March 14, 2011
I send my heartfelt condolences to those who are suffering at this moment due to injury, hunger and loss of loved ones, their homes and even their cities. The content was written before the events of the deadly earthquake, tsunami and fears of damage to the cooling systems at nuclear power plants.
I did try to research homelessness in Japan while writing this, and of course I only use the most reliable research resource, *cough* Google. But a new level of homelessness will exist for a long, long time on Honshu.
Thanks for reading this! The corresponding chapter of the public domain Don Quixote translation that I'm using is at {www. online-literature. com/ cervantes/ don_quixote/ 15/} (cut and paste inside the {funky brackets}, and remove the spaces to get the correct web address).
Dan Hangs Out With the Vagrants
While Kildare lay on the park bench feeling miserable, Dan beamed up at the magnificent starry sky, or what he could see of it through the city's light pollution. An old man with half-centimeter-long facial stubble hobbled over to the bench and nudged Dan. "Come," he wheezed from a mouth full rot. Kildare stood up first, and then Dan rolled onto his feet and they followed the shuffling gait of the old man to a group of homeless men squatting in the light of one of the park's lamps. To the side, smoke and waves of heat were flowing from red embers glowing inside metal ring as wide as a manhole cover.
As they walked, Dan could smell various foods and his stomach grumbled. The men sat encircling an orange plastic tarp spread with piles of smashed and misshapen food. A tall man welcomed Dan and Kildare. "Share and share alike! Welcome to our feast."
Dan made a meager attempt at a bow and Kildare imitated him. Unlike Dan, Kildare was reluctant to squeeze into the crowd surrounding the orange plastic. Dan kneeled next to the tarp, swallowing to prevent copious saliva from drooling out of his mouth.
A wrinkly-faced man said in a squeaky voice, "Our benefactor brings us the nightly leftovers from his busboy job." He nodded toward a middle-aged man who nodded humbly and then offered wooden chopsticks in paper slips to Dan and Kildare.
Dan eagerly took the chopsticks out of the paper holder, carefully flattened the slip and set it next to him, and then surveyed the feast. A pile of yuba in brown sauce had withstood its transport well, as had bits of octopus. A clump of soggy tempura was flattened and much of the batter had fallen off. What looked like a lumpy pile of rice with seaweed and other toppings was actually a mound of smashed sushi rolls. Another mound was a mishmash of eggplant pickles, daikon half-moons and burdock root spears.
Several of the older men were chewing on skewers of fried vegetables and seafood. They glanced curiously at Kildare standing aloof but said nothing. Dan turned to Kildare. "Alien hunters are greatly honored by the fine citizens of Tokyo. Please join me as an equal, Kid. Partake of the delectable offerings so graciously provided by these generous civilians. If we had bowls, I would insist that you eat out of mine so that we would be like brothers. For alien hunting is like brotherhood."
Kildare nodded and hastily spoke to Dan. "Thanks, but I can eat just fine from this distance. I dare not join the emperors of this park and pretend that I am their equal. I'd rather stick to my plain onigiri than eat the dumpster-dived remains of some theme park restaurant. Goodness knows, perhaps a child drooled over this food or kitchen workers coughed and sneezed over the trash bins. Of course I am honored by your brotherly kindness. Yet I dare not eat from this hodgepodge of castaway buffet remains."
Dan looked at Kildare sternly. "Sit down and do not insult our hosts again." He pulled Kildare beside him and pressed him to his knees.
The vagrants had been staring at them but looked away as soon as Dan looked up. The middle-aged man produced a sack that clinked as he lifted it. He passed it around, and each man took a can of "one cup sake". Next the benefactor set a metal sheet set across half of the fire pit. Then he dumped out a paper bag. Swarthy brown chestnuts in their hard shells clattered onto the metal. As the man poked and prodded the chestnuts, the shells crackled and the aroma hissed into the air.
Seeing that the meal was coming to an end, Dan ate his fill. Then he carefully put his disposable chopsticks back into their paper sleeve. He passed on a second "one cup sake" but accepted a fistful of freshly toasted chestnuts, their shells cracked open.
Dan mused over the nuts and then made of show of preparing a great speech by holding one chestnut between his fingers to admire it. What follows is a close rendition of his words.
"A long, long time ago, the ancients created their fine works of pottery. In that Jomon era of rope-imprinted clay, no one knew that such a cord could become a noose or a snare. In those good old days the men just sat around drinking fermented grains. They were safe from all ills and made their women go out a gather the food. Ah, the days when men hardly had to lift their fingers except in the rare case of hunting and perhaps fishing. The sea bream sank to the bottom of the shallow waters and swallowed whatever they swam across without discrimination. The Japanese cedar was a magnificent, wild fauna in the height of his youth. In those days young and old alike gazed upon the scantily clad girl who was not yet aware of the blossoming twin rose buds that teased behind her frocks. The lasses had the good sense to sashay while they walked and no one called a man a lecher for gazing upon pubescent females. Though a man's pant-tent was as tall as Mount Fuji, no one would accuse him of improper thoughts. The mating call of the boar was music to the ears. Curious youth imitated nature, breeding an unending source of beauties whose only desire was that they would be objects of men's lust. No crazy ideas of liberation or equality existed then. A girl wanted to gather food until her back broke. If it was not the season for gathering food, she wanted to please a man on the deer-skin covered floor of a primitive hut. Men had absolute power, and it was a fine time in history. Only when women began to think for themselves did troubling times come upon us. It is a carefully guarded secret that all of men's trouble with women is actually caused by aliens. These seditious extraterrestrials turned the minds of real women away from the simple life of serving men. And I am dedicated to hunting such evil aliens, gentlemen. I am rightfully due the hospitality that you have shown, and yet I am impressed that you have offered it without knowing who I am. So I give you my sincere thanks for tonight's feast."
Dan finally stopped blathering. The vagrants were befuddled by his crazy talk, but they had all heard the likes of Dan's insanity from other homeless schmucks. Kildare grabbed a third "one cup sake" and imbibed without comment. He did munch on many chestnuts to make up for his lack of tasting the other food.
The benefactor announced, "Since we have a loquacious guest in our midst, it is only fair that we reward his words with some talent of our own. So I invite you to relax and enjoy the music."
One of the oldest men pulled out wooden flute and began to play an enchanting melody. The benefactor turned to the darkness and urged, "Do not be shy, Yoshi. Come out and sing for us." From the shadows a delicate, lanky young man emerged. His silky hair brushed against his high, thin cheeks when he gave friendly bows to his elders and gave a respectful bow to Dan and Kildare before he sat among them.
YOSHI'S SONG
Does Iori like Ichitaka?
Read the manga I''s and see.
Could she secretly want to know him?
The boy dreams his fantasy.
What if Iori lusted after him?
Imagine the roles in reverse.
She wanted to feel his hard little brother
And she did not think it perverse.
She wanted to gaze at his muscles
And run her fingers through his hair
She dreamed of being on top of him,
Gliding against his sweat in cool night air.
A girl sending secret looks
But getting nothing in return.
The boy obsessed with only himself.
When will he ever learn?
When Yoshi stopped singing Dan leaned forward and begged him to sing more. "But there are no other words to the song," the slender man protested.
Kildare stood and wobbled a bit. "Suits me jusht fine," he slurred. "I'm going to cozy up on zhat park bench now."
Dan sniffed. "Maybe if you hadn't had that last sake you would be more eager to appreciate the fine music played for us tonight."
"At least I'm eager for something," Kildare muttered as he staggered into the darker area.
Dan shouted after him, "Fine, then. Go off and sleep. I will take the higher road of watching and waiting. Besides, my ear is itching for more music."
By now Yoshi had faded into the shadows again. Seeing Dan's disappointment, one of the men passed him an MP3 player and ear buds. "This'll keep your mind occupied," the man promised. So Dan listened to a Shonen Knife playlist and his desire for more music was indeed sated.