My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me (73 page)

BOOK: My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me
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Little girl, little girl, you’ve come back? here, quick, have some rice to eat, then get into this bag and I’ll hang you from the rafters, you’ve come to me asking for help because of some karmic connection, I’ve decided to save you no matter how much he torments me or roasts me with cattails, here, quick, have some rice to eat, then get into the bag, once you’re in the bag hanging from the rafters, you mustn’t scratch your ears or even break wind, and with this he picks me up and the bag, too, he is so powerful, so stalwart, so strong, the man who was chasing me arrives at the house, he reproaches the man in the house, asking if Anjuhimeko hasn’t come here, Anjuhimeko who is three years old, every time I tell her to do something, she plays tricks on me like a good-for-nothing and slips away, she’s a cunning little brat, there’s no place other than here for her to go, look, that bag hanging over there just swung a little, get it down and show me what’s inside.
I’m resigned that once I’m down, I’m going to die, I’m resigned that both I and the man who has given me shelter will die, roasted over cattails, but the man who has given me shelter says to the man who was chasing me, I’ll lower the bag if you repent for what you’ve done, then the man who was chasing me says, I’ll cut it down with a saw, then the man who has given me shelter scoops some water into a basin and shoves it in front of the man who was chasing me, when he saw his reflection in the water, his mouth was ripped open so wide his lips extended to the back of his neck and his teeth jutted out in every direction, the man who’d given me shelter jeered at him, saying, so you’re really a demon at heart? repent, repent, we don’t need any demons here, repent, repent, no demons here, repent, repent, and finally, the man who was chasing me disappears, he is gone, nowhere to be seen.
THE TRAVELING CHILD
Here I am, clad in dyed-black clothes, indigo leggings, cotton
tabi
and belt of straw, ready to set out to see my mother, but nowhere do I see the woman called mother, I travel around these sixty-some provinces to find her, but nowhere do I see the woman whom I call mother, I sleep in both fields and mountains, I sleep upon my folding fan as a pillow, and I use my straw hat as a screen to stop the wind, the rain falls on me, the wind blows at me, dogs bark and bite at me, I’m afraid of the laughter of the crows and the loud rustling of the trees so I cover my ears and run past, but I don’t see my mother anywhere, my mother was the one who gave birth to me so long ago, but she has disappeared, and I can’t find her anywhere, still her child has grown up like this even without a mother, her child has grown even though she didn’t suckle at her mother’s breast, I wish my mother would just die prematurely, die and show me her body just as it is, that way I wouldn’t have to go see her, but since that doesn’t happen, she must be living somewhere, and so I have to go see her.
I’m seven years old, and it is spring, around the month of April, I walk on and on, the days grow dark and draw to a close, I make my way into mountains so deep that one can’t tell forward from backward, I want to stay in an inn but there are no villages, finally, as the day is drawing to a close, I look and see a hut of grassy bamboo in the distance, there is a light, I try to go there in search of lodgings, but I can’t get there, in front of the hut is a big river, I look both upstream and downstream, but there is no bridge, I’ve come this far but I can’t cross, I can’t cross, how sad I am! I try to pray to the spirit-child of this rapidly flowing river, thinking that perhaps his divine grace will help me cross, oh, Spirit-Child of the River! I want to cross this river but can’t, I want to cross but can’t, I want to cross but can’t, I intone this request three times, and then a dead tree falls down all by itself, then a second dead tree falls down all by itself, and then a third dead tree falls down all by itself, forming a bridge over the river, how terribly grateful I am, this is all thanks to the divine child of the river!
Excuse me, excuse me, I call out, going into the bamboo hut, and there is a young woman, her voice makes her sound so young, she invites me in, and with this I’m let into the hut, finally, after something to eat, I heave a big sigh, thinking I’ll try having a conversation about this and that with the young woman, and so I ask her, young lady, have you been blind since birth?
She says, oh child, you ask questions without any reserve, how could anyone possibly have karma as bad as mine? I’ve not been blind since birth, in only three years I gave birth to three children, but my husband buried in the sand one of the babies I’d gone to all the trouble to bear, the milk welled up in my breast, my breasts swelled, and because I missed the child buried in the sand so much, I wept until my eyes went bad, when I went blind, my husband sent me away, I tried burying myself in the sand because I wanted to die, but as I was looking at the traces of the children buried there in the sand, I thought I would try living by chasing away sparrows so I crawled out of the sand, now here I am chasing away sparrows by crying out, Tsusōmaru, my beloved son, how I miss you!—hoy! hoy!—Anjuhimeko, my daughter, how I miss you!—hoy! hoy!
I am Anjuhimeko, mother! I am Anjuhimeko, and I’m alive, I’m here in this world!
Astonished, mother says, how could my Anjuhimeko have come here? the dead shouldn’t come back, some kind of changeling must’ve come to me from some mysterious place this evening, no, my Anjuhimeko has a large mole on her right ankle and a red birthmark on her left shoulder, this year would have been her seventh year, every day I light my lantern and pray for her, there’s no way she would appear here lost, mother says this through tears of astonishment.
Hearing this much, I know we are mother and child, but if she can’t see, then she can’t see I have a mole, she can’t see I have a birthmark, the tears well up in my eyes as I think nothing could be more terrible than this, but then I hear her asking me to rub her right eye, so I do as she asks and rub her right eye, as her eye rubs against the palm of my hand, discharge and tears spill forth, and her eye suddenly pops open, mother! I am Anjuhimeko, and I’m alive, I’m here in this world!
Mother and I weep and laugh all night, our reunion lasts all night.
Ten days later, I ask mother for some time alone because I want to visit my father, Anjuhimeko! you say such foolish things, where is the man called father? what fatherly thing has he ever done for you? if your father was really your father, why would he put you in the sand, Anjuhimeko? why would he hate you so much he’d cast you out to sea, he bids you to complete unreasonable and difficult hardships, he has roasted you with cattails and made you suffer every kind of cruelty imaginable.
That isn’t true, mother! I’m here in this world because I have my father, if I had no father I would never have been buried in the sand but I also never would have been able to emerge again, if I had no father, I never would have been cast to sea but I also never would have been able to return to land again, if I had no father, I never would have undergone such unreasonable and difficult hardships but I also never would have been able to scoop up water in a bamboo basket full of holes or cut down ten reeds, if I had no father, I wouldn’t have been hung from the rafters but I never would have been here doing the things I’m doing now, that is why I have to go see father, I want to go see him, I want to go see him, I want to go see him, I say this like it was the greatest dream in my whole life.
I don’t remember the man called father, there was a man out there who had the face of a demon and who ran off, he was definitely my father, but the only thing I remember about him is his demonic face, there was a man who chased off the father with the face of the demon for me, he was definitely my father, too, but the only thing I remember about him is that he had such strong arms when he hung me from the rafters, that’s all, there was a man who took out a knife and cut down some reeds for me, he was definitely my father, too, but the only thing I remember about him is that his shiny knife was so sharp, that’s all, there was a man who gave me a piece of oil paper when I was on the riverbank looking bewildered, I only remember how big his hands were but he was definitely my father, too, but that’s all I remember.
Mother, what you say is right, my father buried me in sand, he dug me out and set me adrift on the sea, then he tormented me by telling me to pound the millet and pound the rice and dig up dirt and scoop up water, he turned me upside down and roasted me with cattails, there are many scars left on my body, there are many scars left on my body, my skin got burned when he roasted me, I got calluses when I picked up pebbles and the calluses split and broke and blood ran forth, my fingers got broken when I broke the stones apart, how many trembling fingers did I have that were held together by nothing but a single thin layer of skin? surely the man they call my father is nowhere to be found.
Getting roasted, getting beaten, getting killed, getting stuck through the genitals—these things are all the same to me, but the father who is really called father believed I was happy with him sticking himself through my genitals, that is a grave mistake, however, even though I understand that, I have to believe that my father did it because he loved me, because he loved me, because he loved me, I have to believe that even if I was roasted with cattails, even if I underwent such unreasonable and difficult hardships, even if I was chased around with him wearing his demonic face, even if he did stick himself through my genitals, I have to believe that all this happened because father loved me, if even terrible things and painful things befall me, I’ll quickly forget them, I believe it’s all because father loves me.
With a face stained by tears, mother says, this is what they are talking about when they say parting is like a live tree splitting apart, this is the child for whom my womb ached, the child to whom I gave birth, the child who fattened while suckling at my breast, the child whose dirty bottom I would lick clean, the child who flustered me so much as I held her trying to comfort her tears, the child whose sleeping face I would gaze at untiringly all day and all night, my mother said these things as she pulled out her shriveled breasts, this is what they are talking about when they say parting is like a live tree splitting apart, the live tree that split when you were buried in the sand is once again splitting, but blood will pour out instead of sap.
Not necessarily, mother! I’ll cut off the little finger of my right hand and leave it for you, no matter how many years it takes me before I return, all you have to do is lick it and you won’t go hungry, you’ll be fine even without chasing the sparrows away, please live here in comfort as you grow old, please wait until I return, for the first time my mother gives me a smile, if you cut off your little finger, it’ll hurt, but I say, look mother! it doesn’t hurt, it’s just a little blood coming out, just blood coming out, just blood trickling out, and blood that trickles will stop soon.
And so at last, here I am, clad in dyed-black clothes, indigo leggings, cotton
tabi
, ready to set out to see my father, I meet many different kinds of fathers during my search for my father, I meet fathers with whiskers and fathers without whiskers, the smell of fathers exudes from their pores, I meet fathers with stuffed-up noses and fathers without stuffed-up noses, I meet fathers with bald heads and fathers with full heads of hair, I meet fathers as skinny as bags of bones and fathers so big they jiggle with fat, fathers covered with freckles, fathers covered with body hair, fathers with small hands, fathers with big hands, fathers with bent fingers, fathers with straight fingers, I meet fathers with skin diseases and fathers without skin diseases, one father has eczema that has turned into wet and running sores, one father who is seated under the scattering cherry blossoms has a body colored brilliant hues of red and blue, one father in front of the chrysanthemums who has a body colored gold and silver, one father who is so short I could crush him underfoot, one father who has hair so long it hangs all the way to his hips and he has to untangle it constantly with a comb, one father who has strong underarm odor, I put my head under his arm and take a deep, deep, deep breath, where was it that I met that father?
I AM ANJUHIMEKO
I am Anjuhimeko, I am Anjuhimeko, the girl who was sexually molested by her father but who still grew up, I’m that wretched girl Anjuhimeko whose father tried to kill her, I am Anjuhimeko, the girl whose was sexually molested by, almost killed by, and now abandoned by her father, I’m that wretched, wretched, wretched girl Anjuhimeko who once died, that’s who I am, I try to run away but my father appears to me in many different forms and tries to kill me, and it’s such a hardship every time he does.
It’s such a hardship every time he does, will I survive this time? no, I won’t survive this time, will I? I’ve thought this so many, many, many times, when I think I won’t survive, I hold my hand into the sky and I stare hard at it, I stare hard, so hard at it, with my hand in the air I can see right through it, each time I think this time I might not make it, I can see right through my hand, I feel like I can see the bones, the blood vessels, the flow of blood, and even the fate that will carry me to my death, it’s such a hardship.
It’s always such a hardship.
I am Anjuhimeko, I am Anjuhimeko who was unable to survive and who died as a result, I have to bring Anjuhimeko back to life again, I’m Anjuhimeko, the one who died thinking I must bring Anjuhimeko back to life and take her to Tennoji, or maybe if I can just take her to Tennoji then I, Anjuhimeko who is dead, will be able to come back to life, I’ll take myself to Tennoji, that’s a good idea, but I don’t have any idea what Tennoji is or where I could possibly find it, that child will help me out, I should go see the child and ask, the child will surely know what Tennoji is and where I could find it, I’ll know if I meet the child, I’ll know all about Tennoji, that’s all I can think of, the child is all that I can think of, is there any way other than asking the child? I don’t know, asking the child is all that I can think of, maybe I’ll never meet the child again, but that’s all that I can think of.
BOOK: My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me
11.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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