The Beauty of Death Vol.1

The Carp-Faced Boy-2

The old man grunted.

“They say that his teeth are made from only the finest woods and are stronger and more comfortable than even your own teeth.”

Grandpa Tetsu huffed and sat up, facing his wife.

“Too expensive,” he mumbled.

“Yes,” she said, lifting the top of the teapot to check the leaves and then replacing it. “We’ve been looking for something we might be able to trade for his services.”

“There’s nothing,” he said, readying to lie back down.

“I was thinking about the comb my grandmother gave me, the tortoiseshell one, but when I took it out three of the teeth were broken.”

“That child again I bet,” the old man said. “Always snooping around, getting into things.”

“He’s just a baby.”

“Maybe,” Grandpa Tetsu said, an idea dawning on him. “Every craftsman needs his own apprentice, someone to train from an early age.”

“You’re much too old to learn a new trade. And you know how bad your eyes are.”

“Not me.” He looked over his wife’s shoulder at the doors that led to the hall. Today there were no eyes or mouth or small clutching hands trying to get in.

“What are you talking about?”

“Two birds, one stone. Perfect p*****t. You said yourself the child was smart. We barely had enough to feed the two of us when they showed up. He’d have a very good life. Besides, what is a child without a father anyway? He’d be paying me back for the teeth he broke.”

“How could you think such a thing?” His wife stood and shook her head down at her husband. “I would never allow that.”

“Humph,” the old man grumbled, arms across his chest. “Just you wait. I know, I’ve been told. If we don’t get rid of that child something terrible will happen. Something worse than this.” He motioned to his swollen mouth.

“Who? Who told you such a thing?”

Grandpa Tetsu didn’t answer. Instead he reached for the teapot at the same moment his wife moved to take the tray away. Their hands touched.

“You’re burning up with fever.” She pulled her hand away and rubbed it.

“Ridiculous. If anything, I’m cold,” Grandpa Tetsu said. “And if I do have a fever he probably gave it to me.”

“You’re impossible. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” His wife turned on her heel and left the room, her soft steps beating quickly down the hall. He heard her turn and enter the kitchen, heard the slide and slap of the fusuma door shutting behind her.

“Well, then you had better make sure you keep him away from me!” Grandpa Tetsu called. The old man shook his fist twice before turning his attention back to the horse pawing the ground under the willow outside the window.

Wood and Teeth—

Two feet in wooden geta crunched the gravel outside. The pause between each footfall a count longer than any normal man’s pace. Long strides, weighted strides. He was tall. Even the heavy material of layered robes found Grandpa Tetsu’s ears. Not the roughly hewn, patched cloth of a villager—resonant folds, but a fine weave. A man of wealth. Importance. He was carrying something.

Waiting.

“Nakanishi-sensei has arrived,” his wife announced, leading the guest into the six-matted tearoom.

Grandpa Tetsu did not look up. The presence at his back was enormous, unmoving on solid feet, eating up the air around it. There was the click and slide of a tray being set down, a ceramic teapot, two cups, two plates on which he heard the clumsy shift of homemade sweetmeats—one by one the items were removed from a tray and placed on the old, veined wood of the low table. Still the ghost of the stranger leaned in. It tried to whisper in his ear, made the skin on the old man’s back crawl. Outside the sun was high; cruel today, it baked even the shadows and trembled the long tendrils of the willow.

Under the willow stood no horse.

“He’s been like this.” His wife offered an attempted apology. Her embarrassment normally would have angered Grandpa Tetsu. But he didn’t care. Not anymore.

He listened as his wife bowed her exit. And then he turned, keeping his head low, his eyes down.

“Thank you for coming,” Grandpa Tetsu mumbled as he bowed deeply, his forehead touching the matted floor; a hot river of blood pounded his head, burned the nerves in his crumbling teeth, and darkened his vision. He sat up, blinking away the ink in his eyes. He nearly lost his balance again.

“You are very welcome.” Nakanishi gave a slight tilting of his great head.

The stranger’s skin was a rubbed angry red, his nose long. He had hair the color of stringy clouds and a slate gray sky. It was long and tied high behind his head, the furrows of a fine-toothed comb were still visible. The same-colored beard fell all the way to the intricately braided cord looped around his waist and tucked into his obi. His eyes were copper.

“I am Nakanishi. They call me the carver-dentist.” He set several bags and a large wooden box on the floor. “Please lie down. I’ll examine your mouth.”

Grandpa Tetsu felt a seeping sense of relief at the stoop of the stranger’s shoulders. This suggested humility and diligence at his craft. This was a good man, a good dentist. And yet he was obviously powerful. Surely he’d recognize evil if he saw it. If he saw the carp-faced boy, maybe he could stop whatever plight was bearing down. A warm spot of hope fired in the old man’s chest. This stranger dentist would help him, could save him, from his deluded family and the evil carp-faced boy. But how to ask?

Nakanishi used a small mirror to catch the sunlight and direct it into his patient’s mouth. Fingers cool on his jaw, moving his head this way and that. Fingers that knew every detail of the Buddha’s face, the old man thought.

“You’re having much pain?” The carver slipped the mirror back into his sleeve.

“Yes, terrible pain. I haven’t eaten. I can barely drink. I’m haunted.”

“I’ve heard a rumor that with my teeth you can eat anything you’d like. Even things you couldn’t eat before.”

“Fish bones?”

Nakanishi paused, then laughed. “Ah, so that explains it. I was going to ask how you obtained such a fine set of teeth. Except for the unfortunate ones of course.”

“Stronger than anyone in town.” The old man bit down out of habit and winced from the pain.

“I’ve seen a lot of teeth, and for your age I think these are clearly the strongest, most healthy ones I’ve ever set eyes on.”

The old man smiled at the acknowledgement of his worth.

Nakanishi withdrew a long white rope from a bag and tied back his sleeves. His movements were certain and quick. He opened the box and began removing bundles wrapped in colorful cloth. Through the thin paper doors came the smell of millet boiled in a bit of rice. At the thought of having new teeth that were stronger than his own, the old man’s appetite returned.

“It does smell delicious, doesn’t it?” Nakanishi said, reading his thoughts.

“Before I begin, I thought you might be interested in seeing this. It’s my latest accomplishment.”

He untied the smallest bundle. Wrapped inside two sheets of paper he revealed a pair of wooden false teeth. They were beautiful.

“This set is going to a feudal lord.”

The carver held the teeth out, turning them for the old man to see. It was then that he noticed and gasped.

“That’s right. The four front teeth are real.” The carver-dentist tapped them with his fingernail. “That’s what brought me to your small town in the first place. Otsubo.”

Otsubo was the crazy man who used to live in a shack behind the town’s only basket weaver.

“When I heard about his accident I came right away.”

The accident was the talk all around town. Otsubo used to claim that every evening after his bath a fox visited him. One night he tossed a piece of abura age out in the yard and watched as the creature gobbled up the treat and immediately turned into a beautiful woman. The woman then began to entice him with her dancing and other female charms. Otsubo was elated, but every time he tried to approach the creature she would dash off into the forest. This happened for three nights in a row until he ran out of deep-fried tofu and had no means to get any more. On the fourth night, Otsubo hid and waited for the fox to appear. When it did he threw a large basket over the creature, thus capturing it. But after some time, listening to the pitiful cries of the lady inside, he lifted the basket to peek. That’s when instead of a white-skinned maiden he was met with a wild blue-faced oni who chased him through the town and right off a small cliff.

“Those are his?”

The carver nodded, wrapping the teeth in paper again.

“The only thing more expensive than boxwood teeth are real teeth,” the carver said. “I wanted to show you the quality of work I do. Now, lucky for you, it looks like I’ll have to pull only three teeth. I’ll replace them with something that looks like this.”

He removed a couple of small wooden chunks from another pouch.

“Real teeth come at a very high price but this wood is durable and will last a good long time.” He handed them over for the old man to examine. “Just look how attractive that grain is.”

“Smooth,” Grandpa Tetsu said.

“They won’t split or splinter. I’ll carve them to fit after I get rid of those bad teeth and take some measurements.”

Nakanishi removed a glazed earthenware jar and two small cups from one of the bags and placed them on the table next to the tea and snacks.

“I was given this by a saké maker in a small town near Edo.” He uncorked the bottle and filled both cups with the cloudy white liquid. “Behind his home there is a waterfall and a river so deep and clear you can see straight to the bottom. The children say if you sit at the water’s edge and stare quietly you can watch the kappa play on the riverbed.” Nakanishi handed him one of the tiny cups.

The old man laughed. “I haven’t seen a kappa in ages.”

“The pure water is what attracts them. It also makes for the best saké.”

Grandpa Tetsu turned up the cup and finished it in one swallow; the cold lacerated his jaw and head. “That is good.” The carver refilled his cup and left the top off the jar. “Do help yourself. It’s included in the price of the teeth.” He drank his own cup down.

The old man poured himself another, feeling a little sad when remembering the cost of his three teeth.

“Yes, she’s a good animal,” Grandpa Tetsu said. “She almost went lame after my daughter rode in on her. Stupid girl doesn’t even know how to change a shoe. How’s she doing for you?”

“She’s doing well. I left her back where I’m staying. The innkeeper said he’d wash and brush her for me. Tomorrow I’m leaving to call on the feudal lord.” He tapped the box where he’d replaced the paper-covered teeth.

“That’s good. She deserves the best. I’m sorry I got to know her for only a short time.”

“I’ll take good care of her.”

The old man drank another cup of saké, felt his head take a little dive. He watched as the dentist spread out a clean cloth and remove various metal instruments from the box: long-handled and short-handled scissors, several different sized pliers, tweezers, pointy needle-like tools, curled lengths of wire, and a miniature serrated hand saw.

“You’re very lucky, you know,” Nakanishi said, sharpening one of the needle-like instruments.

“I am?” The old man reached once more for the saké jug. Maybe he was right, it almost felt like his luck was returning.

“I won’t need half of these. Today’s procedure is simple.”

“Oh, good, no pain.”

“What I’ll do is remove all the broken pieces first. I can use the surrounding teeth as anchors for your new ones.” He lifted the wire. “They’re very strong and will secure the new teeth perfectly.”

Grandpa Tetsu gloated again at the compliment. “Yep, strongest in the entire town.”

“I’ve never seen such fine teeth. How are you feeling?”

“Good, good.” He took another sip of his drink. His face and chest and belly were on fire, and he was just about to sink back onto the mat and let the carver-dentist get started. That’s when he heard it, the distinct sound of small unsteady footsteps hurrying down the hall.

“He’s here!” the old man said, stiffening.

“Excuse me?”

“The boy, the carp-faced boy. Have you seen him yet? You must have seen him. Or are they hiding him from you too? You have to help me.” There was a rush of panic as the old man remembered what he wanted to tell this man.