Norton, Andre - Anthology (33 page)

 
          
 
Okesa flicked back an ear in surprise.
"Honor me?"

 
          
 
"Today you not only saved your Daimyo
from our wrath, but brought Inari his lost honors." The red fox chuckled.
"And you saved face for us as well. We know that you gave up your heart's
desire to gain Inari his due. He commands that we grant it to you now. What do
you wish?"

 
          
 
"I wish to be no more than what I am—a
little, black cat," Okesa answered, "but my humans are so poor that
they only eat millet and weeds. The garden they lavish care upon grows only
stones and shriveled parodies of vegetables. When I was a kitten, my eyes
barely open, they saved me from drowning. Seeing their poverty, I decided that
I owed them a debt.

 
          
 
"I prayed to Amaterasu to give me the
means to help them from their poverty. She granted me a human form, a lovely,
graceful form, and with it I can earn them money or sometimes favors, such as
convincing the tax collector to skip them in his rounds. But I am weary of
human ways. I want only to be a cat, but until I honorably discharge my promise
to Amaterasu and to my humans, I will not be happy only as a cat."

 
          
 
"The old man and the old woman will not
take charity," Bushi growled in the tones of one who has gone hungry from
pride. "Make their fields fertile, plant them with rice, and with "of
Shards of cherry and peach and plum. These humans will never forget to honor
Inari— nor any of the gods."

 
          
 
"They never have," the red fox said
softly. "All will be made as you have requested."

 
          
 
And with that, they vanished into the
darkness, leaving only the hot stink of fox.

 
          
 
Over that spring, fertility came in force to
the poor ronin's farm. Each day, new crops sprouted. A rice marsh formed after
a heavy rain. Ancient trees bore flowers for the first time in years, and the
flowers set plentiful fruit.

 
          
 
After each day of good food and rewarding
labor, the old ronin felt younger. His back straightened, his hair darkened,
and his vision grew clear and sharp. His aged wife became round-bodied and
rosy-cheeked again. They accepted the miracle with prayerful gratitude.

 
          
 
On the day that Okesa the geisha was to
receive a crest from the Daimyo's own hands, the old ronin, who was no longer
so old, rose early. With his wife's help, he dressed in the new, best kimono he
had purchased with money he had found in his vegetable patch. Carefully, he
thrust his katana and wakizashi into his sash and, bearing a letter he had
found on his doorstep the night before, he walked to the town.

 
          
 
The buildings and even the trees were brightly
decorated for the climax of the month-long festival to Inari. Looking into the
shops, the ronin promised himself he would buy his wife many gifts—a new tea
set, a robe of rose silk, an embroidered sash, a biwa for her to play. . . .

 
          
 
His revery was broken when three black and
white cats, almost identical and still young, dashed in front of him, chased by
a laughing toddler. They reminded him of his errand and he hurried until he
reached the Daimyo's palace.

 
          
 
Six words opened every gate for him: "I
bring a message from Okesa."

 
          
 
Excitement followed his steady footsteps.
Hadn't nothing been heard of the famous geisha since the Noh cat afternoon?
Gossip had been rampant. Many feared that the Foxes had taken their revenge on
her, but now this stranger ronin claimed to have a message from her!

 
          
 
At last the ronin and the Daimyo were alone,
except for Magistrate Sakushi and a few trusted samurai.

 
          
 
"You bear a message for me?" the
Daimyo demanded.

 
          
 
"I have," the ronin said, rising
from his bow. "Last night I heard a scratching at my door. When I went to
it, I found two sheets of paper. One was addressed to me and said, 'Bear the
enclosed to the Daimyo for me.' It was signed, 'Okesa.' Here is the
other."

 
          
 
He handed the folded, sealed message to the
Daimyo who broke the seal, read the message, and then read it again.

 
          
 
"She is not coming," he said, .his
voice breaking with shock. "She does me a great dishonor!"

 
          
 
"Perhaps she does you a great
honor," said Magistrate Sakushi hesitantly. "You know there has been
grumbling about the propriety of giving a geisha her own crest."

 
          
 
"I will not go back on my promise,"
the Daimyo scowled, "nor will I let Okesa's absence stop me from honoring
her! If I shilly-shally that way, people may say that the Foxes have made a
fool of me yet. You—ronin! What is your name?"

 
          
 
The ronin answered carefully, for he and his
wife realized that their new wealth and youth could be suspect or arouse
jealousy in others.

 
          
 
"I have no name worth giving. Since my
master died, I have been living on a farm belonging to my wife's family. It is
in the mountains east of here."

 
          
 
That much, at least, was true. He was a new man
since this spring and he surely was his wife's family.

 
          
 
The Daimyo frowned, too polite to pry.

 
          
 
"So there are no claims on your
services?"

 
          
 
"None, except by my wife."

 
          
 
The Daimyo smiled. "Would you like to
claim Okesa as kin and accept her crest in her place? Such a thing is not
impossible, you know. Many a poor samurai family has sent a daughter into the
geisha's life."

 
          
 
"That is true, my lord. I would happily
claim such a brave and talented lady as kin."

 
          
 
"Very good. Then our problem is solved."
the Daimyo nodded to Magistrate Sakushi. "Take this man ... what shall we
call you?"

 
          
 
"May I suggest 'Oisaki Yama'?" the
ronin said. The name he suggested could be translated as "
Future
Mountain
."

 
          
 
The Daimyo was delighted. "An auspicious
name, especially for a mountain man. Very good. Magistrate, take Oisaki Yama
and prepare him to be sworn into my service. Then coach him on this afternoon's
ceremony."

 
          
 
"As you command, my lord."

 
          
 
When the Daimyo was alone, he unfolded Okesa's
letter and reread the following note: "I shall not be able to accept the
crest with which you have graciously offered to honor me. The one I send as
messenger I count as a father, for he saved my life when I was an infant. Honor
to him would be as honor to me."

 
          
 
There followed two lines of poetry:

 
          
 
After dancing for others,

 
          
 
for me,

 
          
 
A rice straw basket by the fire.

 
          
 
And the entire letter was signed with the
pawprint of a cat.

            
A. R. Major recently
completed a one-year term as the supply pastor for the International Baptist
Church of Prague in the
Czech
Republic
. He has appeared in CatFantastic II, and is
currently marketing a science fiction trilogy.

  
          
"Look at that lazy thing! He's
been 'meditating' in the hotel window since daybreak!" With that, Alice
Conners leaned over the big
Maine
coon cat and gave its thick fur an
affectionate rub.

            
Racky Conners reacted
by opening his slitted eyes a fraction more and giving "his
Alice
" the silent meow that recognized the
friendly gesture. In doing so, the big cat, whose coloring was so like that of
a racoon that everyone called him Racky, exposed his needle-sharp teeth. Those
same teeth "had pronounced "final judgment"

on many a small household varmint; for like others of his kind, the
gentle Racky was murder incorporated in the presence of mice or rats.

            
"What's he doin'
when he sits around like that with his ol' eyes almost closed, Mom?" son
Tommy asked.

            
Alice
looked affectionately at her son and his
still sleeping sister, who was in the big bed of the Sitka Baronov Hotel.

 
          
 
She gave a musical chuckle. "Maybe he's
going over some of his past lives and reliving them."

 
          
 
Sue popped up, rubbing her eyes, and wanted to
know what was going on.

 
          
 
"Aw, Mom thinks Racky's dreaming about
one of his past nine lives. You don't really believe that nine lives stuff,
huh?"

 
          
 
“I guess not!" And Sue joined the
laughter that filled the room of the ancient Alaskan hotel.

 
          
 
I guess I do! thought Racky. People! Why don't
they ask us experts instead of assuming so much . . . and why limit us to just
nine lives?

 
          
 
Sue joined in the conversation with all the wisdom
of her eight years. "Huh, I think that stuff about cats and nine lives is
silly. Why, why, THAT would make cats superior to humans!"

 
          
 
Racky indulged his human "pets" with
an affectionate gaze. Well y aren't we? You rush around getting food and the
things you need. WE just relax and let you wait on us! You don't see ME opening
a door or dumping a litter pan, humph!

 
          
 
In reality, Racky was very fond of Tommy and
Sue, even though he felt at times that Tommy's native tongue was
"stupidity!" Well, in time that inferior human kitten might approach
the mentality of his
Alice
. Now there was a human being who knew how to think like a cat! How
wonderful to watch her maneuver her "man" around and let him have her
own way! She actually had him believing that old letter Sue found in the attic
was from her whaler sea captain Uriah Morgan. Racky knew the truth of that
letter, just as he knew who the REAL head of the house was.

 
          
 
For there were times when
Alice
looked into his eyes, that a real soul link
developed. At such times they seemed to be able to read each other's thoughts.
And, at one such time he had implanted an urge to find out more about her
ancestors.

 
          
 
Now don't get me wrong! Racky was NOT one of
those "sweet-as-carnival-cotton-candy" pets. His family had learned
not to use lovy-dovy baby talk with him! He was an intelligent, respected
member of the family with his assigned tasks, and a no-nonsense attitude toward
them. He just needed an occasional ruffle of his fur to show he was not being
ignored.

 
          
 
Racky yawned again, stretched his powerful
forepaws and let his saberlike claws slide out of their sheaths for a second.
He gave Tommy an amused glance. If only he knew! In another appearing, number
three . . . or was it number four? I slept on a silk pillow in the court of a
real Chinese mandarin! Now HE spoke to me like the royalty I was! And what a
comedown it was in appearance number five to being just a common ship's cat!
What am I meditating about, you primitive anthropoid? Just how to get your
mother, my sweet Alice, to find her rightful inheritance, that's all!

 
          
 
Tommy screwed his six-year-old face into a
frown and asked, "Where's Dad and when do we get some breakfast?"

 
          
 
"Dad's looking for a place to eat right
now. Also a boat and a guide," Sue said. "I suggest we wash up now.
Let's see your grubby little paws."

 
          
 
Grudgingly the "little paws" were
held up for inspection.

 
          
 
"Do I have to wash both of them?"

 
          
 
"Hi, sport! I'd like to see you wash just
one of them," said a powerful male voice as his dad popped into the hotel
bedroom. "Just wait till you hear the news!"

 
          
 
With that promise, Tommy popped in and out of
the bathroom so fast he came out wiping his hands on the seat of his pajamas.
His sister Sue gave her kid brother the usual superior smile of her advanced years
as she emerged using a towel. "Sue made no comment because "No
fussing before breakfast" was one of Mom's strictist rules.

 
          
 
"I think I've got a guide and boat
located to finish our business here. He'll meet us at the Old Totem Bar and
Grill after we get breakfast."

 
          
 
"Your business or mine?" inquired
Alice
with a sly smile.

 
          
 
"Yours, sweets! I think I've given J. D.
Hollingsworth and Company enough of my vacation time to pay them back for
bankrolling this expedition."

 
          
 
Dad was an experienced "timber
cruiser" for a large
California
lumber company. He would go out alone in the woods for weeks on end
surveying new forests before the lumberjacks came. Based on his reports the
management could estimate how many saw-logs or electric poles, or hardwood
flooring, could be gotten from a given area. When they found out he would be
spending a month in
Alaska
with his family, they agreed to pay expenses if he'd keep his
experienced eyes open for promising timber tracts they might buy or lease.

 
          
 
Jim extended an arm to Racky and the big cat
took the cue to run as smoothly as motor oil up his arm and perch on his shoulder.
The family was used to the amused glances this earned them from passers by. One
such glance from an ancient Haida Indian was more intent than amused. Jim
thought he was the most elderly human being he had ever seen. His leatherlike
skin had the texture of parchment and was spider-webbed with fine lines.

 
          
 
But it was the eyes that captured your
attention. They were so dark that you had to look closely to see that they were
not all pupils.
Alice
instinctively reached out and pulled her two children closer to
herself. Jim could feel Racky's claws digging in through his heavy shirt.

 
          
 
The old man spoke with a voice like a rusty
hinge.

 
          
 
"Good morning, friends. I have never seen
an animal quite like that one. May I see him more closely?" And he extended
his hand like a person who never had his desires denied. The wrinkled face had
a smile, but the eyes burned like embers.

 
          
 
"Of course." Jim returned the smile.
"Now Racky, this man wants to meet you as a friend, so behave." He
suspected that though the Haidas had domesticated the dog for centuries, the
idea of a member of the feline society being taken into the home was strange.

 
          
 
Jim continued talking, hoping to keep the big
cat calmed down. He carefully extended the animal cradled in his right arm.

 
          
 
"Racky, meet an admirer. Sir, I'm Jim
Conners, this is my wife Alice, and our children, Tommy and Sue. You are?"

 
          
 
For a moment it seemed the elderly one would
ignore the polite question, for he merely bent lower to look deeply into the
cat's eyes. To Racky's credit, he returned the gaze without flinching. The
Indian placed his wrinkled hand gently on the big cat's head.

 
          
 
"Very strange . .. this one is very
young, but at the same time, he much older than I." Then looking at
Alice
he added, "You too young, have only
lately come by something very old.

 
          
 
"My name means nothing now. Everyone here
calls me ‘the Old One'." He said this as if he begrudged giving out even
that little bit of information. Then he added, "I am local Shaman."
With that he spun on his heel and moved off rapidly for one so old.

 
          
 
"Wow! That's a real weird one," Sue
said.

 
          
 
"What's a shay-man?" asked Tommy,
scrubbing his nose on the back of his shirtsleeve.

 
          
 
"Some sort of tribal wise man, history
keeper, or advice giver,"
Alice
replied absently as she stared at the old
Haida's departing back. Then, looking at her husband, she said, "Jim, did
you see his eyes? It felt like he was looking right through me!"

 
          
 
Jim did not want his family to be alarmed,
though he felt the same way, so he tried to make his response casual.

 
          
 
"Oh, it's nothing, hon, just a curious
old man. I'd bet he's nearly a hundred years old. Why, just think of the tall
tales he could tell! Say, let's get on with that breakfast, my inner man's
'bout starved."

 
          
 
Yeah, thought Racky, play it easy, boss. But
I'm not the only one sniffing out a rat hole here!" And for the first time
in this appearing, Racky felt a deep-seated fear of a human being.

 
          
 
The family was just finishing up breakfast at
the Old Totem Bar and Grill. The waiter had agreed to "bend the
rules" a bit and let Racky eat out of a bowl at their feet. Like most
Indians, he watched the large cat with fascination. They were joined by a
middle-aged Haida wearing a yatching cap and a wide smile.

 
          
 
"Mr. Conners? Will Longwolf is my name.
There is a rumor around town that you need a boat and a guide."

 
          
 
Before Jim could answer, Tommy blurted out,
"Gee, Dad, he looks like an Indian, but he don't sound like one!"

 
          
 
Sue had the same opinion, but she was wise
enough to keep silent.

 
          
 
"Should I say, me Longwolf, you needum
guide?" His eyes twinkled as he added, "Son, that routine went out
with the Lone Ranger and Tonto! I'm a graduate of the
University
of
Alaska
, class of '56."