Little Yokozuna (5 page)

"And suddenly we weren't in Boston any more," said Owen Greatheart.

"And where were you?" asked the monkey.

"Well," said Owen Greatheart, but he didn't have a chance to finish. 'Siah clutched his arm.

"Owen!" said the little boy, looking over his shoulder toward the gate.

"What is it?" asked the monkey, still chuckling. "Another
cheepu-mon-ku?
" Then he also looked, and shrieked in terror.

There was a deep shout of anger, and before they had a chance even to turn around and prepare for the danger, a figure came leaping like a whirlwind through the gate, someone who seemed huge in a vast dark robe with a great cruel club in his hand.

"Look out!" cried Owen Greatheart, catching up to 'Siah and trying to shield him. "Run! Deeper into the garden!"

But before they could do it, the madman had leaped around them and cut them off on the path, clubbing them right and left until they were a bruised heap on the ground, 'Siah still under Owen Greatheart and protected from the heaviest blows. They cowered on the path, not daring to look up and see their enemy.

 

 

 

"You are all very foolish," said a quavery, quiet voice.

The three conspirators still crouched cringing on the ground, waiting for another blow.

"Look up," said the voice.

"We don't dare," said Owen Greatheart. "We're afraid you'll hit us again."

"I haven't hit you yet," said the voice. "Why would I hit you now?"

"Tell that to my head," said Owen Greatheart.

"And to my poor sore bottom," said the monkey.

"Yeah," said 'Siah, not wanting to be left out. "Me too."

"No one has hit any of you," said the voice. "Go ahead, feel your heads and your poor sore bottoms. Are there any bruises? Any painful places?"

They did so, gingerly. It was true. Nothing was sore.

"You expected me to hit you," said the voice. "I frightened you, shouted a warning, and waved my old staff vigorously around your poor bodies until you collapsed, thinking you were beaten. Heh-heh. Was it a good trick?"

"Good trick," muttered Basho, but still no one dared look up.

"Look up, foolish creatures," said the voice. "I couldn't hurt a butterfly if my life depended on it. Or rather, I wouldn't."

Slowly the boys and monkey rolled apart from their heap on the ground. Standing above them, holding a short staff, was the ancient priest whom they had seen leaving the temple earlier. His face was thin and bony, crosshatched with wrinkles like a mystic map.

"We saw you leave," 'Siah said.

"And I saw you see me leave," said the old priest. "And you didn't see me return. These things happen. Do I truly look a thousand years old?"

"How did you hear that?" asked Owen Greatheart.

"With ears," said the old priest. "Now, stand up on your unbruised legs and walk quickly out of this garden."

"We can't," said Owen Greatheart.

"You must," said the old priest. "I'm not really giving you a choice."

"We have to go on," said Owen Greatheart. "Into the garden."

"Try," quavered the old priest, "and I shall have to wave my staff vigorously all around your bodies again." For some reason, this was daunting. The memory of those imaginary blows was somehow worse than if the bruises had been real. The three companions also realized, without saying so, that even if the old priest never actually touched them, his whirling staff would be as impassable as a wall.

'Siah looked like he would burst into tears. "But we don't even have any candy wrappers," he wailed. "We won't do any harm to your stupid old garden. We
never
litter,
anywhere
."

The old priest squatted on the flagstone beside 'Siah and squinted at him.

"This seems to be an unreasonable emotion for just seeing a stupid old garden," he said. "You puzzle me."

"You don't understand," said Owen Greatheart. "We
have
to get into this garden, for the sake of someone else. We have to try to find something."

The old priest smiled. "That is the only reason to get into such a garden," he said. "To try to find Something. But you also don't understand. The reason I will not let you in is not for the sake of the garden. The garden can take care of itself. We don't fear your candy wrappers. The reason I will not let you in is for
your
sake."

"Is it because we're
foreigners?
" asked 'Siah. "Don't you start on this gaijin stuff. We get enough of that from this monkey."

"No," said the old priest, taking the little boy by the hand and leading him to a patch of soft moss. "Not because you are
gaijin
. In fact, in repayment for having greeted you with such a beating, I will now explain to you why this garden cannot be entered. Please be seated." He sat down, with his legs crossed lotus fashion and his back very straight. His hands were on his knees. The others imitated him. They could now hear the unmistakable sound of running water from beyond the trees. They waited for the old priest to speak.

"You have come," he said finally in an impressive tone, "to the Garden of a Thousand Worlds."

The two brothers looked at each other. "What does that mean?" asked 'Siah.

"Well," said the old priest. "Let me explain. Do you know that a true Japanese garden is designed for philosophy as much as for beauty?"

"Yes," said Owen Greatheart. "We know that."

"Then you also may know that it is a place for
enlightenment
," said the old priest, "where an unexpected view may surprise you into a deep insight, a truth you've never known before."

"We know that," said Owen Greatheart. "We wanted to build one at home, a little one in our living room. That's why we were at the museum," he said, turning to Basho, "looking for ideas. It was for our dad's birthday."

The old priest chuckled. "A little one in your living room," he said, as if to himself. "A little one in your living room. These gaijin." He seemed more entertained than displeased by the idea. "So," he went on finally, after shaking his head for a while, "for you to have universal insights, your garden must be bigger than itself."

"Bigger than
itself?
" said 'Siah. "Nothing's that big. That's silly."

"No, it isn't, 'Siah," said Owen Greatheart. "I get what he means. A stone can represent a mountain, a little pagoda can be a temple, a bed of white gravel can be a river, or the sea. Each small thing means more than it looks."

The old priest looked at Owen Greatheart. "Good," he said. "Very good."

"But so what?" said Owen Greatheart. "There are gardens
everywhere
made according to
this
philosophy. Why can't we see this one?"

The old priest paused.

"It's just another philosophical garden," persisted Owen. "Please?
Onegai-shimasu?
"

The old man sat very still, as if deep in thought. Flies buzzed, while invisible birds chirped and beeped, rustling the foliage. The monkey rolled several somersaults in the pathway, ending up seated rightwise and scratching his scalp with a shrewd squint.

"This Garden," the old priest finally continued, as if there had been no pause, "is not like other gardens."

Owen Greatheart rolled his eyes. "Everyone says that about their own garden," he said.

"Other philosophical gardens simply
represent
the Universe," said the old priest, ignoring the comment. "And so in a sense are also gardens of a thousand worlds. But in this Garden, the whole Universe is truly
contained
."

"I don't understand," said Owen Greatheart.

"
Everywhere
" said the old priest, "is here.
Here
you find every Place that is."

"So it is a gateway!" said Owen Greatheart. "We can go through here to find Little Harriet. That's what we want."

The old priest looked at him. "Oh, it's a gateway all right," he said. His voice sounded regretful.

"Perfect!" said 'Siah.

"Don't you see what that means, foolish children?" asked the old priest. "There are infinite places in this Garden. When you enter,
you do not know where it will take you
."

"
Cool
," said 'Siah.

"
Not
cool," said the old priest. "The possibilities are
endless
. It could take you to New Delhi or Philadelphia, Mars or Mercury, Heaven or Hell. It could take you to the Andromeda Galaxy, or to another universe altogether. How do you know if it will take you to this Little Harriet of yours? It could take you inside one of the cells of that lizard on that tree. Would you enjoy that, little boy?" he asked 'Siah.

"Sure!" said 'Siah, looking eagerly at the bright blue lizard.

"Bah! There's
more
," said the old priest, now annoyed, but obviously calling up all his inner disciplines to hide it. "Once you get wherever you get, then how do you get back? No one has ever returned out of this Garden. There are fairy tales of some who returned, bringing glories or horrors from some other world. But the true tales are of the ones who were lost forever. You go in
and you never return
"

"But we don't want to come back here," said 'Siah. "Once we find Little Harriet, we just want to go home. That's OK if we can't get back here. No
offense
"

"What makes you think you can find your way
home
from that lizard cell, or from Alpha Centauri?" asked the old priest. "What has given you the impression that you can choose your destination from this Garden at all, even to find Little Harriet?"

"Well," said Owen Greatheart, staring hard at the old priest, "we are experienced at this. We've been traveling through garden gateways for days. That's how we came from Boston to here. And we've been able to stay right on Little Harriet's trail, right up till the last time."

"So?" said the old priest.

"So," faltered Owen Greatheart. "Well, I've just assumed that we'd be able to do the same thing again. However we did it before."

"And how was
that?
" said the, old priest. "
Think
! You are making the mistake of judging this Garden by all the other ones you've seen. But even consider
them
. So far you've only been traveling the local train lines, so to speak, from one little stop to the next, and you must confess that you have no real idea how you got here. And this, my friends, isn't just another little train station. This is Haneda International Airport, or maybe Cape Canaveral,
with no return flights
.''

Despair overwhelmed Owen Greatheart, as he realized how little he knew about what he was doing.
What were they doing here?
He covered his eyes, feeling weary.

"I don't think you really know," said 'Siah to the old priest. "Have you ever actually been in this garden?"

"No," said the old priest, smiling. "Not beyond this bend."

"How can I ask this in polite Japanese?" said Owen Greatheart, looking up again. "How do we know that you're not just an old fraud? We know so
many
priests."

The old priest merely smiled, and answered the wrong question. "There is no way to ask that question in polite Japanese," he said. "Now, tell me your story. Why are you here? Maybe it will help us all understand."

Owen Greatheart sighed. "Well, maybe it will," he said, without conviction. He considered a moment, and began. "It's like this. We are seven brothers and sisters, and we live near Boston, Massachusetts."

So he told the story, just as he had started to do earlier with Basho the monkey. He told of the museum garden and Little Harriet's chipmunk, how all of them had rushed behind the lantern and found themselves in some indescribable sense being swallowed up by the garden, then ending up to their amazement in a small walled garden in an unknown country, with no Little Harriet in sight.

"And then what?" asked the monkey.

"We ran out of that garden," said Owen Greatheart. "There was no one around. It was hot and sunny, and there was a dusty country road running by. We could smell wood smoke and cooking food, but everyone must have been working in the fields. We ran all around the garden and the house it was attached to, but there was no sign of Little Harriet. There was a sound like really faraway thunder in the distance, way up the road. We ran in that direction and could see what looked like a cloud of dust way far away, like might be behind a big truck on a dirt road. Then Q.J. found something."

"Q.J. is another brother?" asked the old priest.

"A sister," said Owen Greatheart. "She's thirteen."

"We call her Quiddity Jane," said 'Siah. "It's a private joke."

"What did she find?" asked the monkey. "Tell the story, tell the story."

"One of Little Harriet's sneakers," said Owen Greatheart. "From that we knew she had gone that way, so we started to run. Somehow we knew that she was in that cloud of dust."

"Somehow I know it also," said the monkey. He frowned. "I think I begin to see a certain
hand
in this."

"Hush, monkey," said the old priest.