Kiku's Prayer Part 19

The paper was a letter that Kiku had apparently had someone write for her.

"I know this is very hard for you. I came by the jail hoping to see your face, but they wouldn't let me come near. Right now I'm staying at the Nambanji in ura. I'm saying prayers for you."

As he read the letter, the warmth of the young woman's zeal ran through him from head to toe like a flaming arrow.

He had regarded her as a young girl until now. But here in his hands was proof of how much she worried about him and how much she thought of him. Feelings of euphoria and joy beyond words swept through him. He recalled with clarity Kiku's almond eyes as she swept the street in front of the shop that he walked by every morning.

She loves me this much. His face flushed. He tucked the letter into his pocket, cautiously avoiding the gaze of the others whose bodies pressed against his.

He repeated to himself something Kiku had added to her letter: "I'm not a Kiris.h.i.tan, so I don't know how to pray the way you do. But every night I ask your Santa Maria to help you."

Yes, Blessed Mother. Please do as she asks, please help me, he muttered.

The following morning- "Next ones out!" The constable poked his face through the cell door and shouted. The summons was for Seishir and Taira no Mataichi of Motohara, and for Seikichi.

In the same manner as those who had preceded them, the three men squeezed from the cell with their hands tied behind them. They were to be interrogated at the Nishi Bureau.

This temporary release from the jail for questioning was the sole opportunity the prisoners had to breathe the air of the outside world.

It was an autumn morning, but the heat lingered and cicadas shrieked from every direction. Yet, when the three men emerged from a cell that reeked of sweat and urine and body odors, they were delighted to be free to breathe in as much of the fresh air as they wanted.

Mataichi puffed out his chest and said merrily, "Oh, that's so sweet!" The autumn air truly was ... truly was delicious.

They were taken to the courthouse at the Nishi Bureau and bombarded with the familiar dogged warnings to apostatize.

"You only have to do it outwardly. After that we'll leave you alone. Just say publicly that you've given up being a Kiris.h.i.tan!" The two officers were so frustrated they were willing to accept a compromise. But Seikichi, Mataichi, and Seishir stared at the floor and said nothing.

"You're still going to remain obstinate?!"

No response.

The officers looked at one other and muttered, "You leave us no choice...."

"You leave us no choice" did not mean they had given up. It meant they were left with no choice but to inflict torture.

"Stand up!" The constable barked at the three men. The prisoners still had no idea at that point what would be done with them. It had not actually occurred to them that they could be tortured.

A light as piercing as molten tin streamed through a transom to illuminate a darkened corridor. The light made even the grains of wood in the floorboards visible.

"In there!" The constable pushed the three men into a large room on the left side of the corridor. The room had a wooden floor and only one window.

The constable had them kneel in formal posture and made one final attempt to reason with them. His voice sounded like that of an exhausted man heaving a sigh. "You'd better brace yourselves, we'll be causing you a great deal of pain. When you can't take the pain anymore, all you have to do is say, 'I now apostatize.'"

The three men kept their eyes down and said nothing.

"Then you won't recant?"

The silence continued.

The constable left the room without another word. He returned with five of his comrades.

The officers stood behind Seishir, Mataichi, and Seikichi and ordered them, "Put both hands behind your back!"

Their wrists were bound together so tightly it seemed their bones might break. Then the ropes were tossed over a beam near the ceiling and the bodies of the three men were pulled into midair.

"Bet that hurts! But there's even worse pain to come. Of course we'll set you free if you swear an oath of apostasy...."

The three silent prisoners seemed insolent to the officers, who became all the more infuriated with them.

Bamboo poles made a harsh sound as they beat mercilessly against the three bodies. The poles slashed through the air with a whistle and then a crack as they struck the bodies.

Initially the men grit their teeth to endure the pain and tried to utter no sound. But as the number of blows from the poles reached ten, then fifteen, screams began to escape through their clenched teeth.

Their screams changed from a restrained "Uh!" to agonized cries of "Ah! Ah!" when the number of blows pa.s.sed thirty. With each howl the ropes that suspended them coiled and spun the three bodies with them.

Footsteps sounded in the hall and an official came into the room. It was It Seizaemon. With a deliberate yawn, he asked, "Have they apostatized yet?"

"They're stubborn as h.e.l.l." One of the constables ma.s.saged his tired arms as he replied.

"Then pour water on the ropes," It ordered.

When the ropes became damp, they shrank and bit into the flesh. For this "wet rope" method of torture ordered by Seizaemon, the officers took water from a bucket that was kept on hand to revive prisoners who had fainted and poured it onto the ropes that bound the three men.

At that same hour, Kiku was offering a prayer to the Blessed Mother engraved in her medaille. "Please don't let Seikichi suffer."

Through the wooden wall the screams of the three men were clearly audible in the hallway. Another six Kiris.h.i.tans knelt in the hallway in formal fashion, awaiting their turn to be tortured.

The cries of the men being tortured, like the howling of wild beasts. The sporadic wails. In between, the angry shouts of the policemen. The whack of the poles.

Each of these sounds produced its desired effect on the six men in the hallway who were awaiting their own ordeal. With their hands bound behind their backs, they stared at the ground, quivering.

Finally the officers came out of the room, dragging by their legs the three blood-spattered bodies of the men who had blacked out.

With a grin, It Seizaemon called out to the six prisoners in the hall, "Open your eyes and take a good look at them. This is what the Nagasaki magistrate does for amus.e.m.e.nt ...! Anybody feel like apostatizing now?"

"Yes, sir." One of the Kiris.h.i.tans answered in a mosquito-like voice. "I was wrong. I will change my heart!"

A smile of victory slowly spread across It Seizaemon's face. "You will, eh? So you've seen the light? If you do change your heart, we will do nothing to harm you." He signaled the constable with his eyes.

The abused bodies of the three men were dumped outside the gate of the jail. They were placed as an example for the other Kiris.h.i.tans, who were taken from the Kojima jail to look at them.

The naked bodies of the three men, prostrate on the ground and soaked with blood in the lingering heat of the sun. Even though flies were already swarming around their faces and the wounds on their bodies, none of them had the strength to shoo them away. The only indication that they were still alive was the groans spilling from their swollen lips. The officers hauled the other Kiris.h.i.tan men and women from their cells and forced them to look from a distance on this gruesome scene....

"I ... I can't do this anymore!" One woman cried. "I'm sorry to all of you, but I can't bear it any longer!"

No one reacted against her words. They had all lost the confidence to do so.

"Why doesn't Deus come to help us? Why does he say nothing about these horrid acts?!"

The bonds of commonality that had linked these people together collapsed at this point. Sensing what had just taken place, It Seizaemon hurried back to the magistrate's office and reported it to Hond Shuntar and the others.

"I can't say that torturing them was the best of all possible methods ..." Hond tried to dispel the bitter aftertaste, "but in this case they left us no choice." Tonight at Maruyama with his lover Oy, he would have to drink himself into a stupor.

Again that day, knowing nothing that had transpired, Kiku prayed for Seikichi. As she served Pet.i.tjean his meal, she asked, "If I ask this Lady Mary, will she give me everything I ask for? Will Seikichi be spared any harm?"

Pet.i.tjean nodded vigorously. "I promise she will grant your pet.i.tions."

1. In j.a.panese, korobu, a word that literally means "to fall down," was used in this time period to signify apostasy, perhaps something along the lines of "fall away from the faith."

THE SETTING OF THE SUN.

IN ORDER TO reach Maruyama, the pleasure quarters of Nagasaki, one had to cross over the Shian Bridge, the "Bridge of Pondering," which no longer stands, thanks to land reclamation.

Beyond this bridge lay a smaller bridge, commonly known as the Omoikiri Bridge, or the "Bridge of Resolution." A single willow tree had been planted on the approach to the bridge, similar to the Mikaeri willow, the "Glancing Back" willow1 at the Yoshiwara quarters in Edo.

In Love Letters from Maruyama of 1684, there is a pa.s.sage that reads:

Once you pa.s.s through the gateway

The aroma of lotus and musk delight the nose, And the rustle of fine silk sleeves strikes the ear Once a client has crossed the Bridge of Resolution, the atmosphere of the pleasure quarters is unmistakable.

From the window of the Yamazaki Teahouse at twilight, Hond Shuntar enjoyed watching the people on the street below who were caught up in the hedonistic mood of the quarter. Especially these days, with the burden of his a.s.signment at the magistrate's office to force the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans into apostasy even if it meant resorting to torture, he was eager to dispel his feelings of gloom by enjoying the spectacle of the pleasure quarters in the evenings as he drank his sake....

Oy continued to press liquor on him, but the images of the naked, blood-covered Kiris.h.i.tan peasants lingered before his eyes no matter how much he gulped down. It was true that he had not laid his own hands on them, but he could forget neither the cruel sounds of the police beating the prisoners nor the sounds of the prisoners' cries.

"But nearly all the Kuros of Urakami have given up their vile religion, haven't they? Then please look a little happier!"

"No, there's one who's still immovable." Shuntar had, of course, said nothing to Oy about the tortures. In her ignorance she believed that the Kiris.h.i.tan peasants had submitted to the orders of the magistrate thanks to verbal persuasion.

However- There was still one immovable man. He was a peasant from Nakano by the name of Sen'emon, who refused to listen to any of the entreaties from the officials. He would not change his views under any form of threat or plea. He boldly answered the officers' questions, and his responses were exceedingly lucid, making it difficult to regard him as a peasant.

Hond still had vivid memories of the interrogation he had conducted with Sen'emon two days earlier.

"Now let me ask you: Do the Kiris.h.i.tans teach you to go against the orders of your superiors?"

Sen'emon replied, "No. The padres told us that we must follow the shogun as long as it didn't go against the laws of Deus. For generations, my family has been encouraged to pay its taxes, to work hard, and we've been doing our very best to follow that. It's just that ...we can't worship anybody other than Deus."

"I understand you've lost your wife and that you have children at home. Surely it will bring grief and pain to your children if you're tortured and then have to return to them with a broken body. You'd better give that some thought."

"Thank you for those words. But no matter how much pain I have to suffer in the flesh, it's nothing compared to losing my soul. Those are my feelings."

Hond Shuntar was moved by what Sen'emon said. He was impressed that this humble man would not abandon his resolve. Did faith really make a person that strong ...?

When Shuntar related this experience with Sen'emon to Oy, rather than being impressed by it she responded with something like distaste, "That's scary! Men who are that stubborn frighten me!"

"Well, I admire him. His courage is enviable, but that's a problem for us. Looking at him, I can fully understand why even a mere peasant like him doesn't fear death or danger because of his faith and devotion. That's why years ago, even Lord Hideyoshi and Lord Ieyasu were at a loss how to deal with sectarian rebellions2 and why the peasant insurgents of Amakusa fought so ferociously against the military power of several daimyo in the Shimabara Rebellion.3 ... What I fear now is that something similar might occur here."

Hond Shuntar had not intended to describe the current domestic perils to Oy. But even Oy would have had some vague awareness of j.a.pan's present situation.

To begin with, the shogunate was on the verge of collapse. Hond knew that they were rapidly losing the authority they had held for many long years. And a number of foreign nations, led by the United States, were using a combination of threats, warnings, and proposals to force the shogunate into opening j.a.pan's doors.

Compared with these tumultuous domestic affairs, perhaps this petty uprising by the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans was of little significance.

And yet- And yet the decision by the Nagasaki magistrate to imprison Kiris.h.i.tan peasants and force them to apostatize gave Christian nations such as the United States and France an excuse to interfere in j.a.panese affairs and fanned their animosity toward j.a.pan. That was the real problem.

In Shuntar's view, j.a.pan needed to display firm resolve and poise to these foreign powers. He was in favor of opening the country's doors, but he felt it was absolutely essential that j.a.pan spurn these attempts by foreign nations to intervene in its domestic affairs. That is why he had urged the magistrate to brandish his authority convincingly against the intolerable activities of the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans.

"Oy, there's a possibility that that insignificant little village of Urakami just might have a powerful impact on j.a.pan's future...." Oy was stretched out beside him, and as he spoke, he reached his hand into the folds at the neck of her kimono.

Oy's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, said to resemble s...o...b..a.l.l.s, were milky white, warm, and soft. Hond Shuntar had acquired the unusual habit of fondling Oy's strawberry-colored nipples whenever he talked to her about j.a.pan. As he stroked them, inspired ideas would somehow float into his head. And as he caressed her, she narrowed her eyes as if she was experiencing pleasure as well and did not move a muscle.

Ever since the Urakami Kiris.h.i.tans were arrested, consuls and ministers from France, Portugal, and the United States had come knocking one after another at the Nagasaki magistrate's office to lodge protests and demand their release. One of the magistrates, Governor Tokunaga of Iwami, had repeatedly rejected their demands, citing the laws of the land as a shield.

But once rumors circulated that the magistrate was torturing the Kiris.h.i.tans, the protests from other nations grew louder, and a few consuls even demanded the dismissal of the magistrate.

"We ... we can't give in. The law is the law. We can't release peasants who have violated our laws that proscribe Kiris.h.i.tan belief." As he muttered the words, Shuntar pinched Oy's nipple roughly.

Despite his feelings toward the Kiris.h.i.tans, Hond Shuntar did not neglect his visits to Pet.i.tjean to study French.

He was convinced that from here on out, a man would be of no use to j.a.pan if he could not communicate with those in foreign lands. That was one of the motivations for his visits to Pet.i.tjean, but he also wanted to keep a discreet eye on the activities of this foreigner, who could well be considered the chief instigator of the recent unpleasantness.

For his part, Pet.i.tjean was determined to ferret out the real intentions of the magistrate as he exchanged casual conversation with Hond.

Hond climbed from the sh.o.r.e at ura up the slope that was surrounded by cultivated fields. When he stepped through the gate of the Nambanji, he encountered a young woman who was weeding the garden. An attractive face met his when she turned her towel-wrapped head toward him beneath a blazing sun.

So ... Pet.i.tjean has a young woman at his place....

He took his customary route leading past the rear of the church and walked toward the j.a.panese-style house where Pet.i.tjean lived along with the other French bateren.4 The lessons began in the room overlooking Nagasaki Harbor where they always met. Hond had advanced to the point where he could carry on a basic conversation in French.

"I saw a young woman working outside there...." As they chatted after the lesson, Hond probed, to which Pet.i.tjean nodded his head.

"Yes. With another two Frenchmen coming to live here, we needed a new bonne-that's French for 'maid.'"