Norton, Andre - Anthology (32 page)

 
          
 
Bowing, she began. "Such is the beauty of
Noh that words are hardly necessary to carry the story. I present for your
honored assessment the tale of Ninigi and the Blossom Princess, performed by an
unusual troop of actors . . ."

 
          
 
She stepped to the side. "Long ago,
Amaterasu's grandson, Ninigi fell in love with Ko-no-hana, the Blossom Princess
. . ."

 
          
 
From the front left of the stage entered Kynn.
The big, golden torn swaggered as he walked. His tail was held high: one could
almost see the samurai's twin swords on his hip. He strutted across the stage
to Kekko, who had slipped in on the right and taken up a perch on a bit of
stone.

 
          
 
She demurely washed her ears with her paw.
When Kynn swaggered over to her, she coyly shielded her face with a flip of her
tail. One could almost see the fan she opened to hide her face.

 
          
 
Enchanted, the audience murmured in wonder as
the two cats mimed a decorous courtship.

 
          
 
"But though Ninigi and the Blossom
Princess had fallen in love," Okesa said, "their way was not to be
easy. Oho-yama, the girl's father, had an elder daughter he wished to have
married. He could not force Amaterasu's beloved grandson to love her, but he
could offer him a choice."

 
          
 
Bushi sauntered out, Momo at his heels. If
Kynn had seemed the dashing young warrior touched by his grandmother sun. Bushi
was the grizzled old veteran, gray and rough as a mountain crag. Kynn faced him
and then Momo pranced forward.

 
          
 
Poor Momo was as round as her namesake, the
peach. She was round where Kekko was slender, clownish where Kekko was grave
and serene. Even those who did not know the ancient legend could see how Ninigi
must choose.

 
          
 
Kynn inspected both of his potential brides.
When he looked away, the "sisters" lowered their "fans" and
spat at each other. Then they retired to stations across the stage and Kynn moved
down front. Bushi stalked after him.

 
          
 
"Oho-yama told Ninigi that his elder
daughter, who was named Iha-naga, Princess Long-as-the-Rocks, had name
magic," Okesa continued, "and that if Ninigi chose wisely,
Amaterasu's beloved grandson would benefit from that magic. Messengers flew
between Ninigi and Oho-yama's two daughters."

 
          
 
Bushi retired to the center of the triangle
formed by Kynn, Momo, and Kekko. Taro sprang out now and dashed across the
stage to Kekko. Touching whiskers with him, she "handed" him her
message. Taro's sister mimed the same routine with Momo, while the third
catling took a message from Kynn to Kekko.

 
          
 
For several delightful moments, the stage was
a whirl of cats going from one to another and darting back again. It was as
carefully patterned as a ballet and twice as beautiful.

 
          
 
At last, the messengers vanished and Kynn
shook himself, licked a paw across his ear, and put up his tail in resolution.
Then he advanced on Bushi.

 
          
 
"Ninigi had weighed the sorcery of
Iha-naga against the magic of love," Okesa narrated. "He had weighed
and sorcery had lost. He told Oho-yama of his choice and the old man agreed to
permit him to wed Princess Ko-no-hana. Princess Iha-naga was furious ..."

 
          
 
Momo bushed up. her tail ^nd arched her back.
Nothing about her was coniical rfow—indeed, her size made her fearsome. She
spat at Kynn. He pressed protectively against Kekko, who crouched, ears folded
back, in fear. As Momo stalked up to the lovers, Okesa hoped that the chubby
calico had not forgotten that this was a play.

 
          
 
"Princess Iha-naga cursed Ninigi saying,
'Had you chosen me, our children and our children's children would have lived
as long as the rocks. Now their lives will be as brief as the blossoms in the
Spring.’ Then the angry princess departed, escorted by her father."

 
          
 
Momo did leave with Bushi and Okesa allowed
herself a small sigh of relief. At center stage, Kekko and Kynn were grooming
each other.

 
          
 
Okesa smiled and went on, "Princess
Iha-naga's prophesy came true, for life is brief and fragile. But from the
union of Princess Ko-no-hana and Ninigi came many good things, including the
famous heroes some call Fire Flash and Fire Fade."

 
          
 
Taro and his sister dashed onto the stage
striking heroic poses, tails high and ears alert. Taro almost ruined the effect
by bouncing in excitement—almost.

 
          
 
Okesa folded her hands into her sleeves and
bowed to indicate her piece was completed. The four cats still on stage also
bowed. Then, in neat file, they followed Okesa off the stage.

 
          
 
The hubbub that politeness had kept in check
during the performance now broke out.

 
          
 
"Enchanting! Marvelous!" the Daimyo
exclaimed.

 
          
 
"But very untraditional," said the
Magistrate.

 
          
 
"Surely it cannot win the prize,"
protested another lord, and, instinctively, Okesa knew that this was one of the
Foxes. "That woman knows what it is to walk at the Hour of the Ox, the
hour when black magic is done!"

 
          
 
"And perhaps you know what it is to walk
at the Hour of the Fox!" Okesa cried.

 
          
 
She signaled to her troop. Kynn and Bushi
sprang at the lord's silk kimono. Leaping as one, they ripped a large hole in
the back and, before illusion could mend it, all saw the Fox Spirit's bushy,
red tail.

 
          
 
"Tails are hard to transform, are they
not!" Okesa taunted, glad that her tail was enchanted away with the rest
of her cat-self. She'd been careful. A geisha could not have a black, furry
tail.

 
          
 
Taro and his littermates had impulsively
pounced upon the lead actor of the Fox troop. His kimono also tore, revealing
his silvery-gray bushy tail.

 
          
 
"Fox Spirits!" The Daimyo's eyes
grew wide. "Here! Buddha smile on us! Hachiman protect us!"

 
          
 
"You always call on the gods when you
need them," the red-tailed lord said cryptically. "We are revealed,
but we do not forget. Remember our play!"

 
          
 
And then, they all vanished, even to the
shreds of silk in the cat's paws. All that remained was a hot, pervasive stink
of fox.

 
          
 
The Daimyo shouted orders to his guards. There
was chaos for several moments and when it stilled, the Fox Spirits were still
vanished and Okesa and her cats still stood before the Daimyo. He turned from
consultation with the Magistrate.

 
          
 
"I cannot give you the prize/' he said,
somewhat sadly, "for your drama was not precisely Noh. But, stay, I have
something to reward you with, nonetheless."

 
          
 
He rose and walked to the stage. "The
prize for today's festival will go to Yoshitoshi of Honshu's troop, for its
rendition of the Death of Kotsuke from the "Forty-seven Ronin."

 
          
 
There was polite applause, and Yoshitoshi rose
and accepted his prize.

 
          
 
"To you, Okesa-san," continued the
Daimyo, "I will give an amount of money equal to the prizes. This is not
for your drama, but for uncovering this plot against me. And ..."

 
          
 
Silence fell as he raised his hand and
declaimed, "And I will grant you any one boon for yourself."

 
          
 
Okesa bent her head and bowed deeply, hiding
her smile. The Daimyo's enthusiasm was precisely what the Foxes must have been
planning to use against him. No doubt, their boon would have either
impoverished or humiliated the Daimyo. Perhaps both.

 
          
 
"What do you desire, Okesa-san?" the
Daimyo prompted.

 
          
 
Okesa thought. Her heart's wish was wealth
enough to make her humans secure and honored. If they were secure, then she
could give up her distasteful role as a geisha. However, to ask for such would
be both impolitic and unwise. Her humans would refuse charity—if they would
accept such, they would not be in their current state, for they had friends
from the days the man had been a samurai.

 
          
 
And the Foxes would surely come for revenge if
she did not do her best to forestall them.

 
          
 
Pushing away her heart's desire, Okesa said,
"Oh, great Daimyo, take the contents of your largest granary and use them
for a month-long festival to Inari, the God of Rice. This is the only boon I
request of you."

 
          
 
The Daimyo started. Clearly he had been
prepared for anything from a request for jewels to one for some economic
monopoly. This humble, religious request surprised him.

 
          
 
"You want nothing for yourself?"

 
          
 
"The festival to Inari will be plenty,
great Daimyo," Okesa said, and the seven cats purred loudly, pleased by
her cleverness.

 
          
 
"Such self-effacing character!" the
Daimyo said. "I will grant your boon. In addition, I will grant you a
crest of your own: three cat's paws in a circle. Report to me on the final day
of Inarrs festival to receive the honor."

 
          
 
Okesa bowed, "Much thanks, Daimyo."

 
          
 
Late that night. Okesa was home in her basket
by the fire. She had enlisted Bushi to help her carry the prize money home.
Together, they had buried it in a shallow hole near where the old ronin had
stopped turning over his garden patch when darkness fell that night. In the
morning, he would have a great surprise.

 
          
 
Now she lay, listening to the crackling of the
coals, reflecting over the day. Kynn and Kekko had clearly confused drama and
reality. When last she had seen them, they had been wandering off into the
shrub together. Momo and the catlings had returned to their homes.

 
          
 
Bushi slept sprawled on the hearthstone
itself, his side rising and falling. Deeply as he was asleep, like her, he was
on his feet when the scratching came at the door.

 
          
 
"It is the Hour of the Fox, Okesa,"
came a familiar voice. "Come out—or we will come in!"

 
          
 
Okesa rose and stretched and leaped out a
window onto the bare earth outside. Bushi thumped down beside her. Together,
they walked to where the dark shadows of several large Foxes bulked against the
night.

 
          
 
"I am here,” Okesa said.

 
          
 
"And I," said Bushi, and his tail
lashed in warning.

 
          
 
"Dread not, oh, well-named warrior,” said
the largest of the Foxes. "We have come to honor Okesa, not to harm
her."

 
          
 
"Inari so commands," whispered the
other Foxes in chorus.