Autumn Bridge (63 page)

One day, when they went there to play, one of the children pointed and screamed.

“Look! A ghost!”

A dim outline of a being was barely visible near the remnant of a stone wall that once might have encircled the temple. Several of the more timid children began to run away.

“It’s not a ghost,” Kimi said, “it’s a man.”

He was sitting so still, and his clothing was so dull and faded, he seemed to emerge like a shadow from the wall itself. He was old, with a shaved head, sunken cheeks, and bright eyes that maintained a very steady gaze. His tunic might once have been white, many years ago. On the ground next to him was a conical serge hat and a wooden staff.

“Who are you?” Kimi asked.

He said, “A renunciant and a pilgrim.”

Kimi knew a renunciant was one who gave up the world. A pilgrim was one who traveled to seek enlightenment or perform penance. No one in the village had ever been either. There was nothing for poor farmers to give up. Everything they did and everything they had belonged to their lord. Poor farmers did not seek enlightenment, either, because exhausted people on the constant verge of starvation need sleep and food far more than wisdom. They did not have to travel afar to perform penance, even if they had time to travel, which they did not, because their every waking moment was a penance for sins they didn’t even know they had committed, in some past life or another. If this old man was a renunciant, perhaps a visitation by a Buddha or god or demon had changed his life. He could have interesting tales to tell.

“What have you given up?” Kimi asked.

“Almost everything,” the monk said.

“Where have you traveled?”

“Almost nowhere.”

Well, this conversation wasn’t going anywhere either. She decided to switch to easier questions. “What’s your name?”

“Zengen,” the old monk said.

“What does Zengen mean?”

“What does any name mean?”

“Well, my name means ‘without equal,’ ” Kimi said. “His name is Goro, only it isn’t really Goro, we just call him that, short for ‘Gorotsuki,’ which is “rascal.” I don’t know why. He doesn’t do rascally things. So, what does Zengen mean?”

“What does any name mean?” Zengen said again.

“I told you what mine means. ‘Without equal.’ ” Kimi was beginning to wonder whether the monk was a holy man or merely a lunatic. It was sometimes hard to tell the difference between the two, especially if he was a monk of one of the Zen sects, which his name led her to believe he was. But that could just be a crazy man being clever.

“And what does ‘without equal’ mean?”

“It means no one can match me, I guess.”

“What does it mean that no one can match you?”

“What does anything mean?” Kimi said. “If you keep asking, you can keep asking forever and never really get an answer.”

The old monk put his hands together in gassho, the Buddhist gesture of respect, and bowed. He said, “You’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome? Am I supposed to thank you?”

“What you do or don’t do is for you to decide,” the old monk said.

“What am I supposed to thank you for?”

“If you keep asking, you can keep asking forever and never really get an answer.”

“That’s what I just told you.”

“Thank you,” Zengen said, and bowed in gassho again.

Kimi laughed. Then she returned his bow, putting her hands together the way he did. She still didn’t know whether the old man was holy or crazy, but he was entertaining. No one in the village talked like he did.

“You’re welcome,” Kimi said.

“This was a temple,” the old monk said.

“Yes, long ago. Long before I was born.”

He smiled. “Long ago indeed. Do you know its name?”

“My mother said it was called Mu-something. She might have been joking.” One meaning of
mu
was “nothing.”

The old man blinked. He took his legs out of the lotus position in which he had placed them and rose to his feet.

“Can it be?” he said.

He looked at the wall, at the foundation stones in the grass, at the fallen beam of the main hall, now mostly rotted away.

“I am in Yamakawa Domain.”

“Yes,” Kimi said. “Our lord is Lord Hiromitsu. He is not a very great Great Lord, but he is allied with—”

“Lord Kiyori,” the old monk said.

“Yes, the Great Lord of Akaoka,” Kimi said, “a prophet who sees the future, and so can never be defeated in battle. If battles should occur once again, as everyone says they will.”

“I am back,” the old monk said. “I was abbot here, oh, was it twenty years ago? Or was it ten?” He chuckled. “I built a hut there. Not a very sturdy one. Neither I nor the hut was here for long.”

Now Kimi was sure Zengen was demented. As far back as she could remember, this place had been a ruin. Of course, she was only six years old. It was possible. Unlikely, though.

“I will rebuild this temple,” the old monk said, “in earnest this time, with my own two hands.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kimi said. “To do anything anywhere in the domain without permission is a capital offense. You would need Lord Hiromitsu’s approval, and also that of the chief abbot of this temple’s sect. I’m not even sure which one it is, or even if it still exists.”

“I will get the necessary permissions,” the old monk said.

Though he smiled happily, tears rolled down his cheeks. This convinced Kimi he was indeed a follower of the Way of the Zen Patriarchs, for it was well known that such people, especially masters of that arcane religion, often laughed and cried at the same time. That didn’t mean he couldn’t also be demented.

“I have wandered so aimlessly for so many years,” he said, “and without intention, I have found myself exactly back where I should be. My gratitude is immense.” He went to his knees and performed a full prostration in the direction of the rotting beam.

Then he wrote a letter, which he gave to Kimi to deliver to Lord Hiromitsu’s castle. Kimi entrusted it to Goro, who could run for miles without tiring. His sense of direction was extraordinarily poor, but the lord’s castle was not so very far away, and it was directly at the end of the north road, so even Goro could find his way there without difficulty. She was afraid Zengen’s letter would cause trouble and result in punishment for him instead of permission. But he insisted, even though she warned him. What more could she do?

Two weeks later, it seemed her worst fears were to be realized. A troop of twenty mounted samurai arrived and demanded the presence of the village elder. The leader of the samurai was a ferocious-looking man who seemed ready to kill everyone in sight.

He said to the groveling elder, “Where is Mushindo Monastery?”

The elder’s eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open. He kept his head on the ground and said nothing.

The samurai leader turned to one of his men and said, “Taro, behead him. Perhaps his successor will be quicker to answer.”

“Yes, Lord Saiki.”

Kimi, at the back of the bowing crowd with the other children, looked up to see the samurai called Taro dismount and draw his sword.

“Wait, sir samurai,” Kimi said. “I will show you the way.” Lord Saiki glared angrily at her. She dropped her head back to the ground in fright. Why had she spoken up? She didn’t even like Elder Buncho. He was always scolding and ordering people about. And she didn’t know that the ruins of Mu-something was the Mushindo Monastery the lord was seeking. Now she would lose her head, too.

“You, girl,” Lord Saiki said, “stand up!”

Her entire body quivering, Kimi did as she was told. She hoped she would not urinate in fear. It was one thing to die. It was quite another to be laughed at while dying. Next to her, Goro also stood, because he always followed her in everything she did.

“Idiot,” Lord Saiki said, “why are you standing? I didn’t tell you to rise!”

“Sir lord,” Kimi said, “he
is
an idiot, so he doesn’t know better.”

One of the samurai among the troop laughed. He managed to choke it back, but not before Lord Saiki heard him.

“Hidé, you will remain on stable duty until notified otherwise.”

“Yes, lord,” Hidé said, no longer amused at all.

“Show us the way, girl,” Lord Saiki said.

“Yes, sir lord.” Kimi bowed and obeyed. A heartbeat behind her, Goro did the same.

If the samurai had come for Old Zengen, Kimi hoped they would only arrest him, not execute him. Imprisonment and torture were not as bad for Zen practitioners as they were for others, since their monasteries were like prisons anyway, or so Kimi had heard. There they were starved, beaten, deprived of sleep, and made to stare at the wall or the floor for days at a time. If they moved a muscle or made a sound, senior monks yelled at them and beat them with sticks. If they fell asleep, their eyelids were cut off. If they couldn’t hold the lotus position, their legs were broken into place. Prison would be like going home for Zengen, wouldn’t it? Kimi ran with Goro to the ruins and hoped for the best.

What actually happened shocked her more than anything she could have imagined.

Old Zengen was raking away some tall grass he had cut when the samurai arrived. He put down his tool and bowed in gassho.

The troop halted and all the samurai dismounted, including Lord Saiki, and all went to their knees and bowed with their heads to the ground.

“Lord Nao,” Lord Saiki said, “Lord Kiyori, Lord Shigeru, and Lord Genji send their warmest regards to you. They ask that you inform them when you are ready to receive guests, and they will come immediately.”

“Thank you, Lord Saiki,” Old Zengen said, “but I am no lord, and he who was Nao is no more. I am Zengen, a follower of Buddha’s Way, nothing more.”

Lord Saiki looked up and smiled. “Well, perhaps a little more.” He gestured, and Taro came forward with an elaborate silk scroll case and put it into Zengen’s hands with a deep bow. “By order of the Chief Abbot of the Mushindo Sect, you are reappointed abbot of this monastery.”

Zengen smiled. “My, my.”

“We are to remain and assist you with the restoration, Reverend Abbot. Lord Hiromitsu has given his permission for us to employ as many of the villagers for the task as may be required.”

“If the farmers are pulled from the fields during planting, their harvests will be reduced, and they will suffer for it. I do not require their help, or yours, Lord Saiki. I will restore Mushindo myself.”

“At least permit us to bring the necessary supplies.”

“That, too, will be unnecessary. I will use what I can find. What I cannot find, I will do without.”

“Alone, and no supplies. It will be a daunting task. Mushindo has been in ruins for a century or more.”

“I won’t be alone,” Old Abbot Zengen said. “Kimi will help me, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will,” Kimi said, “and so will Goro.”

“A little girl, an idiot, and ruins. You have chosen a hard path, Reverend Abbot.”

“Not at all, Lord Saiki. Once again, it is the path that has chosen me.”

Kimi and the other children came to visit Zengen often after that. It turned out that he had been to far more places than he’d said. Almost everywhere would have been closer to the truth than almost nowhere. He had visited all eighty-eight temples of the Shikoku pilgrimage, which was begun by the saint Kobo Daishi over a thousand years ago. It was said that those who traveled that path in sincerity would find liberation from the eighty-eight delusions of the senses.

“Did you?” Kimi asked.

“I found tired muscles, sore feet, and sunburn,” Zengen said.

Then he had crossed the Inland Sea to Honshu, and traveled to the holy mountain of Hiei. There he had listened to the sermons of the most celebrated Buddhist masters, and performed the rites and practices of the most esoteric and magical sects, seeking freedom from the pain and suffering of life.

“Did you?” Kimi asked.

“Only a fool believes in magic,” Zengen said, “and only a bigger fool seeks to live and not suffer. In the midst of fire, how do you escape from the burning flames? In the midst of ice, how do you escape from the freezing cold?”

The monastery Old Abbot Zengen built was less like other temples and much like those that he once had constructed in Shiroishi Domain, when he was one of the two hundred sixty Great Lords of the realm. It resembled a small fortress more than it did a religious retreat. This he regretted, since he no longer had any military thoughts in mind, but he only knew one way to build, and that was the way of the samurai he had been for so long.