Gauche the Cellist(Part 2)
Japanese
The following evening, Gauche came home with the big black cello-case. After gulping a glass of water, he began to play the cello just like he had done the previous night. It was already past midnight, but he kept playing. ...one o'clock, then two o'clock...he hadn't noticed the time passing or what he was doing... then someone knocked on the door.
"It must be that cat. It hasn't learned its lesson yet?"
When he said so, a gray bird flew down through a hole of the attic ceiling. It was a cuckoo.
"A bird? What do you want me for?" he asked.
"I want to learn music from you," the cuckoo answered coolly.
He laughed, and said,
"You said music? Your music is only 'Cuckoo, cuckoo', isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. But it's difficult for me to sing."
"It doesn't seem difficult. You always twitter, 'Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo,' a lot but they are the same sound of 'Cuckoo.'"
"No. It's terribly difficult. Each 'cuckoo' has different sound. Listen, this 'Cuckoo' is quite different from this 'Cuckoo', isn't it?"
"It sounds the same to me."
"If you say so, you, human beings, can't distinguish the difference of the sounds. If we twitter 'Cuckoo' ten thousand times, each sound is different to us."
"Suit yourself! You know a lot, then, why did you come to me?"
"I mean, I want to sing the scale 'Do, re, mi, fa' correctly."
"'Do, re, mi, fa'? Go to hell!"
"I'd like to learn it before I fly abroad."
"Fly abroad? You're interesting!"
"Will you show me how to sing 'Do, re, mi, fa' sir? I'll follow you."
"Don't bother me! Go home at once, after I play it just three times for you."
Gauche took up his cello, adjusted the strings, and played 'Do, re, me, fa, sol, la ti do'. Listening to it, the cuckoo flapped its wings in a hurry.
"No, no. That's not what I want to learn."
"You are annoying! Then, show me how to do it."
"It's like this." It bended its body forward, kept holding the posture briefly, and sang,
"Cuckoo!"
"What? Is it your 'Do, re, me, fa? Your 'Do, re, me, fa' and our 'The Sixth Symphony' must be quite the same for you.
"No, they aren't the same."
"Then, how are they different?"
"The different thing is that we sing cuckoo on and on, and it's difficult."
"That means... like this?" saying so, the cellist took his cello again and played, 'Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo' in a row.
The cuckoo was so pleased, and followed him from the middle of it,
"...Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo..."
The cuckoo was bending its body and sang so hard that Gauche felt his hands hurt and cried,
"All right. Enough is enough!"
and stopped suddenly. The cuckoo seemed to regret it, and kept on singing for a while like this,
"Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuck, cka, cka, cka, ck, ck," and it stopped.
He said angrily,
"Hey, bird, now that we've finished it, go home right now!"
"Would you mind playing once more? You may think it was perfect, but it was a little different."
"What? I'm not learning from you. Go home!"
"Would you please play it just once more? Please." The bird bowed down before him again and again.
"Well, this is the last time."
Gauche took his bow to get ready to play. The bird took a breath, and said,
"Would you play 'Cuckoo' as long as you can?"
He began to play 'Cuckoo', giving a bitter smile, while the bird began to sing, 'Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo,' in earnest.
Although he was very upset at first, he began to think that the bird's 'Cuckoo・was better than his. The longer he played, the better the bird's song was, he felt.
"Damn it! If I continue doing such a foolish thing, I would become a bird," he thought, and suddenly stopped playing, but the cuckoo couldn't stop singing at once. It kept its cuckoo for a while like this.
"...Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cka, cka, cka, cka, ck, ck, ck."
Looking at him reproachfully, the bird said,
"Why did you stop it? We wouldn't stop singing until we cough blood."
"None of your lip! I can't do such a foolish thing any more. Go away! Look! Soon the dawn is breaking." saying so, he pointed at the window.
"Please play with me once more until the sun rises up."
The cuckoo lowered the head again and again.
"Shut your bills! You, idiot! Unless you leave now, I'll eat you for breakfast."
He stamped on the floor.
The bird got so surprised that it suddenly flew to the window, but it fell down when it hit its head against a windowpane.
"How foolish you are to hit your head on the glass! Wait until I open the window.
He tried to open the old window and made it rattle, but it wasn't easy to open. The bird, which couldn't be patient, tried to fly away, and hit itself against the windowpane again. Gauche found the bird bleeding at the root of its bills. He felt pity, and hit the pane with his foot. Now that the glass of the windowpane crashed into pieces, the bird flew away straight like an arrow.
Gauche, who looked outside disgustedly for a while, fell down at the corner of the room and fell asleep.
The following midnight, he drank a glass of water after practicing to play a lot, when he heard someone knocking on the door again.
He, with a glass in his hand, waited for someone to come, thinking, he'd drive out whoever came. Opening the door, a tiny raccoon dog entered the room. He opened it wider, stamped on the floor to threaten it, and yelled at it,
"Hey, you, do you know what raccoon-dog-stew is like?"
The raccoon dog, with a look of bewilderment, was sitting up straight on the floor, tilted its head and was puzzled about the question for a while.
"I don't know what it is like."
Gauche said with a severe look on purpose,
"So I'll tell you about the raccoon-dog-stew. It's a kind of stewed dish with raccoon dog meat and cabbage, and seasoned with salt, my favorite."
The little animal seemed astonished, tilted its head, and said to him,
"But my father told me that Gauche was such a kind man who I don't need to be scared of, and told me to learn from you."
He burst into laughter,
"What did he say you could learn from me? I've been busy and now I'm sleepy."
The raccoon dog bravely took a step forward.
"I play the snare drum. My father told me to practice it with the cello."
"But I don't see you have any snare drum, do I?"
"Here they are! I always have them," saying so, it took out two sticks from its back.
"How do you play with them?"
"I beat my stomach with them. Wouldn't you mind playing 'The Cheerful Stable Master'?
"What is it? Is it a kind of jazz?"
"Here you are." The raccoon dog took a sheet of music from its back and handed it to him. Gauche looked through it and laughed.
"It seems to be an eccentric tune. All right, I'll play it for you. Will you drum with me?"
He was curious about what it would do next, and glanced at it while playing. Soon the raccoon dog began to beat the lower part of the cello with its sticks, which made him interested. When they finished the tune, the raccoon dog cocked its head, thought a while, and said,
"When you played on the second string, Gauche, you are a little slow. So I can't drum well."
It reminded him. He had noticed the sounds produced from the second string were a little later.
"Well, you may be right. My cello is very old," he sounded sad.
The little raccoon dog said,
"We want to know the reason, don't we? Would you play again?"
"All right, I'll play,"
Gauche replayed while the raccoon dog beat on the part of Gauche's cello as it had done, and sometimes bended its ear close to the cello. Anyway they played together until they were both satisfied with their performance.
"Oh, the day has broken. I must say 'Good-bye', sir. Thank you very much,・saying so, the raccoon dog swung the note and sticks on its back, made a bow a few times and hurried to leave.
Gauche was gazing into space for a while and breathed the air from the window which had been broken last night. But he went to bed soon to regain energy. (2011/10/01 With Itaya) Original By Kenji Miyazawa. Images by Jun Hatanaka
To be continued
Gauche the Cellist(Part 1)
Gauche the Cellist(Part 3)
