Fatherhood Chapter 3
Naturally, Genjo Sanzo would stay no longer than a day in any place. It was his habit. A routine cultivated over time. At any sense, he hardly saw the necessity to extend his stay once the place had fulfilled its purpose. If there were, it would be once in a blue moon and required a lot of exception.
And this was specially the time.
Using the time given to him, Sanzo explored the entire house. The kitchen occupied the most space of the first level, probably due to the large long rectangular table that sat domineering at the center, which capacity could hold about 10 persons or more. At the back end, there was a stove that was always filled with pans, pots, wooden chopping boards and assorted knives. Like there wasn't enough, one could guarantee the upper cupboards (above the stove) would be filled with even more of Juiko's kitchen culinary. On to the right, the earthen stone oven that endlessly produce appetizing aroma of freshly baked bread. From the far end, rainbow coloured herbs and spices stuffed in hand woven baskets. Hanging along the sides of the brick walls, bundles of wild flowers in its tiny petals of pink and red tied together by a cord. Juiko once mentioned to him that their main purpose was to remove the kitchen's smoky and greasy smell with their fragrance. Sanzo politely accepted her theory, assuming that could be one of those things that called for a woman's touch.
On the second level, there were two rooms – a guestroom and a bedroom which Juiko and Azami shared. Both rooms had equally had the same furniture save for the numbers of beds the room had. The most likable feature was that one would never worry about getting a well-deserved rest for during the days, it was cool and at nights, it was warm as the wool blankets.
Outside, at the backyard, was Juiko's personal garden of vegetables and herbal plants. Neat rows of green leafy crops of the vegetable roots lining up the humble soil. At the white fences, clay pots of various herbal plants whose shapes were so peculiar and odd that they looked more like fungus, disease-struck flowers or withered leaves. Bending down, Sanzo touched one of the plants and ran his fingers over its broad leaves. It was velvety on the top and silky beneath. He went on to touch another one; it was rough and prickly all over. Frowning curiously, he took a mental note to ask Juiko about them later.
Standing upright, he noticed some cows and horses grazing on the open field and a handful of chickens pecking the ground for worms. They were not much but sufficient livestocks for the two independent women. Every morning, Juiko would load her wagons with cans of milk and baskets of eggs and proceed to the nearest town market where she would sell them to buy a week's provisions. If she had any extra vegetables, she would sell them too. If herbs, she would brew them into drinks, packed into glass bottles and sell them as well. In Sanzo's view, she was a practical entrepreneur who never let anything damper her day. A virtue hardly seen in women.
Around the back of the house, he heard the axe's blade chopping echoing in the breeze. He walked on and found Azami chopping firewood. Her chestnut hair was plaited into one braid and firmly held beneath her scarf. The sleeves were rolled up, showing her well-developed shapely arms. She was humming to herself as she held the axe firmly with both hands. Slowly, she let the blade sink a little into the surface of the wood block. With added strength, she pounded the wood block till a large splinter cracked onto the bark surface. Then, she increased her strength and finally cut the wood block into two. Picking up one of the halves, she chopped it into two and repeated her actions again with the other. Sanzo was rather impressed for he rarely saw women doing a man's job. The way she did her work was so intriguing. So decisive and straightforward. Plus, she was hardly breaking a sweat.
Unknowingly, his foot treaded upon a twig with a little too much pressure that it snapped. Azami heard it and she immediately turned and saw Sanzo stiffened like a thief caught red-handed. Putting down the axe, she smiled as she took a soaked rag from a bucket and wiped her arms and face. Sanzo remained still, watching the water droplets trickled down her cheek, its round transparent surface glittering in the sunlight, flowing steadily down her face and neck. Azami untied her scarf and loosened her braided hair with her fingers, letting it flapped in the wind. Sanzo could not help but stared at her.
He didn't know why.
"Genjo?" Sanzo felt a hand pressing onto his shoulder. "What are you thinking about?" He turned and saw Juiko's bubbly face, grinning from ear to ear.
"Nothing," He bluntly replied, looking away. Darn, he should have sense her coming.
"It's alright, Juiko," Azami skipped towards them. Literally popping right up at Sanzo. "Genjo hardly gets to see women at the monastery. Besides, he isn't a full pledge monk yet so he still has time to change his mind." Winking. "Isn't that so?"
Sanzo numbly nodded his head. What was wrong with him? In the next minutes, he would have shut her up like he did to the other monks back in Changan temple.
"Since you are up and about, I can show you the countryside," Taking his hand, Sanzo flinched. Azami tilted her head inquiringly. "What's wrong?"
Seeing Sanzo's difficulty in producing an answer, Juiko said, "Azami, your free spirited ways are making him uncomfortable. You must remember the strict rules that the monastery has for monks when in contact for women. Beside, he has just recovered from a fever and should rest more."
"Well, since Genjo can stand up and walk outside the house, then I think he is able to come with me for a while. Come on." Turning and running towards the gate, half dragging Sanzo behind her. "We'll be back before dinner." She waved. "See you later, Juiko."
"Don't wander too far, it's going to rain soon," Juiko waved back, looking up at the colliding clouds linen with gray. Booming. "I don't want Genjo to fall sick again, you hear me!"
Azami cheerfully waved back. Genjo did nothing except following her like a meek lamb. This was wrong, all wrong. How would a guy like him, a defiant rebel who battled demons almost everyday of his life reduce himself to obedient puppy of this girl? It didn't make any sense. What's so captivating about her? She's just simply a girl oblivious of the things that were actually happening outside her paradise. She probably had no knowledge of the recent occurrences of the demons attacking humans. Their plundering on the industrial areas of Tengenkyou, taking all types of equipments and machinery that they could get their filthy hands on. The demons were planning something, something very big and unimaginable. Something that would endanger all those living in Tengenkyou and humans would be the first target. This irritated him immensely. So much that he took out his gun and shot a branch off the nearest tree.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Azami shouted angrily, snapping him back to reality. Her face flushed red and hands on her hips. "You could have killed somebody."
Sanzo didn't bother to answer. He didn't want to. She wouldn't understand.
"Yesh!" Azami sat down, her arms wrapping around her knees. "Fine, don't reply. I don't think you will be qualified to be a monk at the rate you are going."
"Meaning?"
"Okay, let's start," She held up her first finger. "First, you have a gun. Monk aren't allowed to have weapons on them, especially guns." Another finger. "Second, you smoke because I found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter inside your pants. Monks aren't allowed to smoke" Another finger. "Thirdly, you have a liquor bottle with you and monks are forbidden to drink." Another fighter. "Monks are also forbidden to eat meat. You could have asked Juiko for a vegetarian meal but you ate her meat stew without complaining." Holding up all five fingers. "Lastly, you look more like a traveler than a monk. Monks are all pale, bald softies. You are different with the scars all over your body."
"Scars?" Sanzo stared hard at her. "I don't remember showing them to you."
"Well," Azami flustered, turning a bit pink. "We found you on the way back home and you were drenched. Logically, we have to take off your wet clothes so that we could get you in warm clothes." Fingering the ends of her hair. "During which, we also have to check whether you have any other injuries, you know, like cuts, open wounds, broken ribs or leg." Hastily blurted out louder. "Juiko was the one who examined you. I merely took your clothes to be washed." Nodding like spring-headed toy. "That's right. I didn't see anything else."
Sanzo was doubtful.
"What?" She rebut defensively.
"Which one do you like?"
"Pardon?"
"Which scar did you like best?"
"Which one?" Azami shyly repeated. "Which one?" Her eyes lowered. "I like the crooked scar on your right side. It looked like someone bolted a lightening at you."
"You mean this one?" Sanzo lifted his shirt, revealing a ruby crooked line on his right side. "I've got this one when I was fighting against a tiger demon. He stabbed me with his jagged spear."
"Really?" Acorn eyes widened. "With a wound like that, you must have bled a lot or had some internal injury. Then, what happened? How did you defeat him?"
"With this," He held up his gun and pointed it to his head. "I shot him right in the head."
"I see," Azami looked ahead. "Then, you somehow survived till you reached the next place for medicinal help. Do you always live like that? Don't you have anyone to accompany you?"
"No," He put down his gun. "I always travel alone."
"For what reason? It can't be some errand for the monastery that put your life in danger all the time. What about the scrolls you have with you? What's its part?"
"Nothing. It's something the monks entrusted me with."
"Genjo, tell me something," Azami was serious. "Where are you traveling to?"
"Traveling to?" Her question was so weird. "What do you mean?"
"There's always a reason for traveling. Like fame, wealth, glory, adventure, spiritual enlightenment, to save someone, to find someone. So, what's your reason?"
"None."
"None?" Azami skeptically raised her eyebrow. "I don't believe you."
"Suit yourself then."
"Do you know what I think?"
"I don't want to know."
"I believe you stole the scroll from the monastery and are running for your life. To prevent yourself from getting caught, you disguise yourself as a monk in training." Azami pointed her finger fiercely at him. "Am I correct, Genjo?" She went closer. "Confess now and you will be saved."
"That is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard."
"Sou ne," Azami giggled and lay back on the grass. "Genjo?"
"Yes?" Wishing she could stop asking.
"Why do you choose a gun for your weapon?" She turned to one side, her left cheek resting upon her palm. "You could use a staff, spear or some special weapon with hidden gadgets. Why a gun? It's so ordinary."
"I prefer to travel light," Genjo replied only to satisfy her curiosity. Would she ever stop?
"Can I try?"
"What?"
"Yeah, I want to shoot with your gun," She calmly took it from him. "Lend me, will you?"
"Err…"
Before he could say a proper word, Azami rapidly held up the gun with both hands. Its metal surface as gray as the oncoming rain clouds. Without qualms, she pulled the trigger. Out shot a bullet whizzing through the humid air and pierced into a tree very ruthlessly that it left a permanent hole in its trunk. Its destructive sound reverberated the surroundings. Sanzo almost chocked on his breathe. Azami coolly blew the smoke wisps from the gun and looked at him.
"You said something?"
Sanzo shook his head.
Solemnly, Azami placed the gun into Sanzo's hands and closed them with her fingers. Then, she said something he never thought she could say. "Quite a gem you have there," Staid glowed softly in her eyes. "I finally understand why you choose a gun. When you reach a dead-end, you will possibly use this to shoot your brains out."
To Be ContinuedGeneWeiß thanks you all once more for your wonderful reviews!!! HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Yr 2003, here we come!
