The Wanderer
The rice fields were still brown and green, but the whole world surrounding them was redolent with bright autumn colors. The children of Tanda's village came out of their houses in the early morning with their breath steaming in front of their faces. They pointed at all the leaves on the trees and the boundary line where the cold mist rose up to the mountains. That line marked where the snow would fall that winter. In late autumn, the leaves fell so thickly from the trees that it was possible to hear them all fluttering to the forest floor from far off.
After the rice was harvested and dried, the villagers would get a bit of a rest from working in the fields. This time of rest was when many marriages took place. Neih, who had raised the alarm about the terror of the wild dog, had gotten married at just such a time in the village of Yasugi. She'd received the gift of a beautiful sash on her wedding day.
After the harvested rice was put up in storehouses for the winter, the villagers paid their taxes. Whatever was left over could be sold for a profit. The villagers never made too much money that way, but what little they gained could be used to buy new clothes or material to make them, or new kitchen implements and tools.
Late autumn was the time when young men and women, especially those who were to be married, did the most shopping.
The young women who were to be married went down the mountain path to the city in their best clothes, with tiny prayer bells jangling from waist sashes embroidered with golden thread. It was a custom for families whose daughters were getting married to send their oldest sons to the market for sashes of this type. He would buy them for his sisters before the wedding day. The custom was so common that there were songs written about it. The villagers started to sing them as soon as the rice harvest was over.
The girls who wore these special sashes showed them off to one another with expressions of pride. They were farmers' daughters for the most part and unaccustomed to having such a fine and delicate accessory. They went to the city and came back with their sashes tied firmly around their waists. The girls who were to be married wore the sashes every day from the time their brothers bought them until their wedding day.
Neih should have gotten married the year before, but the family she was supposed to marry into had a sudden death of a daughter and spent the year in mourning. Neih had spent the entire year with the sash tied around her waist.
The path leading down from the mountain villages to Kosenkyo gradually leveled off. The village of Yasugi was just downriver along the side of the road. Huge koza trees lined the road on either side. There were a number of large, flat stones underneath the wide-spreading branches of the trees that were the perfect size and shape to sit on. Travelers and shoppers took a rest there after coming down the mountain, or before heading back to their villages.
Tanda's uncle Onza had always rested on those stones with a basket of sweets in his lap while he smoked a pipe full of sweet-smelling cholu. The rumor was that a wild dog had attacked and killed someone right in this spot, though no one seemed to know if the rumors were true. Autumn was getting on, so people had to get their shopping done, and the place was as crowded as it usually was.
But the rumor was spreading. Men and women returned to their homes and told their parents about the attack breathlessly, like they couldn't believe it themselves. Tanda heard the rumor, too, among kids who were playing in the village square. What surprised him the most was that the rumors weren't about uncle Onza, but someone else.
One of the kids said he was the cousin of a man who'd been attacked by a wild dog at the foot of the mountain. He talked to everyone who would listen about what he knew.
"Y'all probably know my cousin already, but if ya don't, well, you should know that he isn't weak or nothin'. Right?"
The other children surrounding him nodded solemnly. His cousin was a grown man with a large build. They'd seen him carrying huge stacks of firewood up and down the mountain path many times.
"My uncle went over to old man Taroka's house to yell at him," the kid said. "My cousin wouldn't care about something like that, though. He's not scared of some lame ghost."
One of the children listening frowned in confusion.
The kid looked at him and said, "Huh? Don't you know what I'm talking about?"
The child shook his head.
The other kids rolled their eyes. "Seriously, haven't you been listening at all?"
"Did you hit your head or something?"
Children could be cruel.
The kid whose cousin had been attacked cut in, saying, "Fine, I'll explain it again." There was another rumor that the wild dog that had attacked his cousin was possessed by the unquiet spirit of Tanda's uncle Onza, who'd been killed by it. People assumed that Onza's spirit was angry and wandering because of his indecent burial.
"Yeah, I knew all that already," the confused kid said.
"Then why did you give me that look all of a sudden?"
"'Cuz I don't understand why your uncle would yell at Mr. Taroka."
"'Cuz it's all Taroka's fault! Onza's spirit wouldn't be possessing the wild dog if Taroka had just buried his brother properly! That's why my uncle went over there—to talk some sense into that blockhead."
Tanda leaned forward. "Did Taroka say anything?" he asked.
"Not much," the kid said. "He got real mad. Started cursing out Onza for abandoning his family. My uncle said he turned beet red."
The children listening were silent. Taroka was usually kind to children, praising them for their work and patting them on the head. None of them had ever seen him angry before. They couldn't imagine him cursing or yelling or anything like that.
"Is that true?" one of the children asked.
The kid shrugged. "Taroka doesn't believe that the wild dog is possessed by Onza's spirit. He said that if the wild dog attacks again, he'll go dig Onza up and burn the body just to be sure."
The other children appeared shocked. Villagers only burned their dead if they'd died of some kind of infectious illness. Thinking about the usually kind Taroka doing such violence to his brother's body made them shudder.
The children dispersed and started going back to their houses. Tanda went as well, thinking hard about what the others had said. Uncle Onza hated working in the fields, just like me. What would happen if I ever left the village?
His older brothers would be angry—very, very angry. And Noshir was angry with him all the time without even having a reason. He thought about Taroka threatening to burn Onza's body, red-faced and shouting, and wondered if his own brothers would ever hate him so much. He felt terrible for his uncle Onza. He didn't deserve what Taroka had said.
Birds flew overhead, twittering to one another as Tanda walked along the path at the edge of the rice fields back to his house. Tanda listened to the birds, looking up at the gloomy sky. It was still early afternoon, but the quality of the sunlight was weak and pale, like a premonition of winter.
Tanda didn't want to go home. His older brothers would probably badmouth uncle Onza again. They'd say that they understood how Taroka felt. Tanda didn't want to hear that: any of it. He turned on his heel, leaving the main path to the village as he dashed up the mountain to Torogai's hut.
When Tanda reached Torogai's hut, it was quiet. "Balsa?" he asked. "Are you there?"
Balsa heard Tanda as he walked through the rushes outside the hut and came outside.
"You came at a good time," Balsa said with a little smile. "I was about to make dinner."
"Is Torogai coming home?" Tanda's voice was rough-edged with desperation. "Do you know when she's coming back?"
Balsa stopped smiling. "Well, she isn't home yet. And she didn't tell me when she'd be coming back, either. Is something wrong?"
Tanda started speaking in a long stream of words like a gush of water from a newly broken dam. His lips trembled as he held back tears. He didn't know himself why he felt so sad, but he felt like he would cry if he didn't stop himself.
Balsa listened attentively until Tanda stopped speaking. She didn't interrupt. When Tanda finished, she considered for a short while, then asked, "Is there something you wanted from Torogai?"
Yes, but Tanda didn't know exactly what he should ask for. What he really wanted was to tell her everything that he' d just told Balsa. Torogai was very wise. He had to believe that she' d know what to do.
"You want her to get rid of the wild dog or something? " Balsa asked.
"Uh...yeah," Tanda said. He looked down. Tears dripped down his nose and fell to the ground.
"Hey, now," Balsa said. She sounded uncomfortable. " Don't cry..." She frowned. " I know it must be hard in the village, ‘ cuz everyone's badmouthing your uncle. But I think that if he were here, he wouldn't care. He cared about you, not what people said."
Tanda sniffled, still crying. He didn't look at Balsa, but he was listening.
"I've seen a lot of dumb people like the ones in the village," Balsa said. " Men in bars get drunk and talk big, but they're pushovers. The villagers speak badly of your uncle to make them feel better about themselves. None of what they say is actually true. Your uncle and that other guy that the wild dog attacked didn't even have anything in common, did they? Sometimes a wild dog is just a wild dog. "
Tanda looked up at Balsa. He understood that she was trying to cheer him up, and it was working, for the most part. Her words were like a shaft of sunlight parting gloomy clouds within his mind. But Balsa wasn't right about why he was upset— not completely.
"Yeah, but...I mean, some of what the villagers say is true. My uncle Onza was irresponsible, and I can understand why some people would be mad at him. But I can 't understand why anyone would think he' d attack people, even as a spirit. It doesn't make sense."
Tanda tried his best to be precise about what he was thinking and feeling. "I can understand a jealous ghost of a woman who died before she could get married attacking someone carrying one of those special marriage sashes…maybe," Tanda said. " But uncle Onza would never do that." He nodded at his own words.
Every time Tanda considered the idea that his uncle had become a wandering spirit, he remembered his uncle's smiling face. Uncle Onza was not the sort of man to curse people, in life or in death. Sometimes, he'd play with the village children and pretend to be a monster to make them laugh, but he 'd never so much as frightened anyone, at least not on purpose. Tanda remembered his uncle exactly as he was, and he couldn't envision what he would even look like as a vengeful spirit.
Tanda was angry and sad because everyone in the village knew Onza. They knew his smile, his character, his personality, and they still talked about him becoming an evil spirit like it was normal and natural and expected.
"I...feel sorry for uncle Onza," Tanda said. Tears streaked his cheeks." Remember when he used to play monster with us? But he's not a monster. It's like people think that he is, though. Taroka said he'd burn Onza' s body if there was another wild dog attack. But I feel sorry for Taroka , too. He was never mean before, and I can't understand how he could ever hate his brother so much..."
"Isn't Taroka pretty much a stranger?" Balsa asked. " You shouldn't feel sorry for him at all."
The roughness of Balsa's tone made Tanda flinch.
"But anyway, if you feel that way about Onza, why not be sure? You can go down to that place where Onza and that other guy were attacked. Onza wouldn't attack you or anything."
Tanda's mouth fell open. Make sure...wasn't that dangerous? But it was a good idea, regardless. Uncle Onza wasn't dangerous to him. "You' re right," Tanda said. " I'll go. I'll be sure."
Tanda's strong resolve was in sharp contrast to his previous outburst. Balsa snorted with laughter. "You're not scared, right?"
"Nope."
Tanda got goosebumps whenever he thought about running into the ravenous wild dog, but he didn't feel any fear about going to the place where his uncle had died. He felt like it was a place that he should go to, if only just once.
Balsa sighed, ruffled Tanda's hair, then held out her hand." You probably should be more frightened, but whatever. I'll go with you to protect you. I'd have nightmares forever if you got eaten by that wild dog."
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