Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [236]
Abashed at this chilly reception, he blurted out, “Why do you say that as soon as you see me? If you want me to leave, I’ll go, but I can’t see why. Have I done something you disapprove of? If so, at least tell me what it is.”
His aunt seemed unwilling to be pinned down. “Oh, as long as you’re here, why don’t you come to our house and say hello to your uncle? But you know what kind of person he is, so don’t be disappointed at anything he might say. I’m your aunt, and since you’ve come to see us, I don’t want you to go away with hard feelings.”
Taking what little comfort he could from this, Musashi walked with her to her house and waited in the front room while she broke the news to her husband. Through the shoji he could hear the asthmatic, grumbling voice of his uncle, whose name was Matsuo Kaname.
“What?” asked Kaname testily. “Munisai’s son here? … I was afraid he’d show up sooner or later. You mean he’s here, in this house? You let him in without asking me?”
Enough was enough, but when Musashi called to his aunt to say good-bye, Kaname said, “You’re in there, are you?” and slid the door open. His face wore not a frown but an expression of utter contempt—the look city people reserve for their unwashed country relatives. It was as though a cow had lumbered in and planted its hooves on the tatami.
“Why did you come here?” asked Kaname.
“I happened to be in town. I thought I’d just ask after your health.” “That’s not true!”
“Sir?”
“You can lie all you want, but I know what you’ve done. You caused a lot of trouble in Mimasaka, made a lot of people hate you, disgraced your family’s name and then ran away. Isn’t that the truth?”
Musashi was nonplussed.
“How can you be so shameless as to come to call on relatives?”
“I’m sorry for what I did,” said Musashi. “But I fully intend to make the proper amends to my ancestors and to the village.”
“I suppose you can’t go back home, of course. Well, we reap what we sow. Munisai must be weeping in his grave!”
“I’ve stayed too long,” said Musashi. “I must be going now.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” said Kaname angrily. “You stay right here! If you go wandering around this neighborhood, you’ll get yourself in trouble in no time. That cantankerous old woman from the Hon’iden family showed up here about a half year ago. Recently she’s been around several times. She keeps asking us whether you’ve been here and trying to find out from us where you are. She’s after you, all right—with a terrible vengeance.”
“Oh, Osugi. Has she been here?”
“Indeed she has. I heard all about you from her. If you weren’t a relative of mine, I’d tie you up and hand you over to her, but under the circumstances … Anyway, you stay here for now. It’ll be best to leave in the middle of the night, so there won’t be any trouble for your aunt and me.”
That his aunt and uncle had swallowed every word of Osugi’s slander was mortifying. Feeling terribly alone, Musashi sat in silence, staring at the floor. Eventually his aunt took pity on him and told him to go to another room and get some sleep.
Musashi flopped down on the floor and loosened his scabbards. Once again came the feeling that he had no one in the world to depend on but himself.
He reflected that perhaps his uncle and aunt were dealing with him frankly and sternly precisely because of the blood relationship. While he had been angry enough earlier to want to spit on the doorway and leave, he now took a more charitable view, reminding himself that it was important to give them the benefit of every doubt.
He was too naive to accurately judge the people around him. If he had already become rich and famous, his sentiments about relatives would have been appropriate, but here he was barging in out of the cold in a dirty rag of a kimono on New Year’s Eve, of all times. Under the circumstances, his aunt and uncle’s lack of familial affection was not surprising.
This was soon brought forcefully home to Musashi. He had lain down hungry on the guileless assumption that he would be offered something to eat. Though he smelled food cooking and heard