Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Tower, and other pieces - 5. Forever Full
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Forever Full
or Hotei-sama and the Elderly Couple
O mukashi no hanashi, nan desu kedo…. But once upon a time there was a very old couple who lived way up in the North Country, in a high mountain valley where ancient cherry trees grew. The old man was a cabinetmaker, turning the local wood from the cherry grove into small and useful things, like portable chests, and vanities to hold a lady's mirror.
One year the summer was so cold and wet that all the crops failed, and the old man couldn't exchange his wares for food, simply because there wasn't any to be had, and to make matters worse, his elderly wife had been gravely sick for a very long time. The old man had to stay by her side all hours of the day and night, and because of it hadn't made any furniture for many months.
When winter came their supply of rice was low, and by the time the last week of the year approached, the old woman was no better and their food was almost gone. The old man had no other choice, and the day before New Years he sadly emptied his wife's little chest of drawers. It was the only piece of furniture they had left, the chest he had made when they were young to seal the promise of a lifetime's love. She had accepted it along with his marriage offer.
He turned the last bit of rice into a porridge, which he left by his wife's side. He brought wood by the hearth and told her he'd probably be back before the fire needed stoking. He knew it was a lie, but he wanted her to think he was nearby, when in reality he had to travel down the mountain half a day to the closest big town where he could sell the chest and buy food, and if he were lucky, medicine.
He wrapped the beautiful cherry-wood chest in a big scarf and set off. He paced through the snow as fast as hunger and desperation would allow. When he was out of the valley, a great forest started, and in the middle was a crossroads. The path he was following went down into the city, the cross trail headed off to the sea. This was his journey's halfway mark, and since the road from here had snow that was well packed, he sat down to have a rest.
The old man must have drifted off, for he awoke with a start. His first impulse was to look for the chest. To his surprise he saw a fat man unwrapping it. His figure was a sight to behold; he had a huge head with great floppy earlobes, and was smooth from head to foot, this he could tell because although deep in winter this man wore only a light, pale blue frock, open at his waist to show an enormous belly. He even carried a fan tucked under his arm to cool himself down, while by his side was a sack big enough to take even his bulk in. His face was jolly, and when he only slightly cracked a smile, it lit up with a compelling force that made all seers helplessly join in.
"How much do you want for it?" The stranger looked over the corners of the chest.
The man almost answered 'a bag of rice,' but he caught himself, all his bartering skills instantly returning.
"For that," he said, as if in deep consideration, "I'll have to get at least ten gold pieces, for that." The old man expected a happy sale to the obviously affluent gentleman.
"Oh," the huge man laughed. "Good luck." He set the chest down disinterestedly.
"Wait," the old man cried. "If you like it, we can come to some kind of agreement."
"No. No, I do not have the time, for my boat sails tonight, and I've got to hie me down to the sea. The others are waiting! Tonight is out busiest night of the year."
The old man didn't know what he was talking about, but he didn't want him to go. He opened his mouth, however the large man laughed and spoke for him.
"Well, I'll tell you what...." He fished around in his bundle. "I'll give you this magic mochi rice in exchange – but only on the condition that you must use it to pound mochi, and mochi only. Plus you have to use it all at one time, letting none go to waste. If you do as I say, Good Fortune will follow you every meal of your life."
"But…" the old man protested.
"Good! I knew you'd come to your senses." He tossed to the old man a small white bag of rice. "Well, I've got to be going." And the chest disappeared into his bag like a snowflake on a mound of snow.
By the time the old man came to realize what happened, the big man had long gone down the path to the sea. Confused, and worried about his wife, he started home. He checked on her and built up the fire, and then he had no other choice but to make the mochi as directed. He pulled out the pestle and in the twilight pounded the rice into a thick paste, but because of the poor light and his weary state, he didn't see the little balls that flew out of the mortar and littered the ground. When he was finished, he gathered up the glob from the grinding bowl to take indoors and with it make New Years offerings to the gods.
He rolled small balls the size of cherries and formed them around a well-gnarled cherry branch. When he had finished, the large twig was filled with fruit-like mochi. He hung the completed offering over the hearth in a place his wife could see; it was their sole holiday decoration.
After he had fallen asleep, the moonlight drifted through a rip in the window and shone on the branch, and outside, on the forgotten scraps too. Only when it lit the parts separated from the whole, a strange thing happened; they suddenly had life. Inside them a reason burned them with desire, but alas they couldn't remember what it was. Soon they started bickering amongst themselves, some arguing there was no point in their existence at all, some saying the time they'd come to know what it was was fast approaching. The only thing all of them had in common was that nameless urge to join something. They were miserable.
In the morning the old man apologized to the gods and prayed for a better year to come. Then he roasted the mochi balls on the branch over the hearth. When they were cooked he picked some off, cooled them by blowing on them, and placed some in his wife's mouth. She chewed slowly, but determinedly. He ate his own, but as soon as he had swallowed, his wife started crying out in pain. He rushed to her, but she was thrashing weakly, clutching her stomach in agony. He knew he'd be next. The mochi must have been poisoned.
When the bickering little bits of lost mochi heard the old people crying in pain, they suddenly had an awakening. Those cries of grief dissolved their own in a flash of understanding; they knew what they were supposed to do, and rolled themselves towards the sounds of anguish.
The old man was aghast to see them roll in, but he would have believed anything by the time one of them spoke to him.
"Eat us. Eat us, or else you'll die!" the little morsels said.
He had no other choice but to pick it up and pry open his wife's mouth and make her chew it. Quickly he divided the rest and ate while he fed the old woman.
Soon she was able to eat herself, and an hour after that she was as well as she had ever been.
The mochi grew in their stomachs, and although they grew to be as round as Hotei-sama himself, the old couple lived happily ever after!
~
Hotei-sama
- 5
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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