Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [187]
Enveloped in the white spray, he seemed almost in a trance. Still farther out was a young girl, feverishly making her way toward deep water. When he had first spotted her, she had been standing in the shadow of the pines, looking blankly at the sea; then suddenly she sped across the sand and into the water, her black hair streaming out behind her. The water was now halfway up to her waist, and she was rapidly approaching the point where the bottom fell off sharply.
As he neared her, Uncle Gon called out frantically, but she pressed on. Suddenly, with an odd sound, her body disappeared, leaving a swirl on the surface.
“Crazy child!” cried Uncle Gon. “Are you determined to kill yourself?” Then he himself sank below the surface with a glug.
Osugi was running back and forth along the edge of the water. When she saw the two go down, her screaming turned to strident calls for help.
Waving her hands, running, stumbling, she ordered the people on the beach to the rescue as though they were the cause of the accident. “Save them, you idiots! Hurry, or they’ll drown.”
Minutes later, some fishermen brought the bodies in and laid them on the sand.
“A love suicide?” asked one.
“Are you joking?” said another, laughing.
Uncle Gon had caught hold of the girl’s obi and was still holding it, but neither he nor she was breathing. The girl presented a strange appearance, for though her hair was matted and messy, her powder and lipstick had not washed away, and she looked as if she were alive. Even with her teeth still biting her lower lip, her purple mouth bore the suggestion of a laugh.
“I’ve seen her before somewhere,” somebody said.
“Isn’t she the girl who was looking for shells on the beach a while ago?” “Yes, that’s right! She was staying at the inn over there.”
From the direction of the inn, four or five men were already approaching,
among them Seijūrō, who breathlessly pushed his way through the crowd. “Akemi!” he cried. His face went pale, but he stood perfectly still.
“Is she a friend of yours?” asked one of the fishermen.
“Y-y-yes.”
“You’d better try and get the water out of her fast!”
“Can we save her?”
“Not if you just stand there gaping!”
The fishermen loosened Uncle Gon’s grip, laid the bodies side by side, and began slapping them on the back and pressing them in the abdomen. Akemi regained her breathing fairly rapidly, and Seijūrō, eager to escape the stares of the bystanders, had the men from the inn carry her back.
“Uncle Gon! Uncle Gon!” Osugi had her mouth to the old man’s ear and was calling to him through her tears. Akemi had come back to life because she was young, but Uncle Gon … Not only was he old, but he had had a fair amount of sake in him when he went to the rescue. His breath was stilled forever; no amount of urging on Osugi’s part would open his eyes again.
The fishermen, giving up, said, “The old man’s gone.”
Osugi stopped crying long enough to turn on them as though they were enemies rather than people trying to help. “What do you mean? Why should he die when that young girl was saved?” Her attitude suggested she was ready to attack them physically. She pushed the men aside and said firmly, “I’ll bring him back to life myself! I’ll show you.”
She set to work on Uncle Gon, putting to use every method she could think of. Her determination brought tears to the eyes of the onlookers, a few of whom stayed to help her. Far from being appreciative, however, she ordered them around like hired help—complained that they were not pressing the right way, told them that what they were doing would not work, ordered them to build a fire, sent them off for medicine. Everything she did, she did in the surliest fashion imaginable.
To the men on the shore, she was neither a relative nor a friend but just a stranger, and eventually even the most sympathetic became angry.
“Who is this old hag anyway?” growled one.
“Humph! Can’t tell the difference between somebody who’s unconscious and somebody who’s dead. If she can bring him back, let her do it.”
Before long, Osugi