* Author : Eugie Foster
* Narrator : Tina Connolly
* Host : Matt Dovey
* Audio Producer : Eric Valdes
*
Discuss on Forums



Previously ran as episode 28 and first published by Cricket Magazine


Rated G

The Tanuki-Kettle
by Eugie Foster

When Hisa was a baby, her mother called in a soothsayer to cast her daughter’s horoscope. The old woman pulled out her astrology charts and consulted them while incense turned the air blue with perfumed smoke. That day, the fortuneteller had a headache and was in a black mood. Though Hisa’s mother brought her a cup of hot, green tea and fanned her sweating brow, the old woman continued to scowl.
“This child will be too bold for her own good,” the fortuneteller grumbled.
“Is there nothing I can do?” asked Hisa’s distraught mother. “I could hire tutors to teach her the folly of brashness.”
“That is not sufficient.”  The soothsayer’s eyes lit upon the brimming teapot. “She must grow up to be a lowly tea girl.”
Hisa’s mother wanted, above all, for her daughter to have a joyful and serene life, as befitting a devout follower of Buddha. Did not the teachings of Buddha extol the virtues of poverty and humility? Hisa’s mother bowed her head to fate. If the cosmos wished her daughter to be a tea girl, so be it. She bundled Hisa in the poorest swaddling she could find, purchased a teahouse in a humble village, and took up residence there. She raised her daughter to be thoughtful and kind, and above all to understand that every moment presents an opportunity to act, and that these choices determine one’s happiness.
When Hisa’s mother caught the lung cough and passed on to her next life, Hisa took charge of the teahouse. When a new landowner moved into the village and raised everyone’s taxes, she accepted it with philosophic grace. She did, however, wish the new landowner, Lord Seiichi, would be more considerate. He brought his hunting parties thundering through the narrow streets of the village at all hours, day and night, whooping fit to awaken the ancestral spirits. The rumble of hoofs knocked shelves awry on the walls, and pots and pans free from their hooks.
One dawn, when Hisa was preparing for her busy day, Lord Seiichi took his hunters racing past in the street outside the teahouse. Their commotion startled Hisa so much that she dropped the copper kettle she was scouring. A great gash appeared in the lid as the kettle bumped and rolled over the hard, stone floor.
“Oh, pickled plums!”  Hisa exclaimed. As everyone knew, an imperfect teakettle brewed imperfect tea. She examined the rent in the metal. It was quite wide.
Hisa glowered. Enough was enough. She would petition Lord Seiichi to cease the thoughtless ruckus and to compensate her for her loss.
As she opened the door, Hisa was surprised to see an iron kettle sitting ...