Pathway to Japanese Literature

I was playing a silver transverse flute engraved with circular flower patterns in arabesque style,

…………………

Ah, this was it—

From the grasslands of Normandy
With the oars of the serpentine vessel aligned
Valiantly
Crossing waves, then battling waves
Arrived at the land that curses the moon
Descendants of Gascony
………………
I sang.
My fingertips, marking each musical phrase, danced like fish upon the moonlight reflected from the flower-patterned flute.—The moonlit road was too bright.
The silhouette of me playing the flute was so clearly outlined on the ground that it appeared as though another accompanist had stepped ahead of me to ford the water.
Wondering just where the moon had halted its journey, I continued playing my flute incessantly while looking up at the sky behind me—but the sky simply stretched endlessly in all directions, pale and bright, offering no finger to point out the moon’s whereabouts.
Hanging upside down and treading the sky—I, in an endless eternal dreamlike state akin to moonlight that knows neither the joy of traversing heavens nor the sorrow of touching earth, gradually quickened my pace.
Through the long corridor laid out in hazy, dimly bright smoke like striped onyx—

Just now, from the platform of the fish-watch tower where I worked, I extended my telescope to survey the village and saw vigorous flames from a bonfire rising before our izakaya at the bridge’s foot. Beside it, shadow figures—indistinguishable as to who was who, their heads black-capped like those transformed by foxes—were waving fists and leaping about as they filed into the tavern one after another. This must surely be the arrival of the sake barrel shipment from Otonashi Village that we had been craning our necks awaiting…

“Bravo! Bravo!”

And I—raising a cheer and waving my fist before I knew it—came sliding down the long ladder, some thirty-odd feet in height, as smoothly as if gliding through butter.

Though the fish-watch tower’s ladder was climbed up and down countless times each day, it was truly rare to have descended so joyfully.
Moreover, how many months had passed since Saipan’s sake barrels had emptied?
When I counted on my fingers, that was indeed the time of the fifteenth night’s full moon viewing banquet.
When our banquet was just reaching its peak,

“Gah!”

A despairing groan—shaken by extraordinary terror—arose from the corner of the tavern; when I looked, there was Saipan’s proprietor, gripping a barrel’s spout in one hand and dangling a mug from the other, collapsing with his own scream.

“Father… Father…”

Accompanied by the transverse flute I played and the accordion performed by my wife, with Mei at the center shaking her tambourine, the tavern crowd had formed a ring hand-in-hand dancing the karl—when upon hearing her father’s groan, the daughter leapt over the crowd like a pheasant and clung to him.

“Has another great earthquake struck?!”
Startled, they readjusted their stances—only to discover the pitiful cause in the next instant.

“Clunk!”
The spout made an indescribably strange sound as it rang out. “…Ah! All is lost!”

Surrounded by us, Saipan remained clutching his daughter, doing nothing but jabbing at his eye socket with one hardened fist.

I let out a dry laugh,

“Bring Dorian from the stable—I’ll rush to Otonashi Village straightaway and procure three barrels of sake.”

Puffing out his chest, he pointed toward the rear at Mei.

“If I go handle this, everything will be fine—within an hour, I’ll have Saipan’s tavern buried under a mountain of sake barrels with no room left. Everyone, clear those stools over there and widen the circle to keep dancing the karl—tonight’s moon viewing will have us sitting atop sake barrels…”

“To harbor unease at my words is a worry more foolish than Caledonian pirates dreaming of defeat upon setting forth.”

However, Mei had already buried her face in the chest of her father—who had donned a demonic death mask and closed his eyes—and was only shaking her head vehemently.

“Bankruptcy—I might as well die…”

Saipan groaned weakly.

Even though I’d said this much, I still couldn’t fathom its true nature—so I puffed out my chest even more confidently,

“Hey, everyone!”

I looked back at their faces.
Drawing strength from their cheers and resolved to make laughter blossom in this strange tragic scene between father and daughter, I continued in an even more hearty voice:

“To wail so pitifully before us over two or three empty sake barrels—why, that’s like trampling our very dignity! Hahaha... Ugh, what a miserably unfunny farce this nonsense play has become.”
“Hmph, hmph...”

“I envy those with wine who find drunkenness at hand,
I envy those without coin who yet walk free of care.
………………
Bring Dorian—bring Dorian…”

He vigorously raised his arm in exhortation, yet not a single person among the group uttered so much as a word.—When observed, they merely stood like the Five Hundred Arhats, endlessly raising their hollow, gleaming eyes to various points in the sky.

Before long, I was told that all sake wholesalers in nearby regions had agreed to refuse all business with us as long as Saipan kept us as regular customers.
If I were made to sing such a song again—with even tears welling in their chests—the group involuntarily shook their heads in unison and were sucked into a vortex of disillusionment.
When they heard my poem, it was said their hair stood on end.
If we continued without money yet remained carefree and got drunk, even we would soon have to flee our beloved hometown—this was what brought me to tears.

“Shut up, you fool!”

In a burst of anger that shattered my own fervor, I inadvertently struck the fisherman Shichiroumaru’s head with a thwack.

“…………”

A teardrop like a marble plopped from Shichiroumaru’s eye and rolled down.
This was not because my fist had hurt him, but because the chasm between my “eternal dream” and reality proved pitiful, stirring sympathy too unbearable to endure.

“Teacher!”

He spoke with the bearing of a soldier truly accepting reprimand.
“We’ve strained every method until today to keep Saipan’s barrels filled—thinking not to show this sorrow to Teacher—but…”

Then sighs and stifled sobs arose from all around, and the tavern was suddenly transformed into a bleak autumn field.

“Shichiroumaru, you mustn’t say such things to Teacher…”

Mei leapt up and clamped both hands over Shichiroumaru’s mouth.

“Quiet, Bāabāaru—if that’s how it is, then I’ve got a plan of my own.”

I too nearly burst into tears, so I shouted in a trembling voice.
With my shout, the group recovered their composure as if regaining their senses and had no choice but to return to their seats with a clatter.
Saipan also regained consciousness and, while being supported by Mei, stoked the stove’s fire.

I jumped onto the front sake serving counter where hung the portrait of Idaria I had once painted myself, swinging both legs back and forth,

“Now then, gentlemen—pray forgive my earlier harsh words.”

I declared with a clearing of my throat.—Twice weekly at dusk, here in this very place, I would lecture them on “Greek Philosophy.”—The cosmic essence was neither mere fire nor mere water, but rather a great waterwheel where all things eternally turned amidst sprays of fire and water; sprays that ceaselessly scattered through chaotic voids, shadows retreating as light pierced through—at times snow-clear skies and cloudless north winds chilling, light and shadow, fire and water—in this dazzling cycle lay the universe’s secret mysteries, ecstasy born, a spiritual baptism of becoming... It had been spring two years prior when I shattered the bedrock of primitive philosophy—those grandiose fabrications that sufficed so long as one spoke grandly—and painstakingly expounded my way past Plato’s fields, soared beyond Aristotle’s streets, until matters began shifting toward medieval battlefields. From that point, the boundary between philosophy and art became hopelessly muddled, and recently I had transformed into a Sophist who cleverly extracted lecture fees from students by peddling mainly chivalric romances as reading material.

“Hey, quiet down, everyone!—Back in those days among knights, shouting ‘Bāabāaru’ became popular to express such meaning; tracing its origin, it signified ‘non-Greek people,’ eventually coming to be used equivalently to a kind of barbarian.”
“Thus arose an unwritten law: those subjected to this word had no choice but to retreat without a single utterance…”

I had laid bare such erudition, and before long it had come into common use among us.
In return for seldom uttering reckless proclamations, no matter who they were or what justification they might have had, once this was cried out against them, they were compelled to bow down before a baptism of silence.

I—in Otonashi Village just one cape beyond—had a ruthless sake brewer from my ancestral family’s lineage residing there; through that bastard’s schemes I suffered every manner of harm—nay, it was by his doing that I was reduced to this shameful vagabond state. Therefore, if something can be stolen, I see no sin in stealing it back. However, here I resolved to wield my utmost ingenuity—through Socratic dialectic eloquence—to persuade that brewer and make him open his storehouse door without resistance, yet—

“Even so, gentlemen—would you cast clouds of anxiety upon tonight’s moon?”

And I, brandishing Demosthenes-like eloquence against Philip of Macedonia, became a demon of passion. Feeling my throat ache, I grabbed the nearby water bucket—it was Dorian's feed water! Though warned, I burned with such vigorous emotional intensity that I gulped it down regardless.

"Mr. Happy Pendulum!"

The one who called my nickname and rose was the village bailiff.
"Regrettably, that method proves a strategy more futile than shooting arrows at bedrock."
"The Otonashi household has already instructed their gatekeeper to shut that black door and throw its latch the instant he spies any of our gang..."

Before he could finish speaking, he gasped in despair and retreated.

That door! And that latch!
It was indeed no different from an unyielding symbol that mocked the frailty of human strength once shut.

“Yesterday I went with Saipan to negotiate, but…”

Next stood Gontarou the cattle herder.
“I knocked on that door till my fist near split.”
“Then the lookout window above opened—the gatekeeper stuck out his mug asking ‘Come with money bags?’ We said no! We’d brought proposals weightier than any coin! Just open the blasted gate! Right as we clung to the windowsill—fiercer than Teacher’s fancy talk—he laughed raw: ‘Master says jingle your purses here, that’s the signal to open!’ So he…”

“Then I shall first attempt a dialogue with the gatekeeper. I’ve come bearing urgent business from a family council meeting—summon your master……”

“No, no—”

Saipan waved his hand like a specter.
“If they spot Pendulum, they’re to shut every window and door without hesitation before a single word can reach them—plug their ears with wax! That scoundrel’s mastered peculiar flute trickery and silver-tongued deception—any listener’s heart gets ensnared…”

“Bāabāaru… What in creation should we do about this?”

Though Saipan merely relayed the Otonashi brewer’s words, I found myself glaring at him.
“What an insufferably rude wretch!”

I wandered deep in contemplation with my arms heavily crossed for a short while, but no favorable considerations ever surfaced, and before I knew it, I let out a sigh.

“In the end… Is there really no other way but to make money bags?”

When someone murmured this—suddenly, the tavern erupted in a battle cry as if Spartan assemblymen had risen to pass the motion to subjugate Athens—

“That’s right, that’s right!” and “We’ve been holding our breath waiting for Teacher to make that decision!” they shouted—some flinging their hats, others waving their coats like flags.

“In other words, starting tomorrow, I too shall cease my lectures and work, but…”

Wondering why the group was raising such vehement cries of agreement, I tried to continue speaking—but they, already in a frenzy without heeding my words at all, swarmed around me in an instant,

“Lectures are canceled—hooray!”

“The suspension of lectures holds more merit than being unable to drink sake.”

While shouting such things, they suddenly began a more splendid karl dance than before.
Since everyone had become so worked up that no one remained to listen to anyone’s words, I approached my wife—who had begun playing the accordion—

“What in the world is this about? I haven’t announced any schemes from my heart yet!”

When I asked this, my wife explained amidst her whistling:

—For matters had reached such a dire state that if my lectures continued for even one more month, not only Saipan but every last youth in the village would face disownment—this because whenever lectures ended, I would invariably adopt those preposterous Sophist airs and drink, drink, drink, until it all consumed exorbitant lecture fees, so family quarrels raged ceaselessly in household after household, until the situation threatened to erupt into full-blown village turmoil.

“So that’s how it was!”

And I was struck by deep emotion; even so, I couldn’t help but sympathize with their profound resentment.

Ever since then, I was employed at R Fishery's lookout tower, climbing up and down the long ladder day after day countless times.
Saipan and Mei closed the shop and took up positions as cafeteria staff at the fishery.
We installed a sturdy-locked strongbox in a corner of Saipan's shop, dreaming of the sake barrels' arrival while fishermen ventured to the open sea, cattle herders to the pastures beyond the mountains, and tenant farmers to the fields—all diligently applying themselves to their work. At dusk when they returned with their day's wages, they tossed a portion into Saipan's box and prayed to Bacchus.
...Counting one step after another, there were exactly eighty-eight rungs on that long ladder. Even I—who had abandoned my vocation as a Sophist—became a devotee who diligently climbed up and down day and night while yearning for the distant dream of urgent sake, performing hundredfold devotions at Saipan's offering box.

The citrus harvest had ended, and the distant mountains were crowned with patchy snow.
A few days ago, Mei came up to my room,

“The offering box has become too heavy for me to lift with my strength anymore.”

She displayed uncontainable joy.

“The day when your tambourine’s bells will be heard has finally drawn near, I see.”
“Oh, whether it’s the jingle-jangle of bells or the clink of money bags, I can hear it clearly in my ears.”

I sat Mei on my lap and mused, “I wonder if it’s already this heavy.”

“Take this for me—it’s heavy.”

Hearing my flute’s sound, my wife came running out. She had strapped an accordion with bands to her back like a mountaineer’s pack.

“It appears they’ve arrived at last.”

“Yes—I saw Saipan and Mr. Gontarou pulling a wagon toward Otonashi Village earlier.”

“If that’s how it stands, then there ought to have been some word reaching us here too…”

“I mean to show them an unforeseen spectacle and give them the shock of their lives—I’m absolutely resolved to!”

I linked arms with my wife and glided smoothly through the moonlight.

But when I stepped into Saipan’s tavern, I discovered an unforeseen sight.
Under the dim lamplight, the group surrounding the round table piled with nothing but dust sat in crow-like distraction, each merely contemplating their own world-weary forms.
And when they noticed my entrance, they all turned their faces away and squirmed toward the darkness like ground moles.

I went through the difficulty of questioning them as though interrogating foreigners who didn’t speak my language, and when I finally managed to learn the reason, it turned out that today—with the time having finally ripened—Saipan had led several people carrying money bags to visit the Otonashi residence, only to—

They arrived at the Otonashi residence’s gate with fierce momentum and shouted, “We, Pendulum’s comrades, have come bearing these massive money bags to buy sake! Now open this gate!”

Having shouted this, they all clinked their money bags vigorously, creating a metallic jingle like shrine bells being rung.
Then from the lookout window’s opening, a demon-like arm suddenly thrust out,

“Let me count them… Well now…”

After receiving each bag one by one and making them wait quite a while, the gatekeeper finally showed only his face,

“You’ve worked hard. This money suffices—for Saipan’s rent, Shichiroumaru’s boat rental fee, Pendulum’s citrus field tax advance—it’s sufficient to repay all those debts."
“Should you bring another set of money bags of the same amount, we shall sell you the sake.”

“That and this are entirely different matters! The terms were clear from the start…”

The group rushed at the window in panic, but it snapped shut in an instant, leaving only a single kite soaring in great circles across the sky. —All because they had heeded my words, everything had vanished like bubbles.

“Let’s storm in.”

I let out a mad cry and smashed the empty sake bottle against the table.

“The plan is thus.”

I whispered something to each of my comrades in turn.

Pharamond! Pharamond!

We shall take up swords and wield axes to fight!

Sweat flowing from brows cascades down arms like waterfalls—

On the yellow foothills, the eagle released a cry of joy.

Crows swim in the sea of blood flowing from the dead.

The open sea bears the wounds of the injured.

The shepherd boys wept for a long time.

Pharamond! Pharamond! O our king!

Our fathers vanished like morning dew on the battlefield.
The valiant ones of wild eagles too kept weeping.
They lamented even as they grieved.
Fight and fight, and at triumph's dawning hour,
We shall each claim brides of our choosing,
That their milk may fill our descendants' hearts—
May it become blood coursing with courage.
O time flows onward.
Now upon the eaves we shall smile.
Pharamond!

…………………

I played the Normandy pirates’ battle song on my transverse flute.
And then I mounted Dorian.
During that time, three wagons loaded with weapons were prepared, and fifteen riders boarded them, setting off in silence.

When I looked back, my wife and Mei were waving their arms vigorously.
When I raised my flute high in response, the shadows stretched out like long spears, seeming to reach their chests.
The moon seemed about to sink behind the shadow of the mountain ahead.

When we reached the hilltop overlooking the roof of the Otonashi residence, I drew an American Indian ash bow to its full moon-like limit from horseback and let it fly with a twang. The arrow bearing a scrap of poetry traced a trajectory indistinguishable from a meteor’s and landed on the pyramid-shaped roof.

“But this fold flow'ret climbs thehill,

"Hides in the forest, hunts the glen,

Plays on the margin of rill,

‘Peep down the fox’s den…’

‘We’ve come to collect the sake—the Happy Pendulum brotherhood.’"

They wrapped grass around the wheel tracks and changed from boots into sandals; the first five riders slung mountaineering ropes over their shoulders, the next five hauled out five pulleys of varying sizes, levers, and a hand-pushed two-wheeled cart, while the remainder donned horsehide gloves and prepared bamboo swords.

“We are the Otonashi family’s valued customers who’ve come all this way to purchase sake. As previously agreed, let’s shed our battle-ready spirits here on this hill—now, let’s tread the moonlit path.”

And we circled around to the rear of the Otonashi residence where five white-walled sake storehouses stood in a row—having the bailiff Hyouda Yasukesuke knock on the back gate’s latch.

“I am an attorney from the city who has come at the request of the Pendulum family to inspect your esteemed household’s assets.”
“If you do not summon the master, I—as one who holds the right to affix seizure red notices to these five sake storehouses without exception—shall have no choice but to do so.”

When I ascertained that the sliding door had opened and Yasukesuke’s figure had been swallowed by the darkness, I pointed to the tip of the fir tree towering majestically beside the wall of the third sake storehouse,

“Rope!”

I gave the command.

The rope, with the force of a tornado, cut through the air and entangled itself in the treetop that reached the roof of the sake warehouse when gazed up at.
Two ropes, three ropes... No sooner did each successive rope catch on the branches than we darted from limb to limb with the swiftness of flying birds.

I lowered a single rope tipped with a large iron hook to the ground between the sake storehouses, attached a large pulley to the rope’s midpoint, and secured it to a thick branch resembling a crossbeam. Outside, five leather-gloved individuals grasped one end of the rope and were waiting for our signal. Performing such aerial stunts atop trees of this height was as child’s play to us, accustomed as we were to working at R Fishery’s eighty-eight-step fish lookout tower. While shielding my forehead from the dazzling moonlight filtering through the trees, I peered intently at the main house—until before long, five or six figures holding two lanterns aloft stealthily advanced toward the sake storehouses.

Tano Ryuukichi, the university student who had debased himself as a tax collector, was seen urgently directing the lantern bearer with sharp gestures and pointing fingers here and there. Moreover, Bailiff Hyouda could be observed extracting a hefty document from his satchel and, while advancing, fastidiously annotating various notes with a pencil.

In truth, I—who through innumerable reasons held massive claims against this household on our behalf—could have readily served a "payment order" had I given way to anger; indeed, I had been supremely incensed at this household since long ago. Yet when it came time to proclaim that wrath, I came to realize that without first depositing such-and-such reserve funds with the authorities, the law could provide no remedy.
Of course, there was no possibility such reserve funds had ever been within my grasp.

When they reached the sake storehouse door, the master of Otonashi—who seemed to hang his head in despondency—slowly undid the latch and pushed open the double doors with a creak.
That sound I heard clearly in the shadow of the treetops.

After a short while had passed, the sake barrels were finally loaded by two men and carried out one after another—two, three, five.

There, they hung high lanterns, intending for the tax collector and agricultural technician to inspect the quality of the five varieties of sake.
Meanwhile, Bailiff Hyouda was supposed to inspect the brewing volume and demonstrate his intent for “seizure.”

When stools were carried under the lanterns, the sake barrels were arranged by Tano's instructions precisely in the open space below us.

Tano and Hyouda sat down side by side on stools before the bonfire.
And before the two men, large cups were set.

The two solemnly drained a single cup first.

Since this was meant to be our "ready" signal, Shichiroumaru and Gontarou moved along the treetops under leaf cover, leapt down like the wind to the sake storehouse's shadow, and held their breath.

I watched their movements with sweat-slicked hands when—inexplicably—neither Tano nor Hyouda showed any sign of rising, instead pouring themselves four or five more cups.

“It failed!”

I muttered.
“Poor things—the two of them must have been tempted by the long-awaited aroma of sake and forgotten all sense of time and place.”

As expected, the two gradually took on Pendulum’s escalating fervor and began to look as though they might burst into song.

Realizing there was no more time to spare—if those two got drunk there, the entire plan would fall apart—the moment this struck me, I leapt from branch to branch without delay and abruptly landed beside the bonfire with a crash.

“Hah!”

As I shouted, upon seeing the master of Otonashi—who had inadvertently dropped his sake gourd—turn as pale as translucent white plaster, I...

“We flew through the sky and came to collect the sake barrels.”
“We clipped the notice to a Shirohato arrow and delivered it to the rooftop.”

Having said that, I rubbed my chest and ostentatiously thrust my hand toward the master.
And I let out a booming laugh.

“Burglars!”
“With scoundrels who sneak in under night’s cloak by scaling fences, I’ve no means to conduct business!”

“As recompense for making us stretch our arms through the coward’s window to let them pillage our coin purses, we’ve come to claim the sake barrels.”

“Had you approached through the gate as proper guests, we might have drawn the bolt.”

“With the scheme to carry them out even by force, we boldly knocked on the gate! What’s there to conceal? Those three officials waiting there are guides for your precious patrons!”

Then the master turned to the men at his side,

“Put a bolt on the back gate and release the guard dogs—”

he ordered.
The four men immediately ran toward the back.
And then, the master let out a gloomy, booming laugh—a perfect imitation of my earlier sneer—dripping with sarcasm,

“Now that you’ve heard this much, you lot are no better than rats in a sack—though I must say my chest tightened when I heard ‘bailiff’… What’s this sorry state? Getting dazed on free-flowing sake and ending up like this…”

He clutched his sides in laughter.

The bailiffs, now truly transformed into a great pendulum worthy of that mockery, their eyes fixed in place, betrayed us as they drifted into oblivion.

“Come now, come now—if you can take as many sake barrels as you please straight from this spot without restraint, why not help yourself? What do you say?”

“Say it again.”

Having struggled repeatedly with his cowardly nature before, I pressed the point while retrieving a paper scrap from Hyouda’s satchel.

“Go on—write that document.”

I deliberately made the demand with mock levity.

“Then I’ll write it!”

He picked up a brush,

“If you’re to move these sake barrels before the moon clouds over… then?”

While reading aloud such terms, he effortlessly drafted an utterly antic contract,

“My mansion is splendidly surrounded by this dense grove of trees—a fortress unconcerned with the moon’s whereabouts. Should you require it, shall I lend you tall lanterns?”

As he went on like this, I let out another meaningless, cavernous laugh that hinted at a Jay-like call—whereupon Shichiroumaru and Gontarou, who had been sneaking closer with stealthy steps, firmly clamped the hooks at the rope ends onto the sake barrels’ hanging cords.

With fighting spirit, I sensed this and turned to the master—who was thrusting out his chin in spiteful mockery—
“Whether clouds come or not, we won’t wait a moment—”
I boomed at full volume,
“I’ll show you this instant by magnificently carrying them out! You’d best watch closely!”
No sooner had he shouted than he drew the transverse flute from his waist,

“Tattoo Tattoo Tattoo!”

And blew it at its highest pitch.

Just as responding voices swelled up in a roar from beyond the wall, and the creaking of pulleys in the treetops above screeched shrilly and magnificently like a fiddle’s accompaniment, a sake barrel resembling the head of the Great Buddha soared high into the air.

As the barrel gave a single heave in midair, a long pole with a three-pronged hook appeared from beyond the wall, and together with the rope that slowly slackened its tension, in the blink of an eye, their shadows vanished into the moonlit abyss ahead.
No sooner had the second rope been thrown down from the treetops alongside it than, at the immediate Tattoo signal, the second barrel floated into the air—Pull, pull, pull!

Gazing up at the sake barrels hanging from branches that could be mistaken for a giant beehive, I momentarily immersed myself in this world's most bizarre spectacle—a demonic ecstatic baptism—then, driven by dreams of northern barbarians who worshiped the moon, unintentionally cried out:

"Divine grace! Divine grace!"

While praying thus, I prostrated myself beneath them.

The sake barrels glistened with golden halos as they emitted a terrifying white light.
And then,

"Clara, Clara, Claraclux, Claraclux!"

They emitted a sound that went, “Clara, Clara, Claraclux, Claraclux!”

“Oh, that is the laughter emitted by the statue of Zeus when Emperor Caligula of Rome attempted to carry it out from Apollo’s temple and touched its hand! —To think we would hear the august booming laughter of Zeus’s statue here in Otonashi Forest—what a marvelous wonder!”

(Note: Legend holds that those who behold the visage of the Zeus statue and hear its booming laughter shall be blessed with happiness. Another account claims the statue embodies the pinnacle of artistic creation—anyone who glimpses it shall come to harbor within their breast an inexhaustible spring of eternal joy.)

Legend holds that those who behold the visage of the Zeus statue and hear the reverberation of its booming laughter shall be blessed with happiness. Another account claims the statue embodies the pinnacle of artistic creation—anyone who glimpses it shall come to harbor within their breast an inexhaustible spring of eternal joy.

“Clara, Claraclux, Clara…”

A strange, booming laughter echoed resonantly from treetop to treetop, rising and falling, then flew straight toward the moon’s halo.

“Teacher, why are you shedding such precious tears in a place like this?”

Shichiroumaru urged me.

“But can’t you hear that voice of Zeus…? Oh, it grows fainter by the moment.”

“That is the shrieking voices of the Otonashi family members fleeing in astonishment at our stratagem.”

Being told this, I turned to look and saw lanterns darting back and forth through the thicket stretching from the sake warehouse to the main house—their movements intermingling with the distant howls of dogs as the astonished screams of panicked people scattered like a blizzard.

“If the pursuers come, it’ll be troublesome.
“Please hook your legs onto the hook, Teacher—is that alright?”
“Tattoo!”

When Shichiroumaru whistled the signal, this time, instead of the sake barrels, my body floated lightly into the air.

“The bailiff and tax collector have gotten dead drunk—they’re not even trying to move now, are they?”

“Hook onto the band and rescue them—don’t think of them as traitors—you must leap onto the fifth rope and vault over the sake warehouse’s roof!”
“Ah, how amusing! How amusing!”

Having said that, with the feeling of truly transforming into the pendulum of the great lunar clock, I swung high and low, gradually increasing my amplitude to draw as large an arc in midair as possible.

“Tattoo Tattoo”

Before I knew it, I was already leaning against Saipan's sake barrel, indulging in a post-drunken nap.

Tattoo Tattoo !

O Pharamon! O Pharamon!

And upon our triumphant return at dawn,

In a corner of the sake pouring stand, an old-fashioned music box began to play a spirited military song.

This automatic organ related to my donation was a small box covered entirely in tanned leather with silver-painted red verbena and gilded golden trumpet creepers, but as it produced an exceptionally loud sound, Mei used it as a substitute for a calling bell to rouse from their dreams the drunkards who would forget to return home and fall into deep sleep.

When struck by the barrel organ's sound—loud-soft-loud-soft—pounding out its utterly primal, drenched rhythm (though none but I knew the lyrics—), no matter how ferociously drunkards might have been sleeping, it became customary for them to snap awake in an instant.

When I saw people rising slowly and laboriously from behind that barrel and this barrel, it meant that all my comrades—having grown weary of their staggering dreams—now intended to splendidly dance the karl once more to the accompaniment of my wife’s and my duet, thereby concluding tonight’s festivities.

Still—how much of those events had been my dream, or whether the very concept of a dream was my own deception—to discern this, my head still intoxicated by the scorched aroma of sake had no choice but to wait until tomorrow at the earliest.
If all those events had been but a dream, I hold the desire to once more compile this account into a story and lay it bare before you, my dear comrades.

In any case, the fact remains that these sake barrels were not acquired through ordinary means.

…………………

Time flows on.

Now, under the eaves, let us smile.

“Tattoo Tattoo!”

“Oh dear, your business here is quite finished! Everyone’s awakened in excellent spirits and now intends to dance the karl together once more—thank you ever so much, my dear Bāabāaru!”

Mei murmured as if speaking to a living creature and, hugging the music box to her cheek, pressed the stop button.

Suddenly, I looked up at the sky in the direction of the cape from the window and saw—amidst a light as white and bright as daytime—the fishing scaffold standing forlornly at a height nearly grazing the moon.
It appeared dimly before me like a landscape from some unknown country.