The Escape-continued

A bald acolyte opened the door and to his astonishment found a huge mountain of a man crumpled on the steps. He ran and called the head abbot.

It took four monks to finally drag his big frame into the alcove. “Where did he come from? What clan is he from? He looks like….. ” The monks conversed with one another. Tsutomu let out a deep moan, “Please hide me. They will come.” He tried to stand, but everything started to spin around. He felt his legs go limp and he collapsed into darkness.

He woke up with the sunlight streaming through a small window and the sound of cicadas screaming out their summer symphony. He felt bone tired and sore all over. The battle yesterday was a blur. He remembered the enemy streaming down from all sides of the mountain, his fellow samurai overwhelmed by spears, his Lord cut down by a wave of calvary, and him swinging his sword like a mad man. “How did I get away? I must have killed at least fifty men before I felt that arrow hit my shoulder. The force threw me off the cliff into a bamboo grove. I climbed and climbed. I only heard one word, live!”

There came a knock on the small trap door leading to the cellar. A smallish man with fox-like eyes peeked his head through the door and climbed down the ladder with a tray of hot rice, takuan, natto, and a stone kettle of tea. He bowed and placed the food in front of Tsutomu. He immediately grabbed the bowl and shoveled the hot, steaming rice and soy beans into his mouth like a ravenous wolf. In between mouthfuls he crunched on pickled turnips and gulped down the green tea. He looked up at the monk and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“What is your name?” replied the monk.

“My name is Amekura.” He spoke with rice spilling out of his mouth. “You were lucky to get away. They came by last night asking if we saw a wounded samurai come this way. They were very angry.” Tsutomu stopped chewing and smirked at his luck. He reached into his pocket and squeezed a bronze image of the Buddha his mother gave him twenty years ago. He looked at its weathered features and remembered all the times he rubbed it out of nervousness before a big battle.

The monk sat amused watching this big samurai squeeze his amulet like a little child. “Thank you for hiding me. I don’t know when I can come back to repay you, but I will some day.” The monk scooped more rice into his bowl and passed it back to him. “Did you know that you have cuts all over your body? It’s amazing that none of them penetrated deep enough to cut a vein or vital organ. Buddha was definitely watching over you.”

He slurped down the last grains of rice with hot tea and collapsed back onto the hard maple floors. Looking up at the ceiling he asked, “Can I stay here until I heal up? I just need to regain a little more strength.”

“You can stay here only under one condition” said the monk. “What is that?” “You have to shave your head and put on a robe. We cannot risk having someone find you.” Tsutomu laughed out loud at the thought of becoming a monk, even for a short time. If only his friends could see him now. They would all die of laughter at the thought of Tsutomu, the warrior, becoming a monk. “If only this monk knew?” thought Tsutomu.

“I will put on whatever you want and shave my head if I can stay a few more days in your monastery.” It was the monk’s turn to laugh as he refilled his tea cup. This made Tsutomu feel a little uneasy. As a warrior you always try to notice the slightest change in another person’s demeanor or words. He then waved it off as nothing and immediately fell back to sleep.

When he awoke, he found himself in another room and in a monk’s robe. His hair was completely shaved off and he felt drowsy as if drugged. “Who are these people?” thought Tsutomu. “Hey, monk! Where are you? What is the meaning of this? ” He soon heard footsteps and then from the top of the roof a wooden peep hole opened up and the same monk smiled down at him. “Are you feeling better? We took the liberty of dressing your wounds and cleaning you up. Do you like your new room?”

“This is not a room, but a jail cell you little rat. What did you put into my tea?” “Now, now, you’re still healing up. Don’t get all worked up. We are doing this for your own good.” “What do you mean my own good? What type of monks are you?” shouted Tsutomu.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” “We know who you are. You are the mighty Tsutomu Amekura of the Oda clan. We know you have killed many with your sword. Buddha brought you to us for the purpose of extinguishing your life. We cannot let you go on killing and bringing war to this world. You must be executed. Pray the sutras and prepare to die.”

“I will rip your head off, you little worm. I could crush you with one hand! You call yourselves monks!” He tried to jump up and grab the face of the monk. “By the way, my name is Ukon, and I will take care of you during your stay.”

“Let me out now you lying dogs! Where are my sword and things?”

“You will get them back in paradise” laughed Ukon. He then shut the peep hole and scurried away. The sound of many sliding doors placed him some where deep in the bowels of the temple.

Tsutomu threw himself at the hard oak walls of the room. The walls never rattled once as he kicked, punched, and threw his immense body at every side. After one hour of trying he finally gave up. “I must think. There must be a way out. ”