Norton, Andre - Anthology (31 page)

 
          
 
Then a tumult of yowled protests arose.

 
          
 
"Challenge foxes? That's insane!"

 
          
 
"Why risk Inari's wrath? The Daimyo was
neglectful."

 
          
 
"Human legends always make the cat a
villain. Let the dogs do it. Humans like dogs!"

 
          
 
And most often: "Why should we? We're
safe here. Let humans solve human problems!"

 
          
 
"Why?" Okesa answered, "Because
we can! Are you saying that cats are less capable than dogs? Are you afraid of
foxes?"

 
          
 
She arched her back and puffed out her glossy
black tail. Then she spat derisively.

 
          
 
"Cats! Maybe we deserve what they say
about us! If you can't challenge the Fox Spirits to honor the hearthstones on
which you have slept, for the granaries in which you have found easy hunting,
for the bridges from which you have fished r fhen consider this! If Inari
curses the rice crop, there will be no more barn-fat rodents to hunt."

 
          
 
"No more lazy birds," meowed a
startled Momo.

 
          
 
"No more easy plenty," Okesa
pressed.

 
          
 
"There is always enough for cats,"
sneered a glossy, long-bellied tabby.

 
          
 
"Oh?" replied ragged Bushi.
"Oh?"

 
          
 
Okesa whipped her tail back and forth in angry
resolve. She fastened her green-eyed gaze on the gathered cats. No one met her
eyes.

 
          
 
"Stay, then," she said, leaping down
and through the torii. "I'll do it alone if I must!"

 
          
 
As she ran down the dusky tunnel, she became
aware of the muffled pad-pad-pad of cat paws behind her. Her spirits lifted.
Who was her ally? Kynn? Momo? One of those lazy ones who had looked away when
she spoke?

 
          
 
Exiting the tunnel, she darted to one side,
wheeling to see who had followed her. The cat who emerged was a stranger with a
lovely cream-colored coat and white tips.

 
          
 
Okesa was about to greet the stranger when she
saw another cat emerge—golden and sleek—Kynn! Then another, fat and
calico—Momo! Then three more strangers, patterned black and white, barely out
of kittenhood, littermates no doubt. Bringing up the rear of the column came
gray, battered Bushi, still chewing a mouthful of tuna.

 
          
 
Okesa purred her pleasure and, after
introductions all around, led her troop to the cherry orchard. They gathered in
the sunlight on the pink-speckled green, each sitting straight, tails wrapped
politely around their toes. They were very aware that at that moment, they were
the only cats on all the
island
of
Sado
.

 
          
 
"Well, here we are, Okesa-san," said
cream-colored Kekko. "What would you have us do?"

 
          
 
Okesa thought quickly. She had never
considered that she might have this much help.

 
          
 
"There are eight of us," she said
slowly, while her mind whirled through possibilities. "That is an
auspicious number." ,

 
          
 
"Let's jump the Foxes!" offered one
of the catlings. "Pounce them! Shred their kimonos! Then they can't
perform in the play!"

 
          
 
"Oh, Taro," chided his sister.
"That wouldn't do. The Fox Spirits use illusion magic. Even if we ripped
and tore, they would mend up the damage in a moment. Then the Daimyo's samurai
would slay us with their twin swords!"

 
          
 
Taro sulked, "I suppose you have a better
idea?"

 
          
 
"No, but Okesa-sama does. Right,
Okesa-sama?"

 
          
 
Okesa met the gold and green and blue eyes
(these last belonging to Kekko) that studied her. She found this harder to do
now that there were seven pairs, not seventy or seven hundred.

 
          
 
"Of course, kitten-chan," she said,
with more confidence than she felt. "We must enter the competition and
defeat the Foxes on the stage."

 
          
 
Silence greeted her announcement, but Okesa
realized that this was a listening silence, not a challenging silence.
Heartened, she began to explain.

 
          
 
Later that afternoon, the famous geisha
dancer, Okesa, came to the Daimyo's magistrate, the man in charge of organizing
the day's Noh competition. She wore a kimono of plum-colored silk and her long,
ebony hair was piled up in an elaborate coif held in place by pins of jade and
ivory. Her eyes were so dark that they almost seemed the deep green of an old,
old pine. The magistrate was flattered when she bowed deeply to him.

 
          
 
"Magistrate Sakushi-sama," she said,
her voice a husky, throaty purr. "Is it as I have heard, that anyone may
enter a piece for today's competition?"

 
          
 
Magistrate Sakushi bowed, though less deeply,
in return. "Yes, Okesa-san. We have entries from all across Dai
Nippon."

 
          
 
"May a humble one bring an entry to you
as late as even this afternoon?"

 
          
 
Magistrate Sakushi was surprised, but he
nodded, "Is the piece that we are discussing long? You know that today's
performance is for vignettes, not for full dramas."

 
          
 
"My piece is no-longer-than it should
be," Okesa replied.

 
          
 
"Then I will put it on my list," the
magistrate said. Then he added gallantly, "I look forward to seeing what
the famous Okesa has produced."

 
          
 
She smiled demurely and bowed.

 
          
 
"So do I," she answered. "So do
I."

 
          
 
The drums and flutes were warming up, little
grace notes thrilling the ears as the flirtatious breeze spilled cherry
blossoms onto the bright pavilions set up before the palace of Sado's greatest
Daimyo.

 
          
 
"We are last on the list," Okesa
said to her seven allies. "Creep into the theater now and find hiding
places from which you can watch the stage. Noh is very stylized. Each of you
must memorize the gestures for a certain type of role."

 
          
 
The seven cats blinked their comprehension.

 
          
 
"Kekko," Okesa turned to the cream-colored
female, "you will study the ingenue. Kynn, you will be the dashing samurai
lover. Bushi, you will be the forbidding father. He is just a bit of a villain
as well. Can you handle that?"

 
          
 
Bushi purred, a rough, knotty purr, as
tattered as his gray coat.

 
          
 
"Taro, you and your littermates will take
the role of messengers. At the end of the play, two of you will be young
heroes. Divide up the roles as you would, but be certain that you have them all
covered."

 
          
 
"Yes, Okesa-sama," Taro mewed
eagerly.

 
          
 
"What about me?" wailed Momo.

 
          
 
"You will be the jilted lover,"
Okesa said. "It is a role that demands both humor and tragic
sincerity."

 
          
 
"Oh, I can do that!" Momo said,
pawing the air gleefully.

 
          
 
"Now, to your places," Okesa said,
"and I will signal for you before we are to begin."

 
          
 
The Noh festival progressed with elegance and
beauty. Many of the selections were traditional—excerpts from "The Meeting
of Yoshitsune and Benkei on
Gojo
Bridge
" or "The Forty-Seven Ronin."

 
          
 
Masked and robed, the players gestured and
pranced in a fashion that could have been comical, but was not. Okesa found
herself drawn into the old stories. Any cat loves ritual and the Noh drama gave
the stories a timelessness that was undeniably attractive.

 
          
 
In the audience, the daimyos and wealthy
samurai pretended indifference as the troops that they had sponsored performed
their pieces. Okesa wondered which of the politely applauding lords was the
chief of the Foxes, waiting among the humans for his chance at Inari's
vengeance.

 
          
 
Okesa had no doubt when the Fox Spirits came
onto the stage. In some indefinable fashion, they were more elegant than the
performers who had preceded them. The elegance did not merely proceed from
their beautifully carved masks, nor from the exquisite, fluid grace of their
silk kimonos. It was something more intangible. Watching them, Okesa, the
dancer, thought that grace was born in the lifting of their feet.

 
          
 
They had chosen a familiar legend for their
theme, the story of the rash Tokutaro and how he was tricked by the wily foxes
who shaved his head as the final indignity of a night of illusion and madness.

 
          
 
Their performance was perfect, evoking both
tears and laughter. The Daimyo patted his hands in applause and was heard
saying to one of the samurai who sat near him, ''Poignant, humorous, and
instructive. Very finely presented. I believe that it is a far better piece
than any of these dry, traditional choices we have seen."

 
          
 
The next group, who were performing from
"Yoshit-sune at
Gojo
Bridge
," were quite disheartened and left the
stage early.

 
          
 
At last, Okesa saw that her troop would be
next. She gestured for them and the seven cats met her in the small pavilion
provided for waiting actors. It was empty now, all the performers gone into the
audience to watch the other acts.

 
          
 
"When we are called," Okesa said,
bending to stroke each cat, "I will go and announce us. Remember your cues
and remember, too, that the Foxes may give us trouble."

 
          
 
The seven cats blinked calmly. Little Taro
mewed and chased his own tail in excitement. Kynn stood on his hind legs and
bumped Okesa's hand reassuringly. Then Magistrate Sakushi was announcing her.

 
          
 
Okesa walked onto the stage. She was not the
only woman who had patronized a performing troop, nor was she the only one who
had written her own script. Indeed, some of the most famous writers in Dai
Nippon were women. However, she was the only one to mount the stage that day
and her appearance raised some muttering.

 
          
 
"That's Okesa, the famous dancer."
'That's Okesa. They say she's lithe as a cat." "That's Okesa. No one
knows where she came from . . ." "That's Okesa. My brother bought an
hour of her time