forward. Wedged between John and at least a dozen other men, I felt my heart begin to pound as the subway doors slid closed.

  Tight space, lots of people. I took a deep breath. Just get used to it, Tobias.

  Everyone around me seemed oblivious to any discomfort as they stood silently together while the train moved. Above me were more colorful and strange advertisements in combinations of Japanese and English. Finally, the train slowed, and a disembodied voice spoke through the speakers. “Misaragi Station!”

  We exited the subway and onto a busy street. Little noodle stands, restaurants and shops lined the spaces between apartment complexes and houses wedged like thin cracker boxes between the more imposing structures.

  “This is a pretty big city.”

  “Yamashina’s a ward of Kyoto proper, but it is its own big city, Tobi. We’ll get you a subway map, and you’ll figure your way about pretty quick.”

  “Next time I might just take the bus.”

  “It would take twice as long and be just as crowded. Just remember, the earlier you get here the better chance of finding a place to sit.”

  “How do you deal with the small spaces, John?”

  He shrugged. “I just don’t think about it, I guess. I got used to that and far worse in Tokyo, believe me. Come on, the school isn’t far.”

  The street passed into a residential neighborhood nestled against the mountains. After a few minutes, we stopped in front of a large stone wall. Behind this wall was a plain two-storied building with a central clock tower. Decorative glass blocks spread like a checkerboard design along the tan-colored stucco.

  We proceeded up a walkway shaded by old cyprus trees past a gravel covered playground separated from the main building by a grassy slope. Long streaming banners of blue and green fluttered from the roof and over the gravel walkways. A sign with blue and green kanji letters greeted us at the school’s entrance.

  [5]

  “So this is Maeda School? It looks more like a high school than an elementary school.”

  “Don’t expect Japanese schools to look like the ones you grew up in, Tobi. Come on, we’re supposed to meet with Ryuto Maeda, the headmaster.”

  “This is a private school, right?”

  “Yes. Lots of schools are private in Japan, Tobi.”

  We entered a hallway with a set of stairs on the other side. Inside, it was warm, quiet and eerily empty. A glass case with glittering trophies held a place of distinction directly opposite the main doors. As I approached the display, an older man in a fine blue suit with a white carnation at the lapel, came out from what appeared to be an office.

  He bowed politely. “May I help you?”

  “Hai, Maeda-san?”

  “Hai.” His dark eyes twinkled from behind thin rectangular spectacles perched on his nose. Bushy gray eyebrows knit over his eyes like furry worms.

  “I’m John Tell and this is Tobias Blackwood,” John stated with a slight bow.

  “Ah, good. You’re early.” He opened a door into his office. “Come in, please.”

  We went inside, and he sat down at a big oak desk. Behind him was a massive tank of colorful, darting fish. A glowering, lion-faced dragon statue loomed large at the bottom of the tank. Serpent-like, it curled around a stone, long eagle-talons stretched toward the glass as if ready to swipe.

  This certainly isn’t like my old principal’s office in San Tolosa.

  Maeda rested his palms flat on the tabletop. “Well, I will be clear with you both. This is a very un
ique school. Not many places offer an emphasis in early English immersion programs as we do.”

  He pursed his lips tightly together, and for a moment his thick brows and mustache made him look like a mirror image of that dragon behind him. “I see you both prefer to go by your first names while here. That is fine, but I do have one concern. John-san is more familiar with our ways.” He glanced over at me. “However, you seem to be brand new. Have you taught before, Tobias-san?”

  “I substituted in a few classes during college, and I attended the SEL seminars.”

  “Hai, hai,” he said nodding. “Hopefully, you have learned enough to be successful. Remember that you are here by privilege. I expect you to teach as we Japanese do. You will be working with second year students. They are expected to know basic English words and phrases, but I can assure you it will not be easy to teach them.

  Should problems or questions arise, I want you to come directly to me. Now I will show you to your classrooms.”

  Mr. Meada certainly doesn’t believe in unnecessary chit chat.

  He led us upstairs to the second floor. We emerged into a hallway lined with large posters and colorful children’s drawings. There were rows of lockers and doors to other classrooms. Outside each classroom, there was a little area for shoe removal and cubbies for storage.

  Whimsical kites and dioramas hung from the ceiling with their gentle movement reflected on the neatly polished tile floor. Maeda stopped at a room at the end of the hall.

  “This will be your classroom, Tobias-san.” I started to step inside when he caught my arm. “Do not forget your slippers, Tobias-san.”

  “Oh, of course!” I knelt and removed a pair of large slippers from the top cubby just outside my door. I slipped off my shoes and placed them in an empty space before donning the slippers and finally entered the classroom. Five rows of six desks were arranged neatly on the tile floor in front of a larger desk.

  Windows on the opposite wall looked out on green mountains. There was a bank of sleek, modern computers and a reading corner with colorful books arranged neatly on shelves. In the back were more cubbies for backpacks, coats and hats.

  I moved over to the windows and looked outside. I could see the gravel playground below with a large mound for climbing and various other structures. Beyond were the neighborhoods of the town and beyond that taller skyscrapers of a city I guessed to be Yamashina.

 

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