Dororo: A Novel
Tsuji Masaki
Part Five
The Tale of Hakumenfudō,
the Demon Without a Face
Chapter 2
Dororo’s parents were named Hibukuro and Ōjiya. Hibukuro commanded a large force of men and women who stole from the wealthy. Though lordless, Hibukuro managed to attack and occupy a town. He had a ready supply of horses and the ability to ship goods in and out of the town.
But one day, Hibukuro and the bandit town were betrayed.
One of Hibukuro’s followers, Itachi, was responsible. Dissatisfied with his lot, he planned a coup d’etat and assumed Hibukuro’s place.
Hibukuro died in the midst of battle, stuck so full of arrows that he could no longer run or fight. He bought enough time for his wife and Dororo to escape, but neither Ōjiya nor Dororo had any supplies, and they were soon at risk of starving to death.
In these times of great strife and struggle between the samurai class and the noble clans, it was always the farmers and common folk that suffered the most. Food was stolen or appropriated by armies. Consequently, farmers starved, and the fields the following year had fewer workers to tend to them. Famine was widespread.
Dororo and Ōjiya weren’t farmers or samurai or nobles. After losing their home, there was nothing they could do except beg. They stayed on the road, traveling from east to west, eating whatever the kindness of strangers allowed them.
When Dororo was four years old, his mother died. It was one of his earliest memories. His mother died during the winter--a winter so long that the people suffering through it no longer hoped for spring. There was a terrible blizzard; Dororo and Ōjiya were caught in it, lost and with nowhere to go.
The autumn had been a particularly difficult one, as well. Whenever Dororo and Ōjiya managed to get their hands on food, Ōjiya would give it all to her child. Ōjiya was wasted and thin and couldn’t keep her footing on the slippery ground. She fell into the snow over and over again.
On the night of the blizzard, Ōjiya fell and didn’t have the strength to rise. The snow covered her too-thin body like a shroud.
Dororo was so little. There was nothing that he could do to help her. He called for help, but no one came. He tried to dig his mother out, but the snow fell too thick. Finally, he gave up, curling into a ball next to his mother. He fell into a fitful doze.
Perhaps Dororo would have frozen to death, but his mother was still warm. He huddled in close and hugged her. Dororo was never sure if that long night was a dream or a real experience.
The next morning, he was wide awake. The blizzard was over, and the sun shone warm and bright as if it were the beginning of spring.
“Ah! Mom! Wake up! It’s morning!” Dororo said.
Ōjiya didn’t rise. Dororo shook her shoulder gently and felt just how cold she’d become overnight. “That’s weird... mom, you’re cold as ice!”
Dororo’s mother said nothing in reply.
“Mom? Mom!” Dororo cried out sharply, but nothing he said or did provoked any reaction from his mother. She’d died protecting her only child, and she would never open her eyes again.
“Mom, get up! Come on! You can’t die! Mom!”
Mom...
Mom...
Dororo told this tragic tale to the woman who’d taken him into her home.
“You poor dear,” the woman said. “You’ve suffered so much for one so young.” She was crying a little. When she moved to wipe away her tears, the wind picked up, blowing in from the north. Dororo, who was sitting near the window, shivered.
The wind brought a strange echoing sound with it, like a voice crying out. “Oh! Oh!”
“Uh, what is that?” Dororo asked.
The wind kept blowing in through the window, colder than rain and hail. “Oh! Oh!”
All around them, the wind blew louder and louder. Dororo thought the sky itself was shaking from the force of the wind. As the strange voice drew nearer, Dororo sensed mirth in it.
The voice was laughing? Was it a demon or something?
Dororo shivered. Though brave, he was sensible enough to be afraid of demons. He wished Hyakkimaru were nearby. Maybe he was! If Dororo found him and told him where to find a demon, Hyakkimaru was sure to praise him.
As the roof above them creaked from the force of the wind, Dororo said, “We should get out of here, miss. Is that wind a demon?”
The woman looked surprised. “I... no, it’s not a demon. Behind the house, there’s a waterfall and a shrine that’s sacred to Fudō. There’s a statue of Fudō cut into the cliffs near the waterfall.”
Fudō was a Buddha, but he didn’t have the kind face or happy expression of, say, Amida Buddha. His eyes burned with anger. In his right hand, he carried a sword; in his left hand, he held rope twisted into a noose.
“You must be tired,” the woman said. “Fudō will watch over us here. I’ll make us some dinner. Perhaps you should get some rest?”
Dororo had told this woman of his tragic past, and she’d offered to feed and shelter him. Dororo thought that he’d just made an amazing new friend. The fact that the woman looked so much like his mother put Dororo at ease.
“I’ll stay up for a little while,” Dororo said. “It isn’t time to sleep yet.”
Dororo didn’t feel like he was tired, but when the woman encouraged him to lie down, he started yawning right away, and was soon fast asleep and snoring.
“Forgive me, boy,” the woman said.
The north wind blew in through the window again. “Oh! Oh!”
The woman trembled all over. “I understand, my lord. I’ll bring the child to you at once,” she said.
Translator's Notes
Fudō Myouō (不動明王) corresponds to Acala, a wrathful deity prominent in Vajrayana Buddhism and East Asian Buddhism. Originally a minor deity described as a messenger or acolyte of the buddha Vairocana, Acala later rose to prominence as an object of veneration in his own right as a remover of obstacles and destroyer of evil, eventually becoming seen as the wrathful manifestation of either Vairocana, the buddha Aksobhya, or the bodhisattva Manjushri. In China, he is known as Bùdòng Míngwáng (不動明王, "Immovable Wisdom King"). Acala (as Fudō) is one of the especially important and well-known divinities in Japanese Buddhism.
Amida Buddha (阿弥陀仏) is a celestial Buddha, according to the scriptures of Mahayana Buddhism. Amida is the principal Buddha in Pure Land Buddhism, a branch of East Asian Buddhism. Amida means "Infinite Light." Amida Buddha is likely the most familiar Buddha to westerners, as he is often depicted in gold with a round belly and a beatific smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment