My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me (72 page)

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Authors: KATE BERNHEIMER

BOOK: My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me
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When I look around, I see footprints in the sand, handprints in the sand, what are those? in them, I see the outlines of five toes and even the swirls of the prints of the individual toes, they’re the size of an adult’s feet—no, wait, here and there among the big prints are a couple of prints from a child’s foot, but there are only one or two of them, maybe those prints are Anjuhimeko’s, I see the patterns of fingers, several strands of hair, dried bloodstains, wet patches, many, many bodies of all different sorts, which of them belongs to her? I can’t say, does that handprint belong to her? could that footprint be hers? what about that fingerprint? is that strand of hair one of hers? when she was buried, the last thing I saw was her ear, a big, big, big ear, I could see the sand pouring into it so I took the hollow stalk of a reed and stuck it in the hole in her ear, and that was the last I saw of her, the hole was all filled in.
Will my husband change his mind and come get me? what if he doesn’t? I don’t know, meanwhile, it seems as if I can hear the cries of the buried babies emerging here and there from the sandy patch of land, I don’t know, I feel what seems like the weight of a baby or something on my shoulders and on my back, it’s on my hands and arms, I feel as if I’m touching the children’s corpses, will my husband come or not? the stench of the babies reaches me every time the wind blows, I feel like the stench is accusing me every time the wind blows, if I’d known how things would work out, I would’ve gotten rid of the baby a long time ago when I was pregnant, that’s what I keep thinking to myself, but I didn’t and so that’s why these horrible things are happening to me, will my husband come or not? will he or won’t he? maybe he will and maybe he won’t, maybe he won’t, as I think these things to myself, the children accuse me and I feel their reproaches sink deep into my skin.
And then I think that even if one was buried, two of my babies still remain, people keep telling me I should give up on her, I should give up on her, but even if I’ve given up on my buried baby, I still can’t give up on the husband who threw me out, buried here in the sand, all I can think about is whether or not he’ll suddenly change his mind and come take me away, that’s the only thing on my mind, dead child, go ahead and die, die, don’t look back, I want to live.
Then go ahead and get out of the sand, you can’t really do anything, you should go and chase sparrows out of the millet fields for a living, that’s what people tell me so that’s what I do, I climb out of the sand, and here I am.
No matter where I go, the sun beats down on me, the rain has stopped so the sun beats down, I keep walking, and with each passing minute the burning sun roasts me a little more, I keep walking, just a look and you can see how burned I am, as I walk, the steam rises from my burned body yet I keep walking the country roads, this is the fate that has befallen me, I cry out, excuse me please, excuse me, and in response, a master of a nearby house emerges, without saying anything, I clasp my hands, begin weeping, and explain I can chase the sparrows from his millet fields, he asks me why I’ve come, I tell him my baby was buried alive in the sand by my husband, my breasts were swollen, I missed my buried baby, I wept so much I went blind, my husband threw me out when I went blind, I could feel the buried children reproaching me when I tried burying myself in the sand, and that was more than I could bear, but then someone came and told me to chase sparrows so I came here intending to do just that.
He says my story is a heart-wrenching one, and so he’ll hire me, I can work for him chasing sparrows, perhaps then my spirits might lift a little, that’s what he says to me, and so from that day forth, I have chased the sparrows from his millet fields Tsusōmaru, my son, how I miss you!—hoy! hoy!—Anjuhimeko, my daughter, how I miss you! As I chase the sparrows with my cries—hoy! hoy!—the little children surround me and stick their fingers in my face saying, Auntie! here’s your Anjuhimeko! Auntie! I’m your Tsusōmaru, I’m blind so they tease me in unspeakable ways, I’m miserable, and still the children tease me in unspeakable ways.
 
Stories go fast in the telling, three years later, my father says, it’s the third anniversary of the day I buried Anjuhimeko, why don’t I try digging her up to see if she’s dead or alive?
And when he digs me up, here I am, I’m not dead, I haven’t dried up, I just warmed myself in the sand, a growing, a laughing, living body.
Mother stuck the hollow stalk of a reed in the hole in my ear to mark where I was, so morning and night, I would suck the dew through the tiny, tiny, tiny hole in the stalk, and so I grew, a laughing, living body.
That’s right, they dig me up and here I am, I’m not dead, I haven’t dried up, I just warmed myself in the sand, a growing, laughing, living body, mother stuck a stalk in the hole in my ear to mark me, morning and night I would suck the dew through the tiny, tiny, tiny hole, and here I am, a growing, laughing, living body, a growing, laughing living body, a growing, laughing, living body, that is what I am, that is who I am!
RESURRECTION
Father says, it is outrageous that this child was buried three years and didn’t die, this won’t do, let’s send her into exile on another island, he gazes across the sea and sees a boat out where the water is deep, he says, I’m going to put you on that boat and send you away, but you’re still my own child so I’ll call out to Amida Buddha once before I send you away, and as he is calling out to Amida Buddha, the boat disappears off the far edge of the sea, he says, since the boat has disappeared, I’ll put you on a boat of mud or planks and get rid of you, with this, he puts me on a nearby raft, and I’m sent into exile adrift on the water, thank goodness the wind and the tides send me in a good direction, I pray three times, oh raft, here I am, send me home, send me home, send me home just as I am! with me on it, just as I am, the raft smashes into my house, the raft smashes into my father, and as it smashes into him, he says, this is a strange raft, with the waves so high it should be all wet, with the wreck it should be damaged, but without getting wet or getting damaged the raft has come back all the way to the house, what a strange raft, she is probably on it somewhere, what a strange raft, he looks everywhere to see if I, Anjuhimeko, am on it somewhere, but I’m not there for him to see, I’ve climbed ashore already, after tearing off the silk undergarments in which my mother wrapped me, I make my way into the grassy fields and woods, I have no destination in mind, I just make my way deep into the forest, there the ivy is all tangled, and it is like dusk even in the middle of day, I have no destination, I have no home, I hear the faint, faint, faint sound of a drum and samisen, I wonder if these sounds are made by human beings, I hurry to the spot, and there I see a man who is pounding on a drum and plucking the strings of a samisen, he is in the middle of a performance of sacred music and dance, he asks why I’m here so I answer, when I explain to him all that has befallen me, the man tells me to come with him and he’ll hire me, that’s how I decide to get a job, he says he’ll give me pleasant thoughts, he’ll raise me well, that’s how I decide to get a job even though I don’t know the first thing about the man.
When I get a job from the man about whom I know nothing, for two or three days he pampers me with sweet talk, calling me his butterfly and his flower, but when ten days go by, he torments me, saying, Anjuhimeko, go pound the millet, go pound the rice, here I am, three years old, I can’t possibly hold a pestle with this little body of mine, so he hangs me upside down over a pile of burning cattails and he begins roasting me, I’m helpless, I just keep roasting, there is nothing I can do but hang there and roast, do men always say such unreasonable things?
Just as I’m wondering what he’s going to say next, he torments me, telling me there are pebbles scattered all over the field in front of me, he tells me to pick them all up before the sun sets, I hurry as much as I can to pick up the pebbles, but mine are the fingers of a three-year-old, the skin on all ten finger pads wears thin, and red blood begins to trickle out, there is no way I can finish so he ends up hanging me upside down and roasting me with the cattails, that’s why even now the sight of a cattail makes me sick.
Just as I’m wondering what he’s going to say next, the man saunters over nonchalantly and torments me, telling me I need to go break apart the stones on the mountain in the distance, he tells me to dig up the dirt and haul it here, he tells me to haul seven cauldrons’ worth in seven days, here I am, three years old, if I try breaking apart the stones, digging the dirt and hauling it here, wouldn’t I be crushed under all its weight? do men always say such unreasonable things? I hate this man who says such unreasonable things, but if after he says these unreasonable things he roasts me over the cattails and I lose my life, then I don’t know what the purpose of having survived all this time will have been, in the end, I don’t go to sleep, instead I break apart the stones, dig up the dirt, and haul seven full cauldrons’ worth in seven days, that’s what I did, I showed them, and here I am.
Just as I’m wondering what he’s going to say next, the man saunters over nonchalantly and torments me, telling me I need to scoop up some water, just as I’m wondering what he’s going to give me to do it with, he hands me a bamboo basket, I look at it and see there are holes in it so big that fish, big and little ones, could slip right through, as I stare at it wondering how on earth to keep water in it, tears well up in my eyes, the tears well up as fast as I wipe them away, I go to the riverbank as I weep, and there the water flows steadily along, I don’t know how deep it is, I look and see myself reflected once, twice upon the water, there I am, if I had a regular life I could live to be more than a hundred years old, but can I make it that far? what would my mother, who wrapped me in silk underclothes and stuck a stalk in the hole in my ear, think if she knew about this? but there’s no way I can scoop up water in a bamboo basket with holes, maybe if I ask the spirit-child who lives in this abundant river that flows along so steadily, he might give me divine aid and help me scoop up the water, so here I am standing on the railing on the bridge and praying, oh, Spirit-Child of the River! I want to scoop up the water from this river but I can’t, I want to but I can’t, I want to but I can’t, when I stand up straight and intone this three times with tears falling, an oil vendor comes from the far side of the bridge.
Is this child weeping because she can’t scoop up water? look, I’ll give you this oil paper, paste it on your basket then scoop up the water, with this the oil vendor takes a piece of oiled paper in his big hands and gives it to me, when I paste it on my basket, I scoop up the water and my task is complete.
Now, just as I’m wondering what he’s going to say next, the man saunters nonchalantly over and torments me again, telling me to use my fingernails to cut down ten reeds and bring them to him, how can my fingernails possibly cut down reeds? my fingernails are the thin, thin nails of a three-year-old child, thinner than even the reeds, they are soft, soft, so very soft, but if I don’t cut them I’ll get roasted again in the cattails, do men always say such unreasonable things? tears well up at the question, but then a man in black comes toward me, he says, is this child weeping because she can’t cut down reeds? with this, he takes out a knife, the knife the man in black has shines in the sun, the blade is big, and it cuts down ten reeds right before my very eyes, how terribly grateful I am!
Then the man saunters nonchalantly over and torments me, telling me, Anjuhimeko, suck on this, so I suck on it hating it the whole time, next he torments me, telling me to hold it in my mouth, I think how much I hate this, but I think how awful it is to be roasted by cattails so I hold it in my mouth hating it the whole time, next he torments me, telling me, Anjuhimeko, put this down there, here I am, a three-year-old child, if I put that thing down there my body will split wide open and that’ll be the end of me, I beg him with tears, no, not that, anything but that, but the man makes scary faces at me, it’ll be the cattails for me, the cattails for me, do men always say such unreasonable things? I don’t want to be broiled over the cattails anymore, even if I die I’ll be none the worse for it, so I stick that thing down there, to my surprise it isn’t all that I thought it would be, but I do feel like my guts are being all stirred up and popping out, I pick up my guts one by one and put them back into my body, my guts and my flesh spring out and slide around so it is really hard to put them back in, however I am happy because my guts are such pretty colors, I’m happy because they are bright blue and bright red, colors that really wake you up.
Next he lights fires under the seven cauldrons, then torments me again, telling me, now Anjuhimeko, I’ve taken the water you scooped up and poured it over the cauldrons of soil you dug and lit fires underneath with the reeds you cut, now walk over here with no clothes and no shoes, the cauldrons are boiling hot and making bubbling noises, I stand on the edge, do men always keep saying such unreasonable things one after another? I cry out loudly, here I’m in tears when a sparrow comes flying by, the man is looking the other way when it chirps to me, now is the time to run, oh Anjuhimeko, three years old, now is the time to run, so with no clothes and no shoes, I escape following the sparrow, finally, I arrive at an unfamiliar house standing in the middle of a field.
Excuse me, excuse me, I call out, and a man comes from deep inside the house, he asks me, where’ve you come from with no clothes and no shoes? just looking at you, I can see you’re still only a child of three years old, I want to give you shelter, but if that man chases you here then he’ll torment me, too, he’ll broil me with cattails and kill me too, please, get out of here quickly, when I go outside, the day is rapidly drawing to a close, a heavy rain is beginning to fall, what shall I do? the man is chasing after me, if he catches me this time I really will die, what shall I do? then I hear a voice saying, little girl, little girl, come back, there’s no doubt the voice is calling me, it is a man’s voice, I return along the path and dash into the unfamiliar house in the middle of the field.

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