THE RITES FOR O'IWA SAN
Iémo[u]n fared as badly at the hands of the Buddha as at those of the
Kami. Shu[u]den Osho[u], as guardian of the sacred image of the
Gyo[u]ran Kwannon, was a very great man indeed. After some delay the
deputation from Samoncho[u] was ushered into his presence, Iémon made
profound obeisance and explained the cause of their presence. The
visitations of O'Iwa to the district were causing the greatest public
commotion. Not as a matter of private interest, but of public utility
his interference was sought. If Iémon thought to abstract a copper
"cash" from the priestly treasury he made a gross mistake. Besides, the
individual who disturbs the public peace suffers severely from official
mediation, no matter what form this takes. Shu[u]den inquired minutely
as to the visit of the Daiho[u]-in, of which he seemed to have heard.
What information Iémon might have withheld, or minimised, or given a
different complexion, was cheerfully volunteered by others, who also
corrected and amplified any undue curtailing or ambiguity of their
spokesman. Shu[u]den listened to Iémon with a gravity and an expression
hovering between calculation and jeering comment. He turned from him to
the committee, giving great attention to those scholiasts on the text of
the orator. He gravely wagged his head in agreement with the rival
prelate, whose acumen he highly extolled. Memorial services were to be
provided for a year. It was, after all, merely a form of restitution to
the wronged lady. But also the wandering spirit of O'Iwa was to be
suitably confined. Here lay the difficulty. Recitation of the sutra for
seven continuous days; proper inhumation of the substitute beyond
possibility of disturbance, would surely lay a spell on the enraged
lady, and put an end to the curse of one dying an unworshipped spirit.
For the burial a bamboo was to be provided--of length one _shaku_ eight
_bu_ (one foot nine inches) between the joints.
With this notice Iémon and his companions withdrew. He was resigned to
the payment of the fifty _ryo[u]_ necessary for the memorial services
extending over the year. The inclusion in the bamboo was another affair.
The finding of such was about as easy as the fishing for black pearls.
He soon found that securing the substitute and securing the body of
O'Iwa San for proper inhumation were kindred problems. After looking
over all the bamboo which had drifted to Edo and was in the hands of the
world secular--and most of it at surprisingly cheap rates--the committee
was driven back on the religious world. They soon found that the article
in question was kept in stock only at the Gyo[u]ran Kwannondo[u].
Resorting to the priestly offices, Iémon felt convinced that the grave
salutation of the incumbent official--they directed him to the
treasury--concealed a derisive grin at his expense. He was sure of it
when he learned that this rare object could be had--for another fifty
_ryo[u]_. The temple gave no credit; but Suzuki, the usurer who was one
of the party, after some demur agreed to hand over the amount, which he
had just received from Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, the service bounty of the
daughter O'Tsuru. With some reluctance the long nosed, long faced, long
limbed Kamimura went security for the repayment on their return to the
ward. With cheerful recklessness Iémon pledged the last chance of any
income from the pension and resources of Tamiya for the next three
years; so heavily was he in debt. Shu[u]den on his part lost no time.
With at least one member of the committee in attendance, to see that he
played fair, for seven days vigorously was the sutra intoned by the
loudest and most brazen of his subordinates, backed by the whole body of
priests. Day and night a priest would slip to the side altar, to invoke
the pity of the Buddha on the wandering spirit of the deceased lady in
few pithy but hasty words, and to spend the rest of his vigil in a
decent slumberous immobility.
The seven days accomplished, the procession formed. Six men in new
uniforms--provided by Iémon--made pretence of great difficulty in
carrying the long box (_nagamochi_). Four men carried the _sambo_, or
sacred tray of white wood, on which rested the section of bamboo wrapped
by the hands of Shu[u]den himself in the sacred roll of the sutra of
Kwannon. Officialdom of the ward was present. The citizens turned out
_en masse_. For long Yotsuya had not witnessed such a scene. Within its
precincts the _yashiki_ of the great nobles were conspicuously absent;
their long processions of spearman, _chu[u]gen_, _samurai_ and officials
were only to be witnessed at times on the highway which leaves Shinjuku
for the Ko[u]shu[u]kaido[u] and the alternate and then little used
Ashigarato[u]ge road. Arrived at Samoncho[u] the ground selected was
inspected by Shu[u]den. The bishop's eyebrows puckered in questioning
mien. "Here there are too many people. Is there no other place?" They
led him to another site. The wrinkle deepened to a frown--"Here there
are too many children. Their frolics and necessities are unseemly. These
would outrage the tender spirit. Is there no other place?" The committee
was nonplussed. Iémon was in terrible fear lest all his effort and
expenditure would go for naught but to swell Shu[u]den's cash roll. A
thought came into his mind. "There is no other open land, but the garden
of Tamiya is wide and secluded. The wall prevents public access." People
looked at him aghast. He was either mad with courage, or obstinate in
disbelief in the power of O'Iwa San so plainly manifested. Shu[u]den
paid no attention to that surprised whispering. "Deign to show the way
thither." Thus the procession took its course back to Teramachi and
through the gate of Tamiya. A spot was selected, just before the garden
gate. It was open to the salutation and vows of passers-by, yet could be
shut off from direct access toward house and public. At Shu[u]den's
order a hole was dug, just four _shaku_ (feet) in depth. The Osho[u]
began the recitation of the sutra. The priests stood by in vigilant
attention. As the last word reverberated on the bishop's lips they
seized the sutra wrapped bamboo, slipped it in the long box--bum! the
lock snapped. The congregation was tremendously impressed. For a decent
time Shu[u]den remained in prayer and meditation. "The charm is
complete. O'Iwa no longer wanders, to her own penance and the disaster
of men. Henceforth he who says she does so lies. Hearken to the words of
Shu[u]den. Admit none such to your company. Let not children make this
place a playground. Shu[u]den has given warning. Pollution surely
follows. Their habits are unseemly, an insult to the dead. Even as to
parents, those with infants on their backs are specifically to be
excluded." He tied a paper covered with Sanscrit characters to a bamboo
stick. This was placed on a white wood stake. On the stake he wrote
kindred words, converting it into the counterfeit of a _sotoba_. Neither
he nor any present knew what the words meant, or had care as to their
ignorance of this essential of religion. Then he and his train gathered
up their gowns and galloped out the gate, after practice and receipt of
grave courtesy, so much did temple differ from shrine in its contact
with secular life. The assembled multitude departed; much edified by the
day's proceedings, and with low comment to each other on the
dilapidation of Tamiya, its fall from the one time spruce and
flourishing state. "Introduce a spendthrift in the door, and the wealth
leaks from every crevice. The spirit of Tamiya Matazaémon must grieve at
this sight. But why did he bring in as _muko_ a stranger?"
Iémon could flatter himself on the efficacy of the divine
interposition. The public mind was quieted. Nothing more was heard of
O'Iwa San. Only the daily summons, on one pretext or another, to the
ward office troubled him. The _yakunin_ also made a practice of taking
in Tamiya en route to performance of their various missions. This he
knew was a practice as to men under observation. He went over his career
as known to Yotsuya. There was nothing in it to call for question.
Official censure does not rest its case on a ghost story. The famous
investigation of Echizen no Kami (O[u]oka) into the Yaeume case of
Yamada was matter of later days. Moreover, all his troubles were
lightened by the state of O'Hana, the devoted object of unwavering
affection. Ever since the Daiho[u]-in had mesmerized her, impressed his
will on her, the daily improvement could be marked. Now again she was
her normal self; sadly thin and worn in spirit, a woman tired out, but
yet the figure of O'Hana and in her right mind. To him she was the
beautiful tradition of the past and just as beautiful as ever in
actuality. Two weeks had passed since Shu[u]den's experiment. One night,
as the hour of the pig (9 P.M.) was striking, there came a knocking at
the door. O'Hana rose from her sewing. "Danna, Kamimura San would say a
word." Iémon made a gesture of annoyance. The long man had shadowed him,
ever since entering on the engagement of bail. He went to the door and
looked at his caller with amazement. Kamimura, his hair in confusion,
was stark naked except for his wife's under cloth--and she was almost a
dwarf. He stretched out a hand to Iémon, half in threat, half in
begging. "Iémon Uji, a word: condescend to grant this Goémon ten
_ryo[u]_ in silver, not in words. Suzuki the usurer has come on Goémon
as bail of Iémon, in the matter of the exorcism. To-day he stripped the
house of everything. Wife and children, hungry and almost naked, lie on
bare boards. When Goémon begged mercy, that he go to Tamiya, the
wretched fellow jeered. 'Tamiya? Tamiya has but _hibachi_ and three
mats; the clothes worn by himself and wife. The house and land of Tamiya
is but a reversion. Suzuki gets nothing at Tamiya but a lawsuit which
would not pay the office fees. Kamimura is rich; his house is well
supplied. One petition; and not only expenses, but the debt finds
payment. Hence Suzuki troubles not Tamiya.' With this off he went
deriding me. Deign the loan, Iémon San. Condescend at least the shelter
of clothes and food."
To the wretched fellow Iémon could make no reply. Ten _ryo[u]_!
Kamimura might as well have asked for ten thousand _ryo[u]_. In house
and land Iémon was secure. These belonged to the heirship of Tamiya as
long as the House maintained its status. The pension was long mortgaged.
The farms had disappeared. The trouble of Goémon pained him. He could
only refuse; palliating the refusal with vague promises as to the near
future. He would effect a loan. The debt of Suzuki repaid, all his goods
would be restored to Kamimura San. Goémon took this talk at its real
value. Shaking his fist he berated Iémon with violent words. "Ah! Shame
is brought to the House of Kamimura, wretchedness to his family--and by
this vile stranger. It is Iémon with his heartless wicked treatment of
O'Iwa San, who has wrought distress and ruin to the ward. For Goémon
there is neither food nor clothing? Wait! Time shall bring his vengeance
on Iémon and his House." Iémon would have detained him; sought in some
way to mollify him, at least get a hint as to how he purposed injury.
Goémon shook him off as one would a reptile. With a wild laugh he went
out naked as he was into the darkness.
He had no definite purpose in mind. However, as he passed the garden
gate of Tamiya his eye caught the factitious _sotoba_ standing white in
the fitful moonlight. He stood stock still; then clapped his hands in
mad joy and decision. Hastening to his home he sought out an old
battered mattock and a rusty spade. Soon he was back at the garden gate.
A blow and the bar fell. Goémon passed within. "She lies but four
_shaku_ deep. The task is quickly performed. None pass here at this
hour." The dirt flew under his nervous arms. Soon he had the box out on
the ground beside him. A peal of thunder; he must hasten, or stand a
ducking from the coming storm. He laughed. What had a naked man to fear
from getting wet? The clothes he wore would not spoil. Why did not man
dress in a towel, as after the bath; its use, to wipe the moisture from
the body. Now his eyes were fixed in curiosity on the bamboo staff
before him. The first few drops of the rainstorm fell on his bare
shoulders, but he disregarded them. "Naruhodo! How heavy it is! O'Iwa in
life hardly weighed more. Lady of Tamiya--show pity on this Goémon.
Iémon and O'Hana--those wicked voluptuaries--prosper and flourish, while
Goémon is brought to beggary and starvation. Deign to visit the wrath of
O'Iwa San on these vile wretches. Seize and kill them. Goémon sets O'Iwa
free." He seized the mattock. Raising it overhead he brought the edge
sharply down on the bamboo stake. At the moment there was a violent peal
of thunder rolling off into a crash and rattle. The landscape was lit up
by the vivid lightning. People uneasily turned over on their beds.
Shortly after dawn Iémon woke with a start. Don-don-don, don-don-don.
There was a tremendous rapping at his door. O'Hana could hear but a
whispered consultation going on without the _amado_. Iémon returned to
the room. His face was white; his step tottered. Hastily he donned an
outer robe. To her question he made scant reply, so agitated was he. His
one idea was to keep from her what he had just heard. In the garden he
found his wardsmen assembled. All were dumbfounded and aghast. They
looked at each other and then at the broken bamboo tube. Close by lay
the body of the man who had done the deed. Brains and blood had oozed
from the hole in the skull in which yet stuck the pointed end of the
mattock sunk deep within. Evidently the instrument had rebounded from
the resilient surface of the bamboo. A by-stander pointed to the tiny
fracture near the hard knot of the staff. It was a small thing, but
enough to destroy all the past labours. Iémon went up to look at the
body. "Why! 'Tis Goémon." To their questioning he told how Kamimura had
called on the previous night, his rage at the inability of Iémon to aid
him in distress. With hanging heads, eyes on the ground, and wagging
tongues, all departed to their homes. Later the body of Goémon was borne
to his house by neighbours. Iémon picked up the bamboo staff. Carrying
it within he placed it in a closet. It was as costly an object as the
house had ever held. He was in despair.
It was on that very day, at the seventh hour (3 P.M.), that O'Hana
heard a call at the door. "A request to make! A request to make!" She
recoiled from the sight presented. A beggar stood at the entrance of
Tamiya. A dirty mat wrapped around his body, feet and arms emerging from
bandages, making him like to some hideous insect with its carapace, his
face wrapped in a towel, the effects of leprosy were hideously
patent.--"What do you here? There is naught to be had. Pray depart at
once." The answer was in tones the very harshness of which seemed to
cause pain to the utterer--"The request is to Iémon Dono. Condescend to
notify him." With fearful glance O'Hana shrank within, Iémon noted her
nervous quivering. Promptly he was on his feet--"A beggar has frightened
Hana? Such are to be severely dealt with." He went to the entrance. "A
beggar, and such a fellow? How comes it entrance has been had to the
ward? There is nothing for you here. If you would escape the dogs and
bastinado, get you hence at once." The man did not stir from the spot on
which he stood. Slowly he opened the mat held round his body
(_komokaburi_), one of the coarse kind used to wrap round _saké_
barrels. He was clothed in rags glued together by the foul discharges of
his sores. He removed the towel from his face. The ghastly white and red
blotches, the livid scars of the leper, the head with patches of scurfy
hair ready to fall at a touch, startled even Iémon the priest. He would
not have touched this man, expelled him by force, for all the past
wealth of Tamiya. The intruder noted the effect produced.
"To such has the wrath of O'Iwa San brought this Cho[u]bei. Does not
Iémon, the one-time neighbour Kazuma, recognize Cho[u]bei? And yet all
comes through Iémon. Child, wife, means of life, all these have failed
Cho[u]bei. In the jail robbed of everything, degenerate in mind and
body, Cho[u]bei has found refuge at nights in the booths of street
vendors; on cold wet nights, even in the mouths of the filthy drains.
Fortunate is he when fine weather sends him to rest on the river banks.
To seek rest; not to find it. O'Iwa stands beside him. When eyelids
drowse Cho[u]bei is aroused, to find her face close glaring into his.
Beg and implore, yet pardon there is none. 'Cho[u]bei has a debt to pay
to Iwa. In life Cho[u]bei must repay by suffering; yet not what Iwa
suffered. Think not to rest.' Some support was found in a daughter, sold
in times past to the Yamadaya of Yoshiwara. There the child grew up to
become the great profit of the house. The influence of the Kashiku was
all powerful to secure entrance. For a night Cho[u]bei was to find food
and a bed. But that night came Kibei San. He killed the Kashiku--crushed
her out, as one would crush an insect. This Cho[u]bei nearly died; but
Kibei left him to the mercy of O'Iwa. Her mercy!" He would have thrown
out his arms in weary gesture of despair. The pain and effort were too
great. He moaned. "Last night Cho[u]bei sought relief. Of late years the
river has been spanned, for passers-by and solace of the human refuse.
Standing on Ryo[u]gokubashi the dark waters of the river called to
Cho[u]bei as they swept strongly by to the sea. A moment, and all would
be ended. About to leap hands were laid on Cho[u]bei's shoulders. He was
dragged back. Turning--lo! 'twas O'Iwa San. Another creature, still
fouler than she, with sloping eyelid, bald head, and savage look, stood
by. Said O'Iwa San--'And Cho[u]bei would end all--with luxury before his
eyes! Cho[u]bei dies not but with the consent of Iwa. Get you to
Yotsuya; to Iémon and Hana, living in luxury and Tamiya. Aid will not be
refused you.' And so she brought me here. Deign to hear the prayer of
Cho[u]bei. Allow him to die in Yotsuya, upon the _tatami_; not on the
bare earth, to be thrown on the moor for dogs to gnaw. Grant him burial
in temple ground."
He changed his theme; the feeble quivering hands clasped his belly.
"Ah! This pinching hunger. Double Cho[u]bei's suffering; of mind and
body. Apply for alms or food, and the leper is repulsed. See! Two
fingers remain on this hand. Count of the rest fills out the tale for
but one member. O'Hana San, condescend a rice ball for this Cho[u]bei.
You, at least, know not the pinch of hunger.... Ah! She still possesses
some of that beauty and charm for which Iémon has brought ruin upon
all." Before the horrible lascivious leer of this object O'Hana fled.
Left alone Iémon spoke. He had been thinking--"Cho[u]bei has spoken
well. From Iémon he is entitled to relief. Cho[u]bei shall die on his
mat. But in such shape nothing can be done. Get you hence. Buy clothing
fit to appear before men's eyes. In the bath wash that pus-laden body.
Then come to Iémon. Relief shall be granted Cho[u]bei." Wrapping a
_ryo[u]_ in paper he passed it to the leper. It was the last coin he
possessed. O'Hana now returned with five or six rice balls savoured with
salt. Fascinated, the two watched the horrible diseased stumps awkwardly
shoving the food into the toothless mouth, cramming it in, and breaking
it up so as not to lose the savour of a grain. "Until to-morrow," said
Cho[u]bei. He picked up his stick. In silence the man and woman watched
him. "Leaning on his bamboo staff he crawled away like some insect."
O'Hana looked inquiringly at Iémon. He turned away his head.
Through the dusk Cho[u]bei crawled across the Ryo[u]gokubashi. The
words of the woman O'Také had come true. He had a sense of being
followed. He turned at the sound of footsteps. At sight of a _samurai_
in deep hat, mechanically he stretched out hands and self in the
roadway, begging an alms. The man drew apart, passing him in disgust and
haste. Cho[u]bei went on. He had no aim. It was with surprise that he
found himself, as often of late, on the embankment of the North
Warigesui. He looked down on the foul place of O'Iwa's disappearance. "A
foul ending; but after all an end. One night! One night's sleep! Deign,
lady of Tamiya, to grant pardon and respite to Cho[u]bei. Just one hour
of sleep." Carefully he adjusted his mat. Painfully he stretched himself
out on it. "To die on the mat. Such was the word of Iémon." He felt his
rags. "It was well he agreed. Cho[u]bei had other means to force
compliance. Well, 'tis for later use." A continued rustling aroused him.
Some one was cautiously picking a way through the dry grass of the past
winter, was creeping toward him. He half rose. Seeing that concealment
was no longer possible, the man rushed on him. Cho[u]bei struggled to
his feet, as one to fight for life. "Life is dear. Why kill Cho[u]bei
the leper? Is he a test for some new sword? Deign to pardon. The flesh
of the leper is too rotten. It defiles the weapon. Cho[u]bei has been
the _samurai_; he knows.... Ah! Respite there is none. 'Tis Iémon! Iémon
of Tamiya would kill Cho[u]bei!" He shouted and coupled the names in his
despair. Fearful of discovery, of being overheard, Iémon did not delay.
The gleaming weapon descended. Standing over the body Iémon showed
uncertainty. He had some thought of search; even bent down over it. But
he could not touch those foul rags. His nicety of feeling, almost
womanlike--recoiled. Besides, what more had Iémon to do with the leper
Cho[u]bei. Their account was closed. Should he leave the body where it
was? Recognition might convey some danger, at least inconvenience. He
looked around for means to sink it in these waters, and yet not handle
its repulsiveness. A _sho[u]yu_ tub, old but fairly intact, lay upon the
bank. It caught his eye. He rolled it up to the corpse. Gingerly he
girdled the body of the dead man with his _tasuki_ (shoulder cord). Now
tight fast it clasped the roundness of the barrel. This he filled with
stones, drove in the head, and with a shove sent it and its burden into
the Warigesui. "That will hold him down. The rotten punk! Three days,
and none could recognize him." Then he set off at rapid pace for
Yotsuya.