The Wanderer - Floating Rice Husks - Chapter 3

  The Wanderer

(Book 11 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist

 

Floating Rice Husks - Chapter 3

 

    Tanda reached Tōhata village just when it was growing dark. The huts were all dome-shaped and formed of mud baked to clay by the sun. Most of the people living in the village were fully Yakoo, like Tanda' s grandmother.

    Tanda's maternal grandfather had passed away two years ago. He' d been part Yogoese and had looked more Yogoese than Yakoo, based on his lighter skin color. Tanda's grandmother had the slight build and browner skin that was typical of the Yakoo.

    Tanda's grandmother had once lived in the villages of Yashiro and Toumi in her youth, but she'd settled on Tō hata as the best place to raise a family. When she'd resettled to Tōhata, she' d said that she never wanted to move again for the rest of her life.

    Smoke rose from the small holes in the roofs of the huts as Tanda drew near. It was dinnertime, and various savory smells reached Tanda's nose.

    Tanda stopped outside his grandmother's door and called out a polite greeting: "Good evening!"

    "Who is it?" Tanda's grandmother called back. Her tone was light and friendly, not irritated.

    Tanda stepped into the house and noticed his grandmother stretched out in front of the hearth fire. When his grandmother saw him, she smiled.

    "Oh, it's you, Tanda! I was sure I'd be spending a quiet evening without any children. You' re very welcome to stay for dinner. Come in, come in." 

    She paused, then said, "I heard about what's happening in your family' s fields. How awful. When I was a girl, our field was small, so my father would take care of the blackbugs himself and send us children to help the neighbors."

    Tanda's grandmother had an older brother who' d married into a Yakoo family. His son had married another Yakoo, and later, the son and his wife came to live with Tanda's grandmother. Tanda' s grandmother and her nephew's wife had gotten along well from the first and were good friends. Tanda felt more at ease in this place than he did at  his own house.

    Tanda's grandmother often had visitors, but tonight, there was only Tanda, his uncle, and his aunt. They all prepared the evening meal together. Tanda 's uncle set a fire in the irori, then sat down.

    The house had a distinctive and somewhat peculiar smell. Tanda's uncle was a hunter and often cured meat, so it was the family' s habit to burn sweet-smelling bark and herbs to freshen the air.

    Tanda's uncle threw some dried bark into the irori' s fire. The pleasant-smelling smoke drifted up from the fire and exited the hut via a small hole in the roof.

    Since most of the people in Tōhata were Yakoo, they lived their lives in a traditional Yakoo manner. They didn' t maintain large rice fields, instead making their living by hunting and gathering food to trade for other goods. Everyone in the village shared what was brought in by the hunters and gatherers so that no one would starve.

    The most common game to hunt was deer, followed closely by wild boar. The villagers dried the meat and sold it to the surrounding villages for rice and other staples. Since deer and b oar ate crops and wreaked havoc in the fields, the people in the nearby villages were grateful to Tōhata's hunters.

    Tanda told his uncle about the medicine water.

    His uncle nodded gratefully. "Thank you for saving some for us," he said. "We haven' t had to use smoke sticks here, but this will still be good to have. That smoke stings the eyes something fierce."

    Tanda's uncle poured the medicine water into a new kitchen pot. " Thank your mother for sending it in the pot, too. You can go back to her with it tomorrow."

    "Naya bark medicine, huh?" Tanda's grandmother asked with a little sigh. " That takes me back."

    "Huh?" Tanda asked. "Grandma, do you know about this medicine?"

    "I used to make it for my uncle," Tanda's grandmother said. " His eyes bothered him whenever he smoked meat. I've forgotten the right way to harvest the bark."

    Torogai's uncle nodded in sad understanding. "Most hunters don't smoke meat the same way we used to. "

    Tanda's grandmother cupped his cheek in her wrinkled hand. "Thank you for reminding me of the past,"  she said. "Who taught you how to make this medicine?"

    Tanda's grandmother was somewhat deaf. Tanda leaned in and told her what Torogai had said about how to make the medicine.

    "Oh, Torogai. She is very wise and knows much. You should learn all you can from her so that you can grow up to be a wise man."

    "I will!" Tanda nodded happily. He wanted to learn everything that Torogai knew.

    Tanda's uncle put his hands on his thighs for support and stood up. "I' ll give you some boar meat as thanks for the medicine. It's been curing for quite a while and should be ready to eat. If you're hungry, we can eat some now. "

    Tanda's aunt smiled. "That would be nice," she said. " I made okina soup to help soothe our throats after all that smoke today. If I add a bit of meat to it, it'll be a feast." 

    Tanda's uncle cut down some strips of dried boar meat. Tanda rinsed out his mother' s pot while waiting for the meat to cook. He helped with making the meal as much as he could. As a third son who hated field work, he' d spent a lot of time with his mother in the kitchen and knew the proper way to chop vegetables and mix ingredients. Tanda had a knack for cooking. If his mother showed him how to do something once, he usually remembered it. 

    Tanda tasted the okina soup and pulled a face. The broth was so bitter.

    Tanda's grandmother laughed. "You're even more sensitive than our Tona,"  she said.  

     The broth was bitter, but the meat was very soft after being soaked and boiled. It was salty and spicy and very delicious. Tanda hadn' t eaten anything since breakfast, so he devoured his dinner and paid no attention to anything else for awhile. 

    In addition to the soup, Tanda' s aunt put out a dish of mixed rice that was roasted, then spiced with many herbs. Tanda asked for two helpings. Eating while surrounded by the swirling, sweet-smelling smoke from the irori was nice and comfortable. 

    When he was almost done eating, Tanda remembered that he'd come here to ask his grandmother about his uncle Onza. He chewed a piece of meat, then swallowed. "Um, today…" he trailed off, searching for words. In fits and starts, he told his grandmother what Nī's family had  said about a curse that afternoon. 

    Tanda's grandmother shook her head. "Do you really think that my little dancing Onza would curse a village with you in it, Tanda? " she asked. "He was a good-hearted person who always wanted to make people smile. He might try to keep singing after death, but he wasn' t the kind of man who would curse people."

    "You're right," Tanda said.

    Tanda's uncle ladled more soup into a bowl. " Taroka must be feeling pretty rotten about now. There was bad blood between him and Onza, even though they were brothers. He buried him outside of town, at the very edge of the village, even though Onza was no criminal. It 's sad."

    Tanda's uncle shrugged. " I can kind of understand how Taroka feels. Onza was the oldest son, and all of his responsibilities fell on Taroka when he left."

    Tanda startled in surprise. "Does uncle Taroka hate uncle Onza? Why?"

    Tanda's uncle sighed. "It' s a long story. Their parents died young in an epidemic that swept through the village. Onza sold off his inheritance and went to the capital. His share of the inheritance was half of the family' s rice fields.

    "That put Taroka in a bad spot. He had to support the whole family on half the land they' d owned before, and they had several younger siblings. Neih and Ori, the oldest siblings after Taroka, married out of the family soon after. Taroka had to raise the younger ones all alone."

    Tanda's grandmother put a tea service on the table near the irori. "Taroka's a fool,"  she said. "Onza loved Ori more than anyone. We used to tease him about it all the time. All the kids got along pretty well, before..."

    "Isn't Ori about as old as mom?" Tanda asked.

    Tanda's grandmother nodded.

    "She's a year or two older than me," Tanda's uncle said. " He went downstream to Yasugi and met a man there that she wanted to marry. Onza came to see them married. I never saw him so happy. He bought Ori a sash embroidered with gold thread to add to her wedding attire. I can see it now, shining in the sun. "

    Tanda's grandmother laughed, but it was a lonely sound. " It's a shame she never wore it. Onza was so happy when he presented it to her. He was always happy. He gave his earnings from the capital to the villagers that day, so everyone was in high spirits. He came here a lot, though he never went to see his older sister, not once. Whenever I talked to Ori about it, she looked troubled. "

    "Ori will be angry about Onza's indecent burial," Tanda's uncle said.

    Tanda's grandmother nodded in agreement. "I like to think that Onza was going to visit Ori,"  she said. "It would probably soothe his spirit if Ori visited his grave. But Ori hurt her hip pretty badly awhile back. She hasn' t been able to leave Yasugi village in a while."

    Tanda's grandmother took a sip of tea, then smiled sadly. " I think Onza was going to visit Ori when he was attacked by that wild dog. It was very like him to wander along the road."

    Tanda's uncle nodded. "He liked to wander, play his pipe, and dance. And now he' s gone...dead along the side of the road. It doesn't seem real." He looked at Tanda. "But I think your grandma is right. Onza wasn 't the sort of man to curse anyone."

    The next morning, Tanda's uncle went out early to check his traps. Tanda felt quietly satisfied as he got on the road leading home. He' d accomplished what he set out to do. He was glad that uncle Onza's spirit wasn't hurting anyone.

    Everyone was probably out in the fields already. When he got home, the house was dark and empty. Tanda got a drink from a water jar, then went outside to look for his family.

    A gentle breeze blew across the fields, full of rice ready to harvest. Sunlight burnished the rice plants to a golden shine. Tanda saw people moving in the fields from afar: his father, uncle, and Noshir. They hadn 't seen him yet.

    Tanda rubbed his eyes, then looked around for his sister Cheena and his other brother, but they were nowhere to be found. That probably meant that they were out scaring birds to chase them away from the fields.

    But why? Tanda frowned. Birds hated zeko smoke, too. There shouldn't be any birds at all in the fields today. His siblings didn' t need his help to chase off birds if there were no birds to chase.

    I can go to Torogai 's hut today.

    His brother and sister were probably with his mother in the fields somewhere, but no one really needed him to be here today. They'd probably assume that he 'd stayed in Tōhata to help his grandmother. No one would question his story.

    Tanda sneaked back to the house, careful not to let anyone see him. Then he started running up the path to Torogai's hut.

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