The Old Men of Omi by I. J. Parker Page B

men were prone to doing that. He’d found himself remembering events of the past since Lady Yukiko had asked him to tell her about them. It was strange, this connection between past and future. The young wanted stories, and the old spent their declining years telling them. And so the past was likely to color how the next generation would think and act.
    Suddenly depressed, he put such reflections from his mind and admired the fine writing utensils, picking them up one by one and turning them in his hands to study the decorations. Among them was a small wooden carving, a contrast to the delicate workmanship of the other items. It appeared to be a figure of Jizo, the Buddhist divinity who was variously the protector of children, women, and travelers. Such figures, carved from wood or stone, abounded in the land, being found along roadways everywhere. More than any other divine representation of the Buddhist faith, Jizo seemed to belong to the people.
    This figure was roughly made. Unlike the stone statues beside the roads, it was small enough to hold easily in one’s hand.
    No doubt it had had some special meaning for the judge or he would not have kept it on his desk beside the pretty objects. He replaced it and turned to look about the room but saw nothing else of interest. “Have you spoken to the servants?”
    “Yes. If you’ve seen enough here, perhaps you’d like to talk to them yourself, sir?”
    As it turned out, the young couple occupied roomy quarters in the former stable. The judge had evidently no longer any need for horses. They were greeted by the wife, who was holding a baby and trying to control a half-naked toddler at the same time. She bobbed several bows, looking distracted and gesturing for them to come in.
    Akitada saw that they were quite poor. The room was bare except for some worn bedding, a few chipped utensils, and an iron cooking pot over a meager fire.
    They remained standing. Though the floor had been swept, there were no cushions or reed mats to sit on. Such abject poverty was unusual for a couple who clearly served as the main servants in a large household.
    The chief smiled at the frightened-looking woman and tickled the toddler’s neck. He asked, “Where is your husband, Tatsuko?”
    She looked vaguely guilty. “Kiyoshi went to the harbor looking for work. We have no money and no food.”
    “Ah,” said Takechi, “the judge forgot to pay you?”
    A glint of anger appeared in her eyes. “He’s always slow, and then he takes back some of our earnings for rent. There’s two more of us now.” She nodded toward the children. “What will happen? He owed us wages. I don’t even have enough for the children to watch a puppet play.”
    “I don’t know.” Takechi glanced at Akitada, who was already searching his sash for some money to give her.
    Akitada said, “I take it Nakano was a tightwad. I will never understand how anyone can treat his people this way. I expect they worked hard for what he paid them.” He passed several silver coins to the young woman. “Here, this should help for a while. Do you know who inherits?”
    She shook her head. “He never married.” She was staring at the silver in her hand, then looked up. “Thank you, your honor,” she cried and fell to her knees, bowing so deeply that the child at her breast sent up a loud squalling.
    “Never mind.” Akitada gave her a hand to help her up. “Did you or your husband hear anything last night?” he asked.
    “Nothing. We’re too far from the house and sleep soundly. Did he cry out or something?”
    Akitada said, “We don’t know. I wondered if you might have heard a visitor come or leave.”
    She gazed at him, shaking her head. “A visitor? He had no visitors. He had no friends either. I don’t think anyone liked him, and he didn’t like people.”
    The loneliness of old age. Neither family nor friends. But in this case, Akitada could not dredge up much pity.
    Takechi said, “There’s a cousin in the