CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

SOMETIMES A TRICKLE, SOMETIMES A WILD SEA

The Oi River lay just beyond Shimada, the twenty-third post station. It was always treacherous. In flood it was deadly, the worst of the many rivers that flowed down from the mountains and cleaved the Tkaid.

The Oi wasn’t usually flooded at this time of year, but the weather had been unusually warm. Melted snow from the mountains covered the wide floodplain. It carved steep banks and formed deeps where shallows had been before. The rains washed away mountainsides. The trees that had grown there rode the flood’s crest. Rocks and gravel and mud traveled downstream, to be deposited near the river’s mouth.

Cat stood in the mire at the river’s edge while Kasane read the government order on the sign posted there.

“It says we mustn’t cross.” Kasane slowly sounded out the characters. “It says the transport office will advise all travelers when the way is safe so that ‘they may proceed according to their rank.’”

“Even if the water recedes today,” Cat said, “the lords’ processions will require all the available boats and porters to cross. We would still be delayed for days.”

Cat and Kasane glanced back at the thatched roofs of Shimada. The rain had turned the town into a quagmire. Muddy sandals were heaped at the doors of any establishment that could provide lodging. Layers of sodden straw raincoats hung dripping from the eaves.

The inns were filled with the retainers and porters and attendants of Lord Hino’s councilor, who was traveling to Edo. Half his people had crossed the river and were waiting for the rest, stranded on the far side. Lord Wakizaka’s retinue hadn’t arrived yet, but already those without the privileged status of daimy were sleeping under roofed gates and verandas, chapels and bridges.

Cat knew she had to keep in front of Lord Wakizaka, who was heading in the same direction she was. He was allowed to take a thousand men with him when he traveled. Even if he only had a fraction of that with him, he would cause long delays at every river ford.

“What shall we do?” Kasane followed Cat, who was already slogging along the path that led upriver.

“Find a boat.”

 

 

The boat groaned and shuddered. For what seemed forever it hung motionless in the maelstrom, suspended from the boatmen’s poles. Then its stern flipped up, plunging the long, flattened prow into an eddy that spun it around.

Cat and Kasane and the tubs and bales that made up the cargo slid down the shallow bilge, ending in a heap in the bow. Cat grabbed Kasane’s legs in time to keep her from pitching over the low gunwale and into the clay-colored water surging and heaving around them.

Cat lay sprawled among the straw-wrapped bales of rice. She was prepared to die, but she resented being seasick. She hauled herself up, rested her chin on the downwind gunwale, and vomited into the waves. She sighed with relief and slumped back down.

Cat had seen carpenters and porters, coopers and gardeners and stonemasons, perform tasks that seemed much too strenuous for the fragile apparatus of muscles, tendons, and bones. She had seen peasants carrying their own weight and more in the loads on their backs. But she had never seen anyone work as hard as the three men in this boat.

For the last half of the hour of the Monkey they had been struggling to reach the opposite shore, still five cho away. With feet braced, they stood at the stern and wrestled with the sweep and the poles that usually propelled their battered old dory. The poles were bending like bamboo in a typhoon. The sinews on the men’s arms and backs and the veins on their foreheads bulged until Cat thought they surely would break.

Kasane grabbed Cat’s arm. “Look!”

Cat turned to see a barge broach in a whirlpool upstream. Sideways and out of control, it raced toward them through the gathering darkness. It seemed to swallow up the scenery as it came.

Cat held Kasane close and stroked her wet hair as though she were a child. “None of us is destined to live forever,” she said.

Kasane didn’t seem terribly comforted. She would have liked to live long enough to hear her suitor’s voice. And she was terrified of river demons dragging her under and ripping out her liver.

“Namu Amida Butsu.” Kasane’s chanting was muffled because she had buried her face in Cat’s jacket. “Homage to Amida Buddha.” The drone of her chant set up tickling vibrations in Cat’s chest.

With her arms around Kasane, Cat watched the barge angle in on its disastrous course. The slimy black planks of its side loomed over them, filling her field of vision. She could see the terror on the bargemen’s pale faces as they clung to whatever handholds they could find. They were shouting, but they couldn’t be heard over the roar of the water.

Cat didn’t flinch when the barge hit the bow, knocking it aside with a bone-rattling jolt. The wet wood shrieked as the barge scraped its entire length along the smaller boat’s forward section.

The huge sweep, chiseled from the trunk of a cypress, slammed back and forth in its cradle. With each swing it thumped the side of the boat until Cat was sure it would shatter it. Then the barge was clear of them.

It hit a submerged boulder with a grinding crash that sent its crew flying. When they landed the water closed in over their heads. The barge split apart as if it were a toy.

In its fatal journey it must have gathered to itself all the malevolent spirits of the flood, because the rest of the passage was uneventful. Cat had prepared herself so well for death that she was surprised when the keel plowed into the mud of the Oi’s western shore. Two of the crew helped Cat and Kasane across the sagging gangplank and up the slippery bank. After the plunging and surging of the boat, the ground seemed to rise too solidly to meet Cat’s feet, and she walked stiff-legged.

While the men secured the line, Cat and Kasane stood shivering among pyramidal stacks of the river porters’ ladderlike pallets. They were surrounded by fish weirs, algae nets, discarded wooden lunch boxes and wrappings, straw raincoats, and broken sandals, the detritus of commerce and travel.

“We are mortified at the discomfort you have suffered in our poor craft.” The owner and captain of the boat bowed apologetically. Ashore he was much smaller than he had seemed at the sweep.

“The blame is ours for inconveniencing you in such weather.” Cat slipped a paper packet into the captain’s sleeve. It contained all the silver coins she had left. “Please honor us by accepting this insignificant token.”

The boat’s owner slid his hand tactfully into his sleeve and hefted it. “It’s rude of me to disagree, but this is too much.”

He bowed until Cat could see only his back, the black whisk of a topknot, and the long, wet hanks of hair that had escaped it and clung to his neck. “Our fee is one hundred and sixty coppers for each passenger.”

“But the river is so dangerous …”

“Please …” While he talked and bowed, the captain separated out the equivalent of three hundred and twenty coppers and rewrapped the rest, all without taking his hand out of his sleeve. “We could not cheat you by asking for more.” He returned the packet.

“An honest man’s head is the seat of the gods.” Cat and Kasane bowed low. “The Lord of Immeasurable Light will bless you.”

With wishes for a safe journey, the three boatmen trotted off into the dusk toward Kanaya. The town’s main street was marked by a string of lights snaking up into a narrow, tree-choked cleft in the foothills.

Now that the danger was past, Cat stood on the bank and watched the water rush by. Musashi said the spirit was like water. It adopted the shape of its receptacle. It was sometimes a trickle and sometimes a wild sea. Both in fighting and in everyday life, Musashi said, one’s spirit must be calm yet determined.

Cat stood there until her legs had stopped trembling and her spirit had calmed. By the time she and Kasane reached Kanaya, the watchman was making the first of his night’s rounds. He clapped his wooden blocks, and in a lilting chant he warned householders about the dangers of untended hearths.

“How does your ankle feel?” Cat asked.

“Much better. The Okitsu medicine is as good as it’s claimed to be.”

“Mitsuke lies about seven ri ahead, and there are no rivers that require porters between here and there. Can you walk that far tonight?”

“The crossroad ogres might wish us harm, my lady,” Kasane murmured.

“I’ll warn them away with my staff.” Cat pounded her pilgrim’s staff thrice on the road, setting the iron rings to jangling. “And if they don’t heed the warning, I’ll skewer them like dumplings.” She flourished the staff and made a comic face.

“Let’s go, then.” Kasane smiled gamely.

Kasane was uncertain about traveling at night. On the one hand she was terrified of the evil beings that lurked in the dark, especially at the meeting of the roads. But Mitsuke was where she hoped to find a message from her pilgrim.

She knew he himself was probably somewhere behind her, but she was learning the ways of the road. She knew he could pay a messenger to carry the letter ahead and post it on the temple gate. Since Okitsu she had studied each messenger jogging past with his wooden letter box on his back. Perhaps in one of them lay a poem written in her lover’s strong, simple hand.