Pathway to Japanese Literature

1 “Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we have forgiven our debtors. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil… Amen.”

The morning prayer flowed solemnly, solemnly through the chapel. The lambs panting in sin knelt, supporting their bowed heads with their fingers, and repeated the name of the holy, holy Father until exhaustion.

“Hymn number twenty-four!” The Minister solemnly commanded. The believers hurriedly began flipping through the pages. Thick and thin voices burst out in chaotic disarray. A hoarse, off-key voice stood out, lagged behind the others, and grew frantic. After the limping chorus ended, a prim-faced man rose from among the believers, approached the altar, opened the large scripture beside the minister, and rapidly read a certain passage from Genesis. “Proclaim… Proclaim…”

The man stammered, repeating “Proclaim” countless times; flushing red, he grew increasingly flustered and stuttered even more. Once again the chorus began and ended, and then the pastor, who had been impatiently clearing his throat to prepare his voice from earlier, slowly rose and ascended to the altar. The white clerical robe he wore formed a sublime contrast with the black backdrop behind him, and together with the high collar that reached his chin and the old-fashioned shoes that covered only the tips of his toes, it further enhanced his dignity, making him appear closer to God. “The New Testament, the First Epistle of John, Chapter Three, verse twenty-one.” “Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have no fear before God… I have deeply contemplated this divine word and believe there is much here to teach us.” “Modern Christians are far too gloomy.” “If one has no guilt before God, I believe one can always lead a cheerful and bright life.” “One should be able to act freely without any hesitation.” “In the Old Testament, there is such a story.” “David—that David, the great king of Israel—danced before the Ark of the Covenant.” “Moreover, it is written that David danced with all his strength.” “David must have danced so absorbed in ecstasy that he forgot himself.” “Michal, his wife, saw this and rebuked her husband, saying, ‘What is this—a king of all people dancing?’ But David paid no heed and kept on dancing.” “I believe that David’s childlike actions—unafraid of God—are truly righteous.” “It was precisely because he had no guilty conscience before God that he could dance like that.…”

Reaching into his cassock and pulling out a handkerchief, the Pastor wound it around his fingertips and gracefully wiped the sweat from his nose. The potent fragrance of heliotrope spread through the chapel.

“Among my acquaintances, there is a student who has recently been influenced by evil ideologies.” “He used to meet with me and converse cheerfully, even laughing heartily, but once ensnared by this ideology, he no longer seeks to meet with me at all.” “He does nothing but brood gloomily.” “There’s no way he could dance cheerfully like David.” “This is proof that he harbors fear of God.” “However, those who cannot look directly upon God have been gradually increasing in number lately.” “Evil ideologies are targeting you young people.” “Everyone, this is an evil spirit.” “It is Satan clothed in plausible garments.” “Christians must fight this Satan to the very end in God’s name.” “We must drive this out of society.” “We must remain absolutely faithful to God’s divine word.” “a life of freedom without ruin…”

“Bastard! Where’d you go drinkin’? Finally got your hands on some cash—Tch—comin’ back boiled red like an octopus…”

“Of course.” “The money I took is my damn business, ain’t it?” “Dealin’ with those centipede bastards day and night—hell, if I don’t get plastered, I can’t survive in this world…”

“Well… try sayin’ it once, you bastard…” *Clang! Thud! Rattle rattle rattle…* On the other side of the altar’s thin wall, a brawl broke out. One of the dozing believers slipped from his chair in panicked haste. “...And therefore,” continued Pastor Ono as he wiped sweat from his upper lip with a heliotrope-scented handkerchief, “I earnestly implore you all to deeply contemplate this divine word of God…” The Pastor cleared his throat, his knitted brows twitching like agitated caterpillars.

“Offerings!”

The chestnut-headed man in the front row turned toward everyone and bellowed in a booming voice. Inside the red bag, silver coins clinked.

Once again came hymns and prayers; finally, after a long worship service, the people rose from their seats. “Farewell, Pastor.” “Farewell, Auntie.” The believers bid solemn farewell to the young pastor with fervor, then nodded politely toward the emaciated old woman lined up behind him.

“Truly, today’s sermon was splendid.” “Everyone listened with such earnestness indeed.”

After the people had left, the old woman called “Auntie” turned back toward the Pastor with a smile while drawing each window’s curtains.

“...The neighbors were quite noisy.” “What was going on?” “They made such a commotion; it was downright embarrassing…”

The Pastor had finished taking off his cassock and was smoothing his hair in front of a small mirror.

“I hear their husband has lost his job.” “Truly, these are hard times we live in.” “Even if they’re struggling to eat, they ought to consider our standing a little.” “That’s downright disgraceful before the believers…” The Pastor carved those wrinkles deep between his brows once again.

2

It was thirteen years ago.

At that time, O-Matsu, having been widowed, stood on the lowest rung of existence with three children to support. Days when they didn’t eat continued for several days.

When night came, death spread its luring hands to greet O-Matsu and her children. The only problem was finding an opportunity to die.

One midnight, O-Matsu took her children by the hand and wandered the streets aimlessly. Like kittens drained of all vigor, the children walked obediently with only their eyes gleaming. A thick pine tree stretched out its sturdy arms. Yet to reach that place stood a high cliff. The rails shone white. But no train came for what felt like ages. They arrived at the riverbank. A warm wind blew. The blue moonlight made the water at her feet look fathomless. At last O-Matsu smiled. She rejoiced at having reached that spot. Her hand unconsciously shoved away her eldest son.

Next, embracing the two children on either side, she jumped in. Called awake, O-Matsu opened her eyes and realized she lay stretched out on a white sheet. She panicked, trying to spring upright. On both sides, the two children breathed softly in sleep. O-Matsu scanned her surroundings. Within gentle smile-wrinkles were eyes watching over her. But she scanned the room again. Ken was here—but where had the older one gone?—

Father Sawaki of St. John’s Church first reassured O-Matsu and her children with a benevolent smile. Since there was a lack of help, he himself entreated that they stay indefinitely. O-Matsu felt tears welling up from the depths of her being. There is a God in this world, she thought. From that day onward, Father Sawaki became the living Christ of this world to O-Matsu. On a piercingly cold February morning, O-Matsu underwent baptism. The water’s cold pierced her entire body like needles. But O-Matsu kept praying aloud.

She was bedridden with a cold for three days. After receiving baptism, O-Matsu came to firmly believe she was a child of God. She felt a heavy mission upon her shoulders. Father Sawaki would point to O-Matsu and celebrate her rebirth during his sermons, thanking God for His salvation and benevolence. Each time, O-Matsu would stand up and repeat a long prayer to "the love of God and Father." There was unease among the believers. No one among them failed to praise the Father’s beautiful act. There were even those who boasted it was the church’s shining pride. To repay his godly deed, the believers agreed to make a special offering. The Father politely declined. However, moved by their fervor in the end, he accepted the money. He took it to the savings bank that very day. A third-rate newspaper featured Father Sawaki with a photo in its Sunday supplement once again. His good deeds shone at the top of the page in a three-column spread. Along with words of praise from headquarters arrived a monetary gift. The number of believers increased. Father nodded in satisfaction. Within his priestly robe, his fingers flicked an abacus.

O-Matsu and her family were treated even more kindly. The believers elevated Auntie’s status to that of the Holy Mother. This was due entirely to one fact—that her husband had been a poor carpenter. Yet in her heart, O-Matsu sneered at her husband. (As far as she knew, he’d been perpetually drunk, hopelessly addicted to dice games, kicking her whenever he lost.) The believers’ affection grew with each passing day. And O-Matsu herself drew ever closer to God’s throne. Through a meddlesome believer’s arrangements, her son was eventually sent as an apprentice to a knitwear factory. Every time she came home on leave, O-Matsu wept remembering her murdered eldest son. The daughter whose skull had been smashed with a stake during that drowning—mouth agape, living in dimmed vision—O-Matsu waited desperately now, now for a miracle to descend upon this child by Heavenly Father’s grace.

Father Sawaki’s promotion and transfer to an Anglican church in the central city under headquarters’ orders was devastating for O-Matsu. But her sorrow vanished with the arrival of his replacement. This new pastor had occupied his post for about four years before eventually taking a beautiful married believer by the hand and disappearing into thin air. The young Pastor Ono had arrived exactly one year prior. He provided for O-Matsu and her children under what he claimed was God’s divine command. Because above all else, he feared angering the old regular members… In the chapel, absolute power lay with those long-standing believers. The chapel’s upkeep and pastor’s livelihood rested entirely in their hands. Thus if they favored O-Matsu, Pastor Ono had no choice but to comply with their wishes. Pastor Ono secured unwavering trust among them. The simple-minded daughter was doted on like a younger sister. O-Matsu had no choice but to thank God earnestly for her own good fortune.

3

“Mom, can I come up?”

From the kitchen entrance, a broad-shouldered man lumbered forward and peered in. "Oh, Kin! You haven't come by in ages—we've been worried sick wondering what was wrong." "Yeah, couldn't make it, and—"

It was her son’s visit after two months. O-Matsu began anxiously tidying the area around her.

“You’re not the type to make your parents worry, so why on earth couldn’t you come?”

O-Matsu stared intently at her son. Within two months, he had changed completely into a different person. This bearded face, this rough clothing, this sullen demeanor. Where had that model worker’s prim demeanor vanished to…

“Is the factory busy?” “Yeah… What does Kenbo want to do? Where did she go?”

“She’s probably in the Pastor’s room.” “The actor’s place, huh? Mom, you gotta be careful. Ken’s seventeen too——” “When you say ‘actor,’ who do you mean?” “You know damn well I mean that fox bastard here in the church. He’s just some actor putting on a show up at the altar, ain’t he? Ain’t he? Mom.” “Why... what are you saying...” O-Matsu’s lips trembled faintly. Her eyes darted warily around them. “You’re—you’re possessed by an evil spirit. Satan’s putting those words in your mouth. Isn’t that right? Kin—quickly beg God’s forgiveness. Oh Lord, please forgive my foolish lamb. By Your holy power alone, cast out these evil spirits from this poor child...”

“Stop it.” “Mom, it’s no use praying to the fox.” “Foxes go wild for fried tofu—there ain’t no God.” “Priests ain’t nothing but magicians.” “Shh… He can hear.” “What on earth are you saying?” “Did you forget? God is your father.” “Surely you haven’t forgotten that divine grace, have you?” “Come on, pray.” “Seek salvation.” “Apologize and humbly rely on His power once more……”

“The folks watching magic tricks stay fervent as long as they’re being fooled.” “But once you’ve figured out their gimmicks, it gets so damn ridiculous you can’t stand watching what those bastards do.” “You oughta check what they’re hiding in their hands behind their backs.” “You’ll see right through their whole racket.” “Honest!” “I was a devout believer myself till just lately.” “Didn’t even know I was getting conned—just sat there grinning at their little show.” “But listen, Mom—I grabbed that bastard’s tail. ’Fore joining the union, I ran with foxes too.” “But my brain’s rewired now—I see the world back-to-front instead of frontways.” “You’ll see clear through everything.” “That’s right.” “Mom, open your eyes and try snatching God’s tail.” “Peek from behind the curtain.” “I’ll pry your eyes open whether you like it or not… Hell, living with these con artists is what’s rotten from the start.”

As Kinji spoke, hammering each word into place, O-Matsu listened blankly, her hand still making the sign of the cross over her chest.

“Amen… Amen……” Down the corridor, the idiot girl was screaming.

“Ken, come here. What the hell you doin’ wearin’ face powder? “Don’t you go near that Amen place.” “Listen up.” “Big Brother’s gonna get you to a specialist doc real soon an’ fix you up good.” “Listen up, Ken—don’t you go near that Amen place.… Mom, I’m leavin’ your money here.” “I’m in a hurry—headin’ out now. See ya—”

Just as he had come, Kinji lumbered out without making a sound.

4

When summer came, street preaching began every night, everywhere as if by routine. St. John’s Church was no exception; the believers split into three groups and walked through the town distributing flyers. This year, with exceptional zeal, the believers employed nearly coercive methods in their recruitment. They were deadly serious. This fervor stemmed from a more direct cause than their faith. Every Sunday, the Pastor would tearfully implore them about the Christian evangelism movement—that it was the believers’ urgent duty in this modern age. The Pastor’s unnervingly earnest attitude had deeply stirred the believers.

“The Pastor remains ever fervent in his evangelism efforts.” “That is truly most commendable indeed.”

In response to the believers’ interrogative-sounding tones, O-Matsu would always reply in this manner.

But she knew these facts.

the fact that the son of the president of a ceramics company, a confirmed regular member, had been visiting frequently; the fact that he had whispered some request and the Pastor had agreed to it.

the fact that he had received a considerable sum of money under the pretext of donations to the church. the fact that from that day onward, his attitude had completely changed and the evangelism movement was being noisily discussed, among other such matters. the fact that the Pastor himself was extremely busy, and he would often go secretly to the factory to preach. However, none of this concerned O-Matsu. She, equally with the other believers, was toiling diligently in evangelical preaching. There could be no possibility of error in anything the Lord did.

Ten o'clock had long since passed when O-Matsu, having finished her duties for the night, parted ways with the believers midway and turned into a dark alley to head home. When she was alone, Kinji's words pierced sharply into her chest. But each time O-Matsu recalled them, she made the sign of the cross and frantically tried to soften her feelings through the name of Lord Christ. Why on earth were those words—words I'd thought completely sealed away—now darting back and forth before me?... O-Matsu bit into them a little with vexed curiosity. But immediately she spat them out, made the sign of the cross again, and this time placed a weight to keep them from emerging. Yet even so, those words ceaselessly passed through O-Matsu's head...

Worrying about the Pastor laid up with an upset stomach, O-Matsu grew restless. Taking a shortcut to the front of the house, she found the lights extinguished and the windows darkly desolate. O-Matsu pushed at the door. She wondered if everyone had already fallen asleep. A noise came from the chapel. The Pastor must be holding his evening prayers, O-Matsu thought, and she muffled her footsteps as she walked down the hallway to avoid disturbing his devotions. Crash! The heavy sound of a chair overturning reverberated. A stifled giggle and a hushed voice scolding it reached her ears. The floorboards creaked underfoot. The thud of something striking the wall was followed by a pale shadow darting past like a fleeting dream. A choked laugh and a voice struggling to suppress it rose faintly louder.

“Ha ha ha ha, come over here.” “Amen, come here.” “It hurts! It hurts!” “Amen.” O-Matsu felt as though black blood were gushing from the crown of her head. Her chest tightened with stabbing pain; she thought her breathing might stop. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead. “...Ken? Isn’t that Ken?” “What are you doing?” “Mom...Hahaha...Amen...Amen...Hahahaha...” She came flying like a beast toward her mother. She wore nothing but a single loincloth.

“Amen… come… Amen…” “Where did it run off to?” “Is that you, Ms. O-Matsu?… Right now, a mouse…”

As O-Matsu’s hand groped for the switch, a man’s bare chest brushed against it. She jumped back two or three steps.

“You mustn’t turn on the light. “Because the mouse will get away, you see.” “I’ve gone to the trouble of chasing it this far.” “It must be in here.” “I’ll catch it with my bare hands.” “Listen.” “Ken-chan was making such a fuss that it must’ve run away…” In the darkness, the man’s fidgeting stood out conspicuously, rustling restlessly. His voice came out faltering and quivering.

“Amen, come on… Come on…” The white arm moved eerily, searching for the man.

“Ken! “Come on, let’s go. Come on.”

O-Matsu dragged her daughter along, as if cradling her body.

“That’s right. “You should get some sleep.” “I made too much noise, so you came out.” “By the way, Ms. O-Matsu, how was tonight’s evangelical sermon?” “Was the turnout good?”

A strangely hoarse, high-pitched voice came chasing after O-Matsu from inside the chapel. “...Yes, everything worked out conveniently—everyone was deeply concerned about the Pastor’s illness...” A surge of heat rushed up to the tip of her nose. O-Matsu kept her hands—their veins bulging—pressed to her chest and continued praying until dawn.

5

A man with sharp eyes, vulture-like, came visiting and, regarding Kinji’s activities, dug out everything O-Matsu knew with the chisel-like tip of his tongue.

After the man had left, the Pastor—who seemed to have been eavesdropping from the shadows—furrowed his brow with conspicuous vertical wrinkles and glared coldly at O-Matsu. “Mr. Kinji has gotten himself involved with quite a fine place, hasn’t he?” “And he calls himself a model worker?” “Now, if a man like that starts coming around the church, problems will arise among the believers.” “Ultimately, it’s an extremely troublesome matter that concerns the church’s reputation as well.” “Ms. O-Matsu, you must have this dealt with… After all, mud on a white wall stands out easily—”

The unpleasant words slapped O-Matsu’s cheeks sharply and repeatedly. There was no way Kinji could be involved in anything wrong— But given how that man had spoken when he came before… and if by any chance such a thing were true…

However, for O-Matsu, more than any concern for her son at this moment, it was the Pastor’s unfair attitude—so unlike his usual self—that hit her hardest. O-Matsu connected his restless behavior since that night, those eyes that regarded her and her child with displeasure, and this abrupt transformation of God’s nature—once all gentleness—to some sinister cause she wished not to confront. Though she strove to deny it, sporadic bursts of terror assailed her, leaving her shaken. No—in this sacred church, there could be no wrongdoing. It’s all my own groundless suspicions. Surely God—God only does what is right—that’s certain.

And so, O-Matsu frantically tried to find other causes for the Pastor’s displeasure. And so, she concluded that it must pertain solely to her son Kinji.

In any case, O-Matsu left the house to meet Kinji and confirm the story.

The back gate was packed with five or six workers. Inside the tilting fence, black heads were crammed tightly together. Someone raised a grimy arm and shouted. A roaring “Whoa!” erupted—a ground-shaking rumble like raging waves. Hands clapped thunderously. O-Matsu stood stunned by this spectacle at first. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked again. Brushing aside the hair clinging to her ears, she strained to catch what the man was saying. She straightened up and gripped the fence.

“Can I meet Kinji Tōyama?”

Finally, she asked one of the workers.

“Tōyama? Kinji? …Ah, the big bro from the Second Factory.” “Hmm, I’m busy now, but… Ah, let’s go check.” “Who’re you?” “Huh? You’re the mom?”

The young worker energetically dashed off. “Well, you see, as you can tell, we’re right in the thick of it… Mom, come over here and wait inside.”

The tall worker led O-Matsu, who was standing dazedly in the street, to the vacant lot beside him.

“What in the world is this commotion about?” “Is it a fight?”

The man’s friendly tone in calling her “Mom” had unconsciously drawn O-Matsu closer to him. A thunderous cheer erupted, followed by stomping and applause. A hammering, booming voice was shouting from behind.

“We’ve been on strike since yesterday, y’know. “This time—this time, I ain’t lettin’ my demands get ignored no more. “We ain’t fallin’ into their hands again! “We’ll beat ’em down…”

“Oh, you came, Mom. What’s the matter?”

A face glistening with sweat kept heaving breath after breath. “So you actually listened to what I said and finally crawled outta that fox den?” “...Police came sniffin’ around, grillin’ us about every damn thing you’ve done—so...”

“What! So that’s all? Let the damn dogs sniff around for shit all they want. …I thought… I thought you’d actually come to your senses, Mom…”

The smile that had been lingering at the corners of his mouth vanished, and Kinji kicked at the dirt with the tips of his toes in frustration.

“The Lord’s grace is profound… how could you even…”

“You’re still saying that? Soon—yeah, soon—when someone grabs those bastards’ sloppily dangling tails, that’s when it’ll happen. Open your damn eyes, Mom—watch those bastards close. Got it? Grab their tails. …Go home today. I’m swamped. Wash off that priest-stink clinging to you before comin’ back.”

Kinji lightly tapped his mother’s small shoulder with his hand.

“Take care of yourself.”

O-Matsu, oddly on the verge of tears, started walking without looking back.

A roaring "Whoa!"—shouts clashed inside the fence.

6

For the past week, the intellectually disabled daughter had been wasting away, barely eating and lying around listlessly—and on the night she finally took to her bed, she wailed through violent abdominal pains as she told her mother. In the dead of night, she vomited dark liquid again and again. Every time she went to the toilet, she bled terribly. She let out an anguished cry and begged for help. O-Matsu held her daughter, lifted her up, laid her down to rest, and nursed her until she herself was covered in blood.

Amid this commotion, the Pastor in the neighboring room made no move to get up. But O-Matsu was so absorbed that she even forgot his presence. As she kept rubbing her eyes, the doctor finally arrived. On his way out, he whispered from within his deeply furrowed brow: "I'm not a specialist, so I can't say for certain—but your daughter's done something awful. She was properly pregnant but seems to have taken abortion pills." "This is terrible." "Absolutely dreadful." "You must have a specialist examine her." "Hurry now. Quickly..."

The old doctor fled in haste like a timid mouse. It was as though she had been struck on the crown of her head with a large mallet—clang! A crimson flame burned inside her chest. Her field of vision was uniformly covered by a whitish cloth. She understood nothing. Everything… everything… But soon, a stream of cold water cut through her agitation.

“Ken, Kenbō—what on earth did you do?” “Try telling me everything.” “Come on, try telling me…”

With the whites of her eyes showing, the daughter smiled. “Come on, Ken, try to tell me. Why…” “…Amen. Amen…”

Suddenly, amidst her intense anguish, the daughter raised her index finger and pointed toward the neighboring room. A tearful laugh followed.

“...The Pastor?” “Ken… Amen?”

A black lump lodged in her throat. “It’s true.” “Bastard! It’s true!” “Doing such a thing… such…”

Her pale, parched lips trembled dryly. The old woman’s eyes blazed like fire. Her fingers grasped at empty air.

“Fox!” “Fox!” “Fox!”

O-Matsu’s foot kicked open the sliding door.

Pastor Ono sat dejectedly on his futon, still in his nightclothes. “A pastor’s nothing but a fox!” “A weasel!” “They’re all shams!” “God is a monster!” “A huge fraud!” “I’ve spent thirteen years praying for a miracle to happen to my daughter.” “But look what happened!” “What the hell has God done for my daughter?” “My daughter was impregnated and even forced to take abortion pills.” “My daughter is on the verge of death.” I finally understand now what Kinji was saying. He wasn’t saying anything wrong. “Your tail’s showing.” “I’ve got a firm grip on that big tail of yours.” “You’re hiding behind the Bible to commit your wicked deeds.” “Acting all high and mighty while doing whatever you please.” “The first pastor used us mother and child as stepping stones to climb the ranks.” “The second bastard kept embezzling donations and offerings.” “That bastard’s hobby was buying prostitutes—he loved women that much.”

“In the end, he ran off with another man’s wife.” “And what about you, the next one?” “You laid hands on my daughter and even tried to kill her.” “I still know.” “There’s no reason you’d throw yourself into evangelistic sermons.” “Aren’t the officials just egging you on behind the scenes?” “I know.” “I know.” “If they make you grab money, God’ll take on any deed.” “Christ is a lie!” “You’re an actor!” “That cross—the cross is deceiving everyone’s eyes…”

O-Matsu started running.

Blue moonlight streamed through the chapel.

At the center of the altar, the cross showed a golden outline.

O-Matsu pushed aside the chair and ran.

Like a ghost, the pale face of the pastor appeared soundlessly in the doorway. “You’ve deceived me all this time.” “That sickly-sweet voice of yours injects poison into people’s hearts—that’s your real job.” “The paradise you led us to has nothing but foxes and raccoon dogs coming and going!” “We’re just meat for them to devour.” “You’re a fraud!” “A fraud!”

O-Matsu’s eyes, glaring at the altar, shone white. She scrambled up onto it. She tore off the cross. With every ounce of her strength focused, she stomped on it, kicked it, slammed it down. Clang! Emitting a dull metallic sound, it struck the organ with force.

“Aaaaaaah!”

The pale face in the doorway let out a low groan and collapsed.

“Ken, come on, let’s go to your brother’s place.” “I’m gonna work my hardest from now on—get you into a hospital and make you a proper person.” “Come on, let’s go.” “Ken dear…”

Holding her unresponsive daughter’s slender frame, O-Matsu walked briskly under the sparsely starry sky.