Legends of Japan (9 page)

22. Reunion with death

L
ONG, LONG AGO
, there lived in the capital a master
less samurai and his wife. In those days things were so bad that he could not easily get a livelihood—that is, he could not find a master to serve. Therefore, the couple lived in dire poverty.

One day he was told that his closest friend had fortunately been appointed as a local administrator and was busy making preparations for departure to his new post. So he set out at once to the friend's residence to tender greetings on his promotion. The friend, though quite busy giving instructions to his retainers for the departure, was glad to see this samurai and had a little talk with him.

Toward the end of their friendly conversations, the friend said, "By the way, my dearest friend, what are you going to do from now on? I know you have long been seeking a position here in the capital. But as you know, times are hard now. So I am afraid nobody will give you a position easily. As your closest friend, I sincerely recommend that you come with me. I am sure I can help you somehow at my new post. I have been hoping to help you but until now I was not in a position to do so. Now I have fortunately been promoted to the post of local administrator. So I think I can help you. You can't go on like this— without getting any position. So, think it over."

"Thank you very much for your kind offer, my dear friend. To tell you the truth, we are badly off now, though my wife does not complain about our hard living. I should be much obliged if you would give me any position under your command." Expressing his deepest gratitude to the friend, this samurai accepted the kind offer on the spot.

Poor as he was, he had been enjoying a happy life with his beloved wife, who was young and beautiful and had a tender heart. They did not let poverty pull out the wedge of love between them. Therefore he found it very hard to depart for the local post alone because of financial difficulty.

Just before his departure, however, in secret he immorally married another woman, who had vast property and had offered to help him financially. He left the capital with her—leaving his devoted wife behind, alone.

In the remote province, he was set free from the feelings of poverty for many years and indulged in luxury with the second wife, forgetting to send even a single letter to the wife left behind in the capital. In this way, many a year passed.

However, he sometimes in a quiet hour thought about his present mode of life and felt guilty for enjoying a luxurious life with another woman while his poor wife was left alone at home without getting any allowance from him. As time went by, his heart ached more and more with longing for her. So anxious was he to see her again that he could not settle to his work even for a single moment, just hoping for the early arrival of the day to return to the capital. And that day came at long last!

On his way back home, feeling deep guilt for having lived a double life with another woman, he made up his mind to humbly apologize to his wife by confessing everything, and though poor, to enjoy life with her again. Upon his arrival in the capital, he parted from the second wife and went straight back to his old home.

The house was precisely at the place where it had stood before. The gate was wide open. One weather-beaten door hung from a rusty hinge; the other had been carried away somewhere. The roof was covered with weeds and moss, and ridge tiles had fallen to pieces on the ground.

With a glimpse of the desolate building, a sense of gloom pervaded his spirit. Once through the gate, he found the garden utterly neglected and all the doors of the house closed. There was no sign of human habitation.

It was the night of the twentieth day of the ninth month. The moon was casting her soft, silvery light upon everything, weeds were swaying in the autumn breeze, and crickets were chirping here and there.

Pushing off one of the sliding doors, he stepped into the dark house and examined the rooms one after another, and lo! there in the living room sat his beloved wife looking toward him. "Welcome home, my dear husband! I have been expecting your return every day. I missed you very much," she said faintly, showing a sweet smile on her beautiful face.

Received in such an unexpectedly warm manner, he felt relieved and told her how anxious he had been to see her, saying, "Now that we are together again in this house I never wish to part from you. I don't want anything except you. You are everything to me."

As night was far advanced, they went to bed together. "By the way, my darling, did you live here all by yourself during my absence?" asked the samurai.

"Yes, I lived alone, as you say. I did not have any source of income, so I had to cut down the cost of living as much as possible. To employ a servant was far beyond my means."

Poor thing! How sadly she had lived in such a lonely house! The more he felt pity for her, the wider he was kept awake. It was around dawn when he finally fell asleep. When he awoke, it was broad daylight and the sun was streaming into the dark room through the chinks in the doors.

"Now, let us get up, darling," said the samurai, and turned toward the wife. Behold! There beside him lay—a dead body, now a mere bag of bones! Springing to his feet with a shriek, he rushed out into the garden, breaking down a sliding door. When once again he looked into the room, there still lay the dead body! He stood in dismay for a moment. But soon he came to his senses and went to a neighbor's house and asked, "Excuse me, but may I ask something about the house over there? Would you tell me who lives in that house?"

The neighbor gazed at his face for a moment and then said, "That house! Don't you know anything about that house? All right, I will tell you a story. Many many years ago, a poor samurai and his beautiful wife lived a happy life in that house. One day the samurai left to take a position in a local administrative office, leaving his beloved wife behind. Many months and years passed and yet not a single letter came from him. However, the faithful wife led a life of misery, vainly waiting day after day for a call from her husband.

"Some time ago, a rumor spread in the neighborhood that the samurai was indulging in luxury, living with another woman far away at his post, and not giving a thought to his poor wife at home. Oh, what a wretch! Hearing this, the wife grieved so deeply over her ill fate that she passed away this summer after a long illness. Poor woman! As she had neither relatives nor friends to hold a funeral service for her, her dead body has been lying untouched in that gloomy house."

People of those days told one another that the dead wife must have returned from beyond the grave to attain a long-cherished desire to see her dear husband again.

—THE END —