by Royall Tyler
Kanetoki and Atsuyuki reassured him that they quite understood his predicament, but they reminded him too that they did not represent only themselves. “We have nothing at the guards’ headquarters either,” they went on, “and the men are very unhappy. That’s why we’re all here: the problem affects us all. Naturally we feel for you, sir, and we’re sorry to pressure you like this, but at the same time we certainly wouldn’t have come if we hadn’t felt we had very good reason …”
Their stomachs rumbled shamelessly as they spoke, which was particularly embarrassing since they were so close to the governor. For a time some tried covering the squawks and gurgles by tapping their formal batons against their tables, while others tried different dodges to distract attention from their problem. But the governor behind his blind could hear that bowels were in loud rebellion all down the line and could see perfectly well that the men were doubling up with cramps.
“Excuse me a moment!” exclaimed Kanetoki, and he bolted out. Everyone else leaped up and pelted helter-skelter after him. Some cut loose right on the edge of the gallery, even as they were jumping off. Some made it to the carriage house and burst before they got their trousers off. Others got their trousers off and squirted like nozzles. Then there were those who did not even look for a place to hide but shat, oblivious to all else, wherever they happened to be. All the while they were laughing their heads off. “I knew the old boy would pull something!” they chortled. “No, no, we’ve got no complaint! It’s our own fault. We were too greedy for that wine!” And laughing still, bellyache and all, they shat on in chorus.
Meanwhile, the retainer opened the gate again. “Very well,” he announced, “you gentlemen may leave. Could we have the next contingent, please?”
“Oh yes,” the men chuckled as they left, “by all means get ’em in here and treat ’em to a good shit the way you did us!”
The were wiping at their filthy trousers as they emerged. The men of the other four contingents burst into laughter at the sight and fled.
It had gone exactly as Lord Tamemori had planned. The day was good and hot. He would let them stew for hours under their awnings, then bring them in parched, stuff their empty stomachs with salt fish and plums, and wash it all down for them with plenty of sour, cloudy wine — wine liberally fortified with that trusty medicine for innards in need of encouragement, ground morning-glory seeds. Oh yes, those rascals would shit all right!
Actually, Lord Tamemori was a cagey old scamp and a whiz at making people laugh. This was just his sort of thing. The whole court enjoyed the incident hugely. Those guards had picked a slippery fellow to tangle with!
Perhaps the guards learned their lesson, too, because they never again descended on a provincial governor who failed to make his contribution. Tamemori was very clever to catch them out the way he did. He could never have gotten rid of them by main force.
9.
THE TAPEWORM’S SAD END
Walnuts are still recommended in Japan
against intestinal worms.
Once a woman who had a tapeworm inside her married, conceived, and bore a son. When the son grew up, he began a government career which culminated in his appointment as governor of Shinano province.
On arrival in Shinano the new governor was met at the border by the representatives of the province, as custom required, and welcomed with a banquet. Together, the governor’s own men and the throng of local people made a large party.
Gazing out over the gathering, the governor noticed that every single table, his own included, was liberally heaped with walnuts. The sight bothered him intensely. He felt somehow as though he was being squeezed dry. On asking why the guests should be given so many walnuts, he was told that since walnut trees grew all over the province, walnuts were routine at every meal. This news made him feel still worse and the squeezing sensation continued.
He was getting desperate. This was not missed by the deputy governor, a seasoned old hand who found his new superior’s behavior curious — so odd, in fact, that he wondered whether the governor might not actually be a tapeworm which had managed to get itself born as a human. The thought inspired him to try a little experiment.
The deputy mixed plenty of ground walnut meat into some aged wine and heated the wine well in a jar. Then he put the cup on a tray, lifted the tray respectfully above his head, and went to present it to the governor. When the governor took the cup, his deputy promptly filled it with wine, which the ground walnut made a cloudy white.
The sight made the governor very nervous. “This wine looks strange,” he said. “Why’s it all cloudy?”
“It’s an old custom of ours, sir, that when we welcome a new governor we offer him wine aged three years and mixed with ground walnut. Then the new governor drinks the wine.” The deputy’s tone of voice suggested that the custom was not lightly to be ignored.
The new governor looked even more ill than before and trembled uncontrollably.
“You must drink it, sir,” the deputy insisted.
Shaking violently, the governor brought the cup to his lips. “I’m really a tapeworm!” he blurted. “I can’t take this stuff!” Then he turned to water, slumped to the floor, and flowed away. There was no body at all. The governor’s retainers were overcome by confusion and dismay.
“You never realized, did you?” said the deputy. He and the rest of the party from Shinano packed up and went home.
The governor’s men could only return to the Capital and report what had happened. The governor’s wife, children, and household were very surprised, but everyone who heard the story got a good laugh.
10.
A TOAD TO RECKON WITH
Once a big toad lived in the so-called Guards’ Gate into the palace compound and used to trip people up. Every evening at twilight it would come out and sit there looking like a low rock. No one heading in toward the palace would fail to step on it and fall flat, as the toad hopped off into the gloom. The victim might learn his lesson and look out next time, but for some reason he would always step on the toad again anyway and take the same tumble.
Now a certain student at the Academy was a great fool, always braying with laughter or spouting loud abuse. In time he heard about the toad and allowed that it might get him once, perhaps, but not a second time — no indeed, not even if someone were lurking in the shadows to help it with a push.
Darkness was falling. As the student left the Academy, he remarked that he was off to see a lady who lived on the palace grounds. Within the Guards’ Gate sat the toad.
“Oh, there you are, are you?” the student sneered. “Well, you may get other people but you won’t get me!” As he jumped over the toad his hat unfortunately slipped off, hitting his foot as it fell.
“So you’d like to trip me, would you?” the student bellowed. “We’ll see about that!” He stamped violently on this toad of his, but the hat was the stiff, lacquered kind worn by the gentry, and it resisted being crushed. “Damned toad! Stupid toad! Think you’re so tough, huh?” The student summoned all his pitiful strength and stamped like one possessed.
Some gentlemen came out to see what the commotion was about, sending servants ahead to light the way. The student knelt according to etiquette as the servants approached.
Coming upon a disheveled young man, they asked him what he was doing there. The student identified himself in the tone of a warrior on the field of battle. “You have surely heard of me!” he declaimed. “I am a history student at the Academy, Fujiwara no Thingamajig by name, and concurrently charged with visiting justice upon this toad which trips people up at the Guards’ Gate!”
“What in the world is he talking about?” laughed the servants. “Get him up. Let’s have a look!”
They pulled him roughly to his feet, tearing his cloak and wounding his dignity in the process. When he felt over his head, he found his hat was gone. The servants must have taken it. “What did you steal my hat for?” he roared. “Give it back this minute! Give it back!”
The servants lunged at him and chased him away. As he fled down the avenue outside, he fell flat and scraped his face all bloody, but he picked himself up and ran on, hiding his face behind his sleeve, till he was quite lost. Finally he glimpsed a light. It was a little house. Alas, despite all his knocking at the door the people inside naturally refused to open up. By now it was so late that all he could do was lie down by the ditch till morning.
When the neighborhood awoke at dawn they found him there in his sad state and cried out with surprise. It was only by asking constantly for directions that he managed to find his way home.
There really used to be fools like that in the old days — even in the Academy, apparently, since the fellow was a student there. How odd that he should have been so hopeless, yet so clever in school!
11.
BETTER LATE THAN EARLY
The staff of the Council of State used to hold what were called “morning sessions,” which took place before dawn. The participants would arrive carrying torches.
Once a certain secretary arrived after the controller, who outranked him, had already taken his seat. The secretary had been afraid this might happen, and his fears were confirmed when he got there and saw the controller’s carriage by the gate. Rushing to the council building he found the controller’s servants waiting for their master by the wall. Next, he ran in panic to the door of the East Council Chamber and peered cautiously into the hall. The lamps were out. No one was there.
This was a surprise. Back he went to the controller’s servants, who could only tell him that their master was already inside. The secretary called a guard with a torch and had him light the way into the chamber. At the controller’s seat there was only a bloody head. The hair was scattered far and wide. Nearby lay a ceremonial baton, a bloody pair of shoes, and a fan on which the controller had written the procedure for the meeting. The matting was soaked with blood. There was nothing else.
The horror of the scene can scarcely be described. At dawn an excited crowd gathered while the controller’s servants left with their master’s head.
After that, the morning sessions were no longer held in the East Chamber, but were shifted to the West.
12.
THE RAVENOUS STOREHOUSE
The great lover Ariwara no Narihira made sure he courted every woman known to be a beauty, whether palace lady or common gentleman’s daughter. He became especially fascinated with one girl who was supposed to be lovely beyond imagining, but unfortunately her parents had their hearts set on getting her a far more exalted husband than Narihira. He was not even in the running. Somehow, though, he managed to persuade her to run off with him.
But now that he had her, where was he going to hide her? Finally, he remembered an abandoned, tumbledown mansion in the mountains. The door on the big storehouse was lying broken on the ground, but since the house no longer had a floor, he spread a mat in the storehouse after all. He had just lain down on it with the girl when lightning flashed and there was a crash of thunder. Drawing his sword, he got the girl behind him and kept watch through the storm. At dawn it finally passed.
Puzzled to hear no sound from the girl, Narihira glanced behind him. She was gone. Nothing was left of her but her clothes and her hair. He fled, terrified.
Later he learned that that storehouse was known to eat people. It was not the thunder that had gotten her after all, but the demon in the building.
It just goes to show that you shouldn’t go near a place you don’t know. And as for spending the night there, you shouldn’t even consider it!
13.
THE GRISLY BOX
Ki no Tōsuke lived on an estate the regent owned in Mino province. When the regent sent a gentleman to look after the estate, this gentleman came to rely on Tōsuke above all; and it was Tōsuke who was sent to serve the regent during a lengthy period when the regent was on duty at the palace.
Finally Tōsuke got leave to return home. On the way he naturally crossed the bridge at Seta where the river flows from the southern end of Lake Biwa. A woman was standing there on the bridge, holding her skirt in her hand, and Tōsuke as he passed thought she looked rather odd. Just then she hailed him.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He dismounted politely. “I’m on my way to Mino,” he replied.
“I’d appreciate it so much if you’d take something there for me. Would you do that?”
“Certainly.”
“Oh, thank you!” said the woman, drawing a silk-wrapped box from the inner fold of her robe. “Please take this to Morokoshi village in Mino. You’ll find a woman at the western end of the bridge there. Give this box to her.”
By now Tōsuke was uncomfortable about the whole thing. Not that the request itself was difficult, but the woman was awfully strange. In the end, though, he found it impossible to refuse. “What’s the name of this woman?” he asked. “Where does she live? Where should I look for her if she isn’t on the bridge? And who should I tell her this is from?”
“Don’t worry,” the woman answered. “Just go to the end of the bridge and she’ll come, you can count on that. All you need do is wait. I have to tell you, though, that you absolutely must not open the box.”
Meanwhile Tōsuke’s servants, who saw no woman, could not imagine what their master was doing. Tōsuke took the box and the woman walked off.
He rode on to Mino but forgot all about the box until he was home, even though he actually crossed the bridge where he was supposed to make the delivery. This slip bothered him a good deal when he noticed it, and he decided to make a special trip back to the bridge. But since he could not go right away, he hung the box for the time being high up in an outbuilding.
Unfortunately, his wife, a jealous woman, spotted him hiding the package. She assumed immediately that it was a present for some mistress, and as soon as he was gone she took it down and opened it. It was full of gouged-out human eyes and severed male members with the hair still on them.
Her scream brought Tōsuke running. Remembering with horror what the woman had said about opening the box, he frantically put the lid back on and wrapped the box up again. Then he took it straight to the bridge and waited. Sure enough, a woman appeared. He handed her the package with a short explanation of how he had come by it.
“This box has been opened and looked into,” the woman observed as she took it.
“No, no it hasn’t!” Tōsuke protested, “I assure you!”
The woman’s expression became dreadful. “You’ve done a terrible thing,” she said, but accepted the box nonetheless. His mission completed, Tōsuke hurried home.
Ill now, he took to his bed. His wife bitterly regretted opening the box, but it was too late. Shortly he was dead.
14.
THE BRIDGE
A governor of Ōmi province had many brave young men in his service. One morning they were amusing themselves playing games, drinking, and telling stories when one of them said, “Have you ever heard of Agi Bridge? It’s right here in Ōmi. People used to use it all the time, but now they say no one can cross it, so nobody takes that way any more.”
One of his listeners seemed to have heard of the bridge already (or perhaps he simply did not believe the story) because he quickly declared that he would cross the bridge. “I don’t care what kind of demon is blocking it,” he continued, “I’ll get across as long as I’m riding His Lordship’s best horse, the roan.”
The others thought this a fine idea. “All right, let’s find out!” they cried. “Let’s see what sort of courage you’ve got!” The gathering got quite rowdy while they egged him on, till the governor himself heard the noise and wanted to know what it was all about. When he found out he was not impressed with the demon-baiter’s good sense, but he did not object to the use of his horse.
“This is crazy!” the daredevil exclaimed. “I’m sorry I ever brought it up!”
“Shame, shame!” the others shouted. “Coward!”
“Getting across the bridge
is nothing,” the man went on. “What makes me sorry is that I should ever have seemed to covet His Lordship’s horse!”
Loud voices objected that the sun was already high and that they were wasting time. The roan was saddled.
Though he wished he had never opened his mouth, the man was determined to see the thing through. He smeared the horse’s hindquarters liberally with grease, cinched the saddle on tight, and lightened his clothing, then slipped his wrist through the loop on the whip handle so that he could not drop it and rode off. By the time he reached the bridge his heart was pounding and he was frightened half to death, but there was no turning back.
The sun was sinking toward the mountains and the deserted landscape looked indefinably bleak. Wisps of smoke rose from the houses of a distant village. He gritted his teeth and pressed on. Halfway across the bridge a woman was leaning against the railing, though from further off she had not seemed to be there.
This no doubt was the demon. He looked her over with deep misgiving. Under her pale cloak she had on a dark gown and a long red trouser-skirt, and she was holding her sleeve over her mouth. She looked so pathetic that at first glance it was hard not to feel sorry for her. She might have just been abandoned there.
The demon watched him coming with signs of mingled embarrassment and pleasure, and for a moment he could think of nothing but the desire to lift her up on his horse and take her away; but the thought that she had no business being there let him steel himself to ride on by. She clearly expected him to stop, and when instead he galloped past with his eyes tightly shut she shouted, “Say, are you just going to leave me here? I didn’t ask to be dropped here in the middle of this bridge! You could at least take me on to the next village!”