Part 8 (2/2)

The villagers were silent. Several among their number nodded in agreement. The fact that this s.h.i.+p had not gone aground on the reef while trying to seek safe harbour meant it was different from previous O-fune-sama. All the people on board being dead must mean that it had drifted into the little village bay merely carried on the currents and blown by the winds.

Isaku supposed that the bright red clothes on the corpses were an indication of the nature of the s.h.i.+p itself. It reminded him of the colour of the rising sun, the start of a new day, its brightness also representing the continuation of life. The bright red at dusk was rea.s.suring, promising that as one day came to a close another would follow. Isaku thought that it was indeed fortunate for their village to have been blessed by the visit of this s.h.i.+p and its richly clad pa.s.sengers.

'Revered elder,' stammered the man who had checked below the s.h.i.+p's decks. The elder turned to face him.

'The bodies on the s.h.i.+p, they've got scars from what must have been spots. All over them. Faces, arms, legs ... Terrible pockmarks,' said the man, grimacing. The villagers looked fixedly at the two men.

'Spots?' replied the elder sceptically.

The snowfall was suddenly heavier. The elder stared out at the s.h.i.+p in front of them.

'There are all sorts of ”spots”. What kind of spots do you mean?' snapped the elder impatiently.

The man looked as though he was brooding over something and paused before replying. 'It was dark below deck and I couldn't see all that well, but they looked like the sort of thing you get with a rash.'

'If it's a rash, maybe they ate some fish that was spoiled, or even a fish that was poisonous. If they'd run out of rice and were starving, they might very well eat that kind of fish,' said a man standing next to Isaku.

'But if it was just a simple rash, that wouldn't leave pockmarks. If there're pockmarks on the bodies, it's some other sickness,' retorted a middle-aged man, silencing the man beside Isaku. Another, voice trembling with cold, said, 'It could be the fever-flower,' at which the hint of a smile crossed the elder's face. It was the first time Isaku had heard the name of this illness, so he had no idea why the elder should find it amusing.

'The fever-flower?' said a young man, looking questioningly at the elder. The middle-aged man replied, 'You haven't heard of it? On my trips to the next village I've seen lots of men smitten with the fever-flower. They get spots all over their face and arms and legs, and pus oozes out of the spots. The spots are shaped a bit like plum or cotton flowers, and sometimes they get a fever, so it's called the fever-flower.' Turning to the man who checked below deck, he asked, 'Were the spots on the bodies a reddish colour? Did they look anything like the shape of a flower?'

'Now that you mention it, I've seen men in that condition sitting on the side of the road in the next village, and the spots looked just like that. No, it's not a rash,' he said, nodding back and forth.

Listening to the men's conversation, Isaku realised that there were many things he had yet to learn. He'd been to the next village before, but he'd never seen men with spots of that description. He wondered what on earth could cause such a hideous disease.

Several men had cleared snow away down to the sand and were busy lighting a fire with the sticks and firewood from the hut used as shelter during salt-making. Surrounded by the throng of villagers on the beach, the chief stood pensively in front of the flames.

The elder proceeded to make an announcement: 'I had thought that this boat was part of some kind of celebration. It would seem that's not the case. This must have been done as a punishment. The fever-flower is a disease that afflicts men whose l.u.s.t leads them to a.s.sociate with loose women. Such women carry the pox, so when a man indulges himself the disease spreads all over his body from his private parts. The fever-flower is heaven's punishment for the l.u.s.tful. No doubt the village or town chief collected together those men whose boils stank of the evil disease and put them on this s.h.i.+p, taking them out to sea and leaving them to drift on the currents. The fact that there are no sails or oars can only mean that they were banished, meant to drift to their deaths at the ends of the seas.'

Isaku finally understood the nature of the sickness. In the next village there were houses and streets bustling with people and cattle. There were all sorts of shops, even places where you could buy food or drink if you had the money. Money, it seemed, could buy you anything. The people in the next village looked as if they were enjoying lives free from want, but at the same time this hideous disease called the fever-flower was lurking as the spoils of carnal pleasure. So that was why the elder had smiled when he mentioned the words 'fever-flower'.

The village chief deliberately turned to look at the elder, and took a deep breath before announcing, 'Even if there is no cargo on her, there is no changing the fact that she's O-fune-sama. We've been blessed with this visit, so we can't just push her back out to sea.'

The elder nodded gravely.

'That's true. But as we can see from here, she's little more than an old tub, and her timbers would be good for nothing more than firewood. There doesn't seem to be anything of value among her tools, either. Even so, let's at least get them on sh.o.r.e. It sounds as if the only thing we could use is the clothes on the bodies,' he replied.

'And we won't get the disease if we take the clothes off these bodies?' asked the village chief, a troubled look in his narrowed eyes.

'There's no chance of that. The fever-flower is transferred only when a man penetrates a woman who is carrying the disease. Even with clothes soiled by pus or blood from the boils, if we use them after they've been washed thoroughly there is nothing to fear,' replied the elder in a tone br.i.m.m.i.n.g with confidence.

Seemingly satisfied, the chief nodded in agreement.

'We only get to see things like these red clothes in the next village. They're certainly a sight. Say we keep them for young children to wear or use them at celebrations. These red clothes could very well be an omen of good fortune,' said the elder. Again the chief nodded approvingly.

Turning to the men, the elder bellowed his commands. 'Well then, get out there and strip the clothes off the bodies. Claim whatever fittings you can. Then tow her out and let her drift away on the current. She'll break up and sink before too long.'

The men nodded in unison, then dashed to the water's edge. Five boats were pushed out onto the water. Bobbing up and down in a line, they made their way to the s.h.i.+p through what was by now a fierce snowfall.

Isaku planted his axe upright in the snow and stood there, mesmerised by the movements of the little boats. They drew up alongside the s.h.i.+p and the men disappeared below deck. In his mind's eye, Isaku could imagine the villagers stripping the red clothes off the pockmarked bodies. Before long he could see red things being handed down into the five boats. There seemed to be a large quant.i.ty as the men pa.s.sed them one after another to the waiting hands below. Finally, what appeared to be s.h.i.+p's tools were loaded into the boats before they pushed away from the side of the s.h.i.+p. The five boats threaded a path through the reef and made their way back to the sh.o.r.e, where the villagers were waiting by the water's edge. The bounty from the s.h.i.+p was unloaded and carried promptly to where the village chief was standing. Isaku had expected to be a.s.sailed by a nauseating stench from the pus-stained clothes, but there was nothing more than the dank smell of mould.

The elder spread out the clothes and, eyes abrim with satisfaction, p.r.o.nounced, 'This is good rugged cloth. And just look at this beautiful red.' The belts and socks were also a vivid red, and it was quite beyond Isaku how something could be dyed to produce such a colour. It was a far deeper hue, much finer in texture, and had a better sheen to it than anything in cloth woven from linden bark. Sighs of wonder could be heard from the women standing on the beach. Utensils claimed from the s.h.i.+p included a rice tray, some sacks of charcoal, a wooden brazier, some pots and pans, and a red monkey mask.

The village chief sneezed two or three times before leaving the beach accompanied by the more senior members of the community. The elder ordered the clothes and utensils to be carried to the chief's house. Several men tossed ropes into their boats and started rowing away from the sh.o.r.e, ten little vessels in all.

The boats pulled up alongside the s.h.i.+p on the reef, and the men on board tied the ropes firmly to the larger vessel. Using long poles, they worked hard to dislodge the s.h.i.+p from the rocks; eventually she lurched free and floated clear. The fleet of little boats headed for the deeper water offsh.o.r.e, the ropes straining taut as the s.h.i.+p and its complement of corpses slowly moved away from the sh.o.r.e. Isaku could still faintly hear the fishermen's rowing chant, though in the heavy snowfall he soon lost sight of the group of boats.

The Hour of the Sheep had come and gone before the men returned from towing the s.h.i.+p out to sea. The snow had stopped. They knelt in front of the village chief and the elder and reported that they had towed the s.h.i.+p out far enough to see her taken by the current toward the north-east. The elder nodded. As a sign that prayers of grat.i.tude for being blessed with the coming of O-fune-sama should begin, the village chief pressed his palms together. The villagers turned to face the sea and followed his lead. Weak shards of sunlight peeked from between the clouds, lighting up the sea far offsh.o.r.e.

When the village chief had finished his prayer, the elder said, 'The clothes bestowed upon us by O-fune-sama shall be given to little girls and women. They will be handed out at the chief's house. None will be given to the men.'

A hint of a t.i.tter could be detected from the men. The village chief and the elder went off up the beach, followed by the villagers. No doubt Isaku's sister and mother would be given some of the clothes, and Isaku felt elated at the thought that their house would be brightened by the brilliant red.

The elders of the village walked into the chief's house proper, the rest of the throng remaining on the lower dirt floor. Folded up in neat sets, the red clothes were laid out in rows on the straw mats. The very sight of these garments brought grins of joy to the faces of the women.

Bowing deeply before the village chief, the senior elder got to his feet. 'There are twenty-three sets of clothing. Counting from the smallest child, they will be given to twenty-three young girls. It wasn't clear how to divide up the socks and the belts, but our revered chief decided that, since this red is also used to celebrate old age, we should give them to old women so that they may live longer, healthier lives yet, and so the belts and socks will be given out to the oldest among them,' he said, surveying the scene in the room. When the elder sat down, three men got to their feet and stood beside the display of clothes. As one of them called out the name of a young girl, the other two, kneeling, picked up a set of clothes and held it beside the edge of the raised straw-matting section of the floor. The parents of the girls named came forward to receive their allotted garments. Some households were even given two or three sets. The grateful people prostrated themselves in front of the village chief.

On hearing the man announce the name of Isaku's younger sister, Kane, Isaku's mother stepped forward, accepted the clothes, and raised them above her head in a show of grat.i.tude. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile shone across her face.

The belts and socks were handed out to the old women, some of whom smiled with embarra.s.sment at receiving something so splendid. By now the cheerful atmosphere had infected everyone in the room.

When the last of the clothes had been handed out, the elder bowed deeply in front of the village chief before getting to his feet.

'The presentation of the bounty from O-fune-sama is over. These are truly fine garments, so use them only for celebrations. Take good care of them so that they may be pa.s.sed down to generations to come. And remember, these clothes are from the bodies on O-fune-sama. Be sure to scrub them clean.'

The villagers gathered in the room prostrated themselves on the floor in response to the elder's words. As soon as the women stepped out of the chief's house they broke into a lively chatter. They were not slow to realise that the adult clothes could be unst.i.tched and made into two or even three pieces of clothing for a little girl. Laughter broke out among the old women when one of them wrapped a belt round herself like a loincloth. Isaku plodded back through the snow to his house, eyes focused on his mother, for the gaiety in her face was something he had not seen in a long time.

When they got back home, his mother placed the red clothes in front of the family's ancestral tablet and lit the small amount of oil she had poured into a wooden dish. Isokichi was cutting firewood down on the dirt floor and Kane was playing beside him, but when their mother beckoned they came up onto the straw matting and sat in front of the ancestral tablet. Following their mother's lead, Isaku and his brother and sister raised their hands in prayer. The light in the little dish flickered as the dark of the night started to set in. Their mother scooped rice from the open bale and started to boil gruel. 'The day your father gets back we'll dress you in some nice red clothes,' she said to Kane as the little girl sipped her vegetable porridge.

Isaku was once again reminded that their father never left his mother's thoughts. He could picture the scene next spring when the four of them, with Kane all dressed up in her red clothes, would go out to meet his father after his three years as a bond slave. In the murk of the room, the red clothes stood out in bold relief against the dim light from the dish but looked somehow out of place. Indeed, the inside of the house seemed to be glowing, with only that spot lit up.

The next morning when they awoke, the sea was calm, so Isaku and Isokichi got ready to go out fis.h.i.+ng. Their mother was already was.h.i.+ng the red clothes in the little stream behind the house. It seemed that other women were doing the same, because Isaku could hear their cheerful voices.

He pushed the boat out; and dropped a line over the side once he got near the reef. Isokichi called out and motioned with a half-turn of his head for Isaku to look to the sh.o.r.e. Isaku couldn't help smiling at the sight of bright red garments hanging out to dry throughout the village. The swaying objects were the belts, and the things that looked like red berries on a tree must be the socks. With the snow-covered mountainside as a backdrop to the village, it was a beautiful sight to behold.

By the time they returned in the late afternoon, the bright red had disappeared. Isaku swung the oar over his shoulder and made his way home with Isokichi.

The red clothes had been hung up on the wall. With the stains now washed off, the red appeared all the brighter and the material had a keen l.u.s.tre to it. The elder had said that the clothes should be stored with great care so that they might be handed on to future generations, and indeed they were so precious that the chances were the village would never see anything like them again.

Isokichi, too, stood for some time in front of the garments, his eyes glistening in awe.

8.

The village was still covered in deep snow, but the worst of the winter was over. Icicles which had been hanging from the eaves of the houses seemed to vanish in the s.p.a.ce of a day, and a vaporous haze hung over the surface of the brook that flowed past Isaku's house. With the coming of February, sleet became more common.

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