Shipwrecks by Akira Yoshimura

prayer as the boat turned back to the shore.
    They all followed Kura to the village chief’s house.
    The chief was sitting in orthodox style, his legs folded under him as he welcomed her into the room. Kura knelt in front of him and placed her hands on the floor as she bowed deeply. Rising to her feet, she kicked the little square table placed in front of the village chief. It flew almost as far as the wall, the food in the bowl scattering on the floor. Kura was much more powerful than the woman Isaku had seen the previous year; she even drew murmurs of admiration from the men gathered in the entrance.
    After adjusting her kimono she bowed again to the village chief and left with Takichi to go back to her own house.
    That night Isaku was invited to represent his family at Takichi’s house. Kura’s selection for the O- fune- sama ritual was an auspicious occasion, and tradition held that her baby would grow up to be sturdy and strong. Kura’s father was also there. Millet wine was brought out, and they were served bowls of dumpling soup. Takichi’s mother was sitting hunched over by the fireside.
    â€˜With your missus kicking the table across the room like that, people are saying that O- fune- sama could well be on the way,’ said Isaku, sipping the wine in his bowl. If only a ship would capsize for them the way that table had been turned over, he thought.
    â€˜That’d be good all right,’ Takichi muttered.
    Kura’s father just sat there drinking his wine while his daughter poured some plain hot water into Takichi’s mother’s bowl. Takichi screwed up his face, which was flushed red fromthe wine. ‘We’ll be in trouble if O- fune- sama doesn’t come. The baby’ll mean another mouth to feed. Maybe I’ll have to do the same as your father and sell myself to keep them from starving,’ he said, looking at Isaku dolefully.
    Isaku cringed, but it was hardly unexpected. Takichi was going to have to shoulder the burden of supporting not only his aged mother but also his wife, Kura, and the baby that was due before long. Being unable to sell the saury, and then the poor octopus catch on top of that, meant that Takichi’s family had not been able to get any grain from the next village, putting them in dire straits.
    Their situation was exactly the same as that of Isaku’s family. Even though his father had been a skilled fisherman, a poor season had left him with no option but to sell himself into bondage. There was a limit to the food to be reaped from the sea, and every year the catch was getting smaller. If O- fune- sama did not grace their shores soon, there would likely be a flood of people leaving to go into bondage.
    â€˜I had to smack Kura once to set her straight. Said she’d go once the baby’s weaned. She’s big and could probably get a good price, but I’m not having any of that. No wife of mine’s selling herself. It’s me who’s gotta go.’ Takichi’s eyes glistened as he spoke. Kura’s father said nothing, merely stared at the flames.
    Isaku took a sip of the vegetable porridge Kura had served him, then took his leave. The wine made him feel unsteady on his feet. Tears started to flow down his cheeks as he made his way home. He understood how his father must have felt when he left his family behind. His parting words were ‘Don’t let the children starve,’ but Teru had died. When his father had left, entrusting the well-being of the family to someone as untried as Isaku, he must have been well aware that a death among them was a very real possibility. His mother always tried to give the children as much food as she could; she scooped the solids from the vegetable porridge into the children’s bowls, while she herself only drank the liquid. She knew how his father felt and was doing her best to keep the children alive.

    He felt himself teetering in the wind off the sea, immersed in the