Chapter 33

Michiko and Charles arrived soon after noon. While the new grandfathers greeted each other, Michiko was already gazing at a sleeping Samuel.

“He is a lovely baby.”

“Thank you.”

“You are not swaddling him?”

“It’s not done in Australia.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No. I’m still somewhat tired, but that will pass.”

“You need to eat well, too.”

“Yes, mother.” Rachel was beginning to wonder whether she would last the week.

“He looks OK,” Charles said. “Did he wake much?”

“He seems to sleep about three hours at a time,” Patrick said. “We both got up around midnight and I got up, changed him, and put him in bed with Rachel around three. She got up around six and we both got up around 8:30.”

“And he can’t feed Sam,” Gordy added.

Patrick went out and came back with cheeses, bread, tomatoes, and salad greens. After lunch, Gordy left as did Charles, after saying that he’d come back next Saturday to fetch Michiko. Samuel fussed a bit and Rachel fed him, then Michiko took him and told him his first Japanese story.

“Long ago all the elements were mixed together in one germ of life. This germ began to mix things around and around until a heavier part sank and a lighter part rose. A sort of muddy sea was created. It covered the entire earth. From this ocean a green shoot sprang up. It grew and grew until it reached the clouds and where it became a god. Soon the god grew lonely and created other gods. The last two gods were Izanagi and Izanami, and they were remarkable.

“Once as they were walking along they looked down on the ocean and wondered what was beneath it. Izanagi thrust his staff into the waters and as he pulled it back some clumps of mud fell back into the sea. They hardened and grew until they became the islands of Japan.

“The two gods descended to the islands and began to explore, each going in a different direction. They created all kinds of plants. When they met again they decided to marry and have children. The first child Izanami bore was Amaterasu, a girl of radiant beauty. The gods decided she was too beautiful to live in Japan, so they put her up in the sky and she became the sun. Their second child, another daughter, Tsuki-yami, became the moon and their third an unruly son, Sosano-wo, was sentenced to the sea, where he makes storms.

“Later, their first child, Amaterasu, the sun, bore a son who became the emperor of Japan.”

She put Samuel in his crib and came back out.

“Thank you,” Patrick said. “I hope you’ll teach him other stories, too.”

“I will be happy to. Charles didn’t think they were appropriate for Al.”

“He was wrong. All teachings are important.”

“There are other versions. Another time I will tell Samuel the one from Kojiki, the ‘Record of Ancient Things’. The Kojiki was compiled in the 500s to 700s.”

Patrick and Rachel weren’t sure exactly when Michiko did, in deed, tell Samuel stories. But she did croon to him in Japanese and he seemed content. In fact, though he did fret and fuss and cry, it didn’t seem excessive. And the first week went well, with Samuel losing some weight, but well within the parameters outlined.

On Friday, Rachel and Michiko took Samuel to be examined and he received the pediatrician’s seal of approval.

Charles arrived on Saturday and relieved them of mother/mother-in-law. As soon as they left, Rachel began laughing.

“What’s funny?”

“I’m so relieved she’s gone. I love my mother, I really do, but I’m 27 years old! And I’m glad that we’re here with Samuel.” Right on cue, he made a noise, and Rachel went to change and feed him.

“Why don’t you tell him a story?” she asked.

“Any particular favourite?”

“Not Japanese,” she laughed.

“Long ago, near the beginning of the world, Gray Eagle was the guardian of the Sun, Moon and Stars, of fresh water, and of fire. Gray Eagle hated people so much that he kept these things hidden. So the people lived in darkness, without fire and without fresh water.

“Gray Eagle had a beautiful daughter, and Raven fell in love with her. In the beginning, Raven was a snow-white bird, and he pleased Gray Eagle’s daughter. She invited him to her father’s longhouse.

“When Raven saw the Sun, Moon, the Stars, and fresh water hanging on the sides of Eagle’s lodge, he knew what he had to do. He watched for his chance to seize them. He stole all of them, and a fiery torch too, and flew out of the longhouse through the smoke hole. As soon as Raven got outside he hung the Sun up in the sky. It made so much light that he was able to fly far to an island in the middle of the ocean. When the Sun set, he fastened the Moon up in the sky and hung the stars around in different places. Thus, by this new light he kept on flying, carrying with him the fresh water and the torch that he had stolen.

“Then he flew back over the land and when he reached the right place, he dropped all the water he had stolen. It fell to the ground and there became all the fresh-water streams and lakes. Then Raven flew on, holding the fire in his bill. The smoke from the fire blew back over his white feathers and blackened them. When his bill began to burn, dropped the torch. It struck rocks and hid itself within them. That’s why, when you strike two stones together, sparks of fire fly out.

“Raven’s feathers never became white again after they were blackened by the smoke. And that is why Raven is a black bird.”

“Where’s that from?”

“The US Pacific northwest. I’m not sure which tribe.” [There is another version of this in Bill Reid and Bob Bringhurst’s The Raven steals the light.]