One June
evening in 1910, Hisakichi Shimizu, the young manager of a soybean paste and
sauce shop, was walking along a street after finishing his days’ work of
collecting bills. Suddenly, he heard the sound of the fire bell of a fire-watch
tower. Several people were running with the skirt of their kimono rolled up,
shouting, “Fire, fire!” Agitated, Hisakichi ran. When he saw the fire, he was
surprised that his customer’s house, a caterer Suzuno-ya, was on fire. He elbowed
the onlookers aside and advanced to the front. The flames from the first floor
were rising up to the eaves and to the second floor.
Fumi Suzuya, proprietress
of Suzuno-ya, recognizing Hisakichi, cried, clinging to him, “Hisakichi-san!
Hisakichi-san! Help me. Keisuke is on the second floor. Keisuke is….” Her hair
was disheveled. Her kimono was untidy, almost exposing her breast.
Hisakichi
instantaneously thought of his 10-month-old daughter, Chiyo, who was the same age
as Keisuke. He rushed into the fire. He knew where the stairs were. He had seen
them whenever he had delivered soy sauce kegs. He rushed through the fiery
kitchen and climbed the stairs. He heard the shrilling cry of a baby. He picked
the baby up and returned to the stairs. They were ablaze. He couldn’t climb
them down. He retreated and opened the window. He saw onlookers and
firefighters down below. He shouted at the top of his voice.
“Hey, I’m gonna
throw the baby.”
All the
spectators looked up at him and gave a roar of awe. One of the firefighters approached
the fire, stood just below him, and waved his hand. His eyes met with
Hisakichi’s. When he threw the baby, he caught it firmly. The
next moment, Hisakichi jumped onto the ground. The blazing house collapsed over
him, shooting up sparks into the air. Hisakichi died.
A MIRACLE
IN OCHOBO SHRINE (2)
A hundred and two years passed since Hisakichi
died.
Taiji Shimizu
was reading the Chunichi Newspaper while wearing glasses in a sofa on April 23, 2012. He
was the late Hisakichi’s grandson. He had retired from his university
five years before and was leading a leisurely life with his wife. He was a
chubby, bald-headed old man, resembling a bespectacled plump Ebisu god.
Reading the newspaper
closely page after page, he came to the local news page, where a large picture
of red torii shrine gates caught his eyes. The succession of about 20 gates
formed a tunnel. The article about it
read, “The shrine was constructed in 1947. It is dubbed with the friendly name, Ochobo-san.
Walk along the red tunnel and you will feel as if you were in a different
dimensional world.” Looking at the
picture, Taiji felt like he was being pulled into a red world.
Taiji’s specialty
was chemistry, but he thought there was something inexplicable by chemical
symbols, beyond human intellect, in this world. He was captured by the words “a
different dimension.”
He checked the location of the shrine in a map so that
he could visit it sometime soon. He found that it was near Nagoya University
Subway Station near Yagoto Hospital.
He would visit the shrine when he went to the hospital the next time.
Three days later, he went to the hospital to get his
heart checked. The doctor said there was not especially a problem with it.
After receiving medicine, he took a subway and went to the shrine.
A tunnel of red torii gates stood there. The path in the
tunnel had a gentle slope. Taiji began to walk along the slope. Each torii pole
had a metal plate inscribed with the donator’s name.
Outside the tunnel there stood a number of red flags with white Chinese
characters that read Chiyoho Shrine.
When Taiji climbed the path for about ten meters, his
heart suddenly began to ache. He felt dizzy. He tried to hold a nearby torii
pole, but the ground swayed and he fell down on the path. He felt as if a dagger
was being thrust into his heart. He couldn’t breathe.
He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. He tried to shout, “Help,” but in
vain.
The rain began to fall. It rained on his body lying on
the cold wet path. Ten minutes passed. Twenty minutes passed. He was shivering.
Thirty minutes, forty minutes, and fifty minutes, but no one appeared. Gasping
for air, with pain in his heart, he feared he would die, in the rain, alone.
The rain began to fall. It rained on his body lying on
the cold wet path. Ten minutes passed. Twenty minutes passed. He was shivering.
Thirty minutes, forty minutes, and fifty minutes, but no one appeared. Gasping
for air, pain in his heart, he dreaded he would die, in the rain, alone.
A MIRACLE
IN OCHOBO SHRINE (3)
Rei Ohara, a junior of the Japanese literature department
of Nagoya University, dreamed about a fire. She told her mother,
Chieko, about it during breakfast.
“Mom, I saw a fire in my dream last night,” Rei said.
“That’s a good dream. You will soon encounter a good
incident,” Chieko said.
“What? Do you believe in dreams? That’s a
superstition, isn’t it?” Reina said.
“It’s not a superstition. Everybody says a dream about a
fire is a good dream.”
“That’s a weird interpretation.”
After breakfast, she hurried to Gifu Station, for it
took about an hour and a half to go to Nagoya University from Gifu.
When the first class ended, Reina went to the library
and read the Chunichi Newspaper. In the 14th page she saw a large picture
of a succession of red torii shrine gates. The gates formed a tunnel. When she
saw the picture, she felt as if she were being pulled into a red world. The
stone path in it was covered with fallen cherry blossoms. She was fascinated
with the view. The article about the shrine read: “The name
of the shrine is Chiyoho Inari Shrine. It is located in Sonoyama-cho, Chikusa
Ward, Nagoya.” She wrote the name and address in her notebook. She
went to the library computer corner and googled the shrine. She was surprised
to know that it was around the corner from the north gate of Nagoya University.
It also said, “If you insert your name card in a grid of the front
wall of the shrine and pray, your wish will come true.” Although
she did not believe in the shrine’s power, she was interested in the statement, because
she was writing a short story for the O. Henry Short Story Contest.
She had no class on the afternoon of April 26. After finishing
lunch, she headed for the north gate to go to Chiyoho Shrine. It began to rain
on her way. The weather forecast had been right, she thought. She opened
her umbrella and walked to No. 3 building of the department of agriculture.
When she turned left at the corner of the building, she saw the north gate.
Passing through the gate, she walked along the road westward
for 7 or 8 minutes to find a signboard, “Entrance, Chiyoho
Shrine Parking Lot.” She entered the densely wooded precincts of the shrine.
She reached the main shrine and stood in front of the offertory box set against
the wooden grid wall. About thirty grids had name cards inserted in them. Rei,
having no name card of her own, tore a corner of her notebook to make one. Writng
her name on it, she inserted it in one of them, threw a 10-yen coin into the box,
and clapped hands in prayer—may I win the O. Henry prize.
Walking deeper into the shrine, she saw the shrine
office on the right, and a succession of torii gates on the left. Even though
it was raining and slightly foggy, the red tunnel was beautiful against the
green trees. She went to the entrance of the tunnel and looked through it, to
find someone lying on the tunnel path about 10 meters away from her. Startled,
she hurried down to the person. It was an old man soaked in the rain.
“Say, sir,” she said in a loud voice, stooping over him. He slightly
opened his eyes. Immediately she took out a cell phone and dialed 119.
“Emergency, please. An old man is lying on the ground.
He’s dying. Yes, he is barely conscious. The address?
Wait a moment,” she took out her notebook from her bag, opened it,
and said, “It’s Sonoyama-cho, Chikusa Ward. Chiyoho Shrine. Yes? I
see. I must not move him. All right.”
She said to the old man, “I’ve just
called an ambulance.”
He seemed to have nodded.
He looked cold. She had to make him warm, but there
was nothing to do. She couldn’t carry him to the office. All she could do was to cover
him with her umbrella. It was small and covered only his head.
The ambulance was late. The more time progressed,
the more frustrated she became.
“The ambulance will come soon. In no time,” she said
to him to encourage him, but the encouragement was meant for herself. Her left
shoulder and back were all wet. She prayed hard, “Hurry,
hurry, come on.”
Five minutes passed. Six minutes. Seven, and eight.
She heard an ambulance siren in the distance.
“It’s coming!” she shouted. “Hold on,
mister, hold on!”
Tears stood in her eyes unknowingly. The old man
opened his eyes, looking relieved. The siren gradually became louder and
louder. At last the ambulance reached the shrine. The ambulance attendants,
carrying a stretcher, rushed to the feeble old man.
In three minutes, the ambulance disappeared, flashing
the lights and wailing the siren, in the rain. Reina watched the gradually
diminishing vehicle, stupefied.
She came back home extremely exhausted.
“What’s the matter with you? You are all wet,” Chieko
said.
“I’ve had an awful experience today,” Reina
said.
“An awful experience?”
“Yes, I found a dying old man in a shrine.”
“Really? What did you do with him?”
“I called an ambulance.”
“Great. You’ve done a good job. Well, didn’t I tell
you this morning that a good incident would happen today.”
“But it didn’t happen to ME.”
“But, a good incident did happen.”
“Well, yes, but….” Reina
puffed her cheeks unsatisfactorily.
A MIRACLE
IN OCHOBO SHRINE (4)
The ambulance took Taiji to Yagoto Red Cross Hospital,
where he was successfully treated and escaped death. After a three-week
rehabilitation, he left the hospital.
On August 15,
Taiji got off the subway at Yagoto Station and went to Koshoji Temple to visit the
grave of his late grandfather, Hisakichi. He passed through the main gate, walked
to the five-story pagoda, and turned right. Then, he climbed 30 stone steps and
reached the top. There was a well ahead of him. He scooped up water into a
wooden bucket, put some flowers in it, and headed for the gravestone. It was a
hot summer day. Innumerous cicadas were chirping. The gravestone was a 3-meter
high statue of the Buddhist Kannon Goddess of Mercy. On the left side of its lotus
base were inscribed: Hisakichi Shimizu, Died on June 7, 1910, Age 30, and on
the right side: Constructed by Shigenori Suzuya on a lucky Kichijitsu day of
October, 1911.
Taiji joined
his hands in prayer in front of the Kannon statue and said to himself,
“Thanks to
your mercy, I escaped death miraculously. A young woman I don’t know saved
me. I have to compensate her for this.”
One day in 1910, a few days after the first
anniversary of Hisakichi’s death, the manager of Suzunoya, Shigenori Suzuya,
visited Denjiro Shimizu, the owner of the soybean paste and sauce shop.
Shigenori was 65 years old. He was Fumi’s father
and Keisuke’s grandfather. He was the founder of Suzunoya, a
caterer. Although he lost the kitchen and two-storied house in the fire, his
annex, storehouse, and leased houses remained intact. Within a year after the
fire, he established a restaurant named Suzuya, which is well known in and
around Nagoya City.
Shigenori
prayed in front of a Buddhist family altar, turned to Denjiro, Hisakichi’s father, and
said,
“Today I’ve visited
you to ask a favor. I am sorry that your son passed away trying to save my
grandson. I don’t know how to thank him. After I thought about how to
compensate for him, I’ve come to an idea. I would like to build a gravestone
for him. Could you let me build it?”
Although he understood
Shigenori’s feeling of thankfulness, Denjiro, four years older
than he, said, “Oh, no. You don’t have to
do that. It was my grandson’s destiny. I’m sure he is grateful to hear how you think about him.”
“But I
cannot live a peaceful life until I have compensated for him. The gravestone I’m talking
about is not an ordinary one. I am thinking of a statue of the Buddhist Kannon
Goddess of Mercy. I would like to build the statue to express my thanks to him.
Please let me build it so that I can have peace of mind.”
Saying so,
Shigenori showed a picture of a statue of the Buddhist Kannon Goddess made of
white granite stone. It stood on a lotus base, her left hand at her chest level,
making a ring with her thumb and middle finger, her right hand hanging down. Her
gentle eyes and graceful posture. It was beautiful. The moment when he saw it,
he liked it. Thinking the statue would bring peace to Hisakichi’ soul, he consented
to his proposal.
Because Shimizu’s grave was
in the graveyard of Koshoji Temple, the Kannon statue was built there. About
half a year later, Shigenori moved his grave from Gifu Prefecture to the Koshoji
Temple graveyard. Since then, whenever Shigenori took his daughter, Fumi, and
his grandson, Keisuke, to pray in front of their grave, they also prayed for
the repose of Hisakichi’s soul before the Kannon statue.
A MIRACLE IN
OCHOBO SHRINE (the last part)
On the
afternoon of August 15, Reina was visiting her ancestors’ grave in
Koshoji-Temple. Every year on this day she visited it with her mother, Chieko,
but this time Chieko stayed home because of a hangover. On the previous day, Chieko
had been so happy to meet the man she had loved in her youth at the alumni
reunion that she had drank much.
As Reina was
climbing the stone stairs, she remembered the dream about a fire she had
dreamed the previous night. She had told Chieko about it.
“Again a
dream of a fire?” Chieko said. “Then, as
you see, something good will happen to you soon.”
“It was a
coincidence that I saved the old man,” she retorted, fed up with Chieko’s belief
in superstition.
When Reina climbed
the stairs to the top, she saw, about 15 meters ahead of her, a beautiful
Kannon Goddess statue looking down gently at the surrounding gravestones. When
she reached the family grave 7 or 8 meters short of the statue, she saw an old
man walking slowly toward her. He was bald headed and fat. She recognized him.
“Excuse me,
but you are the man who was lying in Chiyoho Shrine the other day, aren’t you?” Reina
said.
Bewildered by
her abrupt inquiry, the man stopped and looked at her with his mouth half open.
A moment later, he said,
“Thank god,
why, yes. You saved me in the rain, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I
did. You’ve recovered. That’s good.”
“Thank you
very much. I was wondering who you were. I have almost given up
on meeting you. It’s a miracle that I should meet you here.”
Reina thought
the word, miracle, was a little too exaggerated.
“So, your
grave is also in this graveyard,” he said.
“Yes, this
is the grave,” she said pointing at the gravestone just beside her.
On the grave
were inscribed, “The Suzuya Family’s Grave.” Taiji was
surprised to see the word, Suzuya. His mother, Chiyo, had often told him that
the name of the baby his grandfather had saved was Keisuke Suzuya.
“Is this
the reputable restaurant, Suzuya?” he said.
“Yes,” she said
wondering why he asked in a surprised voice.
Taiji read
the epitaph: Keisuke Suzuya, Age 80, May 17, 1990.
“Is this
Keisuke your grandfather?” Taiji said.
“No, he is
my great grandfather.”
“Is that
so?” Taiji said. After a moment pause, he continued, “Actually,
about a hundred years ago, my grandfather died trying to save a baby named
Keisuke Suzuya.”
Reina was
stunned and covered her half-opened mouth with her hand.
“Oh, no,” she said
to herself. She remembered that her grandmother had used to say to her whenever
they had visited the grave, “Reina, your great grandfather was saved by this Kannon
statue. It was built for Hisakichi Shimizu’s soul.
Pray for him.”
Reina pointed at
the Kannon statue and said, “Then, you are the grandson of Hisakichi Shimizu, that
Kannon statue over there?”
Saying, “Yes,” Taiji wondered why she knew that the statue
represented Hisakichi.
“But, why do you know that it is the tomb for
Hisakichi?”
“My grandmother often told me about it whenever we visited
here.”
“So, your grandmother is Kieisuke’s….”
“Daughter.”
“Oh,...”
Taiji felt that fate had linked them together.
“Keisuke, who was saved by Hisakichi, saved me in
return,” he said.
Reina felt as if she had momentarily entered another
dimension. She said to herself, “Is it possible? Has Keisuke really saved this man
using me as a medium? Is there something beyond the scope of human intellect in
this world, something that you cannot explain by the term, coincidence?”
When she returned home, she told her mother about the
incident in Koshoji Temple.
“Didn’t I tell you this morning that something good would
happen?” she said.
Reina did not respond immediately, but a moment later she
mumbled in a mystified manner,
“Isn’t it strange?”
In that instant, she conceived an idea for a short
story.
The end
